Tbh, it ought to be studied what draws the most rancidly racist people to the most uwu art styled media. Because it seems like they believe they are too babey to watch mature media with live adults, but also want their squishy doll babey characters to say slurs and make assault jokes so like... What's the draw? Why do you seek the veneer of innocence while wanting the behavior of.... Ope. Wait. Yeah I just answered my own question.
I finally put my finger on what it was about molly’s comment to caleb at the end of ep5 that made it echo so loud, because it had the air of a callback even though this conversation was definitely a divergence from the actualplay
‘cause here’s the thing—it was a taliesin line at the table, but it wasn’t molly who said it!
it was caduceus to essek. masks finally off, standing at a crossroads, sins bare.
Hii, I was wondering if I could request a toxic sinister mark x female reader smut..their relationship is toxic where reader keeps trying to leave from how abusive and manipulative he is but he just won’t let her
“MANIA.”
in which, SINISTER!MARK GRAYSON from INVINCIBLE cannot ignore his deepest desires, no matter how sickening.
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includes: sinister!mark grayson variant x fem!reader, MATURE CONTENT (17+), descriptions of gore, hematolagnia (sexual arousal for blood), masochism, mentions of cannibalism, threatening, sadism, fear kink, spanking, biting, licking, finger sucking, fingering, piv, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, roughdom!mark grayson, hair pulling, baby-trapping (if you squint), established (TOXIC) relationship, 2.3k words.
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DISCLAIMER: please do not romanticize abusive relationships / abuse. the situation described is more toxic than anything, as mark is a psycho and reader, despite her common sense, is into that. keep yourself and others safe <3
A RAVENOUS greed had begun to rot inside mark grayson. it had rooted itself deep within his gut; twisting, churning, and begging for him to succumb to the darkest, most deli cious, decay from the black that enveloped his mind.
floating above washington, he gnawed at his lower lip, canines piercing smoothly into the fat. droplets of blood trickled from the twin wounds, his tongue quick to absorb the irony liquid. it wasn't a nervous tick-- mark would never have adopted such foolish human customs-- as much as it was a way to temporarily satisfy the hunger creeping within his innards. wind tousled his hair, and for a moment, there was silence. there were no voices that told him to kill, to eat, to devour; until he smelled it.
not it; you.
your flesh. your sweat. your fear.
something in him snapped-- much like what he wanted to do to your spine after he had had his way with you: peel your body from your nervous system, limb by limb, dragging and fracturing each vertebrae from your measly frame, sucking and chewing on the calcium from your bones, tongue lapping selfishly at your blood and--
mark had to compose himself. drool had begun to pool in his mouth, and he gave his plush bottom lip a satisfying lick. no longer was he hovering: mark had shot off towards your location, tracing your scent with a maddening hunger.
the rot was spreading, practically oozing from his ears and his eyes and his nose and his mouth and his everything. it yearned for you, an instinctive frenzy mark could not bare to suppress any longer.
he would infect you too, he thought steadily. even if it was the last thing he did.
✰
the clock in the center of the wall was beginning to drive you mad. with each agonizing tick, tick, tick, you felt your chest swell hot with dread. every rotation of those insignificant hands on that stupid fucking clock meant mark was closer to returning. and this evening, mark had been out long.
he would be starving when he returned.
try as you might, and god, had you tried, to leave-- mark had always found you. there was something down right startling about his ability to track you down; often times you were sure it had been nothing more than a game to him, a juvenile round of cat and mouse.
cat and mouse. cat eat mice. mark was going to eat you alive.
your pulse quickened at the thought, and your body had begun, suddenly, moving on its own. the apartment reeked of desperation as you fumbled with the locks on each window, shaky hands unable to hide the pure horror pulsing through your veins. the locks were all unmoving within your feeble grasp, and as a last resort, you had grabbed something from off the counter-- a dirtied pot, you think-- and thrown it angrily at the kitchen window. glass shards painted the floor and window sill, and the pot eventually hit the pavement below with a thundering clamor.
if you had been thinking, maybe you would have attempted the door; you'd had a better shot at prying at the deadbolts than surviving the eleven story fall from the newly broken window.
alas, the wind bit eagerly at your face, taunting you.
the clock on the wall behind you ticked on and on and on, and certainly, there was no other option in your mind but to jump. broken glass cut into your skin as you crawled onto the sill, but it barely registered as adrenaline had pushed you, finally, into the air.
it was freeing. wind rushed through your hair as you fell, and your stomach had barely lurched. there was a tree below the window where you had fallen, and you figured it would soften the blow. sure, you'd have an assortment of injuries in the aftermath-- but you'd be free, no?
"no." mark's voice had cut your thoughts in half, and his grip on you was tight. his fingernails stabbed painfully into the plush of your thighs and the fat of your biceps as he held you close. he reeked of a silent hysteria.
he caught you.
"stupid girl," he spat, floating upwards, towards the apartment window.
mark had caught you.
"you thought you could leave me?" his voice rang in your ears, vibrating and jostling within the constraints of your mind. it was quiet-- too quiet, too calm, too hungry.
mark grayson had caught you.
he threw you down carelessly onto the small expanse of your apartment's kitchen countertop; the cold granite a shock to your system. "you must not know how good you smell," mark breathed, face shoved into the crook of your neck as he inhaled wildly, "good enough to eat."
✰
carnal instinct had gotten your clothes torn to shreds, the amalgamation of thread and cloth and whatever else had been your outfit carelessly discarded in some dark corner of your apartment. you laid bare, save for your panties, in front of mark. he stood a few feet back, taking in the view; you could see the sporadic rise and fall of his chest, and the way his pupils were blown wide.
"mark, baby, we can--" you tried.
"where should i start, hm?" he interrupted, voice low. his steps were slow, arms uncrossing from his chest and reaching out to grab the sole of your foot. he brought your ankle to his cheek, letting the bone rest against his face; he paused, before twisting his head to press a open-mouthed kiss to it. "maybe i'll work my way up, yeah?" he whispered.
sharp teeth sunk into the flesh of your calf and you gasped. he broke the skin, pursing his lips to suck the blood from the wound.
"markus," you hissed. his eyes flicked upwards to meet yours, and you saw brown irises roll. he gave a flat lick to the bite, as if to soothe the angry skin, before he moved upwards, past your knee, to your inner thigh. his tongue still remained connected to your leg, the salt from your sweat intoxicating to him.
he kissed your thighs, alternating between both legs, before simply biting down, harder than before, into the fat. you whined-- upset at yourself for enjoying this so much.
there was a lunatic in between your legs-- one you were certain would snap your neck the second he got bored of you-- and here you were, fucking soaked.
"you're not just scared anymore," he whispered, still nipping at the sensitive flesh of your thighs. "i can smell it."
without warning, he pressed his index finger against your panties, hard enough to create a stain from your slick beneath the fabric. your whole body shuddered, your head lolling backwards ever so slightly. the pad of mark's finger ran up and down your clothed pussy a few more times, stopping briefly where your clit was to roll lazy circles, until mark had had enough. he hooked two fingers beneath your panties, pulling them to the side, before the digits dove into your folds.
your hips tilted upwards and you gasped again, mark's actions stealing the breath from your lips.
"greedy slut," he mumbled. "you don't deserve this."
his hand tilted slightly, so this thumb could press harshly onto your clit; two fingers shoved knuckles deep inside of you, mark felt your tight hole flutter around his extremities. you couldn't speak-- too absorbed in the feeling of his hand bullying your cunt, too engrossed in the way he shifted his free hand to yank you towards the edge of the counter.
he knelt, still with his fingers curling and scissoring within you, to bite down again on your thighs. his teeth stung forcibly, and your legs shook around his head. mark's tongue darted out to taste the blood from your thigh, groaning as the substance coated his tastebuds.
mark curled his fingers inside you once, twice, and then pulled them out haphazardly. his vision landed on the glistening wetness that completely drenched his hand, and his voice was sharp. "see? you don't really want to leave me."
frustration bloomed in your core, and it was almost as intense as the shame that had crawled its way up your neck, mocking you. "i do." you snapped out, voice barely above a whisper.
"you do?" mark's face broke out into a grin, though he was not amused. "lie to me again," he threatened lowly, "and you'll see what happens."
you swallowed, watching him spread your slick against your lower stomach. it was obscene. "i'm not fucking lying, mark. you- you're insane!"
what was even worse, however, was the way mark reacted. he stood, no longer kneeling in between your legs. he had some of your blood smeared along his chin, and his smile was fucking unnerving. he used one singular palm to grip firmly onto your hip, flipping you onto your stomach. there was no love in his movements-- he manhandled you the way he wanted, palms groping with no pattern along your body.
smack!
the crack of his hand against your ass had you crying out, taken aback by the amount of force he had used. "i'm insane," he echoed, bringing his palm back down onto your ass with excessive force. "i'm insane," mark spanked you again, and again, and again; until tears prickled in the corner of your eyes and the heat radiating from the welts was concerning.
"please," you begged.
you heard movement from behind you, and suddenly you felt the weight of mark's cock throb against your drenched pussy. "shut up," he huffed, crudely slapping his cock onto your clit. your hips jerked, and you whined, unable to contain the noise. "i said," mark warned, before stuffing two fingers inside your pussy easily-- you had sucked his digits up with greed-- thrusting them repeatedly against your g-spot. he tugged them away suddenly, and you made another noise at the loss, before you felt his wet fingers being pressed meanly to your lips. without protest, you opened your mouth, the taste of your own arousal flooding your senses. "shut up."
mark used his left hand to guide his tip to your hole, not bothering to wait before he shoved himself inside you completely. you felt his hips flush against your ass, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the tip of his cock met that spongy spot inside of you. he leaned forward, pressing his weight firmly against your back-- and hot breath hit the back of your neck. "i'm insane," he repeated, as he pulled his hips back to thrust himself inside of you completely once again. your toes curled. "fuck, what does that make you then? you're the one drooling on both my fingers and cock."
you whined as he continued to fuck into you, back arching against his lower stomach. your tongue swirled messily at his fingers, drool dripping down your chin.
"why can't you fuckin' listen to what i say?" he snapped angrily, hand leaving your hip to smack the plush of your ass again. "you're so much prettier when you're not bitching about me hurting you."
his teeth sunk into the flesh where your neck meets your shoulders, and you, lacking in any self respect, fucking enjoy it. "don't you realize," he whispered, lapping at the blood that now spilled from your neck, "that i could have killed you a long fuckin' time ago? torn you limb from limb, devouring this sweet and weak little body, leaving you nothing but a carcass?"
it should scare you. it should make your blood run cold. he should make you fear for your life.
his hips continue to snap against your ass, the obscene sounds of your pussy clenching and squelching around his thick cock filling your apartment.
you should be petrified!
but you're not. especially not as mark bottoms out again, grinding his hips against you, forcing his dick impossibly deeper. your eyes sting; mascara bleeding down your flushed cheeks as he reaches a hand out to yank your head back, neck craning at the force. he groans, moving in and out of you again.
"i'm going to cum," he whispers, breath hot against the shell of your ear, "and you're going to take it."
mindlessly you're nodding, cunt practically strangling his cock. your own orgasm is approaching fast; the way he rams his dick into you sending shivers down your spine.
mark's body tenses as you feel his cock begin to pulse within you, his cum intruding your pussy. he's bitten down on your shoulder-- pain prickling into the edges of your senses as you cum sloppily around his dick next. his hips continue to rock into you as he laps at your shoulder, completely bewitched by the taste of your blood.
forcefully, you're spitting out his fingers-- the sensation of him within you blurring into a painful overstimulation. "mark, s'too much," you gasp. a trail of saliva keeps you connected to his fingers. embarrassment vaguely washes over you.
his hips still, and suddenly, you're left feeling empty. mark moves silently, using his spit-covered fingers to shove the cum that's begun to dribble from your cunt back inside. you thrash a little at the feeling, only spurring mark on to bring a palm down harshly on your pussy.
"there," mark juts his chin forward, stuffing any last trails of escaped cum back into you, "now you will not leave me."
you quiver, his tone painfully ominous. you feel exposed in front of him, post-sex guilt contaminating your mind, and the need to run, to hide, to escape from mark starts to simmer deep in your gut.
mark smiles. it looks painful. every last pointed tooth blinds you, and as he comes closer to your face, you can smell the adrenaline on his breath. you can smell the delirium, smell the insanity. his whisper is frightening.
"i've infected you. there's no escaping the rot."
PLUVOiA '25 ® - masterlist
loren's thots: sinister mark is a fuckin weirdo lmfao, hope he came off that way. also fun-fact: i went onto the wikipedia page for paraphilias to check for some stuff js for tagging and holy shit?? go take a look if u hv time lmao theres some crazy shizz on there. not yucking anyones yum (unless its illegal like pedophilia) but damn. (reqs are open!!)
