Why am I so anxious about posting this? 😳

So you guys seemed to like the idea of me publishing a few old drafts that will never be published as separate oneshots because the writing is so old and I don't think they're good enough to be their own thing so 🥺👉👈

I'd say enjoy but it's hard to enjoy this rubbish ahahajshxiejsh

💢None of this was proof read💢


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FIRST DRAFT: Therapist (Imaginary Friend)
I wrote this over half a year ago so like sjshduskdhdhs it's tRash-👀

Word count - 2,400
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"So Cross, I trust you're aware of why your mother had brought you here."

Cross stared past the man sat across from him and snickered, watching as Nightmare slunk behind him and casually pushed his entire arm through his head - which had a rather receding hairline - as if it wasn't there.

"Cross, are you listening to me?"

The teen suppressed a groan and rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the thin, plain and middle aged man sat at his irritatingly symmetrical desk with a scowl. "No."

The man sighed softly and tapped his ballpoint pen on his desk in front of him, something that became irritating rather fast. "Cross, I'm your Therapist, and here to help, not make an enemy of you."

"Of course. That's what they all say." He glared coldly at the man in front of him before glancing over to the corner of the room where Nightmare was now trying and failing to pick up some dumb looking trophy about being a good listener. No matter how many times he tried his fingers just slipped through it effortlessly, as if he were trying to grab air or water. He got so frustrated in the end that he tried to swipe it off the shelf. But of course- that didn't work either.

"You're watching him now, aren't you?" The Therapist followed his eyes, staring at the corner of the room with interest. "Your imaginary friend."

He twitched at the word imaginary, but for the sake of his mother's desperation (and sanity), didn't object to it. "So what if I am?"

Nightmare glanced over at the teen and grinned, slowly walking to his side and wrapping his arms loosely around him from behind. Yet his arms kind of fell through him and the boy couldn't feel anything much to his annoyance. "They're just jealous, Cross."

The smaller tipped his head back and looked up at him lazily, unable to help the smile that formed on his face. "Yeah."

"Is he talking to you, Cross?" Mr Smith, the most generic named Therapist in the world, asked, staring at him intently with those dark brown eyes of his.

"Maybe." He rolled his pupils back down to look at him, losing the smile. The man placed his pen down - in perfect alignment to the others - on his desk and folded his hands together in front of him. He almost looked eager. "And what's he saying?"

"...He's telling me I should kill you right now." He grinned, looking back at the boring man and how he now shifted uncomfortably, his hands leaving each other and instead loosening his tie slightly.

"Cross look--"

"I'm kidding! Lord." He laughed and sunk back in his chair,  ignoring the weak sigh of distress his mum gave. This was bullshit. Thinking he was crazy just because he had a lifetime friend they had trouble seeing? Nightmare made him so happy, more than any other, and everyone else had to see that as a bad thing. Why? He'd never understand.

"He only tells me important things. Like when time's up for brushing my teeth." He stretched his arms above his head, eyeing the octopus as he slunk smoothly around the room, messing with anything he could. "Or the answers to my homework. He's the reason I'm a straight A student."

Nightmare winked at him from across the room, flashing him the same sharp smile he loved so much. "No problem, darling."

"...So maybe you should thank him, instead of trying to misdiagnose me." The last sentence came out as a growl, his voice sharp.

"Cross, we cant help you if you don't cooperate with us." Mr Smith said, catching his attention and ruining his momental good mood. "So please--"

"I don't want to cooperate with you! That's the point!" He stood up, flaring.

"Cross!" From his side his mum grabbed onto his shoulder, gripping on pathetically and giving him a desperate look. "Son, please. Can't you see that we're all just trying to help you?"

"I don't wa--"

"Cross. Sit down, now." Her voice wavered, but it was still a clear command. She glared at him and held her head high, eyes looking red and sore.

He stared back at her defiantly, but paused as Nightmare slipped to the side of him. "They're just doing what they think is best Cross, give them a chance."

The teen hissed something lowly under his breath but sat down, his gaze cast at the floor with a scowl. Beside him Nightmare hummed, his fingers brushing through the back of Cross' skull and sending the familiar ice cold feeling washing up him arms. He'd gotten used to it now and often did it on purpose just to feel the now rather pleasant feeling. He only hated it when his whole body was cast through something- reminded him too much of the crash.

Mr Smith sighed and straightened his tie once more, a steadied hand then reaching out to grasp onto the tall glass of water that stood proudly on the corner of his desk. He raised it to his lips and took a short sip, one bead of water spilling down his failure of a beard that grew in a scraggly mess on his chin. It looked like puberty had hit him only yesterday, the black hairs deciding to finally emerge now instead of their due date of twenty years ago.

Within a few seconds it was placed back down on the oak glass, the water swishing a little and sliding up the side and trying to escape before falling back down in defeat where it slowly settled. Cross kept his eyes fixated on it, not wanting to meet the soft gaze of Mr Smith.

It was a pitying look he gave him. One full of such genuine concern and want to help that it made him feel sick. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing! Yet his mum, his friends and this stupid, stupid Therapist all thought something was.

"Cross, I prefer being able to look my patients in the eye when I talk to them. It's more relaxing and helps put people at ease."

He couldn't stop the snort that left him, his eyes flashing up to look at his. "Oh really? Because it makes me feel like a cornered animal."

He sighed and smoothed down his blazer jacket, another hand brushing the short streaks of brown hair from his eyes. "I want to make this work, Cross."

"I don't."

Jakei bristled beside him, her hands fiddling uncomfortably on her lap. "Son, please... I've paid for this- for your benefit."

"My benefit? My benefit? Are you mad?" He hissed, standing. "Every time you mentioned this damn thing I said I didn't want it. In fact, I was entirely against the idea the whole time! But you decided to drag me here anyway."

She flinched and pointed a hand at his chest, pushing to her feet. "You will not speak to your mother like that!"

He went to retort something back, but Mr Smith cut him off quickly. "You two- please- I don't want an argument breaking out in my office."

Jakei composed herself quickly and shrank down a bit, her eyes now cast down at the floor. "Yes, sorry sir."

"She sounds like a school girl." Nightmare sneered, his head tilted and hovering over Cross' shoulder.

The smaller skeleton brushed that comment off, his eyes fixated on the Therapist as he placed the palms of his hands flat down on the desk. "We can offer you some medicine--"

"Medicine?!" Cross looked at him in disbelief. "I'm not sick!"

"You don't know that."

"Don't kn-- are you for real? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"As much as I hate to say it Cross, I have to disagree. And I do admire a strong mind, but having an imaginary friend around you for nine years whispering in your ear to kill everyone is not normal."

"Are you- are you dumb?? That killing thing was a joke!" He cried.

"And we all laughed." He frowned, face serious and brown eyes sharp. "You might not realise Cross, but you have a problem."

"I- I don't have a problem! H-He doesn't bother me, I swear!" He felt his voice go weak, trembling pathetically for a short moment before Mr Smith spoke once more.

"Come back in two weeks and we'll see about that." He said, voice cool.

"Come back in two weeks? Ha! Like I'm coming back here, it's a waste of my mum's money and all of our time."

"And Nightmare's?" He raised a brow.

"I never told you his name." He muttered warily and catching a glance from said octopus from across the room.

"Yes, but your mother and I have discussed you briefly before." He locked eyes with him, mouth twisted in a frown.

"You what?" He shot a glare at Jakei who gave him a guilty look in response, but said nothing.

"Now Cross- don't get mad at her. It's mandatory for us Therapists to get info on any children we need to treat."

"I already said, I don't need treatment!"

Completely ignoring that, Mr Smith traced a soft pattern on the wood off his desk, following the whorls and loopy lines. "The name of an imaginary friend can tell a lot about them, you know. For instance, 'Nightmare' doesn't give the most positive connotations I've ever heard. That's also one of the few reasons I'm concerned about you and your health."

"Nothing is wrong with my health! And his name doesn't tell you anything about him!" He balled his hands into fists, yelling.

"Cross, sit down, and we can talk about this like adults."

"No! I'm not letting you assume another thing about me!" He shoved his chair back harshly and stormed to the door, ignoring his mother's cries. He wrenched the door open and stepped outside before slamming it shut behind him again, grunting.

From behind him Nightmare slipped in just before the door could impale his ghost-like body, looking rather amused. "That was dramatic."

"I don't need your sarcastic comments right now." He forced through gritted teeth, his hands trembling as they dug into his hoodie sleeves.

"Hey, don't be like that." He rested a hand on Cross' shoulder, his palm actually resting on its surface instead of falling through it. They were stood alone, no one else visibly around to see the octopus.

Cross flinched a little at first but then turned to face him,'expression weak. "Nightmare..."

The taller gently cupped his cheek with a hand and sighed, going to say something. Yet he cut himself off quickly as the sound of muffled voices came from the door of Mr Smith's office.

The two of them shared a quick look before pressing themselves against the door, listening in intently to the sound of the Therapist and Cross' mum.

"How about this, Miss Peñaloza; I give your son two week's prescription for possible schizophrenia and we can see where it goes from there, okay?"

"Wh-" Cross almost reeled back in surprise, his face twisting in anger. "Are you hearing this?!" He reached a hand out to grab onto the doorknob and storm back in but found his hand held back by Nightmare.

"Cross, it isn't worth it. We'll just go and wait in the car." He pulled him along gently, having to tug a few times before Cross gave in and trudged after him hesitantly.

They walked through the twisted corridors together, Nightmare staring intently at the maps displayed on cold plastic plaques nailed to the walls while Cross stood dully beside him.

At one point they'd found one of those little leaflet brochures that had a map printed on the back, and they used that. But every time another Therapist or patient walked down the corridor as well the leaflet would slip right through Nightmare's hands and fall with an ungraceful flutter to the floor. It happened so many times that he eventually gave up, kicking it away.

"Bloody useless." He hissed and glared at the discarded leaflet with a look of pure disgust before glaring accusingly at his hands. "And yOU--"

"Nightmare keep your voice down." He shoved him lightly, his hand pushing right through his shoulder and stopping around half way through his rib cage.

"Cross, I could reenact Romeo and Juliette's tragic death scene at ear rape mode and no one would so much as bat an eyelash."

"I would definitely be batting an eyelash." He glared at him warningly. "So don't."

"Fine, fine."

The two of them moped through the corridors at the pace of a snail, Nightmare not bothering to start a conversation with the boy by his side. He knew he wasn't in the mood, so didn't try.

Aaaaaand that's where I gave up 😔😔😔
But easy assumption they go back to the car and Cross is in a mood all the way home of course 😔
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SECOND DRAFT: Canon-ish Stuff
Not as old as the previous one but I lost motivation half way through so👀

Word count - 461
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"Nothing?" 

Frowning softly Nightmare opened his eye and blinked softly, his pupil locked on the hopeful expression of his lover who sat in front of him on their shared, royal double bed. His eyes bore the same tired expression he always had, but there was still that faint sparkle of life behind them.

He tried desperately to find something in the depths of his soul, scraping back every last inch to feel even the slightest spark. The only notable difference was the soft tingling of his 'lips'. But no. Nothing.

"...Nothing."

Cross gave a defeated sigh and looked away unable to hide his disappointment. "Ah, well, maybe you'll feel it soon."

"...Maybe." He lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips over his lips slightly, feeling angry. But not at Cross, no. At himself. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much they did together, no matter how desperately Cross put in his best efforts, he couldn't feel love.

Not even the slightest glow of happiness would warm his icy soul. Nothing would melt it. And he hated that. He despised it more than anything, knowing he'd never be able to replicate the feelings Cross felt towards him. When they cuddled it was dull, when they kissed it was empty. Even when they did it, it was more the feeling of power that Nightmare enjoyed over any other feelings.

He just couldn't love.

At first he hadn't minded much, finding Cross' efforts amusing or mockable, often shooting the smaller down with sneering remarks of how he should give up. After all, all positive emotions were meaningless to him. But then it slowly dawned on him, as Cross' efforts only pursued and he continuously did all those stupid little actions that would only success in pissing the Lord off, the boy's feelings were genuine.

At first he didn't know what to do, his attempts at telling his subordinate that his feelings would never be reciprocated doing nothing. Cross had been determined, saying that he would make Nightmare feel those feelings that had been ripped from his soul all those years ago. Of course that was impossible, but Cross wouldn't listen to reason - not very surprising really.

Even as the days and months past with no reaction from the octopus, Cross hadn't given up, and Nightmare had eventually felt like he looked should do at least something. He might not have been able to personally feel any joy or comfort from the first time he woodenly hugged the smaller back instead of being stiff and quiet, but he'd felt the emotions from Cross. Happiness. Real happiness. Ever since he'd been like.. this, he'd never felt the emotion of happiness from from someone else as a reaction of something he'd done. Or at least it was an incredibly rare occasion - like seeing Horror without his axe. It was an almost non existent happening.

In fact the feeling became addictive. It was like a drug he couldn't get enough of. Him, the Lord of Negativity making someone happy? People would have laughed. But it was true, he could do that, he could make Cross laugh, he could made him give that lopsided smile, he could do all those things.

So perhaps maybe Cross was right. If he could do that, which would have seemed so impossible years ago. Maybe, just maybe, he could love him back.

Oop this one is as short RIP. But Idk I liked the idea but just lost motivation half way through I guess 😔
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THIRD DRAFT: Villain and Superhero AU
⚠️THIS WRITING IS A YEAR OLD SO ITS REALLY BAD HEKSHHSWIHHSSJSHGSEUHSGS⚠️
It's based off of One Punch man I guess, after I watched it and went yyYUm

Word count - 6,432
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"Cross! Cross wake up you lazy good for nothing shit! C'mon!"

The teen was thrown roughly out of bed with a yelp, his shoulder colliding with the cold wood of his apartment floor and smacking him awake. He grunted and kicked out with his foot, connecting it with his assailants ankle and earning a yelp before something slammed into the floor inches away from his face.

"Cross, enough."

He growled lowly, his eyes fixating on the dark wooded pole of wood that towered up above him, its twisted shape curling in spirals and knots. He knew that staff all too well. "Dream."

"Yes Cross, it's me." He hissed, eyes narrowed as he leaned down and gripped onto the back of the boy's scarf, wrenching him to his feet. "And there are villains wrecking havoc in city Z again - threat level dragon - and you didn't respond to my request."

He blinked sleepily and glanced over at his phone, seeing the screen showing two missed calls from his master. "Oh I- sorry Sensei, it won't happen again."

"Too right it won't." He spat, lifting his staff off of the floor and pointing it at his apartment wall, tearing a hole through the air in front of it. A glimmering golden portal formed and Cross stepped back, shielding his eyes as he always did when the Hero made his travelling portals.

It looked glassy and warm, an orange glow radiating off of it like a halo. You couldn't see anything through the other side, only the mirror-like effect of a doorway. He hated stepping through them. It felt like you were walking through a thin sheet of lukewarm water, only you felt the sensation of dampness while actually being completely dry. He'd only done it a few times, but he'd decided fast enough that he wasn't too fond of it.

"Hurry up, we've waisted enough time." He muttered and grabbed Cross by the jacket, shoving him forwards and through the portal without warning.

The teen yelped and stumbled, his feet instantly hitting broken rubble scattered across the floor and sending him crashing to the ground for the second time that morning. Brilliant.

Dream stepped out behind him, a scornful look on his face. "Watch where you step, kid."

"Funny." He spat, swiping away some of the gravely bits that had stuck to his dark sleeves. Pushing himself up to his feet he glanced around, staring at the ruins of city Z.

Monsters had clearly wrecked havoc here, buildings were crumbling, chunks missing and thrown across the streets carelessly, smashing windows, cars, people. Car alarms were mixing in with screams of civilians as they ran around frantically, tripping over their own feet and more or less attracting more attention to themselves than means necessary.

Piles of rubble were smouldering to the sides, telephone poles and lampposts snapped and twisted out of shape. The floor was splattered with blood, whatever villains being out here clearly in the murderous fun mood.

"Look!" Someone cried, noticing the two hero's arrival. Well, one of their arrivals. "It's Hero The Light Bringer come to save us!"

Dream looked over at them rather smugly, waving and holding up his staff. "Fear not, I am here citizens."

Cross rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into the fabric of his armpits, forever finding Dream's arrogant hero act incredibly tiring. He could act however he wanted wherever he wanted just because he has the title of Hero and a high rank. The man revelled in attention, loved it more than anything else in the world. Cross himself? He'd rather stay back in the shadows, away from the spotlight.

"Shouldn't we get going? I mean, the city is still under siege." He muttered, glancing around with a huff.

Dream twitched and looked back over at him, his smile momentarily being lost before he laughed and nodded, twirling his staff round in between his finger tips. "I suppose we should, shouldn't we?"

The skeleton's golden pupils darted around the tall plumes of smoke snaking up into the sky around them, a brow raised as a rather loud explosion went off around seven blocks west. "I think I might know where our monsters are, Cross."

"You don't say." He said, already marching over there with Dream leading the way in a run, his staff held behind him and ready to swing round and beat the shit out of whoever crossed his path.

The two reached the scene within a minute, screaming women and men rushing past them with wide and terrified eyes, cries for help echoing from every direction.

Cross tried to block them out as best as he could, staring at whatever monster - or monsters - had caused all this havoc.

It appeared to only be one person. A skeleton was sat on the rubble of a burning car, picking their teeth with a pointed fingertip and staring lazily up at the sky. Around them, two defeated hero's led limply on the ground, blood pooling around their twisted bodies. They were dressed simply, a light blue zip hoodie ripped and stained with blood hanging loosely off of his shoulders. A white-come-grey sweater was worn beneath, a red burning target symbol glowing above it and sending crimson shadows across their smirking face. A silver pupil turned to stare at them lazily, black tar dripping from their narrowed eye sockets and running all the way down to their jaw line.

They stared at the two of them for a moment, never loosing the smirk as they slid off of the burning wreck of the car and leaned back against it instead, elbows pressed against the metal casually. "Is this all? I was kinda hoping for some high ranked Heroes, not some wannabes."

His words burned with malice, eyes resting on Dream before lingering on Cross with a sigh. "But, I guess you'll have to do."

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, Killer." Dream said, taking a few steps forwards. He knew this villain all too well.

Killer was part of a large villain mob that loved nothing more than to wreck havoc and cause trouble for the Hero association. It was a real pain in the ass, having at least one person from the group show up once a week to mess up a city and kill a few innocent civilians. They were all tough, but just what Cross needed to boost his Hero rank.

The villain gave a sly laugh, licking his teeth visibly and pushing off of the car. "Alright then angel boy - or whatever your Hero name is - let's go. Oh and you," he stared at Cross intently "you look young, go home."

The boy went to retort back only to feel something hard and solid slam into his chest, knocking the breath out of his non-existent lungs and forcing him to his knees.

Dream pulled away his staff and continued to stare at Killer, not sparing a glance at his student. "He's right Cross. You'll only get hurt, or in my way. Stay down."

"Wh- Dream n-no wait I can help!" But the Hero was already running, his expression determined as he stared at the grinning skeleton in front of him. "Dream!"

The golden Hero got within around five metres to the villain before suddenly the floor and buildings around them shook, shuddering thumps and and jarring jolts making Cross bones rattle and 'ears' ring.

He had about two seconds to process what might be happening before the building beside him erupted. Something large bulldozed through it, completely wrecking its crumbly supports and shattering all the fragile glass. It came showering down like some rain from hell, the boy barely able to shield himself as the shards stabbed into the ground all around him. Some actually bounced off his body, others digging in and earning muted hisses of pain.

People all around him were screaming, the wail of a baby catching his attention as he looked up, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. A woman had fallen to the glass next to him, a child looking no older than one clutched to her chest and shrieking. She had a sharp barb of glass stuck in her arm, the point of it disappearing way below the flesh.

Lurching to his feet Cross staggered over, grabbing her good arm and pulling her to her feet, ignoring the terrified cries that earned in response. "C'mon! It's not safe here, get up!"

As soon as she realised he was trying to help, she quietened down a little and clutched her child tighter, limping along with him to the shelter of the nearest building where at least fifteen other people were all cowering inside, wide eyes staring out in fear.

"Hey- it's going to be okay." He pushed her down to a sitting position, his pupils momentarily darting over all the battered looking hideaways that had tried to seek refuge. "I'm h--"

"LOOK!" One of them cried suddenly, pointing out the window. "IT'S THE HERO THE LIGHT BRINGER HERE TO SAVE US!"

Cross whipped around in surprise just in time to see his Sensei block a punch from a giant muscular monster with his staff, the excitement clear in his eyes.

Blinking rapidly, he walked out of the shelter, watching as Dream went up against a monster at least ten times his size. It was easily thirty ft' tall, boil covered grey skin that seemed too small for its body, splitting everywhere and leaving it peeling and disgusting. Like the classic ogre-ish villain they had no shirt, probably torn to pieces earlier. Their fingers were fat and lumpy, metre long claws curling from them sharply. Three of them looked broken, the usually yellow scratched nails being left in stumps bleeding a thick blue blood.

The skeleton slammed his staff repeatedly into their nails every time they made a swipe at him, snapping off one at a time with a sickening crack that would stay implemented in his mind for at least the next few days.

Giggling hysterically above them Killer skipped across the monster's shoulders, a delighted look on his face as he scampered down his arm and onto an apartment balcony. He slumped against the rails with his elbows propping himself up, pupils flicking over the scene in front of him eagerly.

Cross went silent as he watched people cheer for Dream, calling his dumb Hero name over and over and simply inflating his already oversized ego. Of course people would push him onwards, all the attention simply meaning he couldn't fail in front of everyone. Retarded TV shows had already started risking their poor cameramen and reporters to get even the smallest clip of the fight. Normally there wouldn't bee too much coverage for a dragon threat, but with a high ranking Hero thrown into the mix, coverage was suddenly important.

You see in this world, the cities were constantly plagued with villains and monsters that wanted nothing more than destruction to satisfy their sick and deranged minds. Having had enough, a group of people developed a society, the Hero Society. They gave wannabe people wanting go help other people and do good things a job they could actually be paid for. If you passed the test you'd become a hero, thrown down to the bottom ranks where no one knows you. If you want to get the money and recognition, you had to be a top ranking Hero.

It was a hierarchy. You'd start off at the very lowest. Rock bottom at C Rank. The more monsters and villains you defeat, the higher your rank goes. B Rank was where you started getting at least a little recognition, occasional people recognising you on the streets or newspaper coverage. A Rank was where you're known everywhere, people from there getting attention left right and centre. Some even get damn fan mail. But then there was S Rank. The highest you could be. There were only eighteen places up there currently, and each and every one of those Heroes were something to be afraid of. People like them were only ever called out in extreme case emergencies, considered to be life threatening.

Cross himself was C Rank. Number 109. Nothing impressive that gave him bragging rights, but he was slowly trying to claw his way up to at least a B Rank. Then maybe Dream would take him a little more seriously. Actually, that would do nothing to help. You see, Dream was an S Rank. Number Five. People from all around knew him to be a terrifying opponent that fought for justice, not stopping until evil was crushed. That's what they saw anyway.

"Cross!"

He blinked, snapping from his thoughts as something was thrown roughly at his feet. "Wha--"

"Stop daydreaming. Don't let him escape."

He watched in surprise as Dream sprang back to fight the monster, leaving the groaning figure of Killer curled up by his feet. He stared at the skeleton for a moment before a burning knife appeared by his side and he pointed it down at him, the tip brushing their chest.

Killer went still with a broken grin, his pupils rolling down to fixate on the red blade. "Ooh, that looks sharp."

"It is, so shut up." He growled, pressing the tip down enough just enough for the man to wheeze in pain.

The villain giggled softly and tipped his head back, trying to watch the fight unfolding behind them from upside down. "Who's winning?"

"I said shut up." He glared down at him before staring back at Dream as he sent one last swing at the beast's skull, the giant creature stumbling and going crashing to the ground and sending shudders through the concrete beneath his feet.

The Hero panted heavily and looked down at the fallen creature, a triumphant smile spreading across his face and he held his staff high in the air for everyone to see.

Once realising they were safe, people quickly started streaming from their hiding places, all cheering and clapping the proud Hero.

"Hey kid!" Killer whisper shouted and poked his foot, catching his attention. "Who even are you? And why are you with such a high ranking Hero?"

"I'm his student, idiot. Now do I really have to tell you to shut up for the third time?" He kicked him lightly in the side, grunting.

"A student, hey?" His grin somehow managed to widen, his eyes staring at the boy with an intent he didn't like the look of. "That's...interesting."

"Oh for the forth time, shut the hell up!" He pressed the knife into his chest and earned a yelp of surprise, gaspy hisses of pain resulting afterwards. Shaking his head he turned to look at his master once more, seeing how he smiled happily and bowed in front of the crowds of relieved people, all of them clapping for him. He had saved them after all.

He watched as continued his happy and perfect act, never once loosing that charming smile as he slowly made his way over to Cross. He kept his gaze on the people around him though, not paying mind to his student in the slightest. This would always happen after a fight. The attention would soak into him like a sponge until he was so full of it that he'd forget things. Like Cross.

The man stood there for a good three minutes, revelling in all his glory before he finally turned to face Cross. For whatever reason, his face dropped as he did, a deep frown forming.

The boy blinked, not quite sure what he'd done wrong. "Dream?"

"You idiot!" He seethed, stopping in front of him. "Where did he go?!"

"Wh- where did who--" He cut himself off as he looked down. Instead of seeing Killer lying their smugly with the knife blade keeping him pinned, there was just the empty cold concrete floor. Nothing else. He was gone.

"What? I-I swear he was there a second ago!" He said, whipping around at the sound of a cold giggle.

They both turned to stare as Killer slunk backwards, two knives spinning in his fingers loosely. He tilted his head to the side and smiled innocently, his pupils shining as a dark portal appeared behind him.

It looked similar to one of Dream's portals, only instead of glowing golden, it was pitch black. The surface looked like it was littered with stars, shimmering deep purples and blues. Dark mist surrounded it and it weaved forwards, coiling round Killer's ankles like snakes.

"You know I'd love to stay, truly, I would. But I've got stuff to do~" He drawled, blowing a kiss and giving a fingered wave before stepping back through the portal and disappearing. It vanished as soon as he did, leaving them empty handed and alone.

"Dream look I--"

"Idiot!" The taller hissed, smacking him harshly round the face. "You let a high classed villain escape with valuable info we need. All because you're too bloody incompetent."

Cross reeled backwards, clutching his burning cheek with a hand and hunching over, shocked. He'd slapped him. In the middle of broad daylight.

Dream glared down at him, ignoring any fans that came running over this time. It seemed they hadn't seen the slap. That or they just didn't care. "Get in, now."

A portal opened to his side and he winced, knowing exactly what would come once he stepped through there. But the quicker he did so, maybe it would be lessened. He stood up straighter and inhaled sharply, feeling the head of Dream's staff jab into his back and push him forwards.

He stumbled through the portal, finding himself back in his apartment room for a change. But no sooner than his feet had made contact with the floor something solid connected with his skull, buckling his knees and sending him crashing to the ground.

Crying out weakly, he curled up, trying to cover his face as Dream glared down at him with disgust.

"I'll teach you not to mess up like that again. Don't worry Cross, it's all part of the training process."

——————

The boy stared dully at his apartment wall, staring at one of the few picture frames he'd hung up. It was battered and dented, the wooden frame covered in bumps and scratches while the glass pane covering the old picture had a multitude of spiderwebbing cracks that came from the bottom right corner. The picture inside was faded, all the colours reduced to pale browns and yellows from seeing too much sunlight. But it was a picture of him, smiling up at his mum and dad with his three brothers clinging to his side, all of them looking so happy.

The picture had been taken when they were young, Cross being only five at the time, but he still remembered when they took it. His mum had set up a timer on their camera and propped it precariously on a log before rushing back with everyone yelling and shouting for her to hurry before the timer went off. They'd got so many failed pictures of her running across the line of sight, or her tripping over and crashing into everyone mid run. But they'd finally got it, all of them laughing and looking at each other in nothing more than childish delight.

Yes they weren't all in their proper positions, and yes his mum looked like she'd just ran a marathon in it. But it was the one picture that described their family best.

He smiled weakly, staring at the picture. They'd died two years ago. Their family home crushed by some bloodthirsty monster that a hero couldn't control. He'd been out at the time, having just had a huge row with his parents over his dropping school grades. And then they were gone.

That's why he'd wanted to become a hero in the first place. To take down whatever monster had taken down his family and ultimately, stop it from happening to someone else.

But he was finding it harder than he thought. Fighting your way to the high ranks was virtually impossible; after a year of trying, he'd only made it from C Rank 346 to 109. So of course he'd been delighted by the offer of an S Rank Hero, Dream, to train him. I mean, who would say no to that? But he quickly realised that he wasn't as he seemed. No one can have this kind of job and be happy and positive 24/7. And that was true. Dream may strike a smile and act all happy around the civilians while at work, but while home he was a cold and heartless bitch. He'd frequently beat Cross if he did something wrong, saying that this was the only way he was going to learn. And in a way he was right. I mean, he never made the same mistakes again after Dream had finished with him.

The sudden sound of his phone ringer went off and he blinked, looking slowly down to see who was calling. Dream.

Quickly as possible he answered it, fumbling with the phone and almost dropping it twice. "D-Dream?" Curse his shaky hands and stuttering voice.

"Cross, the villains are back. Threat level Dragon again, for now."

"Okay, um, where are they?"

"Here."

"Wh--" He froze upon hearing screams outside, dropping the phone and rushing to the window to see a group of three walking down the street slowly, blood soaking their clothes and sending people running as fast as they could in the opposite direction. "I'm on my way!"

He quickly hung up the phone, throwing his scarf around his neck and grabbing his keys before sprinting out of his apartment room and vaulting over the stair railings. God he loved doing that. Pushing past terrified streams of people he ran, ignoring the dull pain in both his ankles from what had happened the other day and trying to focus on the fact that three threat level Dragon monsters were in the heart of his city.

The threat levels had been made by the society. Level Tiger meant that a group of probably amateur villains were trying to cause destruction while being easy to beat, and not much of a threat to human life. Once there was a substantial threat to human life, they'd up the Threat level to Dragon; the most common of threats they faced. If there was a chance of the whole city being destroyed with a devastating loss of life, then they'd reach Threat Level Demon. And then God level was only issued if the entire world was at risk of extinction. That had only ever happened once, and way before he was born.

Skidding out of the front doors and into the courtyard outside, he paused. The three Villains were all stood there, staring straight at him with grins wider than a shark's on their faces. This had never happened before. Why were they waiting for him?

He recognised Killer quick enough, the skeleton gleaming with excitement as he slowly started towards the boy, the other two following.

One of the other Villains was much larger than him, a blood red eye staring at him from empty eye sockets. A gaping hole was smashed in the side of his skull, jagged fragments of bone sticking up messily like teeth stained with blood. His dark hoodie was stained brown with the dried liquid, hands forever looking slightly pinkish from where he never bothered to wash his hands.

To the other side of Killer another skeleton stood. Their pupils were mismatched and dilated, constantly darting over Cross and scanning every inch of him. His body was covered in the dust or other monsters, and Cross assumed that his trainers didn't use to be red.

The three walked towards him slowly and he panicked, taking quick and messy steps backwards while summoning a knife by his side.

Come on Dream, where the hell are you?

"You're The Light Bringer's student, right?" The one with the broken skull called, his voice gruff and low.

"Yeah, and?" Cross shakily readjusted his grip on the knife hilt, his fingers already feeling slick with sweat and making it increasingly hard to keep the large weapon from slipping out of his grasp.

"No and." The third monster laughed, tilting their head to the side. "That's all the info we need to know."

The teen stumbled backwards as they all suddenly lunged towards him, swinging his knife round to brush their clothes before all three had grabbed him. The third one grabbed his wrist, bending it back until he cried out and dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter. The other two then twisted his arms behind his back painfully, forcing him down to his knees.

"Wh-What are you doing?!" He hissed, struggling and lashing out as the three quickly immobilised him, a knife being pressed against his throat.

"Master's orders, darling. Sorry." Killer snickered softly, only to yell and dive out of the way as an arrow slammed into the floor in the direct path of where his skull would have been.

The three Villains looked around in surprise, staring at the figure of Dream as he marched towards them, bow in hand. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my student?"

"Dream!" He gasped, struggling in his assailants grip and snarling when they simply gripped onto him tighter.

"Let him go." Dream growled lowly, his eyes narrowed and arrow trained directly at the brute's chest. "He's got no part of this, it's me you're after."

Killer laughed, pulling the arrow from the ground and slinking around Cross slowly, the feather tipped weapon being spun between his fingers. "No angel, it's actually not you we're after." He grinned widely, pressing the arrow tip against Cross' throat. "It's him."

"Wh- I don't understand." Dream said, staring at his students half-terrified-half-pissed expression.

"You don't have to." The hooded one hissed, mismatched eyes narrowed. "Just let us take him and all will be good. You don't have to worry about getting your hands dirty; just go home."

"You're not going anywhere with him." He slung his bow over his shoulder and gripped his staff between his gloved hands, challenging them.

Sighing under his breath Killer tipped his head back, biting his tongue. "Alright then, have it your way Angel Boy. Horror, Dust, go teach him a lesson~"

The two skeletons let go of Cross quickly, low chuckles leaving them as an axe and a sharp knife appeared in each of their hands. They started towards Dream, sick with excitement.

Attempting to scramble to his feet, the boy felt himself pushed back down quickly and a curved dagger made its presence known by pressing sharply against his throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

He stiffened and clenched his teeth tightly, but listened and sunk back down to his knees slowly, arms behind his back and fidgeting. If he could just summon a knife...

Killer hummed softly, keeping his free arm wrapped around Cross' shoulder and basically using him to lean on. He watched intently as Horror and Dust fought Dream. Despite it being two against one, it was clear that the Hero was winning. He groaned under his breath and pulled the boy to his feet, glancing around. "Just stand here and look scared for a few more minutes, okay? Times nearly up."

"What the hell does that mean?" He squirmed a bit, huffing and twisting his fingers. "You'll see." Was his response, the skeleton not really paying much attention to him and watching as Horror was slammed against the floor roughly.

"Sure." Cross scoffed and stared down at the floor, his hands finally finding the right position. He summoned a knife, the blade slicing right through Killer's side and earning a shriek. Falling backwards he fell, hitting the ground and writhing in pain, gasping like a fish left on land.

He jumped away from the fallen Villain quickly, turning to see that Dream had also successfully grounded Dust as well.

The Hero panted, staring at him with what he could have sworn was concern. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah." He wiped some blood from his chin and nodded, checking himself up and down. His knees were a bit scuffed, but otherwise he seemed fine. "I'm good, what about you?"

"I'm fine..." He trailed off, his mouth momentarily twisting into a frown before panic struck his expression. "Cross look out!"

The skeleton gasped, something cold and sliming suddenly wrapping around his waist and squeezing tightly. His air cut off and he choked, looking down to see something black and glistening coiled around his mid-section.

"Cross!" He could faintly hear Dream yell his name before he was yanked back harshly, his neck snapping forwards painfully as he felt himself pulled through something that sent icicles through his entire body. The last thing he saw before being dragged into the darkness was three other similar appendages grabbing then limp bodies of the Villains and dragging them from the same portals that Killer had escaped from last time.

And then everything went black.

——————

"That's him? The Light Bringer's student?"

"Yup."

"Are you sure? He looks pathetic. And he's only a C Rank. This can't be right, why would he pick someone so small and weak as a student to train?"

Cross squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his whole body aching and stiff. He could faintly hear voices mumbling around him, people discussing under their breaths about him. His body yearned to move, itching to jump up and find some sort of comfort. But he stayed exactly still, too afraid to do anything else. Where was he? Who had taken him? Why had they taken him? None of what had happened made any sense.

The hushed voices suddenly went silent upon the sound of footsteps, the cold sound of shoes hitting tiled stone ringing out and sending spikes of fear through his body.

"Do you think Killer might have been wrong, my Lord?" One asked, their voice scornful.

"No." Someone responded, their voice deep and rough. "No he wasn't wrong, that is indeed my Brother's student."

Brother?

"And he's awake."

Cross went rigid. The footsteps slowly made their way towards him, sending his soul into a panicked mess thundering against his rib cage. His breathing caught in his throat and he gasped, rolling over and thrusting a knife up at whoever stood above him.

"And feisty."

The boy panted, staring up with wide and scared eyes as a figure looked down at them, the knife having speared harmlessly through one of their black, dripping tentacles. Just like the one that had dragged him away earlier.

A skeleton stood there, a dangerously charming smile spread across their face and one shining blue eye staring back at him. They appeared to be covered completely in slime, the tar like substance dripping from their body smoothly and seeping into clothes, bone, shoes, you name it. It was everywhere. They crouched down slowly in front of him, pulling the knife from their tentacle and casting it to the side. The blade threw up sparks as it dragged across the floor, sliding for a few metres before spinning to a humiliating stop.

"That wasn't very nice now, was it?" They whispered, voice dripping with malice. "Your pathetic master can't save you here, kid. So I suggest you stop acting so brave."

Cross bit his tongue harshly, fingers trying and failing to dig into the flagstone floor. He recognised this man. This was the Villain known on the streets as "The King of Darkness", Dreams biggest rival and threat level demon.

He was a Hero gone rogue, an experiment gone wrong corrupting his entire body and shattering his moral, turning him into the world's most powerful known Villain to date. And of course, Dream's brother.

"Recognise me, do you?" He said, noticing the look in his eyes. "Heh, there's no need to look so afraid." He pushed himself up to his feet, turning. "Now get up."

Cross did so quickly, not wanting to find out the consequences if he didn't. Shaking slightly, he stared at the King. "What the hell d-do you want with me?"

"Simple," he stared walking, not bothering to check if Cross was following "we'll use you for ransom. My brother surely wouldn't let any harm come to his only student. We'll force him to do whatever I want on the terms that you remain unscathed otherwise. You know, classic Villain stuff."

"So you kidnapped me as hostage?!" He cried, looking around him to see the many faces of familiar faces many Heroes had fought in the past and failed or won against. He recognised the scowling faces of Horror and Dust, bruised and bloody. But no Killer. Maybe the stab wound had killed him?

"Perhaps."

Trailing along behind the Villain he kept his head down, breathing shaky and weak. What were they going to do with him while they waited for Dream? Where would they keep him? How would they treat him? He gulped down bile from his throat, becoming incredibly light headed with panic. Black dots danced in his vision and he stumbled to a stop, gripping the wall and panting.

"Kid?" He heard the Villain call, turning to look at him in amusement as he sunk to the floor shaking, eyes closed and fingers digging into his skull.

"Oh sweet mother." He grumbled, seeing Cross' state. "C'mon, I'm not going to kill you. Yet, anyway." He curled a tentacle around his wrist and wrenched him to his feet, dragging him along the dark torch lit corridors and completely ignoring his desperate protests. Why did everyone assume they'd die as soon as a Villain kidnapped them? He had no idea.

He led him through the labyrinth, muttering under his breath the whole time as muted whimpers and meek pleads to be let go came from the teen behind him. Naturally he ignored him, having got quite good at doing that over the past five minutes.

Eventually they reached a large pair of double doors made from a royal looking oak. The surfaces were covered in deep carvings, depicting all sorts of patterns and images of mystical creatures, warriors and scenery. They towered metres above the two of them, making them look like ants in its presence.

The Villain grunted and leaned against the doors, pushing with his shoulder and groaning as the doors slowly swung open, revealing what looked like a throne room on the other side. "Yeah, classic evil base, you don't need to tell me."

Cross stayed silent, having given up on begging for freedom, he clearly wasn't going to get it. Instead he hung his head, watching as his feet scuffed on the dusty floor. He did flinch when the doors slammed shut behind them, but didn't make a sound, his throat dry and raw.

"Your new home will be just along here." He hummed, pulling him along once more and walking past a couple of menacing looking steel doors. They slowed to a stop at one of them, a pair of keys jangling in his hands as he sorted through them to try find the right one. "Aha."

He pushed the key into the lock, turning it with a little effort and swinging the door open slowly. Cross stepped forwards, meekly looking into the room that was most likely going to become his prison cell for many, many days. Maybe even weeks? He shuddered at the thought.

It was cold and dark inside, a small candle being the only source of light. Against the back wall a rickety bed stood, made of metal instead of wood. There was a small pillow and scraggly blanket, but that was it. Nothing else was in the cell, no windows other than the small square boxed bars in the front door around the size of both his palms pressed together. The walls were made from cracked stone, the cell looking like it had actually been carved into the rock.

His breathing quickened as he was shoved inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a bang. He twisted around and pressed himself against it, hands gripping onto the bars tightly. "N-No wait! You can't leave me here!"

The octopus grinned widely, turning to look him up and down slowly. "I think you'll find, kid, I actually can."

"Wait no please!" He yelled, throwing himself against the door and pounding it with his fists. But the man simply ignored him, turning back and continuing to walk off until he blended in with the chilling darkness.

Cross sunk to the floor weakly, shivers wracking his body and hugging his legs close to his chest. He hid his face in his knees and rocked back and forth, biting his lip incredibly tightly until he felt the metallic sting of blood run onto his tongue.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there for, mumbling under his breath to himself and taking in deep breaths. He tried to tell himself that it was all a nightmare. A bad dream that he'd wake up from soon enough. Yeah, that had to be it, right? Soon he'd wake up and find himself back in the comforting embrace of his blankets, having missed seven calls from Dream. He'd rather take a beating from that Hero instead of being stuck down here.

"Th-This is all a dream... Yeah, that's r-right, it's just a horrible, dark, twisted dream... S-Soon you'll wake up, a-and everything will be back to normal. Everything."

——————

Everything wasn't back to normal when he woke up.

AAAAND I GAVE UP THERE AHAHAHAHZYZISJZHSJS

basically Nightmare was going to use Cross as a way to get to Dream and defeat it but they were gonna be cliche and fall in love so Cross turns eVil 👀

———————————————————————

AAAAAANNNDDD THATS ALL I HAVE AHAHAHAHAJSJHXDOKDHDJD, ANYTHING ELSE IS COMPLETE TR A SH SO YEA

HOPE YOU ENJOYED SKSJDJSJHAYSYJZHXUSJZHZIST

THESE ARE SO BAD IM SORRY BUT I WAS PROUD AT THEM AT THE TIME (not now though lmao) SO I DIDN'T WANT THEM TO ROT

That's enough caps lock 😳

If for some reason you're still here after all 9,257 words then I commemorate you

New actual chapter coming soon 👀

New plot thingy too 😔

Okay bye, thanks for reading my trash

-Jess-