forum funking,,,,,,,,JEANUBIS
Started by @AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage
tune

people_alt 68 followers

@AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage

its ok i am a patient bitch when it comes to this kinda stuff no need to strain urself!!!

also they are hurt bc they r little shits

@AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage

ALSO ALSO!!! I'm getting very close to finishing up the next chapter of that one AU!!! imma just call it murder house AU to make it easier,,,in fact now that i think about it i might go back and name all the AU's so it's easier to refer to them next time

@AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage

Murder House AU! Chap 5

Her voice protrudes through the stone like a bullet.

"I thought you vowed never to hurt your own flesh and blood, Jean."

Jean rolls his shoulders, ignoring her as we walk through the hallway. The two of us slowly grew more curious where the end of the hallway was, but I started to think she's taking us through a loop. Jean and I both knew the girl would continue talking, but Jean refused to respond or react anyway.

"What changed your mind? Did you rise from the ashes with the revelation that you didn't deserve to be treated that way?"

Was it just me, or was her voice getting closer? Jean and I approach a door as he tries the knob; locked, of course. He and I exchange glances as we silently plan on how to get through. As he takes a few steps away from the door, I take in my surroundings to see if there's anything I could use. That's when I notice the air vent.

"Did something…snap?"

Jean rams his shoulder into the door, but to no avail. I take a shot at it as well; no luck. I eye the air vent a second time, starting to feel uneasy about it. Should I say something, or would Jean tell me it's unimportant?

"What snapped in you, Ch-"

Jean interrupted her. I look over at him, his face clearly exasperated as he rolls his eyes impatiently.
"Get to the point."
The silence that follows admits that both Jean and the girl are wearing each other's patience down. Something scratched in the back of my mind, but I couldn't place what it was.

"We all have our demons, Mr. White. It's only a matter of time before you allow yours to dominate."

Did she just say demons? Wasn't there something about demons in one of the scribbles?

"I bet you two would love to hear a fun fact."

We both groan in dismay as she continues. I sit down and sigh, but Jean merely leans against the wall and crosses his arms, closing his eyes in an attempt to keep himself calm.

"The female's sense of smell is actually stronger and more reliable than the male's sense of smell. Isn't that so fun?"

What does that have to do with anything? Jean pulls out a knife from his boot and traces it with his fingers, bored and impatiently waiting for her to finish. I stick my hands in my pockets.

"Now if either of you were a woman, you might have smelled the gas that's slowly been filling your room there."

I quickly snatch my hands out of my pocket and stand up, looking up to the vent as I notice the air seeping out the bottom of it. How long has it been doing that? How could I not have noticed?

"But men only start to smell it after it becomes too dangerous to even flick a quick lighter on. How's that for fun?"

Jean and I gaze at each other in a moment of panic as we attempt to lift the collar of our shirts over our mouths and noses. The girl's laughter accompanies whatever gas was filling the air around us as Jean takes another shot at the door.

"Oh, if only either of you had half a brain, you'd realize there's no way a human being could get through that door."

"What are we supposed to do, then? Are you just gonna kill us?"
I yell out, knowing I should ration my breath instead of breathing heavily and quickly, but unable to contain my frustration. Jean's eyes fall to my pocket as a bead of sweat drips down his temple.
"We're not supposed to get through the door on our own."
My eyes flicker at Jean, a short moment of confusion as to what he could be talking about, but I quickly realize where his eyes had fallen.
"That'll blow us both up."
Jean shakes his head, his breath hitting the shirt.
"Not if we take cover, throw the lighter at the door."
Every fiber of my being said no. Surprisingly, I didn't want to die by explosion. As much as I enjoyed grazing my fingers over the fire, this was too much, and it could kill us both, or worse, it could almost kill us both, and we'd be suffering with deforming scars over our entire bodies.
"Christ, Anubis, just throw the lighter."
I snatch the lighter from my hands and hold it away from me, backing up with Jean against the wall as I place my finger over the trigger. After flicking the lighter on, I quickly toss it away from us, creating a blast to erupt directly in front of us, the core following the lighter. As the fire inflates in all directions, Jean and I hit the ground, exposing our backs to the explosion and protecting our fronts. Of course, the impact still sent us flying, along with bits of debris following us close behind.
You'd think I would have gotten used to such a specific type of excitement, but I found myself blanking. The heat hitting my back must have done something, or I just wasn't paying attention, but it all happened in slow motion.
Jean's muffled voice-was it muffled? I could hear a distant voice calling me, but the ringing in my ears dominated. I blink my eyes to look up, heat waves hitting my skin and causing my eyes to water as I notice Jean's panicked face, almost as if he's yelling at me. Why was he yelling at me? His eyes flicker to a piece of debris flying straight for me, but I don't process it. In a quick move, Jean launches himself at me, hitting me backwards as the piece flies by and grazes Jean's back. My back hit the wall, knocking the wind out of me as I realize how thin the oxygen has gotten. My legs give out and I let myself fall to the ground, Jean following on his knees. I cough and inhale deeply, but Jean covers my mouth with his hand, which almost glowed from the fires surrounding us. Hitting the wall somehow retrieved my hearing, but I almost missed the deafening silence as Jean starts yelling at me.
"Are you fucking crazy?!" He coughs out, his voice hoarse. Crazy? He's the one who wanted me to throw the lighter. What is he talking about?
He drops his hand, turning to where the door used to be, then back to me. Going by the look on his face, I wasn't looking good. Was he considering going on without me? My vision starts to fade as I struggle to breathe, unable to come to a decision myself before my head grows too heavy for me to hold it up.
"Ah, fuck it." Jean utters before scrambling to stand up.
Was he really going to leave me?
I don't get the opportunity to find out before my eyelids fall closed, my body growing limp.

@AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage

Party Drunk Jean AU!

Jean doesn't smile very often. At least, not when he's sober. We hadn't found a decent paying job in a while so Jean decided to enjoy his break. Jean may be an addict, but he's responsible when it comes to getting drunk; he stays at his house. However, tonight, he went to a club first. I suggested I come with him to avoid him drunk driving but he ensured me he'll be fine, which was probably a lie. I shrugged it off and decided to get some things done. First, I took on a minor hacking job to get some practice in; not that I needed any, but I was bored. I was interrupted by Prince's meowing for dinner, so I prepared him a meal from the hidden fish flavored cat food.
I eye the piano that sat in the living room. Something about Jean is that his gift-giving skills are so unpredictable. Every year for Christmas he'll get me another computer mouse, but once he learned I play piano he hauled in a huge ass grand piano into his house and pretended to be mad at me for four days so that I couldn't go to his house until Christmas.
I blink my eyes to find I was sitting on the bench in front of the piano. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to play a few notes.
I straighten up my posture and lift the lid over the keys, Prince finishing his food and quickly hopping onto the cover. I turn my wrists and stretch my hands out for a moment, watching Prince find a comfortable spot. I didn't really plan on playing anything in particular, but as soon as I closed my eyes and pressed the keys, the notes seemed to flow well enough. Prince curled into a ball and quickly fell asleep to the song, breathing heavily.
I'm not sure how much time had passed, I realized I hadn't looked at the clock since Jean left, but I heard Jean unlocking the door. I scramble to stand up and close the lid as he opens the door and stumbles inside.
He locks eyes with me as a huge grin grows upon his face, raising a finger at me.
"You're playing jus now, weren'chu?"
He drops his keys on the floor and leans against the wall to mask the fact that he can barely hold himself up at the moment.
"What does it matter? Anyway, how the hell did you drive yourself home?"
He opens his mouth to talk, his eyes falling away as if he forgot how or something. After a few moments of silence his eyes light up and he raises his finger again.
"I too…n Uber."
He utters, slurring his words and giving me a face that communicates I'm stupid for not knowing.
"You took an Uber? Is your location on?"
I snap, as if it matters. Jean shakes his head vigorously, which only causes him to grow more dizzy.
"No, I…" He starts, another grin filling his face. "I left it at, the club."
He nods at me, exaggeratedly gesturing for me to come over to him.
"Hey, I'm, like, really drunk r'now, can you…help me to my room?"
I roll my eyes and approach him, apprehensive considering the chances he could throw up on me. He really was wasted.
I grab his arm and wrap it over my shoulder, Prince watching intently from the piano. As we reach the hall, Jean waves to Prince.
"He 'njoys your piano playin', y'know."
I gaze at Prince as he lets out an affirmative, 'Meow' before we enter Jean's bedroom. Jean getting party drunk was never a common occurrence but when it did happen, it almost felt like talking to a completely different person. I didn't want to think of it as Jean's true self, because this part of him is just too far out of character for me to believe it's him. However, Jean's other versions of his drunk self touch into the inner parts of Jean that he never expresses. Is this just Jean's suppressed inner thoughts that remain in his subconscious?
I help him to his bed as he allows himself to fall onto the mattress, not bothering to put on the blankets. He immediately starts shooing me to leave the room, so I turn around to exit.
"Anubis?"
"Yeah?"
"You rival Mozart."
"Okay."