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Ah-ha! I thought of a prompt for fluff week. Cuddling + Washington, platonic or romantic, with whoever you like :D
Title: Counting StarsCharacters: Wash, CabooseRelationships: Gen, platonic Caboose and Wash, mentioned past platonic Church and CabooseRating: G
@rvbficwars
Summary: Someone has a nightmare. Sharing a bed with a friend can help a lot.
Wash stared at the ceiling.
It didnât matter where he was, sleep was never going to be easy ever again. Less nightmares now, but it was hard to turn his brain off.
His door creaked open.
Wash tensed. A large figure entered. Washâs fingers slipped under his pillow and touched the knife, but didnât pull it. He recognized the muffled sobs.
He waited. Suddenly the covers were being pulled up.
âCaboose?â he whispered.
The quiet sniffles stifled. Caboose stiffened.
âOh no,â He said quietly. He jerked back, trying to untangle himself from Washâs blankets and ended up falling on the floor.
âOof--Iâm okay.ââCaboose?â Wash flicked on his bedside lamp. Caboose looked up at him miserably.
âI made a mistake,â Caboose said.
Wash frowned. He had no idea what any of this was about, and then put some of it together.
âYou forgot it was me in here?â Wash asked gently.
Caboose nodded, ashamed.
âItâs okay. Honest mistake,â Wash placated. âDid...uh...you sleep with Church a lot?â
âWhen I have nightmares,â Caboose said, not really moving from his spot on the floor now. âHe pretended not to notice and be asleep, but I knew he wasnât because he would snore when he was asleep. He would complain in the morning, but that was⌠that was okay.â
Wash sighed. He lifted the covers. âAlright.â
Caboose looked up, â--Really?â
Wash nodded tiredly. Caboose quickly nestled under the covers, Wash clicked off the light again.
âYou had a bad dream?â Wash asked. Caboose took up most of the narrow bed, but he arranged himself comfortably curled up. Cabooseâs head pressed against his shoulder.
He remembered when he was a kid, crawling into Mamaâs bed after bad dreams, or his sisterâs if she was at work. It always felt safer that way. Wash wasnât about to deny Caboose a feeling of safety.
âYeah,â Caboose agreed. âIt was bad. I did not like it.â
âDo you need to talk about it?â Wash pressed gently.
âNo,â Caboose answered. âThis is good. I feel better,â He snuggled closer. âYou really donât mind, Agent Washington?â
âNo, I donât mind,â Wash reassured.
Caboose shifted. Tossed and turned.
âHaving trouble sleeping?â
âIâm sorry. Iâm keeping you up,â Caboose shifted about to get out of the bed.
âNo, you arenât.â He wrapped his hand around Cabooseâs wrist. âItâs okay, you can stay.â
Caboose rolled back closer cuddling against him.
âThank you Agent Washington.â
He kept fidgeting though.
Wash thought back to when he was a kid. Caboose wasnât a kid but⌠maybe he missed out on this sort of thing? Or maybe he just needed that sort of comfort right now.
Very quietly Wash started singing. It was an ancient pop song slowed down to sound like a lullabye. Thatâs what Mama used to do.
Caboose settled, his arm flung over Washâs chest. After a few refrains he started singing too, soft and slow like Wash until he started missing words, and then he started breathing deep and even.
Wash went back to staring up at the ceiling.
He wondered if Mama felt safer too when he would sleep in her bed...
Prompt! Gerry is the one that slapped the book out of bby!Jon's hands
I know you donât want Gerry as spider food, so letâs get this going.
Characters: Gerard, JonAO3: LinkPairing: None, Gerard & JonWarnings: Web typicalSummary: Gerard might claim heâs not the type to take care of strays butâŚ
Wasnât a whole lot in Bournemouth, surprising absolutely no one. Lots of beaches. Gerard lit a cigarette. It was nice to catch a moment alone. His mother was meeting an âold friend.â She invited him along of course, but oops. They got seperated.
Not entirely by accident. Obviously.
He turned up the volume of his headphones and leaned back on the park bench. There wasnât really anyone around to tell him off for smoking. Just a small boy engrossed in a book on the bench opposite and an older teen subtly graffiting a wall near the play area.
Gerard rolled his eyes at that. Really didnât have anything better to do. Not that he cared about mundane laws and rules, but the teen was drawing dicks, not raging against anything. What a waste of energyâŚ
His eyes skimmed back to the boy.
He wasnât sure what exactly it was. Maybe the stiffness. Maybe the fear just visible in the eyes, maybe he was just used to seeing people in the lull of a Leitner.
âShiiiiit.â He dropped his cigarette and bolted to the other side of the park. The boy hesitantly started raising his hand as if to knock on a door. Gerard used the only thing he had, his tape player which he slammed at the book in the boyâs hands making it fall to the ground. The tape player went with it, there was an awful crunch as it hit. Fuck. He had saved for that.
He grabbed at the boyâs shoulder before he could try to retrieve the book.
âOi,â he pulled his useless headphones down.
âThatâs my book,â the boyâs voice was stilted. Fuck, the Web. Gerard got a firmer grip and pulled. The boy was still trying to reach at it.
âWhere the hell does a little kid get a Leitner??â He asked no one. The commotion drew the attention of the older teen who headed towards them. Christ. He tried to get to his lighter without letting go of the kid, but for a beansprout he was awfully determined. His hand was still in a fist outstretched trying desperately to touch the book again.
âYou do not want the spiders to get you, snap out of it.â
âHey, what are you doing?â The teen asked. He seemed unsure. There was unpleasant recognition on his face towards the small boy, but he didnât know where Gerard fit in. He scanned them and then slowly down at the book on the ground. He looked amused. A nasty sort of smile.
âLittle Einstein reading kiddie books?â He was obviously referring to Beansprout. He leaned down towards the Leitner.
âDonât touch it!â Gerard warned. Â The older teen didnât hesitate. He scooped it up. His face went blank. He opened the book to the beginning.
âDamn it!â
Beanpole seemed to come out of it. He stopped struggling. Gerard let him go.
âThatâs mine!â he protested still. The bully easily swatted him away and started walking.
âWhatâs happening?â Beansprout finally looked up at him. The kid was small, all angles. âHeâs taking my book!â He added, a bit demanding as if he expected Gerard to do something about that fact.
âYou donât want that book,â Gerard told him firmly knowing it wouldnât be much help. Even released the web still had itâs sticky threads in the boy. What  started needed to finish. The boy looked between him and the Bully and started running after the Bully.
Gerard sighed. The kid was easy enough, but a struggle with the bigger guy wouldnât go easy. It was obviously a strong compulsion and if he got tangledâŚ
His mother would say to leave it and not worry about strays. If they were weak enough to get trapped then so be it⌠but then, his mother would also want him to watch, see how it worked. Get the book if possible.
He sighed again. He had just wanted a smoke and alone time.
He followed after Beanpole as he followed after the Bully. The Bully was completely unaware that he was being followed nose stuck in the childrenâs book.
Gerard felt a bit queasy not for the first time wondering if the Books created themselves, or if some sick fuck had actually made a childrenâs storybook a nightmare.
The boy couldnât be more than ten, but he seemed confident walking the streets by himself, even without the compulsion. He looked back at Gerard and hesitantly slowed down. His eyes looked clear now.
âYou should go home,â Gerard told him.
ââŚYes⌠butâŚâ Beansprout wavered unsure of himself for a moment. âIâŚitâs pulling me⌠but I alsoâŚI want to know whatâs happening.â
Gerard felt a shiver down his spine, the feeling of a hundred eyes on him all at once before the feeling faded.
âThat will not make you feel better,â Gerard warned. âItâll make it worse.â
The kid stubbornly shook his head. âI know⌠but⌠not knowing is worse.â
If the child was very lucky this would be his only encounter with the real world. The world of shadows and fear and monsters.
Those large dark eyes told a different story though. God, he sort of reminded him of his mother. A bit more likableâwell⌠only because he didnât know better.
âWhatâs your name?â
âJon. Whatâs yours?â
âGerard.â
They walked silently and eventually came to a suburban street. It could be anywhere in any town. He put a hand on Jonâs shoulder and pulled him to a stop.
âYou should close your eyes.â He told him.
The Bully placed the book on the door and raised his fist.
Jon didnât.
They both watched, unblinking as long hairy limbs snatched the Bully and yanked him into the house. The door slammed.
Jon gave a little cry of shock, shaking violently any calm he had had, gone. He looked like he wanted to bolt, but didnât want to leave the safety of Gerardâs side.
âMr. Spider,â He whispered, terrified. âThat canât be real.â
Gerard stared at the house. Through the window he saw a normal couple chatting. He doubted the door lead to the Spiderâs lair anymore. The book was gone, at least for now.
He looked down, realizing Jon was clinging to his hand.
âWhat was that?â the kid demanded.
He should be kind. Tell him it was some sort of horrible joke, or a figment of his imagination, or that he was drugged or something, but he felt certain that the boy wouldnât accept any kind lie heâd come up with.
âA monster,â He told him simply. ââŚsorry.â
The boyâs grip tightened, although he seemed to be trying to calm himself down. Trying to act braver than he was.
âMonsterâs donât exist,â The boy lied, knowing it wasnât true but saying it anyway.
âIf that comforts you then, sure,â Gerard allowed. He didnât pull his hand away, although he sort of wanted it back. He wasnât a babysitter.
But⌠well⌠the amount of times he wished someone would hold his hand after seeing some of the things his mother introduced him toâŚ
Well⌠there was no harm in it.
He gently tugged and Jon allowed himself to be lead away from the little house.
âAre⌠are there other books like that?â Jon asked after a while. He had let go, but was still trailing after Gerard. Gerard took out a cigarette and took a drag.
âYeah.â
âI like books.â Jon sounded betrayed.
âThe bad ones are labeled. The Library of Jurgen Leitner. Theyâre rare. If you ever see that label you drop it and run the other direction.â No need to tell him about the objects or the entities. Let him think itâs just haunted books.
âYouâve seen them before. Thatâs how you knew to save me.â
âYeah.â
âWhy didnât you âŚâ Jon trailed off.
âYouâre tiny. He wasnât. There was nothing I could have done⌠either of us could have done.â Gerard added noticing the pensive look on the ten-year-oldâs face.
âHeâs mean⌠he doesnât like how smart I am,â Jon said, almost to himself. Gerard snorted quietly. Not that messing with a kid half his size was right or anything, but Jon probably had more to blame than his smarts. His questioning alone was sort of annoyingâwell⌠Gerard didnât really mind it. It was sort of nice. Usually people freak out more. Jon seemed to internalize it. Maybe he felt safe with Gerard and would break down when he was finally safe and sound at home.
But⌠yeah. Nice to talk about it with someone else just as freaked out as he felt deep down inside. With someone who knew it would be awful, but couldnât look away either.
âHe ⌠I thought unkind things about him⌠I wished heâd get hurt,â Jon was sounding more upset. âI didnât mean anything like that.â
Gerard stopped and crouched down to be level with Jon. âHey. No bad wishes come
true. Iâve seen lots of shit and I can tell you that much. Wishing assholes ill doesnât make you bad. Just means theyâre assholes. I warned him, he didnât listen. Thatâs what happened.â
âBut Iââ
âYou got caught in a trap you werenât supposed to escape from. Blame Jurgen Leitner.â
He wouldnât take it to heart. The guilt was seeping in. It was worth trying. He stood. Jon forcefully took his hand again without meeting his eyes.
âWhere am I dropping you off? Back at the park?â
âI want to know more.â
âYou really, really donât.â
âI do,â Jon argued. âI want to know what you know.
âDo you really?â
Jon nodded.
âWhy?â
ââŚI know it will be bad⌠the knowing,â Jon said slowly. âItâll probably make me even more scaredâŚI⌠but⌠not knowing is worse! It just is. Please tell me!â
God, this kid was Monster bait. Beholding more specifically, although the Web might seek him out later. He might have broken the web, but the pieces were still stuck to him.
It wasnât really fair. There should be safety. Somewhere there should be safety. Someone that knows something. Some good entity that protects against the bad ones.
But there wasnât. It was just a cold dark scary world. Gerard had never met anyone that wanted to help. His mother wanted to learn, wanted power, and maybe that was sort of a protection, but⌠well⌠Gerard wasnât naive. He couldnât afford to be. Everyone in this life wanted power.
Maybe he had to be the one that wanted to help. No one else was doing it.
They arrived at the park. Jon was still clinging on to his hand, about to protest.
âI donât live around here.â Gerard told him. âI live in Morden.â
âI could bus there.â
Gerard gave him a pained look. âYouâre ten.â What a pain in the ass. âIâm going to give you my address. If you ever visit I will absolutely not let you in, but you can write me.â
âLike penpals?â
He sighed heavily. âYes. Like penpals. But only if you promise not to visit. If you do Iâll stop telling you things.â
âBut you will.â
âYes, if you promise not to come.â
Jon hesitated. âOkay.â He awkwardly shook the hand he was already holding, let go, and stepped back. âThank you Gerard.â
âGerry,â Gerard said awkwardly. âCall me Gerry.â
Jon gave a tiny smile at that. âOkay, Gerry.â
It was weird. This was weird. The kid was five or six years younger than him, but⌠well he never had a penpal before. They werenât friends. This was more of an⌠apprenticeship? Fuck this was a terrible idea. Jon looked less shaky though so that was something.
âYou alright to get home?â
Jon nodded. âI know the way⌠will⌠will the spider come back?â
âNo,â Gerard lied, forcing himself to sound certain. He had no idea. He just knew Jon was like himâŚ
And frankly being him sucked.
He wrote down the address carefully and handed it over. Jon looked at it and then carefully folded it placing it in his pocket.
â⌠Thank you, GerryâŚâ Jon said awkwardly. âI⌠thank you for⌠for saving me.â
Gerard ruffled his hair. Jon grimace and corrected it. Gerard laughed.
Since I'm already babbling about it at you on discord. Jon/Elias reincarnation au
Characters: Jonah Magnus, Elias Bouchard, Jonathan Fanshaw, Jonathan Sims
Pairings: Jonah/Jonathan Fanshaw, Jonah!Elias/Jon
Rating: T+
Warnings: Web stuff mentioned, Jonah/Elias have creepy thoughts, threatened outing, controlling thoughts, Jon is Ace but Jonah doesnât care about that (or Jonâs feelings in general). Mostly Jonah having creepy intentions.Â
Summary: Elias recognized his eyes right away, and then he recognized his voice.Â
-
Jonathan had been slow in seducing, but well worth it. He was a fascinating man. Curious and clever. Unflinching to the nastiness of the world, ever indignant. A grumpy angel on Jonahâs shoulder.
Albrecht had been a step too far too quickly. Jonathan was a long an aching regret. He would have been perfect. His perfect Archivist.
But it had been far too early in his own awakening to guide his Jonathan. After Albrechtâs death Jonathan made it clear where he stood on the matter. Where he placed blame. It was amazing how Jonathan managed to be so observant, but always managed to miss the connecting dots. Albrecht would have been dead anyway, the books were a means to an end and there were other powers at work that needed containment. Milbank had been important and Jonathan himself could have gained so much if he had only stopped refusing Jonahâs letters, and company, and bed.
Jonah had existed too long to have these sort of ⌠human regrets, and yet with the passing years and the passing Archivists he always thought of Jonathan Fanshaw. A useless comparison. Jonathan had never been his in all the ways he wanted him. He had never been an Archivist or scion of the Beholding, despite his own best efforts.
Near the end he had begged and made threats. He had been so close to uncovering the ritual that would bring his Master into the world and he needed the right person to stand at his side. Nothing worked. Even when he threatened to expose them both and the letters he had kept between them. He had kept everything that Jonathan ever wrote to him. Jonathan always spoke plainly. It was clear what the letters meant. It would destroy his practice, and his life and reputation. He still refused him.
But the Eye isnât the only one that watches. The Spiders got Jonathan, and although time and alliances forced working with them he never forgot what they took. Never forgot Jonathanâs delicate broken movements in their threads.
Jonah Magnus would never know another man like him. Not for two hundred years.
Time and priorities move differently when you continue on and on. Different bodies had different challenges and desires. Despite his start, Elias Bouchard suited him. Opened to this world of fear and monsters Elias was alive for the first time in his squandered life. They melded well. Their memories complimented. Elias came to love Jonathan as Jonah had.
Meeting Jonathan Sims was a shock straight into Jonah who had never forget those eyes even two-hundred years later. Dark eyes, deep, intelligent, and beautiful. That took in everything in the room.
And his voice.
A different accent, but the same rich voice that had huffed at him when he was frustrated. That would make that soft rare chuckle at a jest. Jonathan had never laughed much, but he had a wry humour. It was Jonathanâs voice, and Jonathanâs eyes, even Jonathanâs temperment.
It was Elias that stopped him from plunging into the young manâs head and learning everything about him.
He skimmed the surface thoughts. The usual things. Mostly nervousness about the job interview. JonathanâJon⌠he keenly wanted it. It was the next logical step in his life. Elias pushed a little more. Jonathan unfurled before them answering every question his potential employer could have asked without even knowing it. Among the nerves was another set. Being watch. The Eye already had its sights on him. It pleased Elias to no end. Jonah kept digging though.
A door. Someone grabbed by spiderâs legsâ
He let Jonathan finish and hired him on the spot as a researcher.
He went home. Elias felt foolish for it thinking he was being influenced by memories of a dead man, Jonah knew though.
When he closed his eyes he dreamed of Jonathan made to dance by silk threads, but it wasnât Doctor Fanshaw.
It built inside of him, that finally he had found him again. In the world he had come to know reincarnation didnât seem so unbelievable. He wouldnât doubt a trap either, the Web getting creative and breaking their alliance.
It didnât matter. Elias came to cherish Jon, and Jonah already did.
He had found his Archivist, and nothing would keep him from him this time.
Gertrudeâs betrayal honestly couldnât have come at a better time. She had been so useful stopping the others from rising it was hard to justify making room for another, but then she wanted to burn the archives.
There was a certain smugness he felt. Having Jonathan after all the running. Innocent and unaware, eager even for the job he offered. For the life he was laying out for him. Jon stepped into it so easily he wanted to laugh. He wanted to pull the younger man to him and tell him everything. He wanted him back in his bed with Fashawâs indignance and Jonâs innocence learning every detail all over again.
It was a shame Jon wouldnât be amenable to that.
Not without without a struggle.
But Jonah wasnât going to let go this time.
He would hold him again and Jon would stand at his side for the end of the world as they would make it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Well since you're asking for prompts, how about soft washlix?
âLucky for me you always make yourself easy to find.â Felix popped beside him under his bright yellow umbrella taking him by the arm. Wash lifted it a bit higher so they were both shielded from the heavy rain.âLucky for you I always remember my umbrella.â
---
Send me a prompt and Iâll write you three sentences.Â
For the 3 sentence story thing, how about, wait for it, RWBY au!! Possibly with kitty cat faunus Wash >v> but y'know I'll leave that up to you.
The landing strategy for a cat faunus you would think, would be, just land on your feet.Carolina watched from the branch of one of the large trees as the faunus screamed, falling head first towards the ground.A slow frown crept on her face as she took out her grappling hook about to swing to his rescue, maybe she could do better for a partner, but she wasnât about to let him crack his head open.
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send me character and a word/item/au/setting/etc and Iâll write three sentences.