So so so so so this is basically a combination of crossmare drabbles that just sort of sums up some of the shit they do in the day I guess

The first two plots are based off of an ongoing rp I have with zyebana_yaoistka . The scenes happened a long long long time ago but they have stayed in my mind and I felt like developing them a little further I suppose.

🍓Each new Drabble will be marked by a —————— when one ends and another begins 🍓

⚠️🚸🔆🔅WARNING🔅🔆🚸⚠️
The last one is slightly smutty OwO

uwu enjoy

Cross hadn't expected to feel the tingling coolness of hands gripping at his hips, long fingers clasping at his smooth bones through the loose fabric of his clothes. They held firm, earning a sharp intake of breath that hissed through grit teeth.

"Relax, Cross. It's just me."

"How comforting." The soldier's eyes swept across his surroundings, straining in the darkness to make out anything from the blocky outline of a bookshelf to the menacing figure he knew stood behind him. Spinning on his heels he reached out a hand sharply, only to find himself snatching at thin air.

He couldn't see even a metre before his face. If he raised his hand to his eyes, the foggiest of outlines would present itself to his vision, but if he moved it so much as an inch further, it would be swallowed by the murky darkness, like a hungry creature desperate to engulf and consume him whole.

"You have wandered into a beast's home." The low drawl of Nightmare's voice rang out to his left and he whirled around, feet stumbling as he staggered into lumpy and hard books, grunting. His hand clasped onto the nearest one, thumb rubbing against the calloused and worn leather bound spine. It was pitch black, and even though he knew where Nightmare must stand, he couldn't see him - not even the gleam of his cyan eye. Perhaps he had his back to him.

"Uninvited and unprepared."

This time the voice echoed from right behind the monochrome and he cast a hand out backwards only to find it collide with another wooden bookshelf, his wrist cracking slightly along with a sharp pain that made his head spin.

"I followed you here-" He gasped, cradling his poor wrist with his other hand as he looked about slowly, eyes narrowed.  It had been a simple game of follow at first. Nightmare had been sat reading his book in the library and as usual when bored, Cross had followed him and perched on the edge of his armchair, of course pestering him over and over about what the book was about, who the characters were etc. Common questions.

The king had been irritatingly vague with answers of "characters" and "plot lines" or "death". Eventually - as he usually did - he got bored of Cross' questions and slunk off to a different part of the library to continue his novel in peace. Usually he managed to lose Cross in the twists and turns of the labyrinth with walls of books, finding a secluded spot where he could read for an hour before either returning to their bedroom where Cross would be slumped in defeat, of rescue the foolish soldier from whatever chamber in the dark library he'd become lost in.

However this time Cross had kept up for longer than usual, keeping pace with his partner and poorly trying to create a mental map of the library. Deeper and deeper the king had lead him into depths Cross hadn't been aware even existed. And then the lights had flickered off, plunging them both into darkness. It seemed as if Nightmare had predicted it or perhaps even planned for it to do so. Yet instead of making a swift exit, he was now toying with Cross.

"How foolish of you, surely you should know how dangerous it can be for a clueless soldier to wander into a beast's territory?"

Cross went to sneer but any sound that wished to escape him died a miserable death in his throat as a slender hand pressed against his chest, something cool sweeping round to curl over his back and hold him there.

"N-Nightmare-" His voice was wheezed and unsure, not quite knowing where the self proclaimed King was going with this. A second hand carefully cupped his cheek, the soft pressure of his thumb dragging over his jagged scar.

Yet again the thought occurred to him as to whether Nightmare had his eye closed. Surely he would be staring right into to the depths of swirling cyan with hints of teal and flecks of turquoise. Yet before him stood only black in seldom solidarity.

Reaching out shakily Cross was hesitant to pat at the air in search of the damn skeleton. Surprise took him over in a shallow wave as his fingers prodded against solid chest. With a rather mockable swiftness his fingers curled and gripped onto the familiar fabric of Nightmare's hoodie, not planning on letting go. His other hand fumbled and patted along the King's chest and he tried his hardest not to imagine how amused he probably looked at the moment, staring down at him with a sneer.

His fingers slowly felt up along his sternum through his clothes and crept along to his neck. For a brief moment he imagined strangling him and attempting to throttle his partner; but he knew he would end up worse off. The sharp turn of his jaw felt smooth and carved from marble. He wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if his fingers came back dripping with blood. Next came his equally sculpted cheekbones, his hand pausing there completely as he lightly rubbed it.

It was only then that his eye finally presented itself to him, a sharp contrast of colour against the darkness. The cyan light that filtered from it dimly highlighted his facial features and Cross was frustrated to see that the Lord indeed looked rather amused by his subordinate's fumbling attempts to feel him up.

His voice was deep yet soft, the underlying authority sharp like cider. It was the sort of voice you had to obey. "Surely you of all people should know how foolish you've been."

A slowly building up pressure at his chest caused Cross to stumble, trainers padding backwards rapidly until his spine was pressed flush against the books, eyes going wide.

"Don't you know how hungry we can get?"

A deep shiver rippled down the skeleton's spine and he didn't answer, having nothing to say. He hadn't predicted this, cheeks turning a rather irritating shade of purple as their chests pressed together and Nightmare stared at him.

Their mouths pressed together in a fluid motion spurred by both of them, Cross' hands snaking up to wrap securely around the back of Nightmare's neck while the taller kept one at his hip, the other pressed against the bookshelf supporting them.

The library was still deathly silent, not even the heavy thudding of Cross' soul echoing through the corridors, only the wanton whisper of silence creeping past the old and worn books, never once uttering a word of the happenings inside.

—————————

"Would you catch me, if I fell?"

The monochrome solider rose a brow sharply, his pupils darting from his King to the meagre view of the ground he had below them, brows furrowing. "I doubt I'd have the time."

It was late evening and the light was bleeding into dark, idle traces of sunlight seeping across the ashen hills in veiny forks that faded at the tips, slowly retreating back to the sun like snakes, scales rippling in the rapidly dying day. Night would be here soon.

They found themselves both situated on the balcony five minutes ago, too lazy to go anywhere in the castle but not tired enough to curl up in bed and sleep. Nightmare had started leant against the thick stone barrier that ran along the circumference of the semicircle structure, dark ivy tangling around its gapped walls, yet within minutes he'd hopped up to sit on the edge, staring down at the floor.

Cross had abandoned his slouched posture against the wall and now stood in front of him, fingers twitching as he watched Nightmare lean back a little with a playful smirk.

"You doubt you'd have the time?" A snort left him and he stared down at the cracked stone steps many metres beneath them. They stretched up to the grand entrance of their home, out to the towering spruce double doors that curdled with metal swirls at the corners, tens of large iron bolts embedded deeply to keep the intimidating structure fixed to the thickly cut walls. "How disheartening."

Cross knew he'd given the wrong answer and grumbled under his breath. His hands were cold with the winter wind, but he didn't dare shove his hands into his pockets no matter how warm they might be.

It was true that if Nightmare fell he wouldn't get hurt. Not a single scratch or bruise would adorn his body if he so pleased - being a creature of power with no true form had its perks, he could simply liquify on the floor and then stretch back up into the familiar figure he put up with every day, grin still as wide as ever.

Still, Cross didn't fancy the idea of peeling him off of the stairs if something went wrong. "Even if I teleported down there, the resulting force of you landing on me would deal more damage overall than it would if I stood still and didn't move. Unless you expect me to run through our room, down the corridors and launch off of the stair balcony downstairs to where I'd have to haul open the great wooden doors before I could even think of skidding out here and catching you?" He cocked a brow, impassive.

Nightmare gave a rather dry sigh and stared up at the darkening clouds, their outlines reflecting deep reds and yellows that rapidly died like the sun behind him. The Lord often found himself bored in recent days, so would do what he liked to call 'play pretend'. Of course Cross was the usual victim of his little games, which usually consisted of theoretical questionings of situations or odd little illusions, him telling a story that would leave Cross' mind twisted in endless spirals. Mind games were often one of his favourite things to passively torture him with, and more recent than not these days the soldier found himself at the victim of lots of "what if?" questions.

It was a game and no one knew the rules except Nightmare. He was the games master with no one to order, just the odd desire to test his partner. Cross knew all this and tried his best to 'play along' with Nightmare's odd proposals, but more often than not his reactions didn't meet the dark skeleton's expectations.

Tipping himself back subtly Nightmare raised a slender leg, his slippered foot lightly brushing against Cross' chest as he gave a sharp grin. "I suppose not."

Cross' reached up rather quickly, his fingers curling around the Lord's slim ankle tightly and holding firm to keep him from tumbling right over the edge. Tipping his head to the side the dark skeleton chuckled and tipped his head back along with his body, Cross' knuckles aching as he gripped tighter and planted his feet down firmer. "Nightmare. Stop."

Raising a brow the gooier skeleton gave a loud and forlorn sigh, like a child who'd just been told that he could no longer play their favourite game of trip the kids and watch them cry. "You really can be rather boring, you know?"

"I'd offer my apologies." He grunted. "But they're not in order."

He couldn't pretend he wasn't relieved when Nightmare sat up properly, his body no longer at a dangerous tipping angle. Yet he wouldn't let go of his leg, not quite trusting him to stay true to his actions.

Behind him, dark tentacles twitched and curled from their previously despondent position of hanging over the balcony barrier and stretching out into the open air. Now they dragged themselves slowly over the stone like thick and glossy snakes, the sky above them faintly reflected on their surfaces in a dull mirroring. Cross eyed them silently, a brow twitching as the first one spilled off over the edge and crept along the floor towards him, curling around his ankle carefully.

"I'm tired, Nightmare." He stated bluntly, performing a rather fake yawn to go with his words while his fingers still grasped his leg, one tapping away persistently.

"I know." The second tentacle unravelled onto the floor beneath them before stretching upwards like a ghostly arm, curling around Cross' hips and applying a gentle pressure he was all too familiar with. It dragged him forwards with a surprising force and the smaller stumbled into his partner, briefly worrying that his momentum would send them both tumbling over the edge. Of course he knew Nightmare wouldn't let any harm come to him - not that he scared by the prospect of an injury - it would simply meant that Nightmare would most likely adhere to any of his orders for the resulting time of healing. And though the idea sounded tempting, he decided he'd much rather slide into bed now and sleep curled up against his superior.

Thankfully neither of them fell from the balcony, only wobbling slightly on the edge for a moment as Nightmare gave a laugh. It was deep and genuine, a sound so rarely heard that Cross nearly forgave him for jumbling up his poor mind and freezing his hands. Almost.

"I could have sworn I saw a flash of fear in your eyes, soldier." The Negative Lord leaned over for a cheeky kiss but found himself pawing at the air.

Leaning back sharply Cross scoffed, slipping free of the tentacles with a few delicate steps. "You're old, your vision is playing games with you, my King. Now. Bed." He rarely ordered Nightmare around, but when he did he knew the darker would listen. He'd blatantly admitted to being wrapped around Cross' finger after all.

"Ah, you're not playing along any more." He gave a disdained sigh and held eyes with his lover for a moment before he finally stood up properly, feet secure on stone. "One day I aught to teach you your place."

"And you will, one day." He rolled his eyes and stepped through the glass french doors, sliding them shut behind once Nightmare had slid inside to the merge warmth of their bedroom. It wasn't much, he knew under the covers would be so much nicer.

It didn't take long for the both of them to strip from their daywear and don their nightclothes. Soon enough Cross was sat in their bed and patting at the spot beside him with a twitching grin.

"You'd think sometimes our titles are reversed." Nightmare muttered as he slipped into a grey sweater, easing himself down beside him.

"I would never presume such a thing, my Lord." Cross gave him a sly look and winked. They were both long past the time of using titles to address each other, yet on the occasional moment they would use them again in a sort of mocking fondness.

"It's good that you know you lie beneath me, solider." He gave a smooth chuckle and a tentacle flicked up to lightly tip his chin in a playful motion.

"Of course." He leaned over, delivering the kiss to his lover he'd denied earlier.

————————

Cross used to be good with mornings. Back when he'd been training to be part of the Royal Guard he would rise early along with the sun and be ready for his duties within half an hour of awaking. Of course at least twenty minutes of that time had been dedicated to struggling into that heavy and ridiculous uniform. God he'd hated it. But he hadn't ridden himself from it entirely, keeping his shorts and the fluffy hooded jacket. But the complicated scarf and criss-cross cape were banished to the deepest depths of his wardrobe.

Long ago he would have felt refreshed the moment he slipped out of bed and let his boney feet sink into the fluffy carpet, ready to start the day. These days it wasn't quite the same.

Now when he awoke it was often nearing noon and he would find himself under the heavy and plush feeling of a thick blanket, his body sunk into an expensive mattress with his skull smothered by silk pillows. Sleeping in was such an easy mishap. The curtains would always be lazily draped over the large windows, allowing minimum but adequate light to spill through into the tastefully furnished room.

Rolling over with a pitiful groan Cross flung his arms out to curl around the body he knew would be there, his face pressing into the soft fabric of a hoodie. "Ngh.. morning.."

Something firm rubbed at his shoulder in acknowledgment and the soldier lazily nudged the dark appendage. Nightmare's tentacles were infamous for murder and death, acting as an ungodly weapon whenever the Lord saw fit, but they were also surprisingly good at cuddles. Every night they'd tangle and wrap around him in a secure yet comfortable manner, keeping him close and safe. He could feel the presence of another around his hips and a third carelessly squeezed his ankle in a greeting.

"Finally awake, are we?" The deep rumble of his partner's voice urged him to tip his head up with a tired nod.

The taller sat up against the headboard, his forth tentacle holding up a thick leatherback book for him as his hand lay poised to flick the page. He spared a moment to dart his pupil away from the book and glance down at him, the slightest ghost of a smile twitching at his lips as he took in Cross' groggy expression.

Of course being Nightmare's.. favoured soldier, Cross got many perks such as well, sleeping in the same room as his superior and as proven, having a lie in. Killer Horror and Dust had left hours ago to complete a mission, Cross hadn't stirred. It was amusing to him how the smaller could appear when simply waking up. Throughout the day Cross would look stern and serious, expression mostly blank as he progressed with his daily tasks. But when waking up he always looked so dazed and tired, as if he'd been torn from some greater reality in his Dreams.

Cross' mismatched pupils soon enough focused and lingered on his face for a moment before dropping to his book with a low hum. "How many pages have you read since you woke up?"

"Only 135."

"Oh?" He held back a yawn and pushed himself up to sit, his skull resting on Nightmare's shoulder as he peered at the tiny printed words on the large pages. "You're slacking."

A hand playfully pushed him and a worn strip of silk slid over the current page before he carefully closed it, placing the dead weight down on the bedside table beside the bed. "You would have read five."

Snickering softly he nodded, knowing he was most likely right. Personally he preferred a film to a book, especially horror ones or anything with gore depicted. As Nightmare frequently told him, he had a 'lack of imagination'. He could never picture what Nightmare would see when he read over the worn pages. To him it was just printed ink. But he didn't mind, hearing Nightmare simply talk about the books was enough for him as his uneducated mind tried to grasp a concept of what the goopy skeleton spoke of.

"I could murder some breakfast right about now." Cross grumbled, his mind being snatched from books to bacon, his fingers twitching.

"We're closer to lunch, but be my guest." Nightmare yawned and slipped out of bed, fingers tugging at his sleepwear grey sweater and slipping it right off over his head to leave his upper half bare. He'd simply have a coffee anyway.

As usual Cross found his eyes drawn to his lover's bones, staring at them hungrily with the resemblance of predator to prey. There was something about inescapable darkness and corruption that attracted Cross - a trait his brother wouldn't have been very impressed with.

Catching his gaze the Negative Lord rolled his eye and shook his head in amusement, turning his back to him as picked up a fresh sweater from its forlorn position of being draped over the chair in the corner of the room. "You'll get bored of the image one day."

"I don't think so." He murmured, eyes trailing over the bones on his back before they rested on his disfigured spine. Instead of being straight it tied itself in a sort of ragged knot just below where his tentacles sprouted from. Everlasting damage from the transformation. That's what he'd told him when he'd asked.

Because he had no real physical form Nightmare was able to do great feats such as regrowing limbs and effectively shape shifting, erasing damages or injuries. But the ones sustained when his power ripped apart that naive Negative Guardian's body stuck permanently, a sign that they'd taken the step too early. Examples of unfixables would be his missing right eye, mangled spine and the lost rib that left a gap half way down his left side. But neither of them minded really, the only grievances it caused was backache for the Lord, which Cross was always there to offer one of his so called 'expert massages' for.

The fabric of a dark grey turtleneck sweater slid over the abnormality on his back and covered it up evenly. Seconds later the tentacles pushed their way through the fabric, seeping in through the cotton fibres until they could burst free and hang limply behind him again. Cross always enjoyed watching that, amused by how small the tips of the tentacles would look as they stained the fabric. Dark clothes were the only ones acceptable because of it.

The skeleton chucked Cross' clothes at him, the black sweater successfully hitting him in the face and earning a surprised grunt. Much to his disappointment by the time he'd managed to untangle his skull from the clothes, Nightmare was fully dressed. He'd missed the sight of his lover's rather nice pelvis.

Clearly it had been purposeful as Nightmare shot him an irritatingly charming grin and leaned back against the wall, hands crossed over his chest. "Hurry up, you know I won't make breakfast for you."

"How rude." He fumbled to drop his night clothes to the floor in crumpled heaps before taking his time as he got dressed. He could sense Nightmare's eye burning holes into his bare bones, but he didn't much care. He was long past the point of being embarrassed under his gaze. At least that's what he told himself.

Pushing his hands through the holes in his fluffy jacket he stood up, finally dressed as he padded over to his partner with a slight smirk.

The Lord stared down at him with a hum, holding out a hand for him with mocking grace as the door swung open. "Shall we descend to the kitchen?"

Snickering softly Cross nodded with a slight bow, taking his outstretched hand. "We shall."

—————————

Light filtered through the stained glass of the throne room, dancing over the cold cobbles and weaving in and out of the cracks in dimming floods. The day was dying, the winter months flattening the windows for sun to shine and dragging out those where the moon shone bright.

The air was slightly chilly, the cold creeping around corridors like a heavy fog, turning brass doorknobs cold and the stone floor even colder. The occupants of the old castle thrives in the cold mostly, so it wasn't much of a bother.

Noise wasn't something often heard in the recently reclaimed home, it was very much a place dominated by silence and nothingness due to its vast size. Those who decided to make any noise should try their hardest to keep it to themselves, for the walls did echo. Secrets were hard to keep.

Cross cursed as he glared up at his partner, fingers curling sharply into his shoulders as he muffled another noise. His cheeks were stained a deep purple, his body feeling heavy and useless. He sat straddling his partner, legs pinned against the cold stone of the throne arms.

Beneath him Nightmare gave a low chuckle, his ever present grin burning into him deeply as his pupil flickered over his flushed face purposefully. Hands slid over his hips and back, delicate fingers twitching under his sweater to dance over his scarred bones. "Oh how the mighty fall."

"Sh-shUt it-" He hissed weakly at him, shoving his face into the crook of his partner's neck where many faded hickeys littered the dark bone. His mouth latched onto a new spot, trying to divert his focus from the burning flame steadily growing in his abdomen. His teeth grazed over his neck carelessly and he was delighted to feel his partner shiver beneath him, hands faltering for a moment. He felt powerful for perhaps a brief moment, pushing away the knowledge that his own neck looked much worse, plagued with dark bruises.

"You're so demanding.." His voice was a soft murmur, his thin fingers curling around his spine and squeezing it tightly, thumbs giving ample attention to each of the lower vertebraes.

"MmGhaAH-!" A cry left him before he could help himself and his body slumped against the taller's chest, wracked with deep and rippling shivers that fanned flames across his bones.

His skull felt light and airy compared to the rest of his body, his mind spinning like a carousel with no stop button. A thin line of drool leaked from his mouth as he shifted on his lap, the burning heat only becoming more unbearable.

Nightmare was buried unbelievably deep into his heat, each twitch and readjustment sending his eyes rolling. Curses spat from his lips over and over, any attempt to mark the Lord's neck having been forgotten as he allowed himself to be sunk downwards and spiralled further into this insanity. His soul pounded in his chest like a persistent alarm, constantly making sure he was aware how much of an affect the twisted being beneath him had on his body.

He felt filthy, every touch earning pitiful cries as he pressed as close to his partner as he possibly could. His vision swam before his eyes, everything blurred as if he were underwater and staring through glass.

Humming thoughtfully Nightmare carefully fingered Cross' sensitive vertebras, his thumb pressing against them, tugging pulling and twisting. His gaze filtered past his soldier's ruined expression and over to the large oak doors marking the entrance to the grand room. They were solid and impossible to open without the sound of groaning wood echoing through the corridors in complaint, not happy with being moved.

Fingers shifting he gripped onto his partner tighter, watching as the first chink in the wood split open, the soft glow of a light spilling through and onto the floor. The creek followed next and Cross tensed up greatly, a helpless flurry of panic leaving him as he squirmed. Of course he only succeeded in burying himself deeper around Nightmare, a strangled gasp of impossible ecstasy flying from his mouth as he hid his face into the taller's shoulder.

Their relationship was no secret to anyone who knew them both, and the rest of the group had to frequently put up with their odd and sadistic ways of showing affection. But Cross liked to keep his strong and blank soldier persona to stay on at all times when other people were around. He couldn't stand seeming weak in front of anyone other than Nightmare - which he still disdained.

Staring at the opening doors blankly Nightmare let his tentacles wind around his subordinate, a layer of dark slime covering up the sin committed beneath. Of course it was still rather obvious what they'd been doing - Cross' mortified position was enough to show that.

A figure slipped into the throne room with a few white papers in their hand, a candle in the other. They faltered upon seeing the both of them sat upon the other end but didn't comment on it, their mouth twitching as he caught Cross' glare.

"I have the papers you asked for."

"Leave them by the door." Nightmare's voice echoed across the room as he stared at the skeleton. It was Dust, one of the few skeletons of his group that he could trust to keep his mouth shut about the current situation. If it had been Horror that had interrupted them however, the whole castle would already know.

Nodding slowly the skeleton placed the small stack of papers down on the floor, staying ducked for a moment as he tried to avert his eyes from the scene before him. Hastily stepping back to the door he gave a stumbled bow, eyes locking with them both for a moment before he left. The sound of the doors echoing shut was the easiest show that they were once again alone.

Cross was seething, cheeks flooded with furious and embarrassed heat. "Y-you need a 'do not disturb' sign-"

Chuckling lowly Nightmare tipped his head to the side and cupped his cheek. "What's the hurt of them knowing what we get up to, hm?"

"It's degrading." He muttered, resting his chin on his shoulder while his eyes fluttered shut. He wouldn't admit it, but he was thankful that the darker had covered him up upon Dust's entrance. Luckily the Skelton wasn't much of a talker, and would most likely do the worst of sending him smirking looks at dinner later.

"Ah well that's the risk you took when you flung yourself onto me in such a public place place." He curled his finger around the fluff on his hood in a little spiral and leaned back a little.

"I did no such thing." He snarled sharply, though the tone had no malice, only weary embarrassment.

"Of course you didn't." His fingers softly drummed at his hips and earned a groan from Cross as he shifted his lower half upwards.

"Now, where were we~?"

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5,000 words well spent writing

Ugh writing is so much effort I swear, and this book is lacking smut I'm sorry it's just so hard to write I- I have too much criteria for myself when I write it ishsissjhsisnshx 😤😤😤

Anyways hope you enjoyed uwuwuwuwuwuwuwu

I liked writing these tehehe

wOt wAs yOur favOurite dRaBble?

Answer or I steal your souls

Kill me

-Jess-