@icecubes
iiiiiii have a christmas AU in mind and im gonna be nice and make it wholesome
but it might also make u cringe
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 ❤️
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
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.
OH FUCK]
LMFAO ok that's all i had prepped
I FUCKING LVOE ITT
my reaction reading the first part:
my reaction reading the second and third parts:
:D!!!!!!!!! Love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu
I love this?
I love u:')
honestly this might be one of my favorite things you’ve written yet
:'O well now I HAVE to finish part 4
HIIIII TAMMYYYYYY I LOVE UUUUUU
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