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bindi-the-skunk · 3 years

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Son of Frankenstein chapter 2

Lost and Found

Thankfully, Doctor Jekyll had managed to pass out near his sofa and so avoided getting an ugly head injury, though the way his neck bent in the fall when the back of his skull hit the cushions would most likely cause him some discomfort when he woke up.

Frankenstein chuckled and mumbled something under her breath, but was willing to help Lavender get him properly onto the sofa and not just leave him in a scarecrow-like slump on the floor.

Not that the younger woman needed much help, with how skinny the man was, he proved about as hard to move as one of Jaspers pets, but the assistance was appreciated nonetheless and allowed her to not jostle the other too much.

"So, my dear, what caused him to tip like stunned bovine?" Frankenstein smirked, a bit tired from her march to the room, but the funny sight that greeted her more than made up for it.

"Well.." Lavender smiled nervously, as she had not expected Frankenstein to find out about all of this so fast she had wanted doctor Jekyll to tell his honorary auntie himself (how humorous it was for him to call her that earlier and for it to be actually true in a way!) but since he was currently indisposed-

"Is that my photo!?" Victoria suddenly went red from embarrassment or rage, perhaps a mix of both, and went to snatch the picture from the extremofaunic zoologist who just managed to keep it from the older woman's grasp "Did he steal it, thinking he could blackmail me into doing his foolish circus act!?"

"No! He didn't steal anything from you!" Lavender quickly said this was not going how it was supposed to at all, she needed to calm her down before the whole room got trashed! "I took it because I was just curious, that's all, he had nothing to do with my actions, but-"

"But what?!" Victoria nearly screeched, that picture was her personal property! No one had the right to look at it! No one! Not even Creature had seen it!

"I believe your Henry Clerval and Doctor Jekyll are related... they look almost exactly alike! Did Clerval get married before he died? The Doctor said he was adopted so it is not out of the question that-" Lavender started to say as fast as she could get out, only to be cut off by Frankenstein's laughter which was so uproarious she was bent over from the force of the bellows.

"Those two!? Related?! My dear Lavender, I am under the impression you have been inhaling some rather potent fumes from someone's laboratory to think such a thing!" Victoria cackled and was forced to sit in a nearby chair to keep from falling onto her rear.

Lavender went red herself at being laughed at by her idol but, this just strengthened her resolve to get to the bottom of this whole thing "Clerval had NO ONE who he was interested in romantically? Are you sure?"

"The only thing he was interested in was falling for the tourist nonsense in the places we visited, though he was a good caregiver after...certain instances, the only person he ever showed any interest in was-"

Suddenly, the older woman's face went pale, making Lavender reach out with her arms, just in case Frankenstein fell over herself in a faint, the zoologist praying she would not have to deal with two overdramatic swooners in a single day.

Victoria's face was scarily blank, her eyes being the only thing that moved, they darted around as if remembering something she had long since buried deep in her mind that was now being unwelcomingly played before her like a performance on a stage.

Lavender did not register what happened in the next few seconds till she felt two hands on her shoulders and a pair of olive eyes burning into her own.

"How old is he!?" Victoria asked, eyes looking as though they fought back both blinding rage and unimaginable grief.

Lavender was confused at the weird question but managed to open her mouth to give an answer "T-thirty-five"

Was all the scientist managed to get out before she was released from the surprisingly strong grip and the older woman wandered to the other side of the room mumbling to herself, of which the other strained to hear.

"It fits...that time...I had forgotten it all through these decades...I thought it died...how would...could I make the same mistake twice?!" Frankenstein whisper shouted as her gloved hands dug into her scalp, making her hair even messier "I-I have to think...do not tell him anything when he wakes up! I will tell him...send him to my room the moment he wakes!"

And with that, Victoria left the room in a rush, leaving a very confused Lavender and a still unconscious Jekyll behind to wonder what on God's good earth just happened.

That did not go very well, did it? Did it? Did not seem to.

--- Come on, please wake up soon, you have to go meet Frankenstein! This is no time to sleep! Too much to learn! So much to do!

Should she be concerned? He had been out of consciousness for at least twenty minutes...fainting only lasted a few seconds or a couple of minutes, or that is what all the medical books said, perhaps it was because he still was not sleeping very well? And his body was forcing him to remain asleep to recover?

Perhaps she could try waking Jekyll up? Would that cause more harm than good? She needed to get him up and moving, so they could go see Frankenstein so she could explain things to him!

What had Frankenstein meant by her mumblings? Thought it died? Same mistake twice? That sounded like she was his-

Oh, goodness...

Could it be?

She really had to know now! If they were truly...mother and son, this changed everything! To think they all would be able to learn what happened between the lines of The Modern Prometheus!

Did this technically make Jekyll, Creature's baby brother? Did Frankenstein use some of her DNA in Creatures...well...creation? If so, that would make them siblings in a way, this was so exciting! Perhaps it would give Creature a bit of joy learning he had a sibling of sorts.

She could not wait to tell the others! She was the first to learn about this mind-blowing news! Everyone would be so jealous! Tee Hee!

Lavender hated waiting! She hoped Frankenstein would return, having chosen to not wait for her son to go to her, or doctor Jekyll would wake up and be able to make his way there!

Her face split into a grin when she heard a groan come from the sofa, finally!

Now play it calm, Lavender! Don't make him think something is wrong. --

Jekyll rubbed the back of his head, which was throbbing uncomfortably, thankfully Hyde was still licking his wounds in their mind space from his dressing down at Queen Lucy's hands, so he was too deep inside to cause his type of bother at the moment, small mercies, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, not when it involved some peace and quiet.

A glass was suddenly shoved under the split man's nose, and a dainty hand producing two white pills a moment later.

"Here you are, Doctor Jekyll! You took a bad tumble there, I was starting to get worried" Lavender smiled, hoping she looked friendly and not suspicious, glad when the pills and water were accepted and taken with no complaints.

"I must have passed out, I'm sure something to eat will help," Henry said, getting to his feet, more than happy when the pills proved fast-acting on his headache, though the lack of food in his stomach was making the ache go from his head to his belly.

But he was no stranger to that feeling, did not make it any more fun though, some toast should do the trick and it would make dealing with his problematic guest a little less like pulling the teeth of an ancient horror.

"I'll get it! You need to go see Frankenstein right now!" Lavender responded a bit too quickly and earned a quirked eyebrow in response.

"I already gave her the medical potion today, is there something that has gone wrong?" Jekyll asked, noting the woman's smile was just a bit too wide, reminding him of poor Jaspers attempt at a gentleman's smile.

"Oh, Nononono! Nothing is wrong at all! You will find things very, very RIGHT in fact!" Lavender smiled wider and started to push the doctor towards the door which he allowed in too much confusion to object. "Now go up there! And I will bring you both something! I'm sure Rachel will be more than happy to make tea and biscuits for this!" and with a whirl of her skirts, the Leviathan lover disappeared into the halls.

Jekyll was admittedly suspicious but shrugged off the feeling of dread pooling in his gut, not like a sleepy old woman could do too much damage, right? He would stay out of arms reach and listen to what Frankenstein had to say to him, hopefully, it was not just a ploy to call him a slut again...

There was not enough soap in the world to wash that mouth out! Not that he would ever try to do the deed, he liked having all his fingers, and getting them bitten off was a less than pleasant idea.

Taking a deep breath, he headed for the attic space and slapping yet another smile on his face, this one being a bit more convincing after his pseudo-nap, got to keep up appearances, even for Frankenstein and as much as he did not want to.

He still hoped, in his heart, she would change her mind, take part in the exhibition, convince the rest of the lodgers to join back in, they needed all the help they could get! If this failed...well he knew where Queen Lucy lived now and that Rachel was related...no! no! Bad idea! He would not ask a favor from her!

But if it came down to it and they both had very similar motivations, he was not proud enough at this point not to beg, he did say he would die for science, but would he go to a known thief for it?

Yes, Yes he would do that, in a heartbeat, if that is what it took to not see his life's work be destroyed, to see everything he put blood, sweat, and tears into building, go up in smoke, to prove those who doubted him right, to have his dreams spit on...mocked...

No!

Don't think about that! Don't think that way, not yet, you're not in that pit of despair just yet, keep your head up and a smile on your face, things will work out fine! Just fine, even better than expected even, he just had to do a bit more convincing, perhaps this conversation was the key to the exhibition's success!

The door creaked as Henry opened it and stepped inside, ignoring the urge to wrinkle his nose at the sight of random things littering the floor and the smell of an unbathed life-weaver hitting his nasal cavity like an uncontrolled carriage.

Frankenstein, much to his surprise, was sitting quietly, hands resting in an almost lady-like manner on her lap! she even looked up and smiled at him! And it was not a cold smirk or a disgusted sneer, an actual soft smile, at him of all people! Jekyll was not sure if he should be happy, or disturbed...

What magic spell did Lavender cast on Frankenstein!? He wanted to know it immediately!

Victoria scooted over and patted the now clear space on the bed, signaling for him to sit next to her, and reached out with her other hand in an almost comforting manner.

"Come here, my boy, we have much to talk about,"

#TGS #tgs jekyll #Tgs Hyde #the glass scientists #The glass scientists AU #Based off of a theory #Son of Frankenstein AU #tgs frankenstein #Frankenstein #frankenstiensmonster

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niveunwhite · 5 years

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tddk valentine/white day exchange 2019: (for ray)

for @tododekuvalentine and @tzubakis !! happy tododeku valentines day friendo

title: i think i love you

summary: In a so-called exercise of teambuilding and marketability awareness, the UA teachers had decided to arrange a secret Valentine exchange between the students.

Midoriya Izuku

Todoroki stared down at the piece of paper impassively.

“And remember! Valentine’s Day is next week, so get those cards and candies ready fast-- let me hear you kids say ‘YEAH’!” Present Mic’s words fell on deaf ears as 1-A went about whispering to each other about the names that had been distributed to them.

In a so-called exercise of teambuilding and marketability awareness, the UA teachers had decided to arrange a secret Valentine exchange between the students.

Aizawa shuffled to the front of the group of staff, ignoring Present Mic’s radio energy, “Even though they’re called ‘valentines’, your gifts should not necessarily be romantic. The purpose of this exchange is to establish an appreciation for your peers. You’re likely to be working together for a long time, so take note of and acknowledge the positive traits in each other.”

Todoroki looked over to see Midoriya muttering to himself, deep in thought. Midoriya’s positive traits… Considering the possibilities, Todoroki should have been relieved to have picked him; there should be no shortage of compliments to give such a positive and overall inspiring individual. So why do I feel so tense…?

“You’ve all been working nonstop for the past few months, so this should be a nice change of pace. There’s only fifteen minutes of class left, so just go ahead and get started on this, I guess.” As Aizawa zipped himself in his sleeping bag cocoon for the day, and the rest of the teachers filled out of the classroom, the students quieted down, seeming to take the assignment very seriously.

To Todoroki’s left, Yaoyorozu was writing hesitantly, often sighing to herself. In front of her, Mineta was slumped over on his desk, sniffling. I suppose he didn’t get one of the girls. Todoroki took a moment to give a small prayer of thanks before directing his gaze further forward to see:

Midoriya Izuku. He was leaning over his notebook, writing furiously, right foot tapping. Ever so often, he’d tangle his other hand in his hair, and Todoroki took the opportunity to study the particular shade of green it was. Emerald? No. Brunswick? Not quite… Pure phthalo green. Like it was just painted on. He wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it.

Then Midoriya began to shift as if to look over his shoulder and Todoroki snapped out of his reverie. Quickly looking down at his own blank notebook, Todoroki felt a familiar burning sensation crawling up to his face. Don’t write about his hair, Todoroki made a mental note to himself as he picked up his pencil.

Class ended, as it tends to do, and when evening came, Todoroki found himself in his room, still staring at the same empty piece of paper. Frustrated and confused, he decided to head to the dorm kitchen for hot chocolate. Perhaps he’d run into someone who knew what they were doing along the way.

When he entered the common room, Todoroki saw, in one cluster, Ashido, sprawled upside-down on a couch next to Kaminari and Hagakure, while Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya sat in another on the opposite side of the room. Midoriya looked up as he walked in, smiled, and waved. Todoroki attempted a smile back but it may have come out looking like a grimace, considering how desperately his heart suddenly seemed to be attempting to jump out of his chest. This is probably not normal.

“Sooo, does anyone know what we’re supposed to actually be doing for this secret Valentine thing?” Hagakure’s voice drew his attention back to her group.

“Yeah, they didn’t really give us a whole lot of instructions,” Kaminari agreed, “What’s up with that?”

“As many things will be when we are Pro Heros,” Iida cut into the conversation from the other side of the room, “This assignment is up to our interpretation and discretion. It is yet another test of our initiative and resourcefulness.”

Ashido pouted at this response. “Boo, it sounds less fun when you put it that way.”

Todoroki debated asking for more specific advice, but he wasn’t sure how to do so without sounding foolish. Hot chocolate will make this better, he thought to himself… Probably. As he headed further to the kitchen, Todoroki heard Ashido call his name.

“Todoroki! Who do you have for the exchange? You could probably do something super duper fancy and romantic, huh?”

“Uh.” He responded eloquently.

“Don’t push him!” Uraraka scolded, as Iida simultaneously cried out a reminder of the platonic nature of the exchange.

Then the microwave timer went off and suddenly Midoriya was standing by his side, retrieving a steaming bowl of katsudon. Todoroki stared at Midoriya’s hands as the boy hummed to himself, pouring a sweet-smelling sauce over his food and smiling all the while. They were warped and scarred, but steady and soft-looking? That can’t be right.

“Would you like to come sit with us, Todoroki?”

Todoroki startled, meeting Midoriya’s eyes. “I’m--” he waved his hand towards the empty mug he had retrieved from the cabinets, “... Hot chocolate. Sure.”

Midoriya gave a nervous laugh, scratching lightly at his face with his utterly captivating hands and Todoroki is vaguely aware that Midoriya is saying something, and he’s trying to pull himself back to reality, but he’s a little preoccupied at the moment and--

“T-T-Todoroki? What are you doing?”

Ah, yes. Midoriya’s hand is comfortably soft, despite all the scar tissue. Now what can Todoroki do to explain why he’s holding it between both of his own hands?

“Boom.” A small plume of fire puffed out from Todoroki’s palm, held in such a way that it almost looked like it was coming from Midoriya’s, “You’re Bakugou.”

There was a stretch of silence.

“WHAT?” A sudden wave of laughter came from the common room, “Todoroki, what was that?!”

Turning to look, Todoroki saw his classmates in various states of disarray. Ashido and Kaminari had ended up on the floor, while Hagakure flailed about from her seat, all in fits of uncontrollable laughter. From their own corner, Uraraka looked on with a mixture of concern and barely-concealed mirth, while Iida appeared to be going through every stage of grief simultaneously.

But back to the matter at hand. Todoroki glanced back to Midoriya, who bared an uncanny resemblance to a tomato at the current moment. In the back of his mind, he vaguely registered the smell of something burning.

“I think… I might go back to my room, actually. I have a bit of work I need to do,” Todoroki muttered. Hot chocolate be damned.

“Oh! That’s totally okay,” Midoriya stammered out, “But, um. You’re kind of. On fire a little bit.”

The shrieking in the common room was revitalised as Todoroki quickly extinguished his hair, absolutely mortified. That hadn’t happened since the time Fuyumi caught him running through the living room, pretending to be All Might’s sidekick when he was five. And that now seemed to pale in comparison.

“Thanks. I’ll… see you later.”

...

“Todoroki?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have my hands back?”

Todoroki left the common room with a speed that would have made Ingenium retire in shame. Back in his room, both hot chocolate-less and no further along with his valentine, he laid down on his futon with a silent huff. Sleeping his troubles away didn't sound too bad…

There was a sudden, timid knocking on his door. Inwardly bemoaning his existence, Todoroki pulled himself together and opened the door to find--

“Ah! Hi, Todoroki!” Uraraka beamed up at him with an angelic smile. But not quite as angelic as Midoriya-- He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Undeterred by his silence, Uraraka continued on, “So I couldn't help but notice that you seem kind of unsure about your valentine.”

“Well, I don't really know what to say…”

“Mmhm.” Uraraka studied his face with bright eyes. “Do you have Deku?”

Todoroki took a bit of pride in preventing himself from combusting again. He nodded curtly.

“Oohh, I see…” Uraraka had a somewhat unnerving look on her face… Mischievous? Knowing? What could she know? “Is it alright if I come inside?”

Once reseated on the futon, with Uraraka reclining in his swivelling desk chair, Todoroki felt himself beginning to sweat.

“So, Todoroki,” Uraraka clasped her hands together in a very business-like manner, “What are your intentions with Deku?”

He blinked. “To… surpass him as a hero?”

Uraraka stared at him. “Okay, but maybe, like, more personally?”

Twice. “To give him a good Valentine?”

“Okay, and you want to do that because…?”

And again. “Because… That’s the assignment?”

“Oh, my God, you’re even worse than I was! Where’s your fighting spirit?!” Uraraka slammed her hands down on the chair armrests, “ Listen, Todoroki. I’ve been where you are. Deku would never let anything come between him and his friends. Now’s your opportunity! You have nothing to lose but your chains!”

The confusion in the air had a somewhat salty taste.

“Are we talking about the same thing?”

Todoroki felt his skin crawl as Uraraka once again stared through him.

“You like him,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

“I… Like him.”

“Yes.”

Todoroki contemplated this for a minute. Oh. Oh no.

“You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

His head seemed to nod on its own.

“And you have so many things to say that you can’t even begin to write anything down?”

He looked towards his noticeably blank notebook and nodded.

Uraraka hummed, satisfied. “Sounds like love to me.”

Hm. That surely sounded interesting, but Todoroki was unfortunately too busy experiencing a total emotional reboot to respond.

Uraraka stood up. “I’ll leave you to think about it. But really, you’ll feel a lot better once you get it out there. I’ll see you later!”

Todoroki remained firmly planted on his futon as Uraraka let herself out.

Sounds like love to me. The words rattled around in his head like the world’s most confused baby angel. Is this what love is? Not being able to look at one of your best and only friends in the face without spontaneously combusting? When did this start? How do you make it go away? What would Midoriya do?

Memories of Midoriya murmuring to himself while furiously writing flooded his mind. Smiling, hard-working, genuine, beautiful Midoriya. Todoroki could feel his heart melting. Midoriya would never do anything to hurt him. Maybe Uraraka was right. Maybe he should be straightforward.

With a new sense of resolve, Todoroki picked up his pen. He was ready for the class Valentine's exchange.

I think I love you.

#tddkvalentine2019 #this is my first time doing something like this i hope its okay #tododeku #yeet yeet

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feelingfredly · 5 years

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The Fox Guards the Wolf

Part Three

The Rooster and the Hen House

The dojo was humming with activity, and Ichigo breathed in the familiar scents of sweat, leather mats, and incense, pulling his focus tightly in upon himself, and letting all of his stress melt away.

The first Saturday of every month was for officially refereed matches, and he’d faced three different opponents over the course of the morning, but none of them had beaten him so far. Now he had one more round, and he was done for the day.

He bowed to the referee, and then to his opponent, sending his best friend a challenging smirk.

“Hajime!”

The two were evenly matched. They’d been training together for four years, but this was the first chance they’d had to face off against each other recently due to Renji’s crazy study schedule. Not many of the students at the dojo had as much experience as they did, and it was nice to be able to stretch his skills without being afraid he was going to accidentally hurt someone.

Ichigo raised his hands and lunged, thrusting one leg out and hooking it behind Renji’s foot as he trapped their hands high between their chests.

Grappling was Renji’s bread and butter. He was taller, and a little heavier, and if he could get a good grip Ichigo would be in trouble. Today Ichigo was faster, though, and getting a good foothold off the bat gave him all the edge he needed. He twisted, pulling Renji’s body closer, and then threw him over with all his strength, slamming the taller man onto his back.

“Ippon! Soremade.” The referee’s voice cut through the background noise. Match over. Three for three.

The friends stood, faced each other, and bowed again.

“Shit, Kurosaki,” Renji said, once they cleared the mat, “You were really in the zone today. I haven’t seen you move that fast since Inoue-san tried to get you to eat her chocolate-wasabi onigiri.” He laughed but Ichigo remembered that day. He had moved pretty fast. With Inoue’s food you had to—it was run or die. “Three ippons in a row! You could have at least given me a chance. You had me on my back faster than a fūzoku.”

Ichigo shook his head and tried to ignore the trace of red the teasing brought to his face. Renji was shameless. Luckily, he’d taught Ichigo to give as good as he got.

“Just didn’t want to tease you too much, Abarai. I know how hot and bothered you get thinking about pinning me like that. You’d never have been able to spar with a hard-on.”

As freshmen the two had met in the dojo. Ichigo had taken judo lessons since he turned twelve, and had been expected to keep training by his father, but Renji used judo as an outlet for some of his less socially acceptable impulses. He loved the physicality of it, and said more than once that it was the only thing that kept him from getting kicked out of school. It had only taken a few weeks for the two sparring partners to become friends, and after that first semester they found an apartment close to their classes and moved in together.

They’d fought off and on that first year. Renji went out drinking every weekend and slept through half the undergraduate population—male and female—and didn’t understand why Ichigo spent all his time studying. After a while, though, the newness of freedom wore off and he settled down into a more reasonable routine. He had an ambitious streak that pushed him, and he strove to be the best in every class, but it never turned him into an asshole. He was still the charming, outgoing goofball he’d been from the beginning, and he only occasionally teased Ichigo about his volumes of Shakespeare by the bathtub, and the medical journals he left on the kitchen counter.

His dad hadn’t been thrilled when he said he wanted to move off campus, but after a few meetings he and Renji had hit it off. Both Renji’s parents had died when he was small and he’d been raised in foster care, and while Kurosaki Isshin would never admit it, the redhead had become almost a second son. When Renji had been accepted to law school, he was just as proud as he’d been of Ichigo’s MCAT scores, and he’d bragged about them to anyone who would listen.

Hopefully, he’d never realize what his sons had gotten up to over the years.

“You working at the clinic tonight?” Renji asked. “I didn’t check the schedule this morning.”

“Not tonight.” Ichigo said. “I swapped with Yamazaki-san, so he could attend his little sister’s graduation ceremony last week, so I have an unexpected evening off.”

“Hot date?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Only if you count my laptop.”

Renji snorted. “Sadly, that might sound better if I knew you had a porn addiction, but no. You’re going to find some dusty corner and commune with your muse again aren’t you?”

They hit the lockers and Ichigo pulled his clothes out, focusing on getting dressed so he didn’t have to answer.

Renji was more supportive than most about his writing. He agreed that spending a year working on getting his novel finished and finding an agent was important, but he didn’t understand Ichigo’s choice to stop dating until he’d made a final decision about med school. For him, getting laid was a priority—like breathing—and he was convinced Ichigo was crazy to try to deny himself.

It wasn’t like Ichigo had completely given up on sex. He’d had a few dates where he’d ended up in someone’s bed, but they’d been one night with no strings attached, and he never ended up in the same bed twice. There just wasn’t enough attraction with any of them to make it worth the effort.

“My muse, as you put it, is better company than anyone I’ve been out with recently.” He tugged his shirt over his head and pulled it down. “Anyway, you know how I feel. Until I get things settled it isn’t fair to ask someone to put up with my shit. Hell, I don’t want to put up with my shit.”

Renji came around the corner, dress shirt unbuttoned and untucked, and Ichigo sighed. It wasn’t fair. The man was hot as hell, with his chest tatted up, and his muscles rippling subtly under smooth skin. At one time Ichigo thought he’d found his perfect match, but it wasn’t meant to be. They’d slept together a few times, and the redhead was as enthusiastic a lover as he was a sparring partner, but there was something missing and they both knew it.

“Don’t sell yourself short, man.” Long fingers made short work of his buttons. “There are lots of people out there who have less of an idea of what they’re doing with their lives than you. You’ve got a job, you’re writing a novel, you’re smart, you’re good looking,” he looked down at him and grinned, “and you have the hottest roommate in the history of cohabitation.”

Renji cocked his head to one side, looked at something over Ichigo’s shoulder, and stage whispered. “Someone’s taken notice at least. Although he seems a little on the shy side.”

Ichigo turned to see what he was talking about. “What? Who?” All he could see were a few other judo students.

Renji shook his head, and looked a little dismayed. “Dude was just standing by the door. I noticed him watching the matches earlier. Good looking guy. I guess he saw me watching him, uh, watching, and ducked out.”

Ichigo slid his feet into his shoes and grabbed his bag, the weight of the laptop heavy as he slung it over his shoulder.

“You sure he was watching me?” He looked at his friend. “Of the two of us, you’re the one who gathers groupies.”

Renji lost his smart-ass grin and shook his head. “No way. I gave him a good long look—you know I like the ones that look like they could do a little damage, and this guy looked like he could hold his own—but he didn’t notice me at all. He was all about you.”

Ichigo felt his heart speed up a little. “What did he look like? Kind of tall? Shoulders? Blond hair?”

Renji shook his head again, but looked questioningly down at him. “No. Your height. Dark. Black hair, dark eyes, mid-twenties? Moved like a fighter.”

Sounded like another not-Yakuza, but this one had found him. Shit.

He shut his locker door a little too hard and tried to tamp down the disappointment he felt that it hadn’t been the geta wearing man from the day before. It wasn’t like there was any reason to expect to see him again. He hadn’t even told Ichigo his name.

Even if he had said he’d see him again.

Renji stared at him a minute, and Ichigo could hear the wheels grinding away in his head as he put two and two together and as usual, ended up with five. “What’s going on, Kurosaki? Are you in some kind of trouble? Is this blond you mentioned giving you grief?”

See? Five.

Still. While Renji could be as over-protective as Isshin, it was hard to mind. One of the things they’d first connected over was a hardcore desire to avoid the local gangs, and it was still a hot-button topic for his roommate. Renji had more than his share of run-ins with tough guys in the foster care system and he’d considered it his job to protect the kids who were weaker or smaller than him, whether it was from lousy foster parents, or predatory thugs looking to recruit cannon fodder for their turf wars. For a lawyer, it was an excellent skill set. He could usually smell gang members a mile away, and it helped keep him out of trouble. So, if this guy didn’t set off Renji’s sensors, maybe he wasn’t a bad guy.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“Something strange happened yesterday at Como’s. I was getting ready to head in for my shift at the clinic when these two guys showed up with neon signs over their heads screaming We’re Bad Guys. Before I knew it, I was running a little interference in the middle of some sort of throw-down. No one got hurt.” He thought about that and changed it. “Well, one of the guys with guns got hurt, but he was kind of asking for it.”

Renji stopped dead in the middle of buckling his belt, his eyebrows halfway to his hairline. “Guns? Why am I only hearing about this now? Did you call your old man and tell him?”

This was so not a conversation Ichigo wanted to be having.

“I’m telling you now. I didn’t tell you yesterday because you were balls deep in the flavor of the week when I got home last night and I didn’t feel like ruining the mood. And no, I didn’t call my dad because there was nothing he could have done about it. He’s retired. Anyway, the man who was at the center of the whole thing seemed to have everything well in hand. He was so smooth you’d think that sort of thing happened to him every day.”

Renji made a strangled noise. “Competence isn’t a good thing in these situations. You have to take this seriously. If you got in the middle of some turf war…”

Ichigo scrubbed his hand over his face. “It wasn’t like that. These guys were more like high-end kidnappers than gangbangers.”

Oddly enough, that didn’t improve things. Renji looked like he was going to have a stroke. His face was almost as red as his hair.

“Kidnappers.” He glared. “Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds? And you didn’t let your dad, the retired police lieutenant, know? What the fuck, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo ignored the questions and walked out into the dojo with Renji struggling along behind him, still trying to get his shoes on.

“You know how Goat-face gets. The minute he heard he’d start freaking out and acting like I was fourteen and being brought home from getting my ass kicked, again. I’m twenty-three, Abarai. I have a black belt in judo and a brown belt in karate. I can handle myself. I don’t need to run to my dad for help every time something happens.”

He didn’t mention that it would terrify his sisters, or that it would throw the entire Kurosaki household into turmoil, forcing his dad to relive the nightmare of his wife’s death. His father had many skills. Moving on wasn’t one of them.

“Kurosaki-san!”

The voice came from one of the younger instructors trying to flag him down as he headed for the exit.

“Someone left this for you at the desk.” Ichigo took the message with a respectful bow and murmured thanks, and continued out the door.

After the dojo the street was oddly quiet, the background buzz dropping to just faint traffic noise, and the two friends stopped and stood against the wall, looking down at the card in Ichigo’s hand.

It was a white card with a small red embossed inkan in the corner, the writing clean and precise, and it was clearly addressed to Kurosaki Ichigo.

“What’s that?” Renji asked, peering over his shoulder. “Love letter from a secret admirer? Maybe he was too shy to stay and ask you out in person. Or maybe it’s a ransom demand from your friendly neighborhood kidnappers. It’s even odds.”

Ichigo made a fed up sound. “Drop it, Abarai. Remember, I know where you sleep.”

Renji waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “As if I could forget. I keep my door open in case you ever want me to comfort you after a bad dream.”

Ichigo stared at his friend. It was like living with an overgrown puppy with ADHD and a sex addiction. How the man managed to survive in law school was a mystery.

Maybe he fucked all his professors. It would explain a lot.

“Who is Tsukabishi Tessai?” Renji asked, switching his focus back to the note and Ichigo groaned at the mental whiplash. Definitely ADHD.

“I met him yesterday at the coffee house.”

Ichigo thought back and tried to remember all the details about the man that he could. He was tall, even taller than Renji, with dark skin and tiny braids running along his scalp. The most powerful feeling Ichigo had been left with about him, though, was one of almost preternatural calm. It was as if nothing short of a bomb going off could unsettle the man. A good trait for someone faced with armed bad guys, he supposed.

“He was not one of the kidnappers I’m presuming?”

Ichigo sighed but didn’t feed the troll.

He re-read the note wondering if it was some sort of trick, but it hadn’t changed. “No. He showed up after everything started to go to hell. He was driving, but he didn’t act like any chauffeur I’ve ever heard of. Instead of freaking out over someone trying to grab his boss, or over the fact that we basically beat the crap out of two guys in the middle of the sidewalk, he just apologized for being late, took their guns and tossed the men into the back seat of his car.”

Renji looked like he wanted to start yelling again, but he restrained himself. Barely.

“And this is… what? A thank you note? A threat? He wants to make sure you keep your mouth shut and don’t tell the authorities?”

Ichigo shook his head again, and gave up trying to make sense of it all, and handed the card over for Renji to read for himself.

“He’s offering me a job.”

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years

Text

Legends Recap

Because while I was determined not to (I was three episodes behind!), sometimes a girl's just got to scream into the void: "HOW DO THESE WRITERS KEEP THEIR JOBS?"

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Raiders of the Lost Art: Wow, I don’t care about Rip. Also, you had the fucking spear of destiny through all of season 1? Fucking incompetent.

I’ve seen the Mick scene before. *hugs Mick*

…Nate is such an annoying frat boy. 3AM blasting bad music? In a small space near other people’s sleeping quarters? And just “oh, yeah, sorry, I needed to do a thing” as an explanation? We have a name for those people: assholes.

Again: Indiana Jones is an archeologist. Not a historian.

“Anyone would have made the call to save Grey!” “Would Rip?” Answer: no, because Rip doesn’t care about the team. Remember how he did that repeatedly last season? Why is this show trying to push Sara’s weird (and out of nowhere) crush on Rip?

I have literally no interest in Rip’s issues. Zero.

Fear of giant toads, somehow related to Mick’s mother (reference to “mommy talk”). Dragon!Mick confirmed?

Mick’s expression of “you’ve got to be kidding me” is going to be the highlight of this episode, I can tell.

I’m pleased they remember that Mick can knock someone out without harming them. I’m less pleased that they seem to have forgotten that Sara can do the same?

“Oh now, our way out is block! Pity we didn’t bring Jax, so that we could literally Firestorm fly our way out! That would have made sense, but cost precious CGI money!”

Mick’s tradition of carrying people continues.

Oh god, this episode’s only halfway over. Make it stop.

Goody, Stein insulting Mick to his face. Also, emotional problems leading to hallucinations are a serious problem??? Even if it’s just “emotions”, there are hallucinations?

NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not having 4 PhDs or a history degree = total inability to read words!

NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not being an inventor or a historian makes you useless!

Also, apparently getting mugged once can cause a change of career after dropping money and time into it.

Why did they move the chair into Mick’s room? HOW did they? (Why were we, the audience, deprived of the glorious scene of Mick and Stein hauling it down the hallway)

Also, Mick has been interpreting Stein’s academic technobabble without a problem the whole episode, and yet, everyone on board thinks he’s stupid…

I’m incredibly pissed at this episode for raising hopes of Len and then destroying them. Both for Mick, and for the audience.

I’m also not here for the Rip/Sara thing. Also the fact that this show seems to assume people will be super disbelieving despite being on a goddamn spaceship.

Oh, my bby! Mick’s head is literally SLICED OPEN in that scene! WTF?

I get all the Star Wars references, I just…don’t care…

George Lucas is holding the spear of destiny, which makes him a great director…or, at least, married to one. He’s a good tech guy, at least.

In which the Guy Who Has Never Been In A Fight Decides Not To Run From Evil Bad Guys Because…Plot.

Mick’s little smile when he says “ghost” and the heartbreak after it is just…unnecessary. Also, wtf, Stein, hallucinations are not a usual response to grief, okay?

Ugh.

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Legion of Doom:

Damien’s intro is more interesting than 95% of the normal Legends’.

Okay, why is Merlyn having Feelings about Darkh dying? (Also, wouldn’t removing Darkh from the timeline mean that that timeline no longer happens? Why do G. Lucas’ ~~feelings~~ about filmmaking have an immediate impact but literally removing the person who doesn’t go on to do any of the shit he later does not?)

Fucking writers. This could be such a good show if they cared even a LITTLE.

I do enjoy the sheer bitchiness of the bad guys. Pity they’re Nazis. Also, do we need all the scenes of tortures?

ALSO: why the hell would his daughter help with a mystical artifact? Like, I see that she does because of plot, but couldn't they have put any effort into explaining why her specialty is required? Also, why does she have a radiation detector in her pocket when she goes to get coffee?

Bad guys: bitch-bitch-bitch.

Bad guys: bitch about each other.

Bad guys: yet MORE bitching!

Bad guys: worst bank robbers ever?

Mick’s difficulty thinking of the word is adorable. And yeah, she deserved to know. Everyone acting super weird about her, and she doesn’t know why? She would have wanted to know. It was clearly deliberate, too (I love how he goes to “asphyxiation”!)

Bad guys: going back to bitching. With swords! (See, I’d like them, but: Nazis.)

Stein is moping because Mick “spilled the beans” on a secret he shouldn’t be keeping. So sad.

Both sides figure out Eobard, finally. Also, can’t Eo just phase out through the wall?

Speedster: not…use…speed…force? I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand?

Eo’s terror face is hilarious. Also, did everyone just forget about phasing?

Stein’s family drama, yeah, yeah. Stein: Can’t you stay? Lily: No, the budget can’t afford another regular. I mean, I have protein-folding to be doing instead of LITERAL time travel with future science! Because that’s totally how normal people/scientists make decisions!

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Turncoat:

Mick’s intro is lovely.

Interesting mention about “time travel” being fun – I assume not all the memories are back in place. That, or being a Time Master is even more dull than I’d previously imagined.

I’m in for Gideon killing everybody! *notes down fic idea*

Go Mick! Use your skills! (Ray deserves all the arm twisting.)

Nate and Amaya – boring. And seriously, with the ‘falling into his arms’ thing?

Good lord, someone actually makes a plan that includes the line “and then if there’s trouble, Firestorm”? I thought I’d never see the day.

(Ray should totally go as a toy. And Ray, stop making faces at Mick – you’ve been a dick to him all season, only fair he gets some licks back in.)

“Oh you’re married to a black woman! Don’t you know we were racist back then!” says the man in late 18th century New Jersey, where rich black women could still vote. (No, really, in a handful of states black women could vote as long as they owned property. This was one of the rights that was lost when the US got itself a federal government. But the past was always racist! because we didn't make this joke enough when Kendra and Ray were dating!)

Ray’s “Mer-ry Christmas!” is amusing.

Mick identifies the problem faster than anyone else, as usual. Mick disapproves of Rip’s behavior – and Rip’s attempt to compare the two of them. For shame, Rip; as usual, thinking the worst of Mick.

“And Rory.” “That was implied.” Yeah, sure. At least Jax gets next Captain after Sara goes! First time I’ve seen any reference to Jax’s leadership skills in…the entire series…

Really. Twice. That doesn’t make it funny.

“I’ll bet a hundred yous you’re wrong” = Mick is the best. Georgie isn’t wrong about there being rules of war, but Mick is still the best.

Jax. Jax. I love you, but there is a DIFFERENCE between “wow, I’m in charge of a handful of people and need to make decisions” and “I’m going to do a potentially life threatening activity involving literally digging into my friend’s stomach (which is filled with organs that, if nicked, could cause sepsis and death) with a knife, and I’m going to do it without a guide or any experience”. Stein wins this one hands down.

Okay, let me just be clear: somehow, Amaya has been on this ship for months and months and never heard the term ‘dating’ and is instead using ‘courting’, which is the most formal of formal terms used in the past. Because obviously a man – to use old-fashiony language like this show wants to – “called on” or “stepped out with” a woman a few times before officially declaring a courtship. Because the past didn’t have one-night stands, because people only developed libidos around the time of the internet. SERIOUSLY SHOW? People have been fucking for fun since forever. The whole “sexual revolution” thing was a revolution because women could have sex for fun WITHOUT RISK OF PREGNANCY.

Before then, they still had sex, they used what contraceptives they had and hoped for the best. There’s a reason shotgun weddings were a thing. And why

And I was told they went with the “huddling for warming -> sex” thing, I knew it was coming, it’s just…disappointing. Boring.

Jax Home Alone looks like it’s going to be fun.

Rip – the most ahistorical haircut, or the most ahistorical haircut? Ugly, too.

Georgie: “Don’t punish Mick! He’s not guilty!” Mick: “You bet your ass I am! Possibly not at the moment, but of many other things! And also, just generally speaking!”

Still bored with Nate/Amaya.

Jax Home Alone is not anywhere near as fun as I was hoping. Boo.

Mick: So I’m getting you out of here. George: No. Mick: *tries insults* *it’s not very effective* George: *stirring speech* Mick: *stirring speech* *it’s super-effective!* George: …

“Oh, no, what about George Washington and Rory!” says the person happily having sex and napping instead literally five minutes before.

Awwwww, Ratigan! That is some terrible CGI.

Why are they selling the Rip/Sara? It’s icky. (This is me: totally believing that Sara’s dead. Really. Totally. Even for five seconds.)

First, the historical critique: they shouldn’t ALL be standing around at a hanging with primed guns, that’s a recipe for disaster.

Second: I don’t even care this is glorious. Mick saves everyone! Mick tackles four people! George uses his superior height!

Also, if Mick convinced him early in the evening, then they literally spent all night talking.

First instance of Georgie-boy! (though poor Mick is still suicidal, oh dear)

George: …yeah, Americans out, stage left, pursued by bear.

Jax, Jax, baby, just shoot him in the kneecap. What the hell is with these heroes? Sara’s back and decides to use Christmas against everyone because…no, I have no idea why. Is it just me or does it feel like these episodes are massively out of order?

Awwww, Georgie and Mick drinking together <3 Mick and the criminal justice system! And then they hug! Mick finally has a good friend!

“Rebel spirit, steadfastness, crass yet effective use of language, you’re the best of what our new nation can be” – Mick is now officially embarrassed and hiding. Man, if I hadn’t already written that Barry/Mick fic, I would now.

Sara and Jax bro-ship is perfectly okay. More of that.

Mick in a hat! Mick with his new rat! <3 Mick kissing his new rat!

“We have nothing to celebrate – including Mick getting a statute!” – why, guys, why?

(Mick’s face of “yeah I still got nothing” whenever the statute is mentioned is adorable)

“Because the League may have everything – smarts, beauty, cunning, charisma…wait, where was I going with this?”

#dc's legends of tomorrow #lot liveblog

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