snowydragons:

Inspired by [x] [x]

3 days ago with 2,218 notes — via frosty-viking, © snowydragons



emile8:

graphrofberk:

Hiccup + Hands

His hand movements make him so human!

6 days ago with 6,845 notes — via emile8, © graphrofberk



itistimetodisappear:

"I promise you I will learn from my mistakes"

1 week ago with 962 notes — via lady-shortman, © itistimetodisappear



derpfire:

zzzZZzzZZzzz

derpfire:

zzzZZzzZZzzz

1 week ago with 2,102 notes — via ask-mister-snow, © derpfire



Oh he’s real alright. Real annoying, real grumpy, and really full of himself. 

1 week ago with 1,832 notes — via divergenttributefromdisneyworld, © snowydragons



forshadowedchaos:

derpfire:

i wAS going to redo it and make it better but i make myseLf sad so I just left it sketchy. he’s going to be fiiine

He’d forgotten just how quick Pitch could move. One second he was floating along the winds through a forest in north Canada and the next he’d been yanked into the shadow of a giant conifer tree by his ankles.  His sharp gasp of surprise was swallowed by the shadows swirling around him in a tornado like fury. They buffeted him; tearing at his hoodie and flinging his own snow into his face, blinding and disorienting him. It was all he could do to keep hold of his staff and curl in on himself to shield his face from the violence of transporting through Pitch’s shadows.
It stopped just as suddenly as it started. Jack was tossed down into a dark, cavernous room with enough force that his staff went clattering away from him. He grasped after it in desperation even before his mind could shake off the confusion and dizziness assaulting it. However, just as he gained a shred of equilibrium there was a loud crack that made his eyes widen in fear.
"No!" Jack shouted into the gloom around him. He managed to scrambled to his feet before he heard/felt the snap of wood. The pain drove him to his hands and knees and he keened his distress.
Through his harsh panting Jack heard Pitch’s low laughter from in front of him and struggled to lift himself up. He cried out as shadows, unnaturally thick and quick as a striking snake, lashed around his knees, torso and elbows. They locked him in place; bowed before Pitch Black like a supplicant. 
"Hello, Jack," Pitch greeted calmly. He ignored the glacial glare Jack looked up at him with and drank in the more than abundant fear radiating from the boy. With an amused quirk of thin lips, Pitch presented Jack’s broken staff. "Looking for this?" he asked.
"Pitch," Jack rasped out through the pain still pulsing through his body. "Let me up," he hissed. "Give me my staff and let me go so I can beat your ass!"
Pitch watched as Jack angrily squirmed against his shadowy bonds with interest before chuckling as Jack slumped with exhaustion and pain once more.
"Why of course, Jack. Here you go," Pitch told him sweetly.
Jack startled as the shadows tightened their grip and more appeared to wrap around his forearms before dragging his hands to rest one on top of the other. A dawning horror curled through Jack, sluggish and sickening. He drug his unbelieving gaze from his pale hands to Pitch. His mouth went dry and a fine trembling racked his frame as he watched Pitch drop one half of his broken staff to the ground in front of him and raise the other, splintered side down, high above his head. 
They locked eyes. Jack’s were shining with terror while Pitch’s slit with pleasure at the influx of sweet fear. Jack wanted to scream at Pitch but he couldn’t make his throat work.  He wanted to jerk out of his bonds but the sheer magnitude of what Pitch was planning to do had him frozen even more than the shadows. He didn’t realize he was jerkily shaking his head until Pitch grinned and heaved his entire body into impaling Jack’s staff through the backs of his palms. Jack screeched as the wood burned a path through his hands and deep into the hard packed dirt floor.
Pitch’s laughter fought for dominance with Jack’s cries and whimpers in the vast, echoing underground chamber. The shadows holding Jack dissipated as if they’d never been there but Jack was in too much agony to notice. Pitch loomed over the shaking form of Jack Frost and gleefully watched Jack’s blood spread from his impaled hands. The red was striking against the boy’s snow pale skin.
Pitch placed an elbow carefully on top of the crook of Jack’s staff and leaned on it, resting his chin in his hand. The slight movement caused the wood to scrape horridly against Jack’s fresh wounds and he let out another shriek of pain. 
"St..op," Jack gasped brokenly. 
"Nah," Pitch replied and twisted the staff.

forshadowedchaos:

derpfire:

i wAS going to redo it and make it better but i make myseLf sad so I just left it sketchy. he’s going to be fiiine

He’d forgotten just how quick Pitch could move. One second he was floating along the winds through a forest in north Canada and the next he’d been yanked into the shadow of a giant conifer tree by his ankles.  His sharp gasp of surprise was swallowed by the shadows swirling around him in a tornado like fury. They buffeted him; tearing at his hoodie and flinging his own snow into his face, blinding and disorienting him. It was all he could do to keep hold of his staff and curl in on himself to shield his face from the violence of transporting through Pitch’s shadows.

It stopped just as suddenly as it started. Jack was tossed down into a dark, cavernous room with enough force that his staff went clattering away from him. He grasped after it in desperation even before his mind could shake off the confusion and dizziness assaulting it. However, just as he gained a shred of equilibrium there was a loud crack that made his eyes widen in fear.

"No!" Jack shouted into the gloom around him. He managed to scrambled to his feet before he heard/felt the snap of wood. The pain drove him to his hands and knees and he keened his distress.

Through his harsh panting Jack heard Pitch’s low laughter from in front of him and struggled to lift himself up. He cried out as shadows, unnaturally thick and quick as a striking snake, lashed around his knees, torso and elbows. They locked him in place; bowed before Pitch Black like a supplicant.

"Hello, Jack," Pitch greeted calmly. He ignored the glacial glare Jack looked up at him with and drank in the more than abundant fear radiating from the boy. With an amused quirk of thin lips, Pitch presented Jack’s broken staff. "Looking for this?" he asked.

"Pitch," Jack rasped out through the pain still pulsing through his body. "Let me up," he hissed. "Give me my staff and let me go so I can beat your ass!"

Pitch watched as Jack angrily squirmed against his shadowy bonds with interest before chuckling as Jack slumped with exhaustion and pain once more.

"Why of course, Jack. Here you go," Pitch told him sweetly.

Jack startled as the shadows tightened their grip and more appeared to wrap around his forearms before dragging his hands to rest one on top of the other. A dawning horror curled through Jack, sluggish and sickening. He drug his unbelieving gaze from his pale hands to Pitch. His mouth went dry and a fine trembling racked his frame as he watched Pitch drop one half of his broken staff to the ground in front of him and raise the other, splintered side down, high above his head.

They locked eyes. Jack’s were shining with terror while Pitch’s slit with pleasure at the influx of sweet fear. Jack wanted to scream at Pitch but he couldn’t make his throat work.  He wanted to jerk out of his bonds but the sheer magnitude of what Pitch was planning to do had him frozen even more than the shadows. He didn’t realize he was jerkily shaking his head until Pitch grinned and heaved his entire body into impaling Jack’s staff through the backs of his palms. Jack screeched as the wood burned a path through his hands and deep into the hard packed dirt floor.

Pitch’s laughter fought for dominance with Jack’s cries and whimpers in the vast, echoing underground chamber. The shadows holding Jack dissipated as if they’d never been there but Jack was in too much agony to notice. Pitch loomed over the shaking form of Jack Frost and gleefully watched Jack’s blood spread from his impaled hands. The red was striking against the boy’s snow pale skin.

Pitch placed an elbow carefully on top of the crook of Jack’s staff and leaned on it, resting his chin in his hand. The slight movement caused the wood to scrape horridly against Jack’s fresh wounds and he let out another shriek of pain.

"St..op," Jack gasped brokenly.

"Nah," Pitch replied and twisted the staff.

1 week ago with 1,194 notes — via frosty-viking, © derpfire



riseoftheguardian:

Hang on, is that…Jack Frost?

1 week ago with 2,128 notes — via howtotrainyourhiccup, © riseoftheguardian



jack frost being shoved in the wall appreciation post

1 week ago with 2,166 notes — via olihusky, © lostiel



2 weeks ago with 851 notes — via winchesters-at-221b-gallifrey, © timelordemort



dragons-and-angst:

… I still really want to know what that dream was. :P 

2 weeks ago with 1,143 notes — via winchesters-at-221b-gallifrey, © dragons-and-angst