forum funking,,,,,,,,JEANUBIS

Started August 18, 2018 by @AloeVera groupMentallyImInACottage

tune

chanting PASS OUY PASS OUT PASS OUT PASS OUT PASS OUT PASS OUT PASS OU-

time au

r

Ohohoohohooo

Surprise AU!!!! for funsies!!!

Following a schedule sounds nice at first, until you have to follow it for years to come. I wake up early, I eat breakfast, then I smoke a cigarette outside while a bunch of shady guys play basketball nearby. Lunch time rolls around and then I do a bit of cleaning. After that, I walk around aimlessly until dinner. I wish I could get high, but there's been more and more eyes on me and I'd rather not risk it.
I still ignore everyone, and since I still qualify as an intimidating guy, everyone ignores me. Which, I consider myself lucky for that; with this kind of neighborhood, people thrive on picking fights.
He was pretty quiet too, but something struck me as odd about that. I just can't see him as the quiet, brooding type. Something tells me he's containing himself around others. He looks to the ground and holds himself in a non intimidating way, unlike me.
I found myself sitting across from him at his table one day.
He looked at me, confused, obviously, but I didn't say anything. Instead, I ate my lunch in silence. He returned with the same.
I saw him on the bleachers at the basketball game, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to the game either.
I didn't sit next to him.
But I sat across from him at breakfast the next morning. He looked at me weirdly. I tried not to look at him, but I stole a glance or two. His curious blue eyes still managed to hold a bit of childish color despite the monotonous tones that surrounded us. Freckles dotted his sickly pale face, which happened to be almost the same color as his sickly blond hair. Though he had broad shoulders, he slouched, letting his neck retract into his collar.
"You're not gonna beat me up so you can sit alone, are you?"
He finally broke the silence; I guess he caught me staring.
"Only if you keep quiet while I eat."
He complied and the rest of breakfast was silent. I sat on the bleachers to watch the basketball game, but I guess I didn't really watch the game. I didn't notice his burn marks during breakfast, but they hid well under his white t-shirt.
He wasn't at dinner. I know I would've seen him. I crossed my arms over my chest as I lay in bed. Why have I never seen him before? Have I just not noticed him? I guess he really pulls off that invisible vibe. It works out for those who don't want to be bothered.
"Did you go to sleep hungry?"
I inquire as I pick at my cold eggs with a fork.
He didn't look up at me.
"I wasn't hungry."
I shrug, looking closely at his face. He hid so much behind that nonchalant, empty gaze. I want to know what he held. I stick out a hand, earning a confused glance from him.
"Jean."
He looks at me for a long moment before slowly taking my hand and shaking it.
"Anubis."
"So what happened?"
His eyes held confusion again, so I gesture to his burn marks. He quickly covers them up with his sleeve as he shrugs, setting his elbows on the table and leaning into his hands
"Car crash. It was bad."
I study his body language.
"Wrong answer. Try again."
He furrows a brow at me, crinkling his nose.
"I don't have to tell you."
I squint my eyes at him, leaning in until he could feel my breath on his nose.
" I can still beat you up."
He sucks in a sharp breath before rolling his eyes at me.
"I set a house on fire."
The shameful honesty that he spoke with hit me with surprise.
"So, you decided to just…stay inside the burning house?"
He retaliates, shaking his head.
"That's not how I got these."
"Then how did you get those?"
He dropped his hands on the table, causing a bit of a loud thud to resonate. I looked around to make sure no one looked at us, but also to avoid his irritated glare.
"I changed my mind, just beat me up."
I gaze at him as he returns to his cold breakfast, picking at it rather than eating it.
"Why are you here, anyway?" He asked me.
I sigh and look down, shaking my head at him.
"That's not something you just ask people here."
"So what the fuck were you asking me earlier?"
"I was asking where you got your burn marks, shithead."
"Yeah, well you don't just fucking ask people that either."
We avoid eye contact as I search my mind for something to say.
"You said you set a house on fire?" I ask him.
"Yeah." He mutters.
"And that's why you're here?"
He looked up at me again with cold eyes. I try to keep the tension low.
"I killed someone." I uttered.
He doesn't look away from me, but I could tell he was holding back reacting.
"Did you know him?"
"No."
Breakfast ended soon after that. He wasn't on the bleachers at the basketball game. He wasn't at lunch. I didn't want to admit I was looking for him, but I didn't see him at all the rest of the day.
The next morning, I was awoken by one of the guards. He held a lot of weight, but most of it was muscle. He had a goatee and thin, dark eyes.
He led me down a hall I haven't gone down before. He brought me into a room with two chairs and a table, securing the handcuffs onto the little metal loop, and left.
After a few minutes, a different person walked in; a woman. She had smooth, shining black skin and poofy silver hair. She rattled with jewelry.
She sat across from me, as the guard from before and another stepped in to follow her.
"You go by the name 'Jean', is that correct?"
"What's going on?"
She nodded gently and pulled out a notepad and pen, writing something down.
"My name is Sylvia. I specialize in psychology and the part of the brain that struggles with reality."
"So I'm getting prison therapy? What the fuck is this about?"
"I've been told you're not very social around here."
"What makes you think I'm about to start now?"
She takes in a deep breath, eyes flickering to one of the guards.
"Jean, if you cooperate with me, this will be over soon and you can return to isolating yourself."
I huff at her as I cross my arms.
"Why don't you want to talk to anyone?"
"I'd rather not make friends with people I know I can't trust in the first place."
Sylvia nods thoughtfully.
"So you have trust issues?"
"Would you trust anyone in here? Would you feel comfortable uncuffing me and sending those guards out of the room?"
She shifted in her seat and sighed heavily.
"Jean, I know this might be a lot to ask, but would you mind going back to the night your family passed?"
"Yes, I would mind."
"Do you remember seeing anyone there?"
"You mean other than my family's corpses, or are you just a necrophiliac?"
"Jean."
I look down, sending myself back to when I walked into the burning building.
My mind wanders around the house, watching the curtains catch fire, the paint melt, the wooden chairs turn to black. I tried not to look at the bodies, but I couldn't help it. Crystal had on tons of makeup, as if to cover how high she was. Kristopher seemed to be bleeding from his mouth. Mom, though dead, still looked tense and stiff. Dad was the only one who looked like he died peacefully, and it filled me with rage.
I look up to find myself face to face with a dark figure. Though the fire cracked loudly, I could hear him whisper, "You're welcome."
"I saw someone, but it's just some blurry image. I couldn't really see his face anyway."
She nodded.
"What does this have to do with the brain and reality anyway?" I utter impatiently.
She looked up at me from writing in her notebook. She exchanged a glance with the guard before sighing heavily and locking eyes with me.
"Jean, a few people have reported seeing you talking to what seemed like thin air. We think it might be a defense mechanism that your brain is creating in order to cope with how little you interact with other people."
The words hit me like brass knuckles to the face.
I almost spoke his name out loud, but I feared that would confirm it for her, and I didn't want her to have that satisfaction. Unfortunately, my brain rolled back into yesterday, to the conversation with him.
"You said you set a house on fire?" I asked him.
"Yeah." He muttered.
"And that's why you're here?"
He looked up at me again with cold eyes.
The realization settles in coldly, and I drop my head, trying to lift a hand to the headache that settled in, but held back by the cuffs, so instead my head lands on my hands.
"We'd like to get to know who this person is that you're talking to. Can you describe him?"
I lift my head, my heart beating out of my chest as my eyes bounce everywhere, trying to make sense of it all. Finally I lock my gaze onto her and inhale.
"I was just talking to myself. That's a normal thing that people do. Can I go now?"

update this is gonna get a part 2 bc i have to go deadass good luck love u!!!!!!!!!!!

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oh shit! oh shit it's part 2

I know I'm not hallucinating. I felt his body heat when I leaned in close to him. I didn't expect his replies to what I say. I couldn't have made him up. I didn't make him up. I missed breakfast, so I sat on the bleachers, irritated. The rest of that meeting consisted in me yelling at Sylvia, trying to convince her that I'm not hallucinating.
"Did you go to sleep hungry?"
I turn my head to see him. He raised a single eyebrow at me with a bit of a smirk, but then broke it to explain himself.
"I mean, I was just trying to make fun of what you said yesterday morning, since I missed dinner, but I guess you missed breakfast so you would have…woken up…hungry…is something wrong?"
I blink. I had been staring so closely at him that I started to lean towards him. I straighten myself back up and roll my shoulder.
"Nothing's wrong. You're just weird."
"Where were you instead of breakfast?"
I turn to face him again.
"Where were you? Were you at breakfast?"
He leans back, furrowing his eyebrow at me.
"Obviously, you can't really roam the halls during eating hours." His eyes shifted as he spoke.
"What happened at breakfast?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus, where were you?"
I square my shoulders and keep my face towards the game, not looking at him. Lunch rolled around slowly. I still sat with Anubis, but we didn't talk. As I stand up to throw away my plate, he calls out to me.
"Jean?"
I debate actually turning around, but by the time I come to a decision, I'm already facing him.
"What?"
"You're not crazy."
"What?"
"For killing that man. You did what you had to. I know you wouldn't kill someone if they didn't deserve it."
My eyes fall to the floor as I grip my plate. I turn back around and leave.
As I start my wandering around the building, the same goatee'd guard approaches me again. He guided me to the same room, cuffed me, then opened the door. This time, Sylvia was already sitting there.
"You're really not helping your case, Jean." She chimed.
"Why am I here again? We already went through this this morning."
"In order to keep your eating habits in the same light, we're going to have a one hour discussion at this time everyday."
I yanked at the cuffs, jerking in anger as the guard twitches into a defensive position. Obviously I couldn't get past the handcuffs, so I merely clenched my jaw and hardened my face at her.
"Talking to yourself means looking at nothing in general and muttering under your breath."
"Okay?"
"Talking to another person might warrant behavior similar to standing up from a table, then turning around to react to whoever called your name."
"I'm not talking to anyone."
"Jean, we can't help you if you don't give us more information to work with."
I raise my voice.
"I don't want your fucking help."
Unfortunately, she matched my voice.
"JEAN." She held her composure, but I ran her patience thin. She inhaled and continued, "I'm not the bad guy here. If you let this continue, it's only going to get worse. Your perspective on reality will slip further and further away until you find yourself jumping off a cliff thinking you can fly. This is serious, and if you take this matter seriously, we can treat it before it gets out of hand."
I shake my head, tightening my hand into a fist to hide the fact that it was shaking too. I could feel my throat tightening as I hold back a tear, my eyes already starting to get a little puffy. I look up at her, locking eyes with her.
"He's real."

whoooaoaaaaa part 3 coming probably hopefully soon

oh shit!

oh shit its part 3!!!!!!

"You don't look very happy." Anubis interrupted the breakfast that I was hoping going to be mostly quiet.
His eyes trapped mine as I glare coldly at him, squinting my eyes. He shrugs and looks away casually.
"Then again, in the few days we started talking, you've never looked happy, but right now you look especially angry."
"Can you shut the fuck up?"
He turns back to me, a little taken back by me snapping at him.
"I've had enough of other people telling me about myself." I pause, looking at the table we sat at. "Tell me about yourself."
Anubis looked to the ground to think for a moment.
"I…don't know, I'm rather clever I guess."
"Is that the best you can come up with?" I return coldly.
"What do you want me to say? I enjoy a nice hot Americano and the cracking of a fire on a cool night? Maybe toss in a long walk on the beach. What do you want from me?" His tone of voice started to piss me off. I turn to him, about to snap.
"I want you to prove to me that you're real."
He furrowed his brow, highly confused.
"That I'm real?"
I hold my glare at him as he slowly accepts it, his tongue rolling impatiently in his mouth as he shrugs. Sticking his hands in his pocket, he steps back, swaggering over to another inmate. Before doing anything, he turns to me and winks. He then turns back to the inmate and taps him on the elbow, because the shoulder was too high.
"Hey, you got anything good on you? I know how to pay." He mutters to the man, who seemed genuinely taken back by Anubis talking to him.
Anubis then goes into a quick whisper that I can't hear, and before I know it, the inmate turns to Anubis and hisses, "Fuck off." to which Anubis walks back to me, shrugging casually.
"I sure as hell hope that's what you meant, because I just lost any chance at making friends with him and whoever he's associated with."
I sigh, looking to the floor and crossing my arms. He continues talking.
"Why did you need that, anyway?"
I stare intensely at him, holding my breath. Within seconds the bell rang and everyone dispersed from breakfast.
He wasn't at the game today.
He wasn't at lunch. I couldn't find him before my session. I didn't talk at my session, either. Sylvia spent most of it trying to convince me that I need to be less secretive with her. Infuriated, I finally looked up from the table and spit,
"Why, so you can decide which kind of pills you can shove down my throat in order to turn me into another one of your mindless fucking robots?"
She exhaled, dropping her hands.
"Is that how you feel about medication, Jean?"
I huff, looking away and shaking my head dismissively.
"Are you paranoid, Jean?"
"Stop fucking saying my name."
She huffed back at me.
"What is it about other people that bothers you so much?" Her voice was so painfully smooth. It reminded me of how a hospital smells. I knew there was technically nothing wrong with it, but I felt so uneasy.
I look up at her, noticing the curiosity in her eyes, and feeling compelled to actually answer.
"The lack of consistency." I begin, wishing I could cross my arms. "People cling to something to believe in and then abandon it when that thing goes against what they want. They never change, they just hide who they really are until the truth comes out. No one is good. No one is innocent."
She gazes at me curiously.
"And you think you're different?"
I shake my head, looking down.
"Not me. A friend of mine."
"Oh?" She leaned back in her chair, getting comfortable. "What was his name?"
I didn't want to admit to her that I actually didn't remember. I huff impatiently and hold my hands.
"How much time until we're done?"
He wasn't at dinner.

part 4 coming when i actually know what comes next

ANUBIS?? CONSISTEN???????????T??????????

part 4 hahahahah!!!!

i'm so sorry

Click! Click!
"Ugh,"
Click! Click!
"Dammit!"
Click! Click! Click!
"Fuck!"
Tired of hearing him struggle so much, I place a hand on his shoulder.
"Here, use mine." I mutter.
"Thanks, GG."
BANG!
I awaken with a start. I begin by rubbing my head, trying to shake off whatever happened in my dream last night. I didn't know who GG was, but I recognized the other voice.
I sigh, burying my face in my hands.
I could hear my father's voice bouncing in my head like a bullet.
"You wanna make it in life? You gotta fight your way to the top. Life doesn't play by the rules, and it certainly doesn't go easy on pussies like you."
I hated that man.
"If you're not willing to throw some punches, then you're better off curling into whatever corner you crawled out from and dying. You won't make it past natural selection."
Sylvia's eyes dug deep into me, but I wasn't alarmed by it.
"Was your father abusive towards everyone in the family, or just you?"
I clench my fist, unfortunately a visible reaction to her, as my hands lay on the table.
"Everyone. But he favored Kris."
"Kris, the brother, or Crys, the sister?"
I think about it.
"Both."
Sylvia inhales sharply before writing on her notepad.
"Did anyone ever find out about this, or did it remain a secret to the grave?"
I blinked, suddenly on the ground, Kristopher's shoe digging into my cheek.
I was looking at the general floor, but just outside my doorway, I saw his shoes. My eyes trail upwards to lock with his…but his face…it's blurry again. As soon as he noticed that I saw him, he hid behind the walls again, but Kristopher didn't see him.
"My friend found out by accident."
"This friend, you seem to have completely forgotten everything about him, right?"
"It's been a while. I don't think we were that close anyway."
"Jean, you told me yesterday that he was your closest friend."
"I didn't have any friends to begin with." I retaliated, starting to panic, but trying to remain calm on the outside. "He wasn't just my closest friend, he was my only friend."
Sylvia sighed, frustrated.
"This sounds like some heavy memory loss, Jean."
"Human memory isn't reliable anyway." I mutter, looking away.
"Do you think you could cooperate with me on this next exercise? I think it could help unlock what your mind is hiding from you."
I look back at her. She seemed interested, so I shrugged my shoulders.
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
She blinks slowly in response.
"I want you to close your eyes. Imagine yourself at your family's house. You just finished lunch and you planned to hang out with this friend."
I hesitate, but comply anyway.
"You hear a knock on the door. You stand up from your seat and approach the door. As you turn the knob and pull the door, you see…"
His face almost shocked me. No, it did shock me. What am I supposed to say? She doesn't know, she doesn't have to know.
"What? Who did you see?"
My eyes had already opened from being startled. I breathe unsteadily before lowering my head.
"I saw myself."
Sylvia huffed, tossing her notebook onto the table and standing up.
"That's all for today, Jean."
I saw him at dinner. I sat in front of him and glared coldly at him.
"What's wrong?" He muttered.
"Who are you, Anubis?"
He scoffed and looked away. "Fuck's sake, G, I'm tired of that que-"
"What the fuck did you just call me?"
"Oh, sorry, would you prefer GG?"
I furrow my brow. This can't be happening.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening.
"What's your real name?" I whisper, my voice escaping me.
He seemed beside himself with confusion and wonder, but, without breaking eye contact, uttered, "Olliver."
My eyes fell. My heart fell, my stomach turned. I debated turning around to hurl on the floor, but by the time I stood up, everything started spinning and all I could hear was commotion as my head hit the table and everything went black.
Click! Click!
Everything went silent. The chilling stillness of death loomed over. It felt so empty, so alone, so cold, but it quickly drowned out as the smell of flames engulfed the air. I turn to look at him. His clear fucking blue eyes, his clear fucking blond hair, his clear fucking freckles. He dropped the lighter, still lit, as he turned his back.
"You're welcome."

i already have the beginning of part 5 palnned avery u better remember it

i didn't remember it

sike yes i did

update i forgot it again

i'm just gonna write and see what happens

part 5!!1

I don't remember there being a medical area in the prison; and I'm not sure how it matched a regular hospital so well, but nevertheless, I woke up in a hospital bed, my right wrist handcuffed to the bedframe. I knew I'd see his face, but the fact that I was right in guessing he'd be there is what haunted me.
"Anubis…" I utter, my voice hoarse. He looked concerned. He looked worried, but it didn't seem like it was about me.
"You really scared me back there." He begins.
I shook my head.
"I scared myself. What are you doing here? How did they let you in?"
"They're watching us very closely. They think if they left you alone with me then you'd start being more honest."
I furrow a brow, looking around the room.
"Honest? About what?"
I could feel his eyes on me, but I looked everywhere except his.
"About yourself, Jean. Look at you. Something happened to you, clearly."
I look down at my hands. I can't believe he's helping them try to fuck me up. He continues.
"What the hell did they do to you?"
Confused, I gaze up at him.
"What?"
He stands up.
"As soon as you started disappearing during afternoon free time you've been so paranoid and weird. You've been asking me weirdly specific questions, I mean, c'mon? Asking me if I'm real?"
He huffed at me as I realize what he's implying.
"They didn't need any sort of pills to fuck you up. They diagnosed you with the Placebo Effect and you listened to them."
I clenched my fist.
"My time's up. I'll see you later."
Anubis opened the door, paused and looked at me, then stepped out.
What am I supposed to do now? I didn't have many options, considering I was handcuffed to the bed. I'm not sure how much time had passed, but it felt like an uncomfortably long amount of time. Sylvia opened the door.
"This time you can't deny what happened, Jean."
She sat down on the same chair that Anubis had sat in.
I didn't want to feed her, so I remained silent.
"That scar will speak for itself."
I lift my left hand and feel the bandage on my head. My hair was down.
"Where's my hair tie?"
Sylvia sighed, trying to calm me down.
"We've confiscated it. You'll be more limited on the items that you can have with you. It's for your safety."
I huff, giving her a dirty look. Anubis was right. They're only out to get me.
"The fuck am I gonna do with a hair tie? I've only ever used it for it's intended fucking purpose."
"Jean, if you don't calm down, we'll be forced to give you some sedatives."
"Fuck you! What the fuck are you trying to accomplish?"
A few other people ran in. They all looked like nurses.
I don't remember anything after that.
I don't even remember how they managed to calm me down.
The next morning, I woke up in my own cell.

am i pumping these out too fast? yep.
do i care? haha!
its ok this one is short because it took me 2 hours to write this much and i just wanna post

part 6 babey

Usually I was left alone by the other inmates. I managed to stay out of everyone's eye and…well, hitlist.
Today was different. As I walked in for breakfast, I felt all their eyes on me. At first I hadn't noticed, until the lunch lady gave me a strange look. My best option was to not acknowledge them and go about my day. I sit down at a table, eating my food, hunching my back over as if to hide what I was doing. He shuffles on the seat across from me.
"They're all looking at you."
"Thanks." I reply coldly, squinting my eyes at him. "And who's fault is that?"
He holds up two defensive hands, spork in one hand.
"You're the one that passed out in the middle of dinner."
I sigh, returning to my food in silence. He lowered his head to look me in the eye.
"Listen, GG, we need to have a game plan."
I pause, furrowing a brow.
"For what?"
He gazes at me with a somehow forceful expression.
"Getting out of here? That therapist lady is trying to fuck up your mental stability. That way you'll let her give you whatever pills she wants and tell you they'll work."
I shake my head, ignoring him; and that nickname.
"Oh, come on, Jean." He persists. I glare at him. "You can't ignore me forever. We're kind of stuck together."
I stood up and threw away my food. I could still leave the room.
I didn't see him at the basketball game.
I didn't see him at lunch.
To be honest, I don't remember much of the game, or lunch. As I sat in the room with Sylvia, I tried to think back to what happened in the past few hours. I suppose going through the motions kind of messes with your memory, but I don't think anything interesting really happened, and that's why I don't remember much of today at all, right?

"Can you tell me more about the person you talk to?" Sylvia breathes, her slick voice was so smooth, she probably used it to her advantage sometimes.
A small grin escapes me as I gaze at the table blankly.
"He likes a nice hot Americano and the cracking of a fire on a cool night."

i dont even know how to FEEL rn aloe

poor jean lmao. he just needs a hot chocolate and a nice long nap because SOMEONE won’t leave him alone

(seriously i need to write a little blurb where he and anubis just have a good time without any threats of death or crazy people)

that would be amazing

sorry the idea was a lot shorter in my head

TAMMYYYYYYY I LOVE YOUUUUUU MERRY ALMSOT CHRISTMAS I HAVE A JEANUBIS CHRISTMAS DRAWING IN THE WORKS AND Y'ALL ARE GON LOVE IT

iiiiiii have a christmas AU in mind and im gonna be nice and make it wholesome

but it might also make u cringe

goodness that would be lovely! you guys are so great seriously you’re all awesome ❤️

i would die 4 both u and tammy u guys r the collest
also!

that is the paragon of true beauty in this world and you should be proud!

also i would love to see the battle to get those antlers on jean’s head because it must have been one for the ages lol

counterpoint: jean is very drunk and didn't even notice when someone sneakily put them on him

but at the same time the idea of people trying to hold jean down while someone aggressively applies a pair of antlers onto his head is also VERY entertaining and VERY tempting

yes it is

I dont have part 7 finished but I did write the Intro to the Prison AU! So this happened before prison AU

I walk a bit of a distance behind him, the crushing of the leaves fall under his boots, causing my steps to be unsatisfactorily silent. He walks casually; not stiff, not relaxed- he's walking like he's alone. I hold my arms up against my chest to keep myself warm. The forest at night grows awfully cold, but I know it won't last long. I look up at Jean. He pauses his stride, dropping the body into the grave he dug only a few hours prior. He sighs heavily, picking up the tank of lighter fluid.
"Jean…"
He hesitates before pouring the fluid over the body.
"You're justified in this. You know that. If anything, you're doing this world a favor."
He lights a match and sighs heavily in response before dropping it into the grave. I hold my hands out to warm them on the fire.
"You're not a bad person, GG."
He watches the fire closely, shaking his head.
"I have to go to the cops."
"No, Jean, listen to me. You're not going to the cops. They'll sentence you to life. You will never know life outside of prison."
Jean rubs his head with his hands.
"No, I can't go to the cops. I don't know what to do."
Jean picks up the shovel, grabbing a pile of dirt and tossing it into the fire.
Hours passed until he patted the last of the dirt down. The wind started to pick up, so Jean started to head back to his car.
"I have to go to the cops. I can't live with myself if I didn't."
I turn around and called out to him.
"Jean."
He pauses, clenching a fist and looking at the ground. I waited for him to turn around and look back to where I was standing.
I pull out a gun and point it at him.
"I can't let you do that."
BANG!

Jean looks through me as he sighs heavily, turning his back on me and walking away.
I huff, lowering the gun as I watch him leave.
Not yet, I suppose.

ok NOW i have part 7

here u go, fucker mothers,

Sylvia adjusted the reading glasses that rested quietly on her face. She had a few conversations with me over the past few months, but how talkative I am varied on what mood I was in.
"Do you remember why you're in here?"
I blinked my eyes at her, narrowing them as I hold back a smirk.
"Because you have an incorrect sense of justice. I was merely executing the correct justice."
"You killed a man." She snapped, furrowing a brow at me.
"He had it coming."
"Jean!"
I sit back in the seat, realizing I was starting to stand up. I eye the guards, who had drawn their guns.
"Do you know his name?" Sylvia asked.
"Who's name?"
"The man that you killed."
I shake my head, looking away.
"He didn't have one."
"Jean, you're in prison for a crime that you confessed to, but we have no evidence for your actions. You won't give us the victim's name and you won't give us the victim's location. There hasn't even been a missing person report that correlates to your story."
Typical.
I turn my neck to stare at her.
"The only reason court decided to put you in prison is because you kept passing the lie detector test."
Sylvia squints her eyes.
"Even if you did commit the crime, why did you turn yourself in? Are you running from someone?"
I think about the answer, my eyes widening as I lock my gaze with hers.

I grip the handle of the sink as the water runs quietly. Cupping my hands, I look up at myself in the mirror before splashing cold water against my face.
For a strange moment, I got caught in my own thoughts. As I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes started to glaze over, and though I was looking in the direction of my own eyes, I didn't feel like I was really looking at myself. Like the man in the mirror had started to fade away. The person standing before me wasn't really me. And for a split second, I almost recognized the stranger in the mirror.
That's how it feels.
"Jean?"
I turn around to see the guard outside my cell staring at me.
"If you don't want dinner, I'm going to leave you."
I blink, rubbing my face and turning off the faucet before walking to the door.
"I'm coming."

I sat at a different table today. I didn't see him at first, but when I was distracted, he quickly scrambled to the seat in front of me.
"What did you do today?"
He asked me, raising a curious eyebrow.
"I…" I think back to what happened today, but I don't remember. I think I just followed the same schedule that I usually do.
"Watched the game, roamed the halls, the usual."
"Good for you. I think you should try something different." He uttered. I look down at my food.
"Like what? There's not much to do around here."
He points his spork at me, half in the middle of chewing.
"Exactly. We need to look for ways to get out of here."
"Why are you so obsessed with getting out of here? Can't you do it on your own?"
Anubis scoffs and crosses his arms, pursing his lips.
"I thought I told you. I need your help, and no one else here likes me."
"What makes you think I like you?"
He squints his eyes, grinning.
"You like me. I think you're the only person I know that actually likes me." He muttered, surprisingly confidently. I furrow a brow at him, lost in thought.
"So what are you thinking?"
He looks up from his food, eyes starting to light up.
"Well, it depends on how capable you are. How fast can you run?"

blok

YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

wholesome time!
i call htis

Babysitter AU (Part 1;)

As I exit my room, I see Jean try to smoothly stuff his phone in his pocket. As much as that's normal, he did seem weirdly more concerned than usual when I catch him on his phone doing something he didn't want me to know about.
"Hey Jean, what's u-"
"You should go to your apartment. When was the last time you were there?"
I furrow my brow, a little confused, as my eyes flicker to his phone.
"Just the other day, why?"
Jean nodded, as if deep in thought.
"Yeah, you should go check up on your roommates. Don't want them getting too crazy, right?"
I shake my head.
"They're out of town for a few days. What's up with you? What are you hiding? Who was on the phone?"
Jean's desperation seemed to grow as he inhaled.
"Get out of my house."
His demand certainly takes me by surprise, and I know I'm definitely not walking out of that door tonight, unless he pulls a gun on me, I guess.
"Jean, what the fu-"
I've never seen more fear in Jean's eyes than when the doorbell rang. I wracked my brain for what possibly could be behind that door. Jean didn't dare move, and neither did I.
"Is it a cute pizza girl or something?" I ask. Jean didn't respond. "Pizza guy?"
"Shut the fuck up and stay that way while I answer the door."
I freeze, watching him walk around the corner and down the hall. As he opens the door, I tip toe to the wall and listen from behind it.
"Jean! It's been a while, sorry you haven't been able to see Abby in so long, we've been out of town."
As I heard Jean speak, it was like hearing a completely different person.
"It's fine, I've been pretty busy too. I'm sure Prince is happy to see you, Abby."
The woman spoke again.
"Thank you so much for doing this so last minute, I know you always preferred to plan ahead."
Jean's voice held a smile in his tone.
"What can I say, I'm in a good mood today."
Am I sure that's Jean at the door? After a bit more of useless talking, the door closes and Jean rounds the corner again, but this time, a little girl at his side. Her dark hair pulled up into two little ponytails with bows, and bright blue eyes. The girl pauses upon seeing me, curiosity in her eyes.
"Who's that?" She asked Jean, as if I'm not even in the room. My eyes float to Jean's, who held murder in his expression.
"Abby," He said in the most forced happy tone I've ever heard him manage, "This is my friend, Anubis. Anubis, this is Abby."
Abby locks eyes with Prince, already distracted, as she raises her arms to go pet him. Prince, weirdly enough, was not nearly as surprised as I was, and accepted Abby happily. I watch Prince smile as Abby pets him distinctly very carefully, as if she's remembering being scolded in the past not to be rough with Prince. I turn back to Jean, who had leaned in close to me.
"I swear to God if you even think about laughing I'll wring your fucking neck." He whispered quietly, his tone returning to the voice I recognized. He stepped away to follow Abby, asking her if she had dinner yet, before she requested Jean's "famous spaghetti", as she worded it.
At first, I was concerned that the Jean I knew would disappear as he took care of this child, but weirdly enough, little bits of the cold-hearted, assassin Jean seeped through. Jean taught her how to make her own campfire, but he wasn't very patient with her. Strangely enough, she seemed to have a patience with Jean's impatience. She couldn't have been older than ten and she managed to hold a certain maturity, maybe from the days she spent under Jean's care.
I heard her clap from outside when she figured it out, and a few moments later she ran inside, screeching to a halt in the kitchen, where I sat on the computer.
"Where's the marshmallows?" She asked shyly, barely looking in my direction.
"Cabinet next to the fridge." I utter, matching the lack of eye contact as I scroll through my computer. As she waddled out with the bag of marshmallows, I looked up and furrowed my brow, realizing that, in all honesty, she kind of looked like Jean. I sigh and shake off the thought, knowing that's too big of a deal for Jean not to address, and it was probably just coincidence.
I didn't pay attention to how much time had passed, but Jean walked in from the backyard, the sky pitch black from the night, holding a sleeping Abby in his arms. I check the clock to realize a few hours had passed between the marshmallows and now. Jean's face held that of a man deep in thought as he gingerly placed her onto the couch. Jean proceeded to straighten up and glare at me.
"Alright get all your jokes out while she can't hear them."
"I thought you hated kids." I let out before I even have time to think of a joke.
"I don't. Next question." He snaps, crossing his arms. I shrug, unable to think of something else to say before there's a knock at the door. Jean's eyes follow the sound before his legs do, but strangely enough, the child doesn't wake up. This time, the woman walked in to see Abby on the couch. Jean introduced me to her, telling me her name is Morgan. She woke up her daughter and Jean helped carry her to the car. After he returned, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.
"Morgan?"
"She was friends with Crystal in High School but word slipped out that she had a thing for me and Crystal was convinced she only befriended her to get to me so they stopped talking. That's all."
"Are you sure that's all?"
Jean's glare answered the question, which was a clear indication that I shouldn't ask any further.
"You're not going to tell anyone about this." Jean snaps before retreating to his bedroom. I let out a chuckle at the implication that I have anyone to tell it to before shutting down my computer and going to my own bedroom.

fuck u

Ah! So you've read part 1. prepare for part 2!

Weeks had passed, and Jean slowly grew more comfortable with babysitting Abby while I was here. It really made me realize how often she came over; Jean managed to plan it whenever I was staying at my own apartment, but now that he doesn't care, I've noticed her probably every weekend. I suppose I didn't mind, but I have retreated to my room a few nights because of her. Tonight, though, I was out in the living room, on my computer. Jean warned me ahead of time that she was coming over. I made some snarky comment and he scoffed, going to his room to shower. An hour passed, and I heard a sudden thud come from his room. My eyes flicker upwards as he shoves his door open and stomps down the hall. Did he just have an argument with Morgan? Is Abby not coming over tonight?
"What's up with you?"
"I don't get to enjoy anything on this god-forsaken bitch of an earth."
"Wh-"
The doorbell rang. Jean nearly flinched as he stared at the door for a few seconds. I looked down at his fists, which were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His face forced a calm expression, all the tension everywhere except where Morgan will notice. He must have spaced, because Morgan rang the doorbell again and he snapped out of it. He slowly approached the door, hesitated, then opened it quickly.
"Hey, so sorr-"
"Get out of my house."
What? Did I just hear him right? Morgan had the same reaction as I hear her chuckle.
"Okay, I'm sorry, I really don't have the time for jokes right now."
There's a bit of silence before Morgan continues.
"Are you serious?"
I could almost feel Jean inhale before speaking his next words.
"I am sick and tired of you and Abby and I wish you two would just leave me the fuck alone for once."
"What's going on, Jean? This isn't funny."
"Go away!" Jean yelled, causing me to furrow my brow. I could hear Abby starting to cry. Jean yelled some other profanities to convince Morgan to leave before slamming the door.
Well, that was the most Un-Jean thing I've ever seen Jean do.
"Do you want to tell me what just happened?" I inquire.
"No."
"Why'd you yell at Mo-"
"I said no."
I sigh and put down my laptop, standing up.
"Do you know who threatened you?"
Jean's clenched fists started to shake.
"They covered themselves up too well."
I shake my head as I try my best to reassure him. "We can still track them down. You know I can."
Jean, hunched over, buries his face in his hands.
"I can't let them hurt Abby, they said they'd kill her.

"tHeY saId thEyD KilL HeR jean they always sayt taht relax" sayd anubis

thanjsk ANYWAY PART 3 TIME (i'm writing part 4 now)

Sometimes I'd forget that Jean was normal. I don't mean that in a bad way, but he really hid his emotions well. As we worked to track down the people that threatened Jean and the girls, Jean was cold-faced the entire time. Almost as if the breakdown that I saw him experience the first night had never happened. I had maybe seen Jean cry at most twice in our lifetime, and one was from a seemingly fatal wound; the other time, he was drunk, and probably high too.
But this, this was sober Jean. That night, he was preparing to see Abby, so he had cleaned up enough to last one night. Jean was in the right state of mind-at least, for Jean, he was.
He buried his face in his hands, allowing a few sobbing explanations of the situation to slip out. When he removed his hands, I saw the most emotion on Jean I had ever seen. He looked almost helpless; eyebrows turned upwards, eyes puffy from the tears, and the glisten of sweat starting to form on his forehead. He wiped his face with his sleeve as he shook his head.
"Get my computer."
We'd worked for a few days. Maybe a week now, to try and find these people, until the worst thing happened. I was taking a break for lunch, something I hadn't seen Jean do in a day or two, when I get a notification from my phone. I open the message, which contains a file. I almost don't want to open the file, knowing it could be a virus, but after reading the file name, I knew it was harmless. I tap the file, my eyes widening in horror as it loaded. I nearly choked on my food.
"What's up?" Jean muttered, not looking away from his computer. I stand up from my seat, walking over to Jean and placing the phone in front of his face.
"Try not to explode," I begin, watching Jean examine the phone.
The file was a photo of Abby at some public park, almost taken from far away, with Morgan sitting next to her. A message followed, reading, "You wouldn't want them to die thinking you hate them, would you?"
I could see Jean starting to shake as he drops the phone.
"They're lying."
"Jean, I wouldn't risk tha-"
Something pops up on Jean's computer. It's a video, but the screen starts out black. As Jean plays the video, it starts out with a man wearing sunglasses driving a car. Unfortunately, Morgan and Abby get into the backseat.
"Where you headed, ma'am?"
As the video continues, I get another message. It reads: "Footage is Live. The car will break down in the middle of nowhere and a van will drive by, apprehending the girls." As I show Jean the message, he scrambles up to his feet.
"I know where that is. If we hurry we can make it."
"What if they're lying?"
Jean didn't answer as he grabbed his black jacket and scrambled to put it on. He turned to me, keys in hand.
"You coming or not?" He said.
It was at that moment that I realized that Jean's hair was down. Had it been like that the whole time we'd had the conversation? His scruff was much thicker, too; at this point it qualified as a full beard. Now wasn't the time to say something about it, so I merely nodded and followed him out the door.
The drive was intense; not only was Jean speeding, but he was speeding faster than he usually speeds. As much as I wanted to destroy and ditch Jean's computer and my phone, Jean wanted constant updates on how Morgan and Abby were doing.
After several minutes of me repeating that they were just sitting in the car, the video cuts out.
"What? What happened?" Jean tries to look at the screen, but he's too focused on the road.
"He cut off the video, Jean I need to throw away our phones and computers."
"Fuck that, call the number that sent the feed to you."
"It's a blocked number."
"You can figure it out, can't you?"
"If it was a blocked number, chances are he's already thrown the phone away. They know who they're dealing with."
"Christ, Anubis, can't you do anything ri-"
Jean pauses, slamming on the brakes.
I look forward in shock, eyes falling on a taxi stopped by the side of the road. I hear the sound of Jean's car door open.
"JEAN! It's a tra-"
SLAM!
What the fuck is wrong with him? Jean isn't stupid enough to walk straight into a trap, but I guess he's gotten this far?
I open my door and step out, yelling at Jean.
"Get back here, Jean! They're not in there, that car is going to fucking explode and whoever is after you will win."
He didn't even acknowledge me. Frustrated, I pull out my gun, turn off the safety, pull back the slide and aim it at the taxi, unloading the entire magazine into the taxi, shattering glass everywhere.
Thankfully, that stopped Jean.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
We both yelled at each other, causing the realization to slowly settle in Jean's eyes. He looks at the taxi, now that the windows are broken, he could see inside and see that it was empty.
"Get back in the damn car and let's go buy new computers." I snap at him as I snap our phones and computers in half and throw them to the side of the road.
As Jean takes a few steps closer to me, the taxi finally blows up, sending debris everywhere, and hurling Jean toward the car.