-Hello again, this is my 2nd ROTG fanfiction. I'm sorry if you don't necissairily like OC stories, but give it a chance, you might enjoy it. Takes place after the movie. Enjoy, reviews are highly appreciated and all are read with care and consideration-

-On a Tall, Jagged Mountain-

The storm coiled, clouds pulling in. The atmosphere tensed, like a spring wound far too tight, everything building up into a static, angry clouds roaring over the craggly, distorted mountaintop. Though he couldn't see, the Man in the Moon knew exactly what he was doing. It was the only way, the only test to see if the dreams of children could be controlled, could be given with generosity. If one could hand them dreams of love, happiness, and peace, surely they would be able to spread such ideas themselves.

After a wait that lasted what seemed like a century, the clouds suddenly roared to life like an angry lion, a quick, blindingly bright streak of lightning like none ever seen before rained down, cutting the sky in half like a haphazard knife. This streak of lightning wasn't normal. It wasn't like others ever seen before. No, this one was special. This one commanded attention, commanded almost a bit of fear from the intense, awsome power of it as it struck the mountain top.

It was a miracle it hadn't split the mountain down the center with just the sheer crack of the electric energy, instead pausing a moment at the precipiece, flashing and flairing on the spot where the new Guardian would be ressurected. If anyone deserved a second chance, especially one that would allow the protection of innocent children, then this individual was the one clear choice.

Almost as suddenly as it happened, the lightning bolt broke, exploding in the sky like a firecracker, shards of it falling weakly from the sky, as if it had just spent every last bit of energy it had in creating this new being, in transferring all of its power into one body, now slowly fading down upon them like little flecks of shining snow, like all of the stars in the night decided to fall slowly to the Earth, peppering the child's face and hair and body.

As the shards fell, the clouds parted, moving far too quickly for any normal storm, revealing a moon at full might, shining a single beam down upon the ressurected being below it. The Man in the Moon looked over the girl, analyzing her appearence and how drastically it had changed. Her hair was cropped close to her head and choppy, longer bangs in layers over her delicate, closed eyes. It was bright, growing brighter as the pieces of its progenitor peppered it into a blonde that, when the beams of the moonlight hit it, shone like the sun, like little lightning bolts intertwined within the locks.

Her skin, pale, with the faintest hint of a glow around her cheekbones only when the light hit it. Her thin body, small outlines of thin, lean muscles along her arms and stomach. Clothed in a bright yellow tank top, riding up to her ribs, showing a remarkable scar just below her navel. It was five inches long, glowing an unnatural glow like her hair and face. A constant reminder of her death. Loose, black jeans, hanging just below her hip bones.

Something about her seemed...interesting. Her appearence unhuman, glowing faintly like the reflection of the sun, and yet..yet there was an untamed darkness residing within her. The Man in the Moon sensed this, delving deeper, concerned that this might have been a failed attempt at creating a Guardian, something he'd never done before after such careful precision with Pitch.

The Guardian of Dreams, that's what the title he wanted to give this girl. To give the children peaceful sleeps, protected from any and all nightmares. This would require a very serene, kind-looking, warm person, one who knew how to create joy and comfort, the epitamy of safety and protection. These things had to be part of her center, had to define her very being.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he delved into her layers. The layers surrounding her center, analyzing each of them... His hope slowly drained, witnessing the utter oppisite of what he required of the guardian wrapped around her center. Wild. Untamed. Angry. Corrupted. Irresponsible. Each layer, peeled back to reveal yet another dissapointment. And then anoter layer. This one shocking the Man in the Moon to the point where he faultered, pausing and trying to fully analyze what he was witnessing.

Buried deep inside her, forming an almost protective layer around her center and yet also branching out, spreading through her veins as if a bloodsource, was the unmistakable intensity of a power that the Man in the Moon had never witnessed before, not in his uncountable years of existance. It pulsated, it raged. A pure energy and strength that startled even him, the man who had seen every form of power available. He hadn't meant for this to happen, surely. Even he couldn't have fathomed creating a power of this magnitued to a Guardian!

That, coupled with the other traits that this child held, was enough to fully convince him that this child should not be allowed a second chance, for fear of the world and the safety of children. There was no sensible argument that could have made him keep her, knowing exactly how power of this level could corrupt someone into being a threat capable of compromising the beliefs and balance of the world...

...And yet, curiosity plauged him. With these layers, what could her center possibly be? It wouldn't hurt anything to look, and if it were truly as horrible as the layers surrounding it, then he would quickly and gladly start over, whiping clean the slate and working on yet another Guardian of Dreams. And, with mild hesitation, he looked.

That night was silent, the only sound the slight rustle of trees and residual noise of the crack of lightning. A silent night, in which the Man in the Moon saw a center that would stay with him for the rest of his existance, a center that, once he saw it, he knew. The Man in the Moon could not, after peeling back the layer of extreme power and seeing the center, what was true about this child no matter what her layers were, destroy this soul.

She might not be cut out for Guardianship, but this center, so unlike any other, hidden within such a remarkably dangerous child...and he knew.

Her life held great things. What he once saw as the downfall of the world, now seemed to be the only thing that could save it if a crisis ever arose. All because he looked at who she truly was. And what a remarkable center it was.

There was a sudden movement, the slight flutter of eyelids, peeling back to reveal two, dark, vibrant, yellow irises, clouded with pain and confusion. The Man in the Moon watched, the girl's eyes flickering up towards him, a hoarse throat managing out one, innocent question:

"...Who am I?" It would be the only question he would answer for many centuries to come. He decided to make it count.


"...That's a stupid name..."Came an ever sarcastic mutter, followed by a slight shudder. And then the eyes closed again, slipping the temporary Guardian into unconciousness once more. And, for the first time in what felt like eons, the Man in the Moon chuckled in pulsating light, before fading behind a darkened cloud, leaving the child...for now.

-Thousands of Years Later-

Crouched atop a tall lightpost, I got the best view of the city, of the things humans could create with light. Dark, oily looking streets, blackened buildings, dim cars, metal, exauhst, gas. All of it brought to life almost magically, giving it a beautiful quality, with just a few additions of street lights, office lights, and headlights. I preferred cities over anything else, simply admiring their uses of lights. No boring house lights and maybe a streetlight every now and then.

No, with their lights, they went all out. Hell, there were lights every few feet! If I had to call anyplace my home, which I didn't, not liking the restricting sound of settling in one place for too long, it would probably be in a city. Besides, where else could an invisible reject not only fit in, but get free booze? Speaking of which, I took a swing from the bottle I currently held, enjoying the soda-like fizz as it went down my throat, a drop falling onto the shiny combat boots perched on the slick surface of the streetlight.

The thick rubber on the bottom of the boots protected me from the lethal material beneath me, the shiny, deadly metal glaring up at me as the heat from it soaked into my feet through my layer of protection. I glared right back at it, hating this and only this about cities: They were made almost entirely of the one substance I couldn't stand.

A cold breeze blew by, rustling the short-cropped hair on my head and dancing across the back of my neck. I shivered, gritting my teeth and cursing quietly as I flicked a finger up, watching as a tiny, sparkling dot of light danced over it, like one of those sparks you see when a car hits the breaks too fast or if metal screeches against metal.

The tiny thing quickly warmed me, enveloping me in light and soothing over the goosebumps on my skin.

"If I ever meet Jack Frost, I'm kicking his ass."I muttered playfully, throwing a shining lock of bright blonde hair from my eyes.

"You'll have to wait until I'm finished with him, then."A sudden voice mused with an undertone of a british accent, darkly twisting through the air on a flat apartement roof next to me. Anyone else would have jumped at the sudden, dark-toned voice of a figure that made most children wet their beds and run screaming to their parents. But I didn't have a bed or any parents, and I sure as hell wasn't afraid of him.

I felt a smile wind its way onto my face, even a bit of excitement in hearing the person, a playful smile that made me throw my head back a bit. I tossed the translucent brown bottle down, not flinching as it smashed loudly onto the ground.

Slowly, I stood, turning and looking over at an empty roof. I knew better than to actually think it empty, rolling my eyes and jumping an impossible distance to the roof, landing easily and calling sarcastically,

"Well damn, where could he have gone? Maybe, over here?"I spun, the spark over my finger momentarily breaking through a wall of shadow, casting a warm glow over a towering figure, before being promptly snubbed out by a long index finger and thumb, both tinted a dark grey. I scowled and looked up, into the eyes of a man I knew all too well.

He gave me a slow, twisting grin, yellow eyes alight, though not nearly comparable to mine. This man's eyes had no light, just a glint of evil and danger that, despite myself, I had a small fondness of.

"Now now, the game's no fun if you win right away."He cooed, moving the hand that snubbed my spark to my wrist. Shadows coiled from his palm, winding around my arm and tainting it, feeling the light and power within my arm receed back as if burned. Angrily and with so little effort it was almost comical, I flicked my wrist free and sent a barrage of sparks out, eating the shadows and dancing around the man's head.

He recoiled, looking at them in disgust before taking a claw-like hand and slashing through them, only to have them dance away from him and back to me, nuzzling back into my hair and jacket. Now it was my turn to smirk and his to scowl. I placed a hand on my hip and mused,

"Pitch Black. It's been awhile since I last saw you...905 years, if I remember correctly." He composed himself, shrugging with an unreadable expression, and turned out to the city, looking over it like I had just been, knowing he was appreciating the darkness more so than the light.

"Yes, well, whose fault was that?"He mused, but the tone of bitterness had long since faded from his voice, now only a playful jab. At the memory I felt a small spark emit from my right eye as I raised my eyebrow, while at the same time feeling a jab of pain that I quickly ushered away. I slowly walked up to his side, hands on my hips as I sighed.

"Yours, if I remember. Your choice to hurt the kids, my obligation to kick you into the next 9 centuries." He let out a loud bout of laughter, shaking his head and chuckling darkly,

"My dear, I think we both know that you, of all people, have no obligations." At this I gave a genuine smile and a small shrug, though it was true, eyes flickering up to the full moon with almost a defiant look. "And still, you protected those children over me."Pitch continued in a smooth, unreadable tone. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, feeling not one shred of regret in that particular choice.

"Not like we meant anything to each other at the time, right?"I mused playfully, thinking of the rather...turbulant relationship I shared with this man. From a toxic romance to an explosive breakup, followed by playful rivalries, we were the posterchildren of what kids watched nowdays. Reality TV they called it. Instead of the chuckle and witty comeback I was hoping for, I was surprised by a gentle hand brushing across my cheek.

I stifled a shiver at the touch, turning and looking up at Pitch. Instead of a dark, malevolent smirk or furious scowl like the rest of the world saw, like I saw on so many occasions, I also saw the only part of him that even Manny himself probably couldn't see. The soft, tender part. The part that made it hard to believe he was the Boogeyman, the King of Nightmares. A light, innocent touch, so unlike that of the harsh blows and attacks he gave out to anyone, including myself, on multiple occasions.

A look that made him seem almost human. Eyes downcast and starring into my own with a kind of sad regret, a frown, eyebrows slightly drawn. This was a different, fleeting side of Pitch Black. This was the part that made me fall for him so many uncountable years ago. And I hated myself more than I could ever explain for falling for him all over again every time he gave me a touch like this, looked at me like that.

I was a spirit untamed by anyone and anything. Cast out by the Man in the Moon, nothing was my master. I went and did as I pleased, I caused destruction and chaos when I got bored, I was the most contraversal spirit to ever grace the Earth. People told tales about me like children did about the 'Big 5'. I never let anything hold me down, let any voice be my reason other than my own. I enjoyed my freedom.

Which was why I hated this power that Pitch held over me. The small things he did that took complete control over me, made me remember all of the good and the bad of what we had been through. Made me fall for him, all over again, if just for the moment. Made me hate him maddeningly. Because, deep down inside, I knew that he was the only person who truley understood what I had gone through, to an extent.

His body pressed close, hand remaining on my jaw, my body remaining when I should have crushed him then and there. I could. I had before. I certainly was able to now. And yet, like too many other times, I couldn't do it.

"You, of all people, should know that's a lie."He whispered to me, and it took all of my power to not move in closer, to wrap myself in what I hated, my sweet sin. But I refused, instead looking up at him and whispering,

"You should go..."And then, something I'd heard jumped into my memory, and all of a sudden I understood his purpose here. It made me both smirk and cringe at the same time, feeling both highly amused and used. "Ahh, I understand now."I mused, his face darkening a bit, "Didn't the Big 5 banish you five years ago? And I wonder, how did you get out?" His face paused a moment, before turning back into that smirk that made it so easy to hate him.

His nails drug lightly on my jaw as he leaned in, saying in a low tone,

"They tried to trap me with my own nightmares, and we both know that I'm not the one running from them." I clenched my jaw, glarring daggers at him and wishing him into nonexistance for even bringing up such a subject as nightmares. We were both aware of my more-than-fair-share of them, and my stunning ability to stifle them into the bottom of my mind to the point where it seemed I had forgotten all about my past. And I had.

"It did weaken me, though, I must admit..."He trailed off, and I let out a groan, rolling my eyes. I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief and exclaiming,

"I knew it!" I leaned in closer, a lopsided smirk on my face as I spat, "Listen, Pitch, no matter how many puppy-dog faces you give me, I'm not, nor will I ever, join you. Or do you not remember the last time we met well enough?" His eyebrows pulled together, lips thin in anger.

"Think about it for once!"He argued, almost desperatly, "We could be a team unlike any other! We both know you're stronger than any of those Guardians, and with me by your side there's no way they could stop us, those who were given positions stolen from us! Why can they live fulfilled lives while we're shoved into the shadows?" I stepped back, snapping my fingers as a spark danced above them, Pitch's eyes narrowing at it.

"I hate them. You got that right, darling. But defeating them would be counterproductive. Destorying the ones that I hate isn't worth the cost of destroying the ones I love, as well."I stepped closer, holding the spark so close to him that he had to move back a step, "I will not let you hurt the children, and if that's what you're here for, then I suggest you take the headstart I'm giving you."

Yes, with a spirit as corrupted as me, the pure irony of my dedication to the purest, most innocent creatures on Earth was not missed in my eyes or Pitch's. Slowly, he bowed his head, muttering with an edge of bitterness,

"How dissapointing. Though, I am glad we get to continue our games, I still wish you would reconsider." He dipped into the shadows faster than I could stop him, and a tingling in my spine alerted me of exactly where he was. His breath on my neck sent another shiver down my spine, wishing my hair was long enough to cover it as the exhale of words rustled the short locks.

"And I was telling the truth, when I said it was a lie. You will always mean something to me."A light touch of lips to the back of my neck making me surpress yet another shiver, "Boston..."He gave one last whisper, and then his presence was gone, just like that.

And all over again I felt anger rise in me. Filling me like it always did when our meetings went like this. I knew immediatly that I had to leave before said anger destroyed half of the city I'd named myself after. Taking off into the sky, a frenzy of sparks giving me liftoff before wrapping and dancing around me, I turned and sped away, wanting to get somewhere, anywhere, were I could vent my destructive rage without hurting anyone.

Antarctica was nice this time of year.