Age of Mark

Written in Collaboration with Namichwan

"-reports of a major battle at the Avengers Compound in Upstate New York, which coincided with the return of the Dusted. According to eyewitnesses, the battle involved a massive alien vessel that briefly appeared over the compound before disappearing. NORAD also reported seeing the same vessel, which matches the one that entered Earth orbit during the invasion of Wakanda by Thanos' army five years ago."

The sloppy sounds of sex were an interesting background for an otherwise serious news report as the trio of humans learned to get along on the floor beside the television. Mark idly enjoyed the sight for the perversity of it more than anything else. Both men were pretty pathetically endowed though Mr. John Mcentee was about twice as thick around as Liam which Jill seemed to really appreciate. She was flat-chested and basically didn't hold a candle to the gorgeous babes that made up Mark's entourage but she was cute enough.

John's hairy body was so big all you could see of her on her back beneath him was her lower arms and legs as well as a bit of butt-cheeks squashed underneath his plunging hips. Her first husband was on his knees either trying to feed her his dick or likely stroking it above her head.

Given their respective situations and various worthwhile claims to the apartment, he'd cut that Gordian knot by Royal decree. As citizens of the Hidden Phoenix Kingdom ™, marriages were naturally arranged by their Sovereign in whatever fashion best suited the state. A kingdom needed citizens after all and as of right now it had a (local) population of precisely seven. Jill was all too happy to offer up her womb for the good of the nation, not to mention increase harmony between their country's only two male minions who were also her husbands.

Clearly, his vacation in Markanda had given him ideas.

His eyes flicked back to the television as he watched a broadcast from WHIH involving an attractive blonde anchor named Christine Everhart. The datestamp featured prominently: May 31, 2018. She was in the middle of delivering a report when her face abruptly collapsed inward, horrifyingly disintegrating into dust as her entire form fell apart in the space of a few seconds. Her well coifed partner gasped in shock and lept out of his chair and back as if retreating from a contagion.

Then the broadcast switched with a changed set and two new WHIH anchors. Now the datestamp showed October 17th, 2023. Two days ago in this universe. Weirdly five years off from his own. They were reporting on militia groups clashing in Nevada when a cloud of dust swirled into existence between them. It all came together and somehow formed a complete and alive Christine Everhart. She looked exactly the same as she had in the previous scene except now she was sitting on top of the news desk.

She looked dazed and disoriented, before realising that she was now sitting on top of the desk. She quickly composed herself, slipping off and straightening her skirt and adjusting her hair. The professional newscast was thrown out as various individuals rushed into the shot and up to her.

"Shit." He uttered feelingly as he stroked the snoozing Felicia’s head on his lap. It was one thing to hear about it, to experience the chaos of its aftermath. But seeing it? Even Mark could have a heart when shit was this bad, "And that happened back home? Why don't I know about it? Even if it was only for a day or whatever, hell, even an hour! I'd remember THAT."

America snorted with continued derision, "That's cause they messed that up here too. Nebula or Adam usually use the gauntlet to put everything back the way it was before Thanos snapped. With just those involved in the conflict getting to remember the day that never happened. Doing it THIS assbackwards way causes shit like this to happen."

She gestured at the TV where a panel of talking heads was discussing the fact that people that were dusted on planes reappeared back at the airports where their flights took off from. One pointed out that none of those that died in the numerous plane crashes as pilots were turned to dust got to come back. Just some really guilty feeling pilots popping into existence in the terminal knowing that a bunch of passengers they were charged with transporting safely had died awful fiery deaths due to their absence.

Changing the channel didn’t do much to help matters. This was THE news, and everyone was talking or reacting to it. There were riots of people, unfocused in their rage, some wooden signs saying to ‘we moved on, go back to space’ and others saying ‘marriage is supposed to be forever’. A reality chat show on another channel had already scooped up the chance to make this about drama, having ‘the woman with two wives’ on as the main guest. Lives were forever changed, thousands were still missing or gone, and this wasn’t something you could brush under the rug with a Christmas special.

“Where’s all the supers anyway?” Mark asked, flipping onto a news programme about The Avengers. “And not just these guys, like the X-Men or Fantastic Four or whatever. What, are they legally not allowed to show up or something?”

“No, seems like they were just never here to begin with.” said Nat, entering the room with a laptop under her arm and a stack of papers. “Here’s all the valid intel I could find, sir. The Avengers have only really been operating for about ten years here, with only rudimentary mentions of super powered individuals outside of that.” Files on Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and more all scattered the top layer of papers as he began to dig deeper, “Mutants do not exist. Inhumans are rare, and most of the public don’t believe they exist. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been deconstructed and reassembled several times, HYDRA apparently wormed their way into their system since inception. All laid out by this universe’s version of me in many declassified documents for public consumption.”

Mark was quite upset by one part of the info, "No Mutants? How is that even possible? We're the next step in evolution! How can an entire race just… not exist?"

The trio of non-mutants exchanged looks. Though all had different reasons.

“Maybe you are,” America quipped, “Have you seen Toad? That guy is definitely a step back if you ask me.”

Nat was more serious, “I’m really not up to date with mutant history at the biological level. My time in Markanda kept me busier researching threats and jerking off palace guards. Though evolution doesn’t always occur even under the best of circumstances, so it’s not exactly surprising in another universe that the mutant gene has yet to appear.”

“Isn’t anyone more interested in finding out that there’s another Black Widow?” Felicia added, “The Markanda variant of me simply loved to have her pussy licked. I’m sure our newest member would want something similar to happen to her.”

“That’s right, another Natasha…” Mark smirked, admiring her body a little and the prospects of dual ownership of her, “Where’s she now?”

“She’s dead.”

That actually made the three civilian rutters all pause, “W-what?! But you-!”

“It was part of the classified documents I was able to hack into. Apparently they aren’t as willing to make my **** as public yet, perhaps out of respect for me.” The paper she pointed to down near the bottom showed [DECEASED] across the other Widow’s face. She indeed looked a lot like her multiversal counterpart, with red wavy hair and nice pouty lips, though perhaps not as curvy as Mark’s Nat. Though she did remind him of an actress he liked… “The main threats to your takeover are as follows: Dr Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Wakanda, Thor, Captain Marvel, The Guardians of the Galaxy, and then other miscellaneous heroes like Ant or Spider-Man.”

Though Felicia’s head perked up at the Spider-Name, Mark just contemplated his options, “Hmm, okay. Strange is making me wary after what he did to my powers last time… let’s stay out of his radar for now until we can recruit a couple heavier hitters.” He looked down at his little beeper, still showing his lover’s dot and ID in the universe but not showing where. “Mainly Jean. We’ll stay away from him until she can make him blast his own stupid moustache off his face from two miles away.”

“We’ll get him when he least expects it,” America nuzzled into his neck, sighing happily at all the people that Mark was going to save, and to get his mind away from how much Nat was helping.

It was then that Mark decided to stand up abruptly. “Alright! This universe sounds like it needs some fucking leadership, so first thing’s first: I need real estate! Let’s go touch everyone in the building, starting with the landlord!”