hello guys, this is my first fanfic for ROTG so please forgive me if i get any of the facts about the characters wrong! i CAN NOT wait for this movie to hit theaters! Jack is hot, Bunny is badass, sandy is adorable and i could just go on forever but i wont, instead, heres the story i whipped up today while taking a stroll outside in the woods. this is going to be a two-shot i think...

One:

Jack loved the cold. The crisp crunch of the leaves under his foot gave him comfort. The winds biting at the remnants of autumn lifted his spirits. The silence of the forest roared in his ears. It was the last day of autumn, and then he would unleash himself and let his soul pour onto the land, freezing everything in his path. But for now he just enjoyed the world before it disappeared under a blanket of snow. He strolled through the breaks in the woods, his staff over his shoulder.

He entertained himself with childish curiosity. He nibbled on some sort of wild berry which would earn him a scolding from Tooth if she knew. It was foolish of him to eat a berry that he didn't know was safe, but then again, children are foolish. He dragged the stems of the berries across the dirt, watching as the berries stained the ground. Like a child, when he grew bored, he moved on.

He found interest with a particularly strait stick. He imagined he was a knight, with silver armor and a that there was a damsel captured that he must rescue. Somewhere far from here, she was wishing for him, from her window of her tower. He struck the nearest tree and moved like he was dancing. He poked the tree after giving it a good whipping, in his mind, striking down his enemy. He would trek over mountain and through rivers to reach the princess. But again, he grew bored and something else caught his attention and he abandoned his fantasy.

He plunged the stick into the ground, as if claiming territory of new worlds undiscovered. When he pulled it out, he watched as the dirt crumbled around it. He then spent the next five minutes on the ground, digging tunnels into the dirt until the cold, hard ground was crumbled dirt. With a sigh, he struck the stick to stand erect in the ground and rose to move on.

He then started to wave his staff, striking down invisible foes, winning a battle for victory. He was so enthralled in his games that he did not notice the clouds above slowly darkening, slowly closing in around him. He distracted himself with making snowflakes, delicately detailing them with their own unique pattern. He observed his handy work when he was contempt with them, and he did not fly away nor melt in his hands.

He held his hands up to his mouth and blew softly, letting the snowflakes float off through the wind.

A new game formed in his head but he didn't notice the yellow eyes, stalking him. he waved his staff around, trying to catch the snowflakes on the wood. That's when the wind stopped whistling, the crows in the distant silenced and his heart skipped. His eyes narrowed, crystal and sharp, scanning the trees and paths of the forest. With the snap of a twig, his heart clenched and stumbling back, his foot caught on a root and he fell against the hard ground, his staff rolling out of his hands. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head, which pounded and would no doubt have a lump in the morning.

"I think that's the least of your worries, boy." A cold voice echoed through the wood and Jack froze in fear, his eyes going wide, his heart pumping against his chest.

He turned, quick as a flash, and lunged for his staff, but his pale hand was inches from it when he was dragged from it by his foot, and he kicked and thrashed but he was powerless without his staff. The Nightmare King loomed over him as he stared up in fear into the yellow eyes of his enemy, of his nightmare.

"Hello Jack."

Bunnymund hated the cold. He also hated thorns, and right now, Jack Frost was a thorn in his side. Jack had innocently said he was going for a stroll in the woods, which North deemed perfectly fine, but that was six hours ago when Jack promised he'd be back in two. At first North had shrugged it off, knowing it was hard to keep track of time when you're having fun, and had gone back to work in his workshop. But time got away from him as well and when he eventually glanced at the clock, he nearly flew back across the room in shock.

North had begged Bunnymund to use his magic tunnels to find Jack. Bunnymund agreed, anything to get North to stop crawling at his feet.

Bunnymund's fur bristled against the cold wind. This time of year was his least favorite, everything dies, the green, the warmth, even the sun fades a bit more each day. He preferred spring much more; when life in the world is born again the green escapes the clutches of the deadly winter months.

His nose twitched as he sniffed the air, his feet shuffled against the dirt and fallen leaves. His paws fingered the ground beneath him, searching for clues. All he found were the remaining stems of some sort of wild berry. But then, just when he thought they were nothing, he caught the scent of mischief.

Jack reached for his staff, only to be hit across the head with a strong fist. Stars danced across his swimming vision as he clutched his head and stumbled underneath his own weight. Before he could fall a pair of arms caught him, but they were not warm or welcoming, they were cruel and unforgiving. He weakly tried to fend them off but he failed as the swung him around and then let go. Only when he slammed against the ground had he realized he had been thrown.

"This is for your friends, Jack." Came the voice as a sharp foot was connected with his unprotected torso. It was unexpected and the air dashed from his lungs, leaving him gasping against the dirt as he was kicked again.

"I'm really doing them a favor." Another kick and Jack's fingers dug painfully into the cold, partly frozen ground and tears sprung to his eyes. Where was his staff? If only he had his staff. Before another kick could burst his lungs, his caught the foot in his grasp and twisted as hard as he could. There was a cry of anger from above him and he was given a few precious seconds to catch his breath as his enemy recovered. But before he could draw his second breath, he was in the air again. This time he was slammed into a thick oak, the bark scratching his face and the impact causing his body to ricochet and land with a thumb onto the ground. He couldn't breathe, his lungs felt as though they were on fire like when he had drowned. Only when a long fingered hand pushed against his chest did he feel pain racing up and down his sides. His pushed his head back against the ground as he fought to breathe, but it was impossible to do so without gasping at the pain.

"You see Jack…"

A heavy foot rested on his right leg.

"This helps them because I'm warning them…"

Pressure was applied to his limb and Jack found it hard to breathe.

"…what will happen if they try to stop me again."

Pitch's face was inches from Jack's but Jack could hardly see it. His eyes watered and were unfocused through the haze of pain.

"Thank you for helping me warn them. I think they'll really get the message this time."

Pitch shifted his weight and there was an audible snap that echoed through the woods but it was drowned out by Jack's anguished cry of agony. His body arching, his fingernails digging, the tears leaking out the corners of his eyes.

Scratches on random trees got Bunnymund's attention. So did the stick stuck in the ground. Loose dirt was all over the place, and in them left footprints. Bunnymund followed them for a while, but eventually they faded out leaving the Pooka back to relying on his sense of smell. He sniffed the air and there was a smell to it that he did not like, not at all. He followed his nose and ran along the ground, searching for anything that might point him in the right direction.

After a while he sighed and stopped to catch his breath. Thoughts that maybe Jack had gone back by now were fluttering around in his head. Maybe the little frostbite was back at the North Pole, being cuddled and cooed by Tooth while sipping on hot cocoa. Bunnymund could just see the smirk on the boy's smug face when he returned, his fur half frozen.

But all ideas that Jack was safe had vanished with the wind when he spotted the staff. Bunnymund's heart sank.