[FIC] The Jagged Edges Disappear
Author: phaelsafe
Rating: mature
Genre and/or Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, blackice, blackfrost
Spoilers: takes place after the movie
Warnings: creepiness and violence
Summary: They might be immortal, but they most certainly can die.
A/N: Not even sorry for this.
Since Pitch had figured out how to corrupt the Dreamsand into nightmares, he figured that bringing Sandman over to his side, willingly or not, couldn't that much more difficult. But things had not gone gone according to plan. Pitch certainly hadn't intended to kill the Guardian of Dreams. At the time, he hadn't thought that any of them could die. He considered that belief validated by the fact that Sandman returned just fine.
As it turns out, he's wrong - they most certainly can die.
When Jack silently steals into North's workshop, skulking in the shadows as though he doesn't belong, Pitch's curiosity gets the best of him and he follows, slinking after the winter spirit through the same shadows. The yetis pay no attention to Jack, he has permission to be there, after all, but they hone in on Pitch like a pack of hounds on a fox. Not one of his finer moments, considering he has just outed himself to the very same Guardians who had him consigned to the bowels of the earth - he flees. And Jack, still a little whirlwind of chaos who wreaks havoc in the name of fun, gives chase without thought, as though nothing has changed.
It happens by accident, possibly too much pent up emotion on Jack's part, or maybe he simply underestimates his own strength - Pitch certainly isn't any weaker than he had been before his big fight with the Guardians - but he blasts the Nightmare King into oblivion.
Pitch's next breath is fueled by Jack's terror and guilt. Jack doesn't tell anyone what he's done, and instead goes into hiding. The other Guardians let him be mainly because Jack has been isolated from everyone for the last three hundred years - he'll talk when he's ready. Jack is also very good at covering his tracks.
Pitch knows all this because it's his job to know, and he knows just how alike he and Jack are. They even share the same fondness for helpless children and little tooth fairies - Jack can't hide from Pitch forever.
Returning the favor, killing Jack, turns out to be more fun than Pitch had anticipated. Victory is sweet until he glances down at Jack's lifeless body, and Pitch feels distress, a downward tug somewhere deep within his rib cage that he hasn't felt in ages. When a pained breath suddenly escapes from Jack and he lifts himself up onto his elbows, turning his questioning blue eyes to Pitch, the sense of relief that washes over Pitch is even sweeter.
Pitch backs away, his steps cautious as Jack watches him. When Jack grins, Pitch bolts.
It takes him some time to realize he isn't actually going after the Guardians. Pitch does what he can to annoy the them whenever he gets the opportunity - he certainly doesn't want them to forget he exists again - but they're too busy trying to rebuild their empires and he's still recovering from his own failed grab for power. Besides, the Moon is still well beyond his reach; any serious attempt from Pitch would be wasted.
He just wants to see Jack, and Jack obliges.
The Guardians seem to think Jack jumps in to help because he craves their attention. His frost trick is quite effective against Pitch, and though they appreciate his gesture, they continue to think that Jack isn't much different than the children they protect.
If only they knew.
The Moon hangs in the sky, full and disapproving, as Pitch follows a flight of Tooth's little fairies. The thought of capturing them crosses his mind. He actually likes the colorful little hummingbirds - or rather, he misses the way their terrified chittering filled his lair.
Then Jack appears from out of nowhere, all courageous smirks and undaunted laughter, to save the day. There's simply no way Jack could have gotten there so quickly unless he'd been following him, and even Pitch recognizes how that could seem a little disturbing.
He disappears into shadows, fleeing to Antarctica - because Jack won't play if there's a chance that others might get hurt - and Jack gives chase.
This is just another game to Jack, but it's special, something shared only between the two of them.
Jack gets the upper hand this time, and he sends Pitch flying into a wall of ice.
"Ouch," Pitch says, struggling to get up. "Do you have to hit so hard?"
"I apparently didn't hit you hard enough," Jack replies, stepping lightly from the wind and onto the snow. He drops down, his knees digging into Pitch's shoulders, pinning the other spirit in place. Jack flashes an angelic smile. "I was trying to shatter your bones."
Everything hurts, and Pitch is certain he has more than a few broken bones. Jack leans forward, pushing his weight further onto Pitch, knocking his bare feet against sore ribs. Pitch rasps, "I'm not sure that's physically possible."
"Right, because the laws of physics apply here," Jack snorts. Then he shrugs. "You're probably right. Though, it doesn't hurt to try."
Pitch rolls his eyes, which sends a sharp pain shooting through his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you cracked my skull."
"How are you even talking?" Jack asks, his hands coming up to cradle the other man's head.
Fingers slip through Pitch's hair, gently probing the the back of his skull. They come away dark with blood, and Jack abruptly lets go. Lights spark dangerously across Pitch's vision as his head bounces against the frozen ground. Jack slams down against Pitch's torso, snapping several ribs into his lung.
Before Pitch can react, Jack lashes out, grabs him by the throat and squeezes, choking off his scream. "How are you still breathing?"
Pitch scrabbles to pull the hand away, but between the broken bones and his dislocated wrist, he can't get ahold of Jack. He's seeing stars when Jack loosens his grip, allowing fresh air to flow back into his lungs. Pitch groans, not sure whether his bruised throat or his battered chest hurts more. The noise is wet though, sucking, and he tastes blood when he coughs.
Jack's fingers jab into the flesh of his neck, spreading frost across his already ashen skin. Pitch immediately feels light-headed as his arterial blood begins to freeze. The expression upon Jack's face is neutral, his eyes calculating as he watches Pitch slip away. Just as Pitch feels his consciousness start to unravel, Jack's mouth curves into a soft smile, but his eyes reflect something else altogether when leans in close to whisper "I'm always afraid you won't come back...."
Jack changes the game, kissing Pitch gently and swallowing down the Nightmare King's last startled gasp. The last thing Pitch sees is the disapproving Moon hanging above them.
Rating: mature
Genre and/or Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, blackice, blackfrost
Spoilers: takes place after the movie
Warnings: creepiness and violence
Summary: They might be immortal, but they most certainly can die.
A/N: Not even sorry for this.
Since Pitch had figured out how to corrupt the Dreamsand into nightmares, he figured that bringing Sandman over to his side, willingly or not, couldn't that much more difficult. But things had not gone gone according to plan. Pitch certainly hadn't intended to kill the Guardian of Dreams. At the time, he hadn't thought that any of them could die. He considered that belief validated by the fact that Sandman returned just fine.
As it turns out, he's wrong - they most certainly can die.
When Jack silently steals into North's workshop, skulking in the shadows as though he doesn't belong, Pitch's curiosity gets the best of him and he follows, slinking after the winter spirit through the same shadows. The yetis pay no attention to Jack, he has permission to be there, after all, but they hone in on Pitch like a pack of hounds on a fox. Not one of his finer moments, considering he has just outed himself to the very same Guardians who had him consigned to the bowels of the earth - he flees. And Jack, still a little whirlwind of chaos who wreaks havoc in the name of fun, gives chase without thought, as though nothing has changed.
It happens by accident, possibly too much pent up emotion on Jack's part, or maybe he simply underestimates his own strength - Pitch certainly isn't any weaker than he had been before his big fight with the Guardians - but he blasts the Nightmare King into oblivion.
Pitch's next breath is fueled by Jack's terror and guilt. Jack doesn't tell anyone what he's done, and instead goes into hiding. The other Guardians let him be mainly because Jack has been isolated from everyone for the last three hundred years - he'll talk when he's ready. Jack is also very good at covering his tracks.
Pitch knows all this because it's his job to know, and he knows just how alike he and Jack are. They even share the same fondness for helpless children and little tooth fairies - Jack can't hide from Pitch forever.
Returning the favor, killing Jack, turns out to be more fun than Pitch had anticipated. Victory is sweet until he glances down at Jack's lifeless body, and Pitch feels distress, a downward tug somewhere deep within his rib cage that he hasn't felt in ages. When a pained breath suddenly escapes from Jack and he lifts himself up onto his elbows, turning his questioning blue eyes to Pitch, the sense of relief that washes over Pitch is even sweeter.
Pitch backs away, his steps cautious as Jack watches him. When Jack grins, Pitch bolts.
It takes him some time to realize he isn't actually going after the Guardians. Pitch does what he can to annoy the them whenever he gets the opportunity - he certainly doesn't want them to forget he exists again - but they're too busy trying to rebuild their empires and he's still recovering from his own failed grab for power. Besides, the Moon is still well beyond his reach; any serious attempt from Pitch would be wasted.
He just wants to see Jack, and Jack obliges.
The Guardians seem to think Jack jumps in to help because he craves their attention. His frost trick is quite effective against Pitch, and though they appreciate his gesture, they continue to think that Jack isn't much different than the children they protect.
If only they knew.
The Moon hangs in the sky, full and disapproving, as Pitch follows a flight of Tooth's little fairies. The thought of capturing them crosses his mind. He actually likes the colorful little hummingbirds - or rather, he misses the way their terrified chittering filled his lair.
Then Jack appears from out of nowhere, all courageous smirks and undaunted laughter, to save the day. There's simply no way Jack could have gotten there so quickly unless he'd been following him, and even Pitch recognizes how that could seem a little disturbing.
He disappears into shadows, fleeing to Antarctica - because Jack won't play if there's a chance that others might get hurt - and Jack gives chase.
This is just another game to Jack, but it's special, something shared only between the two of them.
Jack gets the upper hand this time, and he sends Pitch flying into a wall of ice.
"Ouch," Pitch says, struggling to get up. "Do you have to hit so hard?"
"I apparently didn't hit you hard enough," Jack replies, stepping lightly from the wind and onto the snow. He drops down, his knees digging into Pitch's shoulders, pinning the other spirit in place. Jack flashes an angelic smile. "I was trying to shatter your bones."
Everything hurts, and Pitch is certain he has more than a few broken bones. Jack leans forward, pushing his weight further onto Pitch, knocking his bare feet against sore ribs. Pitch rasps, "I'm not sure that's physically possible."
"Right, because the laws of physics apply here," Jack snorts. Then he shrugs. "You're probably right. Though, it doesn't hurt to try."
Pitch rolls his eyes, which sends a sharp pain shooting through his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you cracked my skull."
"How are you even talking?" Jack asks, his hands coming up to cradle the other man's head.
Fingers slip through Pitch's hair, gently probing the the back of his skull. They come away dark with blood, and Jack abruptly lets go. Lights spark dangerously across Pitch's vision as his head bounces against the frozen ground. Jack slams down against Pitch's torso, snapping several ribs into his lung.
Before Pitch can react, Jack lashes out, grabs him by the throat and squeezes, choking off his scream. "How are you still breathing?"
Pitch scrabbles to pull the hand away, but between the broken bones and his dislocated wrist, he can't get ahold of Jack. He's seeing stars when Jack loosens his grip, allowing fresh air to flow back into his lungs. Pitch groans, not sure whether his bruised throat or his battered chest hurts more. The noise is wet though, sucking, and he tastes blood when he coughs.
Jack's fingers jab into the flesh of his neck, spreading frost across his already ashen skin. Pitch immediately feels light-headed as his arterial blood begins to freeze. The expression upon Jack's face is neutral, his eyes calculating as he watches Pitch slip away. Just as Pitch feels his consciousness start to unravel, Jack's mouth curves into a soft smile, but his eyes reflect something else altogether when leans in close to whisper "I'm always afraid you won't come back...."
Jack changes the game, kissing Pitch gently and swallowing down the Nightmare King's last startled gasp. The last thing Pitch sees is the disapproving Moon hanging above them.