dark jack m!a

dangan-noya  asked:

Mark finds Dark and Anti's conversation and is confused because he doesn't remember when he typed this so Anti has to deal with Mark. Or vice versa with Dark dealing with Jack. I'm happy to know you're enjoying the requests! Hopefully this one makes sense XD

Hey I actually got around to doing this it’s up now if you wanna see (but I couldn’t tag you in it for whatever reason…?)

forreal tho the only reason why im a lil bit iffy bout the prospect of a new film is cauSE I WANT COMPLETE CONTRO L OVER IT

Recapture Me

It had been a long day…

But not in any way a mere mortal would think. It wasn’t work, it wasn’t something useful like that.

It was himself. Him and the Nightmares.

The day before it captured him, took him over. He didn’t understand how, didn’t want to know really. Maybe he was afraid, too afraid of what he might know, if he asked the questions he was too afraid to put in words.

He didn’t really remember what had happened. It was all darkness and Nightmares.

But now… 

He was fighting – fighting for the Nightmares, for defense of what he’d done. He knew in his head the things Pitch told him to do. In those few short hours, it was terror, it was destruction… it was even murder. He narrowed his eyes, wondered how something so intangible can feel so present and close and real in his body.

“I am the darkness,” he whispered.

But did he believe it?

He had to.

Breaking down....

The Nightmares were ebbing…

It was slight, ever so slight but he could tell. He looked away from Pitch, couldn’t stand for him to know. There was something tearing at his soul, and one half of him was filled with conviction, a determination to follow him to the end of the earth.

And the other half…

He wasn’t going to break now.

Pitch needed him.

lux-aeterna-hallie replied to your post: Violet eyes caught sight, seeing the change. The darkness. It had taken a tight hold, desperate for control. The pinkette stood firm in front of him, stunned. “You…” She began, a slight shudder rippling. His sparkle had gone—the sparkle she always saw—completely shrouded by the shadow that loomed. A slight step backward. There was fear. A bite to her bottom lip and she looked away. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t help… It failed…” whispered words cracked in her throat.

“Gah!” The cry of pain broke in her throat at the harsh tug of her hair. The sheer force making her stumble and trip, landing on her knees. Her hat flew off her head and her hands were immediately on his wrists. “N-No! You’re not!”

“You’ve lied and you’ve hated me, and you’ve asked me things no one should ask of me. You are not going to live through this, because you deserve it.” He clasped a hand over the ones on his wrist, tightened his grip on them, turned her head down and thrust her on the floor, sliding her against the wall. He picked up his staff, pounded at her. “Last words?”

philtheyeti replied to your post: (Speaking as Emily–Phil’s on patrol–but… I…

((Only because I speak from experience… thank you!) Even if the world forgives and forgets, forgiving yourself can be a lot, lot harder. I don’t really support how you’ve been dealing with it the past few days… but I understand. And I’m here.)

Thank you. I don’t support it either, but it’s not really about what I believe is it? I don’t do the things I want to do, I’m not the person I want to be all the time….