#thexboyxking

[allroundlostcause]

great heights

@thexboyxking

It was getting worse every day. The guilt. Watching Sam quietly excuse himself at the end of the working day to go sit on the roof and wait for… well, not Ric, but for the Hood to show up. Occasionally, Alaric tried to talk him out of it, just with a plea to go eat somewhere a little farther away from the office where he might just head home afterward.

Alaric had, one night, taken a quiet flight up there. Sam didn’t seem to be doing much, though Alaric never got close enough to be seen; just looked like he was sitting and thinking and waiting.

And tonight was apparently not going to be any different. Except that Sam looked a little more tired, and a little more disappointed, and Alaric was starting to feel like the worst friend in the world.

The clincher was the very hard, very meaningful, very deadpan stare Castiel gave him as he collected his own things to head home — well, to head home to eat a couple of family size pizzas and then start patrolling the streets.

Alright, Cas. You win.

Alaric left his laptop in his poky little office in the research section and headed downstairs, down the street, to the only good coffee place that was open at night. He ordered himself a black coffee and for Sam, his favorite treat order. On a whim, he took the last two chocolate doughnuts, as well, knowing that there was every chance Sam would decline, but wanting to make the gesture anyway.

And then he returned to the office and made his way to the roof.

“Hey,” he said to Sam, as his friend turned to look at him with a brief flash of hope on his face. “It’s a nice night, thought I might join you for a while.”

He sat beside Sam on one of the benches that had been dragged up here who-knew-how long ago by god-knows-who, and passed him the coffee, in a tall paper cup.

“Chocolate doughnut?”

[theliteralangel]

all grown up

@thexboyxking

When Castiel was younger, he’d always thought that there would be some point in his future where he suddenly became a fully functional adult who didn’t hate getting out of bed in the morning. Who looked at a healthy breakfast and thought ‘this will help get me through the day feeling good! I’ll have a cup of green tea, as well’. Who thought that doing some cleaning on A Wednesday night would mean that there would be less to do on the weekend.

Who didn’t hit the snooze button eight times a morning.

But this had not eventuated.

He was blurry and bleary and hiding under the blanket, hair a mess. It was just so comfy. He needed three cups of coffee before he could even contemplate getting ready to drag himself to work, but the thought of getting to the kitchen to make the coffee was beyond awful.

Except that Sam was in there, getting his own far classier start to the day. And Sam was wearing a suit. A suit that made Castiel want to touch him. Real live lawyer.

He dragged himself out of bed by the teeth and wandered into the kitchen to start his day right (by examining Sam’s bottom in that very nice suit; it was always a cheering sight), and leaned against Sam’s back in the kitchen.

“You smell good,” he said, before rubbing his eyes and grabbing a coffee cup.

[amadnessofmuses]

Burning Down The Highway Skyline

@thexboyxking

Night hadn’t taken too long for him. He had been mostly focused on some of his games from his phones. He had managed to rearrange all the islands on his dragon game the way he liked them. He’d even managed to free two more of the goats stuck in the cages and he had drawn a bunch of pictures of Sam. A few of lucky and a couple of them both together when the snake had gone off exploring in the dark and found her way to Sam’s hair. He had even found a way to take fast paintings on the phone they had got today and took a bunch of those of Sam cause he good. They worked so much faster than he did and were so good. Dropping onto the bed onto his stomach again he moved to pull out his phone again having just taken it from the charter so he could take another fast painting of Sam as he said his name, wanting to see him wake up. He thought he would be pretty while he did. He was pretty awake and asleep so this couldn’t be any different. “Hey Sam, the suns up,” he said smiling behind the phone as he watched him through the screen waiting for his eyes to light up.

[thereaintnoothermenlikeme]

plotting plots | sam and dean

@thexboyxking

Dean hoped the walls here were thick. He needed a conversation with his brother, without Fake Dad listening in. He still wasn’t even sure if it was good or bad, the guy knowing something about… well, something, but he couldn’t pretend he was thrilled he knew that much. Dean wasn’t going to admit that he didn’t recognize the wards around the house, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t noticing them, now he knew.

Sam led him towards his bedroom, but Dean felt like nosing. The first door he opened led to another bedroom with a single bed — he knew Ric had told Sonny he wanted Dean to live with them, and he supposed this must be his room. Already set up. Not bad, it would do. Bigger than he’d thought. Not sharing with three other kids. Still wasn’t thrilled. Next up was Alaric’s bedroom, with the door slightly ajar. The first thing Dean noticed was a huge pile of books beside the bed. Second thing he noticed was a dirty great gun safe.

He put up a hand to tell Sam to keep watch, and tried the fourth door, but it was locked. Damn, he didn’t have his picks with him — probably get busted anyway, with the dude downstairs. Another time.

He followed Sam to his room. It looked lived-in, homy.

“Alright, listen,” he said to Sam, as he closed the door. “We’ve gotta be smart about this. I need to know what’s been going on, and then we need a plan. What exactly happened?”

[thatearpgirl-blog]

all good things

@luciferxbait

The gym in the bunker was pretty good. Of course, that was a comparison was a pile of mats in the back of the police station in Purgatory, so… it was actually more than pretty good, if Wynonna thought about it. She coughed as she opened an old cupboard full of boxing gear, pads and gloves, completely unnecessary knee and elbow pads (made so long ago that they were heavy, by modern standards).

“You know I’m a little superpowered,” she said, turning to Sam. “It’s not just the killer aim. I think I could give Buffy a run for her money. But I don’t hit girls, unless I’ve been seriously provoked.”

She tossed him a pair of pads and reached for a roll of strapping tape, because, not dumb. By the time she had the gloves on, she was well-strapped and powdered, ready to start.

“I’m not even gonna think about the generations of nerd who’ve used these gloves before me. Now, you want me to hold back just a little?” she teased.

[allroundlostcause]

not a damsel in distress

Alaric rarely paid attention to social media. He had accounts, sure, just because it had always raised eyebrows when someone heard him say he didn’t, early — it raised curiosity, made people wondering what he was hiding. Not scrutiny he could afford, when he was actually hiding something. So he made accounts, and diligently, every few weeks, posted a link to an article, or a poorly executed photograph (the poor execution wasn’t deliberate, he was just a terrible photographer) or made an asinine comment about The Game. It was enough.

Somehow, though, when something big happened, it always seemed to ruffle some sixth sense, and get sim checking those accounts. So but the time he got onto twitter, half an hour had passed since the late-night love song request show had been the mouthpiece for an announcement that Sam Winchester had been abducted and wouldn’t be let go until his abductor knew the identity of The Hood.

Alaric froze.

This was exactly what he’d been worried about.

He pulled a burner phone out of a drawer in his bedroom. He launched the voice modifying software and dialed the number for the police department.

“Put me through to Jody Mills,” he said, when the call was answered.

“She’s not here. Do you need to make a statement?”

“Right, one of the local journalists is abducted, the Hood gets called out, and she’s home baking muffins? This is the Hood. Put me through or we’ll have a problem.”

It didn’t take long after that.

“I wondered if you might call,” Captain Mills said. “What do you need?”

“Last known location of his cell phone,” Alaric answered. “And anything else you’ve got.”

“Phone was found outside the newspaper office. In an alley. It’s not even destroyed. Must have been knocked out of his hand or something. As for the rest, we know the phone call came from a VOIP service that’s located in the city.”

Alaric swore. “Fergus Crowley. He’s slimier that seaweed.”

“In a private jet on his way to Brazil.”

“Constance Clootie?”

“Not even on our radar, but I’ll find out.”

Alaric swore again. “I need a list of larger empty buildings, anything under construction. Can you get your guys to check out any vehicle that blew through a red light or two around dark, and tell me which direction they’re going in?”

“Well, yes. We might not have masks, but we’re perfectly competent cops,” Jody said, coolly.

He deserved that.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m the one who put him in this position. It was stupid.”

Jody was silent for a moment. “Well, you’d better get him out of it then,” she said, kindly. “Call if there’s anything else you need. And be careful. There are a lot of cops on the road right now.”

Time was running out if he didn’t want the call traced. “I’ll call you back,” he said, and ended the call, and turned off the phone. He’d use it one more time and then dismantle it.

“I’m coming, Sam,” he said, as he finished changing into darker clothes and put his mask on. Within a minute, he was out the window, and heading for the first possible location, the Diamond.

[allroundlostcause]

the interview

It had been reckless and self-indulgent, encouraging Sam to try to make contact with Alaric’s alter-ego. So self-indulgent that Alaric could almost feel his disappointed father’s heavy, dosappointed gaze. Plus, beyond Sam’s praise in their own nespaper, it had been a tough week; envoronmental activists blaming him for destroying the lake instead of sending the missile into space (fortunatey, others disagreed, citing space junk as the next great envoronmental catastrophe), and other making the same stupid intenret noises about letting the authorities handle things like this (never mind the chief of police would have been dead if the missile had landed).

He’d made a huge deal of the fact he was leaving, probably excessive. Told Sam he was heading to the gym and then grocery shopping, as if it mattered. At least Sam knew his phone would be switched off for a couple of hours.

And then he’d changed on the roof to something simpler and black, added his hood and the truly stupid new mask that he was going to have to replace asap.

This was the tricky part. Getting Sam’s attention so he’d actually follow him, and not… well, call security, probably.

He stalked around for a while, trying to find a good option. And quietly freaking out like an idiot, because he could have sworn Cas saw him, or at least… turned, something, and that guy had to be quiet as a fucking cat, because Alaric was sure he’d been gone, or he wouldn’t have started this ridiculous pantomime. The whole point of waiting this lae was because the building was mostly empty, and the main floors were completely empty.

This was stupid.

Alaric sat on the fire escape for another second, and then reached out, knocking the blinds from the runners. They landed with a loud crack. Now he just had to wait until Sam came out and caught a glimpse, and he could take off up the fire escape a level or two.

@thexboyxking

[allroundlostcause]

Au Idea - Ric is Sam’s imaginary friend growing up. {thexboyxking}

100 words – @thexboyxking

Alaric has never really fit in among the Zanna; they are so bright and colourful, and he’s just a boy with grass stains on his knees. Kids seek out the unicorns, and the fairies, and the clowns with pockets full of candy, but that’s just creepy. So the first time Sam Winchester turns his head and sees Alaric, it’s like Christmas and the first day of spring rolled into one. He looks around the hotel room, and grins shyly at Sam, offering his hand.

“You wanna play?” he asks. “I know a place with heaps of dogs. This place sucks.”