Hey there, everybody! So this is a fic that a co-wrote with Jarjarblinx1. I put out a request for writing buddies, and she answered. And now we're writing wonderful BlackIce amazingness for you all ^^ Also, thanks a ton to "~black-angel-kitteh" for letting us use their picture for the cover art. Isn't it great?! "~black-angel-kitteh" is on deviantart. Go check out their other stuff on their account, and I hope you all enjoy!

"Beautiful..." he whispered to himself. That was the only word he could think of to describe what he was seeing in his head. White hair fell into blue eyes, as he tossed an oil pastel into the pile with the others. He grabbed for another one, furiously attacking his paper, for fear of not being able to convey the beauty of what he saw in his mind. When at last he had finished, he sat back with a happy sigh, running a hand through his hair and habitually wiping clean his hands on the bottom of his shirt. It wasn't until he heard his name being called that he stopped looking at his picture.

"Jack!" A woman walked into the room, pulling on a coat over her cocktail dress. "Jack, we're going to be late." The brunette looked up to see her brother standing by his easel with colored finger marks on his cheeks and shirt, and she laughed.

"Oh. Hey, Tooth. Sorry, I just wanted to finish this one up before we left." He briefly nodded his head towards the intricately drawn design on his paper. "You ready to go?"

"Of course I am. But are you?" She pointed down at his shirt.

"Yeah. Why would you-" He looked down to see what she was pointing at, letting out a groan. "Oh no...Mum's not going to be happy."

"Well, that's too bad for her. You don't have time to change. Come on!" Tooth grabbed Jack by the wrist and started dragging him towards the door, hardly giving him enough time to grab a few things on the way out. Jack pulled his coat on over his blue button up shirt. As they walked down the stairs, he quickly slipped on a white tie, leaving it loose around his neck. Tooth laughed. "Do you think that by putting on a tie, you'll really be able to distract Mom from your messy shirt?"

Jack shrugged, nudging his sister with a smile. "It's worth a shot. I may hate the things, but if it might get her off my back for once I'll put up with it." He opened the door for her, before they left the building, walking down the streets towards the restaurant.

"Tooth! Jack!" Voices called to them as soon as they stepped foot inside the cozy Italian cafe, and the two of them made their way over to their family's table. They took the only two seats left open, sitting across from each other. Tooth was next to North and April, and Jack was stuck between Mrs. North and Julius.

"Hey, Jules. How's it going?" Jack gave his little brother a fist bump, before turning to give Mrs. North a hug. "Hello, Mum. Sorry we're late. There was...a little traffic on the way," he lied.

No sooner had the man sat down, his mother caught the lie. "Jackson Frost, you were painting weren't you?" she scolded. Leaning over to him, she quickly licked her thumb and scrubbed away the color marks that Jack had accidentally gotten on his forehead when he had run his painted fingers through his hair.

"So what if I was, Mum? I'm an artist. It's what we do. We do art," he groaned, trying to pull away, but his mother wouldn't let him.

"You know it's not that I don't like you doing art. I just don't see why you can't go an hour without working on another piece. You could use that time to go out and find a real job. Or a girlfriend. Something else." She moved on to his loose tie, suddenly slipping it up so tight that she nearly choked the man.

"Mum! I seriously do not want to talk about this right now." Mrs. North shrugged and leaned over to rub a hand lovingly on Jules' head. Jack smirked and directed an eyeroll at his father. Jules was his mother's favorite and Jack...well, Jack was not. If Mrs. North could possibly hate a child, then it would be Jack. It was hard being the oldest and adopted to boot, but he didn't mind. Jack was satisfied having the love of his father and Tooth, and his art, of course.

North chuckled deeply, looking over at his wife. "Darling, leave the poor boy alone. We are here for a relaxing family dinner. Not to judge his lifestyle...as disturbing as it may be." He winked at his son, earning a grateful look.

Tooth sent an apologetic look to her older brother, but she didn't, couldn't, say anything, with April talking a mile a minute at her. The youngest of the siblings, though she was nineteen years old, acted every bit like the stereotypical blonde high school girl. It annoyed Tooth to no end, but what could she do? April was her baby sister after all. Jack was grateful that he was spared from that at least. He wasn't 100% sure he'd be able to handle April's constant chattering.

Mr. North held up a hand and motioned for the waitress to come over. A young girl walked over, maybe just turned twenty-one. She took one look at Jack and sent him a sexy look that might have turned him on if he actually found girls attractive. His looks were good for something, seeing as she made sure to get him exactly what he wanted. When she had taken down his order, she sent another wink his way and sashayed away, swaying her hips from side-to-side in what she clearly thought was a flirtatious way. Jack snickered behind his hand, earning a reproachful look from his Mum. "At least she's trying. It's more than I can say for you."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You know very well why I wouldn't try anything with a girl, Mum. I told you I was gay three years ago. Three years. Why do you still insist on trying?"

"Is it wrong for a mother to want only the best for her children? Jules is engaged and will give me grandchildren with lovely looks when they're finally married. April and Toothiana will marry too and give me more grandchildren. You can't give me grandchildren if you're," she lowered her voice to a sharp whisper, "having relations with a man. Men can't get pregnant and give me grandchildren!"

"What's wrong? Afraid of what people will think if they hear your son's a fag?" He stood up on the chair and put his hands around his mouth, amplifying his words. "Hey everyone, I'm a gay fag! I like men!" He felt a hand pull roughly on the bottom of his shirt, pulling him back down to a seated position. "And why do I need to give you grandchildren, if you'll be getting plenty of them Tooth, Jules, and April?" Mrs. North quirked an eyebrow. Mr. North just shook his head and covered his eyes with a hand. He had taught his son well, but Jack had yet to learn never to open the floodgates when it came to Mrs. North.

"Why? Because I want to be surrounded by my family, when I die. I want to know that there will be people around me who love me and will miss me. Jules will have his wife and children, and April and Toothiana will have their husbands and children. And then there will be you, openly flaunting your uselessness. Two men together is like having two nails and no wood. You have the tools to create, but you can't because the pieces you have are useless. Marry a girl, Jack, and then maybe I'll let up."

Jack frowned. "Why can't you just accept that this is who I am? I'm an artist. So what? If I die without meeting the right guy, at least I'll be happily single than unhappily married. I like men. So what? Maybe I'll find the right guy some time in the future, and maybe I won't. But I won't force myself to be in a relationship I don't want. I'm single. So what? I have my art, and I have my family. I'm happy this way. Why can't you just be happy for me for once in my life?" He looked at her, crystal blue eyes reflecting the hurt he felt inside.

"You know how I feel Jack. Marry, give me grandchildren, and then you can isolate yourself in some cave in Tibet for all I care." Jack sighed, frustrated with his mother. It had been a very long three years, since he had come out to his family. It had also been three years alone with really no one to talk to about what was going on. Perhaps that was why his art was so appealing. Through the paints on the canvas, he could convey what was going on in his heart. In some small way, the world could finally understand.

North watched his son through the entire encounter. His wife was the only mother Jack had ever known, and from day one he had done everything he could to get her love. But it was never enough for her, though she loved all of her own children without cause. Even though Toothiana was from the woman's previous relationship, North still loved the girl like she was his own. Why could his wife not do the same for Jack?

The big man cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention, as the waitress brought their food. "Can we perhaps move on to different topic? No more fighting. We are family." He saw Julius grasp his brother's hand briefly but comfortingly, and it made him happy that at least his siblings loved Jack too.

The rest of the meal was spent in some semblance of peace, since the whole family was careful not to give Mrs. North a reason to go off again. By the end of the meal, Mr. North and his children were exhausted from the effort. They paid for their meal and headed out to the car. Jules and Jack argued over who would be forced to be crushed against the window, while Tooth and April giggled and watched their brothers' antics. North broke the fight by threatening to put them both in the trunk. That shut them up and, ultimately, they both got stuck with one of the window seats.

As they drove along, Jack looked out the window, letting himself be carried away with new ideas for future paintings. Everyone in the car jumped in their seats, when they heard a scream from the back. Mr. North slammed on the brake and looked back at his silvery-haired son. "Jack, what's wrong? Are you okay!?" Jack's big blue eyes could only look out the window. Right there was the building where he knew his idol was showing his latest masterpieces. In that large building, with the tall white pillars, Pitch Black, the greatest artist Jack had ever known, was waiting.

"D-dad...can we stop here for a bit? Please please please? I have to go to this exhibit!" he begged, glancing between his father and the building. His fingers were already on the door handle, ready to leap out of the car and run in, if the man told him 'no.' Mr. North smiled and pulled into the parking lot by the side of the building. He stopped the car and all of the kids tumbled through the doors, anxious to get out. Mrs. North glared at her husband, and all he could do was shrug. When it came to Jack, he could deny him nothing.

Pitch looked down at the program for the evening with boredom. He was one of the main showcases for the art gallery tonight, but he found that he didn't really care. He just wanted to go home, have a cup of coffee, and be with people on the same intellectual level as himself. For the first time that evening, he looked up and smiled, when he saw his friend Sandy walking up. His full name was Sanderson Mansnoozie, but with such a name, it's no surprise that the jolly, short fellow preferred the nickname. "Sandy, I didn't expect to see you here!"

The stout, blond man walked up with a big smile on his face, looking up at his best friend. "Of course I'd be here. When have I ever missed one of your exhibits?" Sandy snatched the program out of Pitch's hands, opening it to see who else would be showcasing tonight.

Pitch already knew that he was on there, among some other less-known artists. Unfortunately, Sandy's talent as a sculptor had been overlooked. Pitch thought it would disappoint his friend to not see his name there, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that Sandy actually looked relieved.

Sandy looked up at the taller man. "Why're you staring at me? Afraid I'm jealous that you're in the show and I'm not?" He poked fun at his friend, golden eyes dancing with mirth.

"You're too friendly to be jealous, Sandy. Besides, you're lucky you don't have to suck up to these people. They wouldn't know art if it walked up to them and slapped them. This is my work Sandy, and I hate sharing it."

"I know you do. But just think of all the wonder you get to bring to others this way. Everybody loves your work, Pitch. At least it's better than being a starving artist on the streets." Sandy handed the program back to him. "Now, what are you waiting for? Show me your new work." He grinned.

Pitch chuckled and clapped a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. He led him over to the corner where the gallery owners had decided would best show his work. For anyone looking at the paintings, they would be unsure whether to feel depressed or mystified. The work was dark, clearly the work of an artist who had known extreme sadness. However, once meeting Pitch, such an image would quickly fly out the window. Pitch didn't look the part at all. He was tall, with black hair he always kept slicked down. His golden eyes were piercing but hard; he always kept his defenses up, so there was a stoniness to his face. It was his personality, though, that really sealed the deal.

Pitch was rude, selfish, arrogant, and proud. He knew he was a good artist, and he didn't need others to tell him so. In the whole world, there were only maybe five people who knew the true Pitch. To the billions of other people in the world, Pitch was cold. They couldn't deny that his art earned him the title of King of Darkness; his personality only further emphasized that he thought himself above everyone like a true king.

Darkness wasn't exactly Sanderson's forte, though. All of his own work was geared more towards the fantastical things of dreams, but that didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate and admire his friend's work. Sandy stroked his chin thoughtfully, purposely doing the completely cliche act while observing one of Pitch's paintings. "As always, you live up to your nickname, Pitch," he chuckled.

As always, Sandy had found the one painting in the collection that was Pitch's favorite. It was a dark painting of a stormy sea, and on the right side was a jetty with a lighthouse on it, but there was no light. This meant that the ships in the painting were destined to crash on the nearby rocks. Standing by the lighthouse is a woman dressed in white. She's the only spot of color as her red-brown hair stands out from the blacks and greys of the scenery. Pitch looked sadly at this painting. It was strange to think that he had been happy when he painted this.

Sandy reached out to put a hand on Pitch's arm. "You okay?"

Pitch looked down at his sandy-haired friend, his golden eyes softening a little at the concerned expression. "Of course. Come on, we need to prepare ourselves. The doors should be opened soon."

So what do you guys think? Does it have the makings of greatness? As always, reviews are amazing gifts to others such as us. Will you gift us with your opinions? :')