“Confession: I found it strange how in Together Breakfast (or whatever it was titled) nobody made a big stink about Amethyst turning into a male form, yet everyone got riled up over a skinny Rose Quartz fanart. I mean, the gems can take whatever form they please, and it also is puzzling how they don’t use different forms often. Are their powers not as strong in different forms? I mean, I know a few situations where a T Rex Amethyst would have done the trick”
Author’s Note: I know it’s a little late for Valentine’s Day, but I had this idea and thought it was really cool
* * * * *
You’re single, and kind of homicidal, so when the clock strikes midnight and turns the day into one you despise most - Valentine’s - you decide that nothing will be better for you than a fresh kill. Plunging a knife into a waiter maybe, or seducing your mailman and chopping him into tiny little bloody pieces.
The options are still kinda fuzzy, when you hear a horn outside of your cheap motel door, but then it becomes obvious what you need to be doing. Hitchhiking, duh.
* * * * *
Jerome whistles as he drives. He doesn’t have anything going on for his Valentine’s Day, and he’s actually quite bummed about it. Since his mother’s murder, he has enjoyed the task of ‘losing his virginity’ to pretty and sensitive victims.
He’s trying to decide where to go to pick up a skirt fitting that criteria when he focuses on you. On the side of the road near a crappy motel, you hold your thumb out patiently.
With a wicked smile, Jerome smooths his hair and pulls up beside you, “Do you need a ride, Miss?” He asks in that alter boy voice of his that makes the ladies swoon. You smile widely and pick up your bag, “Thanks Sugar, I thought I’d be there all day.” You smirk grows as you go out of his sight and to the passenger seat, both of you thinking the same thing: bingo.
* * * * *
“So,” You say flirtatiously to the meek ginger at the steering wheel, “What’s a good looking guy like you doin’ pickin up strangers on Valentine’s Day instead of cuddled up with the preacher’s daughter?”
Jerome cheers on the inside, oh, how he loves the ones who like to tempt. You look at the growing blush on his smooth cheek and laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re still on the market?”
The boy nervously fidgets with his hair, “Guilty as charged, I guess. I never actually leave the market.” You can’t help but laugh at this, and your mind reels. The shy and sweet are always the best, it only ever takes a few compliments and an accidental brush against them to get them alone.
Your wide smile at his words makes Jerome excited, he’s never dealt with anyone so eager to pull him out of his shell. The confidence rolling off of you is absolutely tempting. “Well, it seems like this might be both of our lucky day, Sugar.”
The boy chuckles quietly, and though he says it softly, what he says next has you scanning the car, “It might be your lucky day. For all I know, you could be a murderer. You know what they say about picking up hitchhikers.”
Jerome says it as a joke, his grip on the steering wheel becoming one of stark white knuckles as he attempts to keep his laughter to himself. At least it’s funny until you snort softly, “Me? What about you? Murderers pick up hitchhikers all the time to kill them. I don’t know it’s not your lucky day, I don’t even know your name.”
The boy seems to have lost all traces of a smile, his eyes darting around in what you figure to be nervousness, “Jerome. My name is Jerome. And to be fair, I don’t know your name either, so you could still be a murderer.”
Your chuckle alarms Jerome, “I’m Y/N.” Just as you say your name, Jerome spots a screwdriver in the cup holder between the two of you. As much as he wants to have more fun with you, it probably won’t do much good if you try to yell for help or call the police when he ends up doing something a little too… him. “I uh, I have to stop for gas, if that’s okay with you.”
As soon as Jerome mentions gas, you notice a screwdriver in the cup holder. If he is planning on doing anything dumb, like calling the police, then it’s up to you to stop him. You know, because apparently, he thinks you don’t notice that the gas tank is still practically full. As the car begins to come to a stop at a pump, you start to inch your hand toward thee screwdriver.
Your hum of approval isn’t actually necessary for Jerome to stop, he would have anyway, the longer you live, the more danger he’s in of being found out and then that would lead to having to play the whole cat-and-mouse with the police and who really wants that? He sure doesn’t, so as he slows to a park, his hand sidles to the screwdriver he spotted earlier.
Both of you are inching your hands forward slowly, trying to do it slowly and inconspicuously when your hands touch.
Immediately, you stop moving, “What do you think you’re doing?” You ask Jerome, your eyes wide open. Jerome stares at you, smiling widely - a smile that definitely doesn’t match the alter boy act he was putting on. “Why, I was going to kill you. What exactly do you need the screwdriver for, huh?”
Your smile grows wider too, because he was going to kill you! “I was actually gonna kill you too. Shove the screwdriver into your neck until you stopped gurgling.” You say in a dreamlike haze.
Jerome laughs and pulls his hand from the screwdriver, putting it towards you instead, “Well, I’m Jerome. To uh, to killing other people.” You put your hand in his, chuckling as you shake hands, “I guess this Valentine’s Day won’t be so bad after all.”
A prison AU for Re-Nightmare
Contains: gore, slight sexual themes
Characters belong to Sleepykinq
Alfred sat peacefully on a chair in the clinic, reading a magazine in the silence. Kao had taken a seat a few meters away, staring at a magazine with a slightly red face. The canine yelped as the steel door to the clinic slammed against the wall as Mystery barged in, holding a bag. The feline dropped the bag, a heavy object inside thumping to the floor. “Hello, hello~!” The cat chuckled, glancing at Alfred in Kao in turn. “H-hey, boss.” The dog managed to say, a tinge of nervousness threaded throughout his words. Mystery chuckled, scooping up his bag and holding it, “I had an idea for a rather fun activity we can all participate in today.” The cat said menacingly.
Kao looked up, “O-oh, what is it?” The goat asked.
Mystery turned the bag, three pistols falling out and hitting the table with metallic thumps.
“Let’s rob a bank!” The feline said sharply.
Alfred jumped, “There is absolutely no fucking way in fucking hell I am robbing a fucking bank!” The dog snapped.
Mystery picked up one of the guns and pulled the chamber back, a small click sounding.
The feline aimed the gun at the goat no more than a few feet away.
“Does this change your mind..?” The cat said quietly as the goat covered his face and started trembling in terror.
Alfred sat in silence for a moment, “O-Okay fine! But how do you plan to rob a fucking bank..?” The dog whimpered.
Mystery snorted, moving the gun away from Kao, “How do I fucking know? Let’s just walk in with guns and demand money~” the cat said.
Kao whimpered, “I’m too young to rot in prison..” the goat whined.
Mystery snickered, “Who said we’d be going to prison? If the police come we’ll just shoot our way out of it~” the cat purred.
Alfred had a terrified look on his face, “I’m all for death but- ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE.” The dog shouted. “That’s fucking suicide!” Alfred finished.
Kao nodded a little, “He’s right.” He said.
Mystery chuckled, “I mean if you both rather be stabbed to death by me, whatever works~”
Alfred and Kao cringed in fear, Alfred being the one to speak first. “Fine. But I’m not helping your dumb ass if the police come.” He growled. Mystery shrugged, “Alright, pussy.”
The large van pulled up to the bank as a tiny slit of the moon glowed above, the three males creeping out, the smallest of them trembling in terror. Mystery pushed through the door, the lights in the bank glowing. The feline grinned, sharply firing three ear-bleedingly loud shots into the ceiling. The lone bank teller yelping in fear. “Oh, it’s just one~ now be a dear and fill this bag, hm?” The feline chuckled. The bank teller paused for few moments, sharply hitting the floor and smacking a button. Heavily enforced barriers slammed down, locking them in, Alfred whimpered weakly, “I’m going to die.. aren’t I?” He whined under his breath. Mystery snarled, “MOTHERFUCKING CUNT.” he yelled, slamming his fist into the iron wall protecting the bank teller. The feline repeatedly shot the wall, each bullet lodging into the steel. One broke through and hit the wall in the back. Kao was trembling violently, while Alfred was standing quietly in defeat. Mystery hissed as loud sirens wailed outside, the iron door opening in the front with a wall of armed officers. Mystery paused for a moment, and violently fired shots, the bullets hitting the glass with loud shatters, the glass crumbling onto the ground, Alfred and Kao immediately dropped to the floor as an aray of bullets fired across, Mystery seiged foward, despite his efforts, he was overpowered in moments by tasers and pepper-spray alike being shot all over him. The cat thrashed and hit the ground, hissing and spitting insults to anyone around him. Two officers approached the canine and goat on the floor, “Don’t move!” One said sharply, Alfred grunted in pain as a knee was pressed to his back and his arms forcefully pulled behind him, cringing as cuffs snapped into place around his wrists. Kao whimpered weakly as he was pulled up alongside Alfred, the both of them being dragged out into the parking lot of the bank. Mystery had multiple officers on him, and was cuffed in multiple places, the cat snarled and thrashed with every step, while Kao and Alfred simply followed the officers without any resistance. Mystery turned to them, “You’re both fucking pussies!” The cat hissed angrily. Kao blinked away tears as he was pushed into the police vehicle beside Alfred, who sighed weakly. Mystery was shoved into a separate armored vehicle. Kao sniffed and looked at Alfred, “I don’t want to go- I’ll fucking die in there! I just-” the goat broke off into sobs. Alfred finally spoke, “We’ll be okay. We won’t be in there for life.” The dog said weakly, trying his best to smother the terror in his voice. Kao sniffed, “Is that rumor really true?” He asked. Alfred blinked, “Which one?” He asked. Kao sniffed, “The one about dropping the soap in the prison showers.” The goat whined. Alfred paused, “I-I’m not sure.” He said. An officer finally opened the driver door, “Enough chit-chat you two, time to get going.” The fox said, Kao and Alfred sighed, saying nothing more as the car rumbled as it started, driving off with the handcuffed goat and dog inside.
Written for:@destielonfire ♥♥ Prompt: I would really love a destiel drabble please ^^ can you do my absolute fav trope: enemies to lovers, maybe mixed with the soumate trope? Pairing: Dean/Cas Word Count: 2,820 Tags/Warnings: enemies to lovers, soulmate AU, injuries, bar fights, drunkenness, happy ending
Dean was happy to drown his bad day with several beers and
more than his fair share of fingers of whiskey. He had always thought that
making a business of his enjoyable hobby would be the best thing that happened
to him – except people were picky and people were hurtful when things didn’t go
their way and people didn’t seem to want to pay Dean what he was owed for the
time he spent on their restorations. So he was angry and most of the way to
drunk and he knew Benny, the bartender, was giving him the eyebrow as he
scowled into the fizz of his beer. He really wasn’t up for caring though, and
only huffed at Benny as he handed him a glass of water along with his next
The bar was heating up with the amount of people standing
around and chatting. Dean sighed as he stood up and headed outside to get some
fresh air. His step was wobbly as he navigated the people and it was only when
he felt a shoulder bump into him, spilling his drink down his shirt that he
stopped, turned and socked the first guy he saw, assuming it’d be the guy who knocked
The guy went down hard, clutching his face and wasn’t able
to catch himself as he knocked into a table on the way down.
“Dean!” Someone yelled behind him. The pain in his knuckles
seemed to sober him up some and he realised that the rest of the bar had gone
silent around him, only the soft tune of atmosphere music was still playing.
There was a hand gripping his upper arm, stopping him from going at the guy
The guy was completely floored, clutching his side with one
hand and his eye with the other. Dean breathed heavily as he forced himself to
loosen his fist at his side.
“Dean? C’mon brother, we don’t need none of that in ‘ere.”
There was a tug at his arm but Dean didn’t move, he just stood and stared at
the guy on the floor, shocked with himself more than anything. It wasn’t like
Dean to lose his cool over such a minor thing.
For some reasons I just imagined McCrane and Gunmax at a bar having drinks or what not and Gunmax thinks he’s pretty good at drinking and knowing that McCrane never had drinks before so Gunmax orders some hardcore vodka-level diesels to show off assuming even McCrane wouldnt be able to take them easily but then as the time goes by Gunmax starts to get all fucked up and realizes that McCrane didnt even lose a bit even after drinking like 10 shots. Gunmax, all wasted, is like “wtf r u even real god damn it” and McCrane just looks at him and whispers “son u dont yet know what im capable of”