Listen I LOVED Another Chance At Love, But I Need It Darker. Like WAY Darker. Pretty Please?

listen I LOVED another chance at love, but I need it darker. like WAY darker. pretty please?

sighs and cracks knuckles alrighty then...

Psychosocial

Sinister! Mark x gn! Reader

Warnings: graphic description of violence and death, forced relationship, manipulation, yandere trope, cannibalistic tendencies, not proofread

"Emperor..."

The sound of your voice was the only thing able to dring through to Mark during his homicidal fury, eyes lighting up in almost manic joy as he shifts his attention away from the mangled carcasses in front of him. His torture had them succumb to their injures minutes ago, and yet that didn't stop him from contunuing to vent his anger on their lifeless bodies.

Their excruciating deaths should serve as warning example of what awaits whoever dares trying to take you away from him.

Not even two hours had passed since those rebels abducted you, hoping that taking you hostage would serve as means of negotiation - though some of them argued about whether or not punish him for his crimes by making you suffer.

Even if they intended to kill you, that brief interaction with 'normal' people was a welcomned diversion from your lonely existence in the Emperor's golden cage.

Of course there was no reasoning with this man - if anything, their actions had only further fueled the hatred and aversion he felt for those 'inferior creatures'.

From the very start you knew that their hopeless ambitions would cause dire consequences even for the uninvolved, but were unable to convince them of abandoning their efforts. You claimed that you were insignificant to the Emperor, merely a disposable plaything he would kill himself eventually. It was only half a lie...

...but after all this time of being succumbed to his madness, you stopped fearing your death, yearned for it even.

Invincible kept telling himself the same damn thing, trying to convince himself that his little infatuation of his was nothing more than a feeble fascination he would soon overcome.

However, the moment he realized you had disappeared from his chambers, he saw red.

Because the opposite was the case: You were the last thing that kept his mind somewhat intact, the only person to bring forth the last remnant of humanity he wasn't even aware he possessed until he met you.

Without you, he'd burn it all down.

"Y/N!" he cheered, not a hint of having gone berserk earlier left in his tone. He let the corpse of the latest enemy he busied himself with drop onto the floor, and you winced at the disgusting sound of bloodied flesh hitting concrete. Your stomach turned, not due to the horrific slaughter unfolding in front of you, but because all you were able to feel right now was relief that you weren't on the receiving end of his wrath.

That doesn't mean you're safe just yet. Your punishment may just have been postponed due to his relief to see you unharmed, and his delusions making him belief you returned to him out of your own volition.

But the truth is you had simply given in to your fate long ago.

"You okay, doll?" Yes, a doll. A toy. That's all you are. Victim to his whims, used and tossed away...or broken. Whatever happens first. "Those savages didn't hurt you, right?"

Your eyes were glued on one of the enemies that was still - barely - breathing, his limbs twisted in unnatural positions and writhing in unbearable agony.

"Hello?" Mark cannot stand your attention to be on anyone else than him - your hero and savior, after all - trying to make you snap out of it by flicking his fingers in front of your face. "Look. At. Me." His voice remained smooth as honey as he spoke, but there was a subtle threat to the deliverance of his line.

He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, nothing more but a monster that adapted a human performance in order to lull people into a false sense of security.

You knew him better than that, learned to read every shift of tone, microexpression or movement of his. It's an act of self-preservation that helped to redirect his erratic nature before it could hit you.

But this...was just too much to be worrying about yourself.

"Please..." you choke on your own sobs, rooted on spot in the middle of carnage. "Put him out of his misery."

Your saddened, almost disappointed expression hit his chest harder than any punch of his father ever could. He wasn't able to feel guilt for his actions, not really, but that doesn't mean he's completely callous - as much as he wants to be.

Mark's emotions are just different than most: Dulled, incomprehensible, easily overshadowed by the Viltrumite propaganda that was drilled into his brain through inhumane methods.

And right now, he feels...damn, he can't even put it into words.

But he can show you.

His mouth is pressed into a thin line, and you can almost feel him roll his eyes behind the black goggles as he wryly scoffs "You're such a killjoy."

Nonetheless, he presses his boot on the poor fella's skull, and you hear an audible crack before it scatters into a million pieces of bone and brain matter. He takes a second to admire his handiwork, at least having the decency to wipe his hands clean on his cape before approaching you. "The things I wouldn't do for you, amirite?"

You stand there motionless, hugging yourself as you watch the crimson pulp, a sole tear escaping your eyes despite your best efforts to present yourself like he expects.

"Ah, c'mon. Don't be a crybaby. You've seen me do worse." A condescending smile decorates his face as he towers in front of you, petting your hair in a both warning and appreciating manner. "Aaaaand...?"

"...and I love you either way" you wrung out the empty, repeated words he wanted to hear, and instantly Mark grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His canines sink deep into your bottom lip, a sensual sigh escaping his throat as he savoured the taste.

"Why do you care about those lowlives anyways?" Your breath hitches when he strokes your cheek in a mockery of tenderness, always anticipating pain. "Be-because I'm one of them."

Silence.

You fucked up.

Why do you always provoke him, you both think in unison. It would be so much easier if you'd just go against your true feelings and continue acting like a doting partner.

Well, sometimes the heart speaks it's truth faster than the reason can catch up on.

Mark clicks his tongue in contempt, his palm still lingering on your neck becoming painful as his fingernails dug into the skin. He hates being remembered of this blemish that is your relationship...

...that he's in love with someone that's so beneath him, that he can never be the man you could truly, genuinely want let alone deserve, and especially knowing that your life will be over in a fraction of his own.

"Sweetheart" he spat, voice laced with honeyed venom that made your skin crawl. "You just don't see the bigger picture yet." But he'll make you see...just like he made you see that you were made for each other.

He forcefully takes ahold of your chin, eyes boring into yours and you could clearly see the storm raging beneath. "You are not like them. Not at all. Because I chose you, elevated you to be more than the pathetic worm you were destined to be-"

Blood was rushing so loudly in your ears, you didn't even notice reinforcements arrive and opening fire until Mark had to release his grasp on you. The bullets hitting his back aren't enough to do so much as tickling him, but it was you he worried about.

A manic grin splits across his face as he swung an arm around you to shield you with his body, while at the same time disarming the small group with an effortless strike.

Weird.

You were sure he'd kill all of them instantly.

He dwells in people's misery, but not at your extent, and currently you were close enough to get into harm's way. And he never misses, so why are there survi-

No.

"Don't-" But Mark silenced you with a glare as he grabbed the two survivors by the throat, lifting them up with ease. His cogitous hum turned into a demented cackle, as if a metaphorical lightbulb had just lit up in his head.

So he spared them intentionally.

"You probably thought you survived up until now because you're special or some bullshit..." his pressure on their windpipes increases, taunting them with his hauntingly calm voice, "But you were simply not worth killing. It was way more fun seeing you writhe, hiding in the dirt and knowing theres nothing you can do to stop me. But this..." He points over his shoulder to where your trembling self has to observe all of this. "That crossed a line. I don't like others touching what's mine."

Eventually, Mark turns around to face you again, his facial features encouraging, innocent even. "Choose" he orders, exhilarated with this new game he invented for his entertainment.

This is no new situation, really. Yet it never fails to break apart your soul, taking something from it that you can never regain.

Usually he makes you wittness him committ atrocious deeds, just to make you tell him rehearsed affirmations of your love afterwards. He wants you to see him at his worst and stay either way as if you had any choice at all.

This time however, it wasn't enough. Never is.

He wanted to actively involve you.

"Y/N, darlin'..." the Viltrumite chants lovingly, quite amused as he watched the rebels helplessly claw at his arm, struggling against his sheer tremendous power. "I said choose. Who dies, the man or the woman?"

You softly cling onto his back, tug and punch weakly at the fabric of his cape as you bury yourself against his unrelenting muscle. "I-I can't...please do-on't make me..."

"Do. It." he urges, an irritated crease forming on his forehead. "Or I'll kill them both."

All your pleading and crying is to no avail, and soon it's drowned out by those people's choking and gasping, echoing against the walls of their destroyed hideout.

Ultimatively one of the two manages to signalize you his dying wish, glancing frantically over to his female companion before his eyes roll far back into his skull, close to passing out. Sadly, you understood immediately.

"The man!" you scream at the top of your lungs, shortly before life left their eyes completely...

...just for Invincible to bury his hands into both of their abdomen, balling a fist inside them before pulling out their intestines. He licks his lips as their blood splatters across his face, grimacing at the foul taste. Yours is so much better.

Oh, how much he wishes it was you instead. He wants to eviscerate you, nestle in your chest cavity right next to your heart.

"Why..." You fall to your knees, defeated whimmers soon turning into angered yells. "WhywhywhywhyWHY?!"

Aw, it's so cute when you're upset. It's gotten harder to lure a reaction like this out of you recently.

"A gift" he explains, shooting you an unapologetic look as he caged you in between his arms. "I know you too well. You would've blamed yourself for the choice either way, but like this you don't have to." That probably makes sense in his disturbed sense of logic. A sign of his wicked sense of affection.

He should do this more often.

It always bothered him that you were so...good. It made you incompatible.

But Mark...he slowly but steadily molded you. Soon you'd be perfect.

"You're the fucking best!" He exclaims, as if he wanted to shout it across the world, to let everyone know that just how amazing you are and that and you're his.

"Deep down you're just as fucked up as I am" Mark then chants, clearly pleased with himself. He boops your nose, leaving a blood red fingerprint. "And I just helped you realize that. Embrace it."

You refuse to respond to that, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. And yet the worst thing is that deep down, he might be onto something.

Of course you had no other choice. Of course you played along to survive. And even if you didn't comply, he'd have methods to make you...

...but in the end he didn't even have to try. You were just so damn tired of it all, grew indifferent to a degree that frightened you.

Maybe you weren't all that different after all. Not anymore at least.

"Let's go home." Mark curls you into his arms as gently as he was capable of, securely keeping you in place as he rose into the sky. The air was filled with dust and smoke, a perfect excuse for the tears dwelling beneath your lids, shall he ever acknowledge them.

You close your eyes, trying to dissociate and shun out the heartbreaking reality and yet their screams were haunting you even after you had been too far away to hear.

Subconsciously, you cuddle up against Mark, hearing an almost shy chuckle rumble in his chest. You tried to warm yourself in his embrace, however the coldness you felt was far from physical.

"You've been through a lot" you hear him whisper, an unusual concern present in the way he speaks. "I'm sorry for not protecting you better." It's the first time he apologizes, and it's not even because of his own actions.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, seriously..." Much to your surprise his voice cracks in genuine anguish at the mere thought of losing you, but he's quick to put up the confident front again. "Don't worry, next time I won't be this merciful with anyone that dares trying."

Your head falls in defeat and you lean your ear against his sternum, allowing the tears to run free while you listen to the drum of his heartbeat. It was constantly slow and surreal calm, beating erratic only in the few occasions that you were not with him.

"Shh...don't cry. I'm here, I got you." Mark's lips grace your cheeks, savouring the salt of your tears as he kisses them away. "I love you...and I won't let anyone take you from me ever again."

His gentleness is almost harder to bear than his cruelty.