
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4889389.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rise_of_the_Guardians_(2012)
  Relationship:
      Jack_Frost/Pitch_Black
  Character:
      Jack_Frost_(Rise_of_the_Guardians), Emma_Overland, Ms._Overland, Pitch
      Black_(Rise_Of_The_Guardians)
  Additional Tags:
      Blood_and_gore_in_part_2, Jack_is_a_metaphor, Jack_is_human_here,
      Homoerotica, Male/Male_kiss, it's_a_metaphor, Loss_of_Innocence, Was_it_a
      wolf_or_worse, Oral_Sex, Implied/Referenced_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Implied
      Murder, Logic_is_slim, Fairy_Tale_Logic, Story_may_not_actually_make
      sense
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-09-28 Completed: 2015-11-08 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 2395
****** Among Wolves ******
by FrostAcademic
Summary
     Jackson Overland lives a quiet life, in a quiet cottage, in a quiet
     wood. All that changes the night he stays home on the yearly market
     trip to write in his fairy tale book, and night falls too early.
     Afraid of punishment for lagging so long, Jack ventures out into the
     dark woods, straying from the path. He meets not a wolf, but much,
     much worse, in the form of a dark man with a kind smile, and reaching
     fingers....
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Once Upon A Time... *****
What's the matter, dear? Why are you up so late?
I can't sleep, Mama.
Shall I tell you a bedtime story? Something nice and sweet?
Okay...
Once upon a time, there was a little girl much beloved by her mother. Because
she always wore a red hood, she was called-
No, Mama! I want a new story!
A NEW story? About what, love?
Something scary, n' new, n' with monsters..
Ah....something with monsters...a new story... I can tell you a st ory like
that, my own. A story about a boy named Jackson, but everyone simply called
him..... Jack.
Jack lived in a humble cottage at the very edge of the woods, with his mother,
and younger sister. It was a simple, but happy life for them all, even after
his father's tragic death in a hunting accident. Or, atleast, as their mother
had told them. She kept the truth hidden from her two children, to help them
stay sane and happy. If they really knew what lived in the Dark Woods, it would
be all over for the three of them.
Jack wasn't a stupid boy, but he was simple, easily pleased, and not the sort
for deep thinking. He acted on impulse, leaping before her looked every time,
more often than not ending up in trouble.
Jack was a handsome boy for his age, tall and gangly, his brown hair shaggy
from months of avoiding his mother's scissors, his smile bright, and eyes even
brighter. His outlook on life was brightest, easy going and care free. Nothing
easily fazed him.
"Oh, Jack..you'll be the death of me." His mother would say, always with a
laugh and a smile. To his sister, Jack was her closest friend, which made some
sense, as there was no family within a whole mile or so, town a day's journey
they made six times a year. The time had come again for this journey, and
Jack's mother and Emma, his dear little sister Emma, were preparing to go. Jack
was to go as well, but at the last moment he decided he wished to stay home, to
work on his book.
"Jack...the book can wait." His mother said sternly. She did encourage him, but
she worried he spent too much time with the leather tome, working at all odd
hours when the stories came to him to get them down on paper as quickly as
possible. These stories were quite detailed fantasies, telling of magical
lands, beautiful fae princesses, and wicked witches undone for good, but the
other stories he wrote...the others worried her sometimes, made her wonder
where these nightmarish tales he strung together TRULY came from. She tried not
to think of it, and did so often. But mother's minds are restless, so of course
she worried over it.
"But Mother, I've had an idea for a new one...a good one..I need to just.." He
started back into the house, but his mother grabbed his long cloaks' hem as he
just grasped the doorknob. "Jack..." She warned. He turned, looking slightly
irritated. "Mother...please let me? Just let me write it down, and I'll catch
up to you on the wood path... it won't be long, I swear it!" His eyes got that
twinkle they did when he was highly excited, and his mother couldn't so easily
ignore them. "Alright, alright... but only the first few sentences you think
of..then straight to the wood path..mind me, Jackson." She half smiled, as Jack
ducked into the house with muttered "Yes ma'am"'s on his lips.
He hurried to the small room he had at the back of the house, writing almost
feverishly in the book, as by his crafty mind and quick fingers a drawing began
to emerge, of two figures on a wooded path, walking through the dark trees
happily, while a dark shape tracked their movement.
Once there was a small cottage, where within dwelt a family of three, happy and
safe in their warm home. But for the Wolfstime, it came every year, and 'twas
the night the family went to market it came again as howls echoed through the
forest trees-
His pen fell from nimble fingers as a howl cut through the still day...day? The
sun had set slowly over the Eastern trees, and a light mist circled the trees
as night fell thick on the land. Another howl, terrifyingly close and loud,
echoing through the trees dark watch. Was it a thing to fear, or simply ignore?
Jack didn't know...but he did know his mother and sister would have reached the
village by now, and she would be cross with him for not minding her to show. As
he pulled on his traveling cloak, he stopped to look out the window, and
realized this left him a true problem: his mother would be cross with him for
leaving the house at such an hour, but she would also be cross if he stayed in
for the night. He had to pick the lesser of the two evils, punishment to follow
with unluck. A month of wood chopping, or far worse, washing the laundry, his
mother's bloomers included. Neither possibility made him feel good, but with
yet another howl, Jack knew what he had to do.
Dressing carefully in his boots, the strong leather ones saved for only the
long walk those six long times, his well worn traveling cloak of deep red, a
present from his mother, on his thirteenth birthday for becoming a man, and a
hunting knife of which she did not know, a gift from Stoic in the village, a
father figure to him all the long, fatherless years past. Dressed as such, he
opened the door of the cottage onto the dark night and misty wood, locking it
carefully behind with the worn golden key, which he kept in his pocked on a red
piece of twine. He stared at the twisting fog, as he started to walk into the
mists...
And then? What then, mama?
And then it became time for you to go to sleep. What happened next is another
story for another night, pet. Sleep well, and maybe you'll hear the end
tomorrow night.
***** Big Bad Wolf *****
Chapter Summary
     The end
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It's tommorow, mama... and you promised the end of the story.
That I did... now...where were we... in a field of flowers, correct?
No, mama! The woods, and Jack was going after his mother and sister..
Oh, yes, that's right...
 
The mist danced around his ankles as he strode through the forest path, assured
he knew the way to Burgess Towen. His mother and sister had more likely as not
taken up with the preacher's wife, as they often did on those trips, the
journey back the next morning easier with a spring in their steps after a good
rest. He could find them easily enough, and everything would be fine, despite
the punishment he would recieve for this misstep. The owl hooted loudly, and
the sound carried and echoed among the dark tree trunks, sounding like ghosts
from Hell itself were after him.
The path meandered among the dark trees, and it was only now he realized the
problem of not bringing a lantern, as all he could see was what the moon dimly
showed him, full as a copper penny in the heavens above, and twice as red for
that. It was an odd moon to see, and it made him smile to see it.
The path was mainly straight forward, only twice turning, and once at a
crossroads, it split and left the forest proper. Jack knew of this, and could
easily avoid it, but the fog twisted and turned, reveling like a living thing
in the darkness beneath the trees, making it all but impossible to keep to the
path as one might have done normally. It was almost like some sort of fairy
story his mother would read to his sister before bed when she was younger, an
unreal looking place. It disturbed him.
He kept on, holding his cloak tightly closed around his body, but the wind was
still chilly, and the cloak wasn't helping the shivering. He glanced at the
dark trees every so often, worried he'd see a faery of his own creation staring
back at him, or some horrible creature following behind him, but there was
never anything. His breathing grew raspy, as imagined devils chased him along.
The path forked at a crooked tree, long said to be of mystic or magic purpose,
cracked down the middle by lightning years before. Here, the path took two
directions into town, one through a field of wheat and summer corn, the other
through a darker section of forest, where the trees covered the sky like dying
souls grasping to Heaven, and brave men dare not venture after dark.
Jack, in his make believe fears, forgot himself at the path, and headed boldly
down the left fork, the wheat field rippling in the evening breeze behind him
to the right. It was too late to go back now, as Jack hurried along, still
chased by pretended ghouls and spectres.
But a real set of eyes watched his progress along the path, a pair of yellow
eyes that gleamed hungrily, watching from the hightops of the trees, fingers
unfurling as if to reach out to the boy, a body tensed to leap.
Jack heard the sound of trees branches rustling, and hurried along, eyes closed
to the darkness of the night, ears full of pretend sounds of the damned, and
other horrible things..with one sound he blocked out with unwilling hands true,
as footsteps padded along in his wake, lips licked seductively by a dark
tongue, eyes gleaming in the dim light. Jack glanced back, but saw nothing on
the path, as he stepped onto a branch that cracked so loudly, it was if a
musket had been fired. He stopped, worried someone had heard, looking around
the forest path.The tree's rustled gently, the wind sounding like the sighing
of the damned.
"Hello...young man..." A voice whispered, so close to his ear. Warm lips
brushed his neck, as slender fingers slid up his chest. "Why are you out alone
at such an hour? Someone...could hurt you..." The lips brushed Jack's ear,
slick and sensual. Jack jerked away from the fingers, gasping.
"I..I'm going into town, s..sir. To meet my mother...I..I'm
expected..soon..now!" His voice betrayed his fear, as the man watched with a
slight smirk on his thin, dark lips. "Oh? Are you, now..." His voice was soft,
sensual, as silky as butter. It scared him.
Slender fingers slid up under his arms, wrapping around his chest. Jack
squirmed, feeling uncomfortable, but the man had slid his shirt up to his
armpits, and was touching his belly. "So smooth..." he whispered, probling the
plain of Jack's stomach, indeed free of hair, so far. It was embarrassing to
him, to be hairless at his age. The fingers touched his nipples, and gently
twisted one.
He gasped at the touch, something he knew was wrong, very wrong...men did
not...touch...each other... this way... He shivered, as the slender fingers
took ahold of his trousers, and had loosened the waistband. He felt his cheeks
turning red, as they fell to his ankles. The cool mist made his skinny legs
shake. Slender fingers cupped his genitals, and Jack shivered: no one had ever
touched, let alone seen, that part of him. "So nice..." The man whispered,
pressing cool lips to Jack's neck, making the boy shudder at the feeling. The
dark man had him, and he saw no way to escape. He was caught.
"See what happens when boys walk in the woods alone?" The man whispered,
pressing his body to Jack's. Coarse fur rubbed his legs, as the man chuckled.
"There are wolves about, lad...and wolves love the company of young men.."
Fingers tugged on Jack's penis, making him gasp, this feeling not known to him.
"like yourself..." Jack took a breath, become erect against his will, having
never touched himself like other boys he knew did. He knew it did something
when touched, but not this... The fingers moved along his skin, tugging gently.
"Wouldn't you like me to please you..boy?" The man whispered, lips to Jack's
ear. "Make you feel so very good.."
"Y..yes..." Jack whispered, knowing it was wrong, but wanting it...needing it..
The man slid in front of him, kneeling before him, ears perked as Jack gently
put a hand on his hair, guiding his lips to him. The man hummed gently, as he
moved his head up and down, making Jack's knees weak.
It didn't take long, and Jack finished with a cry, birds flying from the trees
at the noise. A slender finger slid into him...behind him. "We are not
done...my love.." The man whispered, as Jack felt the nail scratch him inside,
his hips jerking forward, out of his control...
He lay on the forest floor, on soft, damp moss, the man moving above him. It
hurt...and didn't..pleasure and pain racing through him, his breath coming in
harsh rasps, as the man sought his finish. It was over soon, and Jack lay next
to him, his head on the man's chest, listening to his heart race. His name was
Pitch, as he'd told him after, offering strips of meat.
The meat was tangy, salted and fresh: red ran down his chin as he chewed, and
Pitch smiled at him, teeth sharp and pointed. Jack touched one, and red welled
up on his finger tip. "What big teeth..." He whispered, as Pitch pet his hair,
like a beloved cat. "Better to eat with.."
With a whisper, Jack was again alone, and the sun rose above the trees. He was
naked, and red ran down his chest from the meat strips. He was found that way
by a passing farmer, and told of the death of his mother and sister. They had
been killed during the night by a wolf.
 
And Jack never dared leave the path again after.
I don't like that story, Mama...
Shhh...go to sleep, dear...
Mama, your teeth are funny..
Shhh..angel...it's time to sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay...for staters...I'm sorry.
     I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell for my homoerotic, people eating
     Pitch/Jack fic T.T
     Hope you all enjoyed it, and sorry for the long ass wait between
     chapters.
     This short serves as main inspiration for this story (although
     genderbent, and a little more explicitly sexual)
     Dealing with issues of sex, canniblism, and murder, wrapped up in a
     cutesy fairy tale that is horribly off, it's pretty much what I used
     to structure this story, although it's not just a rewrite of it.
     https://youtu.be/AkHbzMRA1Uc
End Notes
     This whole story is stupidly complex for this being a Rise of The
     Guardians fan fic >_> Anyone who's seen the 1984 film In The Company
     of Wolves gets where this is going with the suggestions. Part 2 will
     be much longer, and the last part of this story. I've been banging at
     this damn thing for a month, and now, at 4:27 am, it is complete.
     Part 1 is, anyway.
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