Jack Frost hated cats.
They were nothing short of utterly nauseating. Of course, he never had a good reason to hate cats, though he had tried to find one for a long time. They were just plain annoying, crawling around with their ugly little ears and mangy fur. And the sounds they make. The horrible, horrible meows that he heard echoing through the alleys every so often. He involuntarily shivered just thinking about them. Cats were revolting, and that was that. Sometimes he even thought of them as the very bane of his existence. Not Pitch, who tried to kill him, and who attempted to kill Sandy. Not his inner demons, who probably were killing him. No, those were just cute little fluffy bunnies compared to the monstrosity that was the felis silvestris catus. Damn. He really needed to get his priorities straight.
Though his hatred ran deep, he was impeccable at hiding it. The only harm he had ever caused to the cat population was the occasional flash-freezing of one of it's members. He even made it so that they would thaw in the next few hours, instead of being encased in ice until spring. Apart from a few slip-ups here and there (freezing cats was a very complex thing to do. You can't blame him, really) he was relatively harmless to them. His kindness showed no bounds. He was a rock- no, a blasted boulder of philanthropy. He seriously should get a medal for this.
Fuck it. He cursed under his breath. What was he kidding himself for? Why was he comparing himself to a fucking rock? The boulder lifted a foot to swing a kick at the brick wall that had the misfortune of being in his presence while he was brooding. Then, he realized that he had no shoes on and that kicking bumpy walls would be a bad idea. He muttered another curse and trudged on, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, and leaving a trail of frost in his wake. He turned yet another cat into an ice cube with the flick of his magic stick as he passed it by. It had it coming, anyway. He didn't like the look it gave him.
"Aww look, a kitty!" Rosie squealed as she ran off towards the mewling ball of fur on the dirt road.
"Rose, wait!" Jack cried out through a bite of his cookie. He sighed, chewing and swallowing. Rosie had baked him a delicious, ludicrously big cookie for his birthday with the help of his mother, and he was just beginning to enjoy it when the cat had interrupted his bliss. Stupid cats and their stupid cuteness. He jogged over to where Rosie was petting the little creature, cookie in hand. He had to admit, this did make a pretty picture. They looked really cute together, actually.
The following events happened in a blur. The cat lashed out, sharp claws flashing in the sunlight, fangs glistening with saliva. It viciously swung its paws at Jack's arm, narrowly missing his fingers.
Jack looked down in horror. He couldn't seem to comprehend what had happened.
"It...it ate my cookie," he stuttered out. Rosie just giggled, merrily petting it as if nothing was wrong. Crap. She was under its spell.
"Can we keep him?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes.
Jack glared at the impeding animal. "No," he firmly replied.
Written by Cinna.
I do love cats, I just love cookies more.
e: If you're wondering why I set angst as one of the genres for this story, it's because the first time I read it over, I thought, 'wow. This is actually really depressing. Well, if you replace 'cats' with 'young children,' at least.' The thought of Jack turning happy kids into blocks of ice makes me want to cry.
Thanks to Eternal She-Wolf for bringing up the fact that it is impossible to read someone's mind via the internet. As a side note, read her writing. It's so good it makes me want to bake brownies.
And yes, I do stalk people who review my fanfiction.