Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS!, M/M, Rape

This happens after the end of the movie, though i don't specify a time. XD Pitch is back and hell bound on revenge but (of course) things don't go according to plan. (do they ever?...) I hope you like it and if u could, please leave a review. O3O I will appreciate it immensely! ENJOY! X3

Also i do NOT own Rise of the Guardians or any of the characters!

From a Dream to a Nightmare

His frame made a striking contrast to the powdered background. Pitch black against snow white. His footsteps were silent as shadows and his skin as grey as ash. His golden eyes shone like those of a feline in the dead of night and they sparked with hatred and malice. And he could count the people he hated most on one hand.

Pitch Black was back, having finally reigned in his own Nightmares. It took a lot longer than he cared to admit, his fear of becoming nothing but a distant memory far outweighing his thirst for revenge. But it was always only a matter of time. If there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that there would ALWAYS be fear in the world. Oh sure it changed and evolved with time. Humans stopped fearing fire berthing dragons and witches and were being consumed instead by machinery and the possibility of a hostile alien takeover.

Pitch rolled his eyes, running through some of the absurd things human feared. He remembered one full grown man plagued by the paranoia of accidentally sitting on a needle and contracting an incurable disease. He always sat up on public transports and actually brought a foldable chair with him wherever he went. And to think his entire existence depended on the belief of those pathetic creatures...

Therefore he knew he'd be back from the dark hole of his twisted mind. After all, fear was a necessity. It was what kept humans alive. Wasn't it fear that prevented a child from jumping out the window like Peter Pan? Wasn't it fear that stopped a child from shoving their arm in a fire? Wasn't it fear that saved a child from going into the deep end of the pool and end up drowned? Yes, what he did was very important. The Man in the Moon wouldn't have created him otherwise...Admittedly he did want to escalade the despair a little but who could blame him for it? Nobody wanted to be a shadow. Nobody!

But despite his greatest efforts he had been driven back once more. It was like the Dark Ages all over again except that this time he wasn't going to simply bide his time. That didn't work all that well the last time...MiM could just pick out another guardian and ruin all his hard work. Pitch ground his teeth when he remembered that damn winter spirit. Jack Frost. He had it all within arm's reach, so close, but then that pesky boy had to interfere and BAM! Here he was alone and cold with only a handful of Nightmares still at his side.

He pressed his arms closer to his body, his shadowed coat far too thin for the arctic chill around him. Usually it didn't bother him but he was drained from his struggle and lack of belief. He had to concentrate on his footing since he was moving on thin ice. He was at the lake of course, where the guardians had bested him. And everything about the wonderland scenery reminded Pitch of Frost.

He beckoned to the nearest Nightmare and the powerful black sand neared him, sniffing at his stretched hand. He ran his long fingers over the muzzle affectionately, while his eyes narrowed in concentration. A plan began forming quickly and ever-so-slowly his thin lips stretched in a mischievous grin.

'I want you to find someone. Trace his fears and find him before sunrise.' He didn't have to name anyone, the fearling could easily read him mind. Pitch watched it vanish into the shadows and he glared up at the round moon.

'This time I won't let you interfere old friend.'

Jack's breathing was steady. His chest rose and fell in rhythmic motions. No sheet covered him since he despised the confinement, plus he had no issue with the cold. His staff lay beside the bed within easy reach in case of an emergency. His hair moved across his forehead, carried by the powerful breath of the Nightmare towering over him. Jack didn't even stir.

'Nice work. I'll take it from here my lovely.' Pitch solidified out of the shadows under Jack's bed, rising in a way which usually had humans trembling in terror. He shooed the creature without taking his eyes off the slumbering figure. With a snort the mare left out the open window.

'It's been a while Jack Frost.' Pitch said the name like it was venomous. 'Miss me at all?' He studied the calm features of the newly appointed Guardian. 'Sandy must have used an extra powerful dose of sweet dreams for you to be this deep under. Let's have a look shall we?'

Pitch touched the smooth forehead and the golden sand instantly began trailing around him, spiralling around his fingers and arm. Pitch watched it with great interest eager to see what sort of pleasant dream someone like Jack Frost had. A miniature figure formed and Pitch realized this as Jack.

The golden boy danced on the wind with his staff in his hand. Pitch rolled his eyes. Typical and boring. But then Jack landed and a second figure formed, nearing the winter spirit and Pitch gasped. His eyes widened in utter surprise. That second figure was a minute depiction of himself. But what exactly was he, the Bogyman, doing in a pleasant dream?!

Pitch drew Jack to him and...kissed him? The real Nightmare King couldn't believe it. He glanced at the sleeping guardian and raised an eyebrow. Jack's breathing was definitely that little bit more laboured and a soft blush creped over his cheeks. So he was having that sort of pleasant dream... Pitch directed his attention back to the golden sand.

The two figures were tangled around each other, Jack's hands united around Pitch's neck. Clothes began to be discarded and the older man began leaving trailing kisses all along the youth's chest. The Fun Guardian arched his chest, his frame on the ground now in a horizontal position. His legs mirrored his arms and joined around Pitch's waist. He moaned. No, Pitch realized the real Jack moaned and he froze when his eyes travelled to the dreamer.

Frost's fingers were grasping at the sheets. He was biting his lower lip and his head was pushing into the pillow as if aware it was being watched and he wished to hide the dark blue tinge colouring Jack's face all the way to his torso. Soft moans left the full, soft-looking, lips and the hips were gently but impatiently bucking.

'Well isn't this interesting?...But let's see what happens when we add a little extra ingredient.' Pitch called forth a thin river of black sand and let it mix with the gold turning the dream into a nightmare. The change in Jack's features was spontaneous. His eyes squeezed painfully shut and his hips stopped their movement.

The nightmare Pitch had an evil grin on and his gentle touch became violent. Jack was turned violently and Pitch forced his legs apart with his own. The older man grasped his hands and held them down, his lips biting painfully on Jack's shoulder blade. Then he was in and the real Nightmare King felt a thrilling shiver run down his spine. He could feel his body heating up as he watched himself thrust into the unprepared youth over and over.

Jack was screaming, crying, his nails scratching the black sand ground, trying to crawl away from the other's grasp. But Pitch held his hips firmly with bruising force, his expression set in a feral display of lust.

Pitch Black managed to tear his hungry orbs away from the sensual display so he could see Jack Frost's reaction to the nightmare. He expected for the guardian to be balled up and shivering, ready to cry, haunted by the black sand but he looked as if he enjoyed it...Sure he was afraid, Pitch could taste it, but there was enough desire mixed in to make the fear thrilling. Pitch stared at the quivering body with perspiration cascading down its frame. It seemed the nightmare only intensified Jack's animalistic urges and the moans were loud enough to be considered yells. They were soaked in lust.

Jack's hands were under his hoodie and his spine bridged, mimicking the reaction of his dream double as it received an extra powerful thrust. Jack fell back on the bed, his breathing ragged but stabilising and Pitch grinned when he saw the wet patch on the brown trousers.

'Well that was unexpected. But I think I know what to do now...' Pitch called back his sand, letting Jack relax back into his pleasant dreams, and melted into the shadows once more.

If there was one thing more terrifying than having a nightmare it was having said nightmare become reality.

Jack landed smoothly, the wind spiralling around him in a comforting manner. He smiled weakly but it didn't reach his eyes.

'Sorry old pal. I just need to calm down and I'll be fine again.' He knew that was probably a lie. He moved across the ice of his lake, the lake of his death and re-birth, with lithe steps. The end of his staff trailed over the surface and ice flowers bloomed behind him in a beautiful bouquet. The dream from the previous night was still fresh on his mind. Or should he say the nightmare?...It did scare him but in an exciting, thrilling sort of way. And what exactly was he doing dreaming that sort of dream about Pitch Black of all people?! That question scared him even more than the nightmare itself.

'Afraid Jack? Of me?' Jack twisted in a full 180 degrees, his staff in his arms between himself and...nobody. Jack turned his head from side to side, searching for the source of the voice. He knew it was Pitch Black's. He knew it and it scared him. He didn't expect him to be back so soon...

'Show yourself!' Jack hated that slight tremble in his voice and he hoped Pitch didn't hear it.

'I recall someone saying such bravado about not fearing anything. Was it you Jack? Or is that tremor in your voice a result of something else entirely?' Before Jack could ponder the question further, he felt his hands being gripped and he dropped his staff. He looked down in alarm and realized that whips of darkness had him in their hold. He struggled but that only made them pull his wrists painfully around his back. He was forced to his knees.

'Oh yes. Your fear tastes delicious.' Jack stopped and his large blue eyes fell on a black boot. He gingerly looked up to see Pitch leaning over him. Yes, he was very afraid and it was only his stubborn nature which kept that fear from showing plain as day. His bonds eased up and the pain left the moment he stopped struggling.

'Pitch...' The Nightmare King grinned at the dreading wide eyes looked up at him and the whispering voice so musical to his ears. 'Why are you here?'

'You didn't actually expect me to be gone forever did you? It was only a matter of time before I showed up. Wasn't that my final parting warning to you all?' Pitch spoke in that taunting manner of his but it was thinly veiled by just a hint of anger. Every time he thought of the Guardians and how they foiled his scheme he felt his heart tighten, squeezed by the claw of hatred. 'How perfectly naive.'

'Whatever your planning it's not gonna work. We'll always be here to stop you and protect the children.' Jack used his own anger at being powerless as his defence. A shield behind which he could hide all his other emotions. He was shocked to discover one of them was joy at Pitch's return. And that was sharply followed by shame. And confusion. And lust. No! Not lust! Definitely not lust!

'Oh don't worry about that. What I have planned involves you. Only you.' Pitch ran his fingers up Jack's throat and tilted his head up so that blue orbs met gold. The winter spirit opened his mouth to say something and that proved to be his undoing. Before he could form so much as a syllable Pitch's lips were on his, capturing and dominating them. Jack offered no resistance. He was too incredulous to think, forget about act.

Pitch knelt in front of him so he could have a better access angle to the mouth he was devouring and continued to let his tongue roam freely. Jack tasted like fresh snow and cold wind. He tasted of fun and play. Pitch also tasted the spicy tinge of fear and it was the most effective aphrodisiac.

Finally Jack found himself again and he began putting up an opposition or what looked like one. He was struggling against the bonds but leaning in harder towards his captor. Pitch observed it all with open curiosity and deepened the kiss, bringing forth the first moan of that evening. His nails scraped up Jack's scalp and grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling Jack away. He smirked when the youth winced and looked up at him with imploring wide eyes.

Pitch rose to his feet, Jack's eyes following him, and with a twist of his hand commanded the shadows to do his bidding. They pulled Jack to the ground and held him there, his frame stretched on the frozen surface. Ice crystals began to form around him in intrigued patters.

'I know what you dream of.' Pitch spoke in that naturally seductive tone of his and it made shivers run up the Guardian's spine. He hated being so damn powerless but his traitorous body seemed to spark from every touch and every word. Jack looked away, embarrassed at having his most secret desires known. His mouth was as dry as a rock and his tongue refused to string words together.

'And I know what haunts you in your nightmares.' The night seemed to turn five shades darker and Pitch's voice lost any pretend softness it held. He was once more the Nightmare King. The Bogyman. The man who made adults shake in their boots and run screaming for the hills. The herald of fear and terror.

The vining shadows rose threateningly above Jack's incapacitated frame and attacked. They yanked at his hoodie and the lining of his trousers, pulling and ripping until he was naked. Jack struggled all right, kicking and biting, yelling and cursing, but he was far outmatched and he ground his teeth, looking anywhere except at the smirking King. He felt tears pooling at the corners of his eyes but he held them back, determined to hold on to at least a shard of his broken pride.

'Why are you doing this?' A whisper. A plea.

'Why? Why?!' Pitch's coolness melted in the face of his red-hot rage. Snarling like one of his precious Nightmares he dropped on his pray, his knees flanking the thinner spirit on both sides, and his hands slamming on either side of Jack's head. He was close enough that their foreheads were almost touching and Jack could count Pitch's eyelashes. He stared up into the golden abysses and saw a multitude of conflicting emotions flickering in the space of a second. Molten rage, crippling loneliness, painful sadness, desired acceptance and incriminating fear.

'I'm only doing what you and your precious Guardians did to me. You sat by and watched as I fell lower and lower, day by day, ignored by all and feared by none. You took everything from me so now I'm going to do the same to you.' Pitch's words were soaked in spite and each one hit Jack like a physical blow. And the most horrible part of all was that he believed Pitch was right. He understood better than anyone what it was like to live unseen and unnoticed day by day, hoping that someone would extend a friendly hand or say a kind word of acknowledgement. Maybe if they would have been kinder to Pitch they could have prevented his fall into complete darkness...Maybe...

He lost his trail of thought and a scream tore out of his throat. Pain bloomed from his lower half and it sprat through him like wildfire. Above him Pitch was grinning malevolently. The shadows dug deeper and pushed the unprepared ring of muscle further apart uncaring for Jack's pleas and spilled tears. They thrust in and out at a brutal pace from the very start, not giving the youth a chance to adjust to the alien sensation.

'Please!...St-Stop!...Pitch...' Pitch felt something twist inside him. He felt so angry it was making him sick. He didn't stop his shadows from raping the spirit but the sight wasn't quite as pleasing as he thought it'd be. His grin became more and more forced until he dropped it altogether. He didn't understand why he wasn't feeling joy though. Wasn't this what he wanted? Revenge on those who wronged him? Wasn't the thought of bringing his enemies to their knees the only thing which gave him the strength to rise once more from his prison?

Unconsciously, his doubts transferred to the shades under his control and the pace slowed down dramatically. They still continued to rut inside the tight tunnel but now they were searching for something. The velvety shadows caressed along the abused flesh soothingly touching everything in a way only they could. They had the properties of water and they filled every part of Jack without causing any more pain. And then they found the magic spot.

Pitch was drawn out of his wondering when a wanton moan drifted to his acute ears. While questioning his motives he stopped focusing on Jack and he missed the transition from pained expression to pleasured one. His golden eyes widened at the sight. It was so much better than the pathetic miniature version created by gold and black sand. Every time the shades thrust in they were followed by a buck of Jack's hips and a soft moan or gasp. His eyes were dilated enough to make them look navy instead of their usual azure bright selves. His lips were redder than ever since he'd been biting them and his moist hair fell over his eyes like a curtain, swaying with every movement in an alluringly enticing manner.

'Undo the...the binds...' Pitch didn't know why he listened but he did. He was curious to see what Jack would do now that his hands were freed. The shadows continued their thrusting.

The Winter Guardian brought his arms by his side, flexing his fingers to get some circulation back into them, moans still streaming out of him with every push of the shadows. He brought them up gingerly, running along Pitch's own arms to rest them on the petrified shoulders. Pitch watched him with a sort of wondering fascination. He expected for Jack to react violently, to reach for his staff, to push him away. Not a gentle touch...

The shadows slowed down until they abandoned their task altogether. They slithered away to merge with their master, becoming one with Pitch's long cloak. Jack's fingers made first contact with Pitch's skin when they touched the nape of his neck and the cold shiver reverberated through his entire being. But that was instantly forgotten when Jack reached up and kissed him. Not a heated, dominating, ferocious kiss. Not like the way he had kissed Jack. The soft lips were gentle and loving against his and it broke something inside him. The fingers moved to tangle through the shade's silver hair and bring them closer.

Pitch pulled back, afraid of Jack's kindness. This was not supposed to happen. He was not supposed to feel guilty! But the Guardian held on and pulled him back, his eyes shining with mirth and Pitch let himself be led. He let himself be kissed and for once in a very long time...He let himself be loved.

Jack began peeling down the black clothes, revealing the ashen skin to the elements. He ran his hands down and up the older man's back, leaving pleasant chills in his wake. It was too much to take quietly and Pitch pinned Jack's thin wrists beside his head making him gasp. He took one last second to look at the boy who managed to make his dead heart beat once more before he captured his lips in a passionate kiss. The battle was no longer one of dominance. It was clear who was really in control...

Pitch didn't have the patience to fully discard his trousers, only to free his member from its terrible confinement. Jack joined his long legs around Pitch's waist and drew him in closer. He could feel the other's need pressing against him and he moaned into the kiss. The sound rolled off of his tongue and was eagerly swallowed up by the Bogyman. In one fluent motion Pitch was inside and he broke the kiss, the shock was so great. Jack was a winter sprite in and out and the fresh around his hot flesh was ice cold. But he wasn't exactly a typical human either and darkness and frost always did make a nice combination.

He took a moment to adjust to the feel and give Jack time to adapt as well before he began moving, rolling his hips. His hands continued to hold Jack's, the fingers intertwining, connecting them in yet another way. He watched, hypnotised, as new levels of pleasure took over the Guardian and soon the silence was shattered by the lusty loud noises that could only be associated with sex. Jack bridged his back and arched his throat, the pale skin shinning in the moonlight. It was an open invitation and Pitch wasn't one to refuse. His teeth sank into the flesh, marking it as his, while his tongue ran over the injury in a soothing manner.

That was the final step and Jack threw himself off the metaphorical cliff's edge, sinking and drowning in the ocean of his own dreams. He called Pitch's name with desperation, saying more through that one word than he could have imagined and bringing the Nightmare King to his own high. The thin ice under the two cracked and splintered but still held them. Neither seemed to register the dangerous situation.

The sound of ragged breathing replaced the loud moans. Pitch shook his head, his eyes fluttering open, having finally managed to regain his senses and glanced at the spirit under him. Jack was out cold. The exertion proved to be too much for him and his system simply shut down. Their fingers were still intertwined. Pitch touched the frost white hair as if afraid it would crumble like the delicate icing on a cake.

'That was unexpected...' Pitch smirked when he realized those were the exact same words he whispered to Jack's sleeping frame the previous night. 'You're full of surprises.'

His rich eyes drifted to Jack's lithe throat. How easily he could end the spirit's life. All it would take was a tight, well placed squeeze and the winter sprite wouldn't even feel a thing. He could put an end to all his goody-two-shoes meddling...Forever. And yet...

Pitch got up and summoned his shadows to him. They draped over his body, forming into his clothes. With a flick of his wrist he summoned one of his trusty Nightmares. The clip clop of its powerful hoofs cracked the ice further.

'Take him to his bed, where you found him the other night. Don't harm him.' The mare snorted, its eyes widening and glancing at Pitch as if to ask if he was crazy. He was honestly thinking the same thing. 'Just do it.' He glared at it in that way which had even Nightmares running to the subterfuge of shadows. Without further ado it hurried to follow his orders.

Pitch watched as Jack vanished from his line of vision. He sighed and ran his morbidly pale hand through his hair. What was he thinking?! He shook his head, a thin grin stretching his frowning lips. Maybe it wasn't all bad. Maybe letting Jack Frost live would turn out to play to his advantage. He certainly was an interesting character...

'Jack Frost...' The boy who turned his living nightmare back into a dream.

Well i hope it was to your liking! XD Thank you for the read and if u could, please leave a review...It will make my day and u can consider it your good deed for the week. X3

HAVE A LOVELY DAY!