#eating chocolate while posting this particular chapter was probably a bad idea
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The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 47
I wrote this one like two weeks ago omg, anyway I know I said I was updating on Sundays but I bet I’m gonna forget tomorrow, considering the new episode, so I’ll change it to “updating at some point on the weekends”. Anyway, have a chapter that’s somehow angsty and cracky at the same time
Also on AO3 as always, where you can read this sprawling 170k+ word count monster of a fic from the beginning
Alix had never before been so grateful that Max was one of the calmest, most logical people she had ever met. She was sure that he must be freaking out too – an assassination attempt was not something to be taken lightly – but at least he was a lot better at outwardly hiding it than she was. But then again, he didn’t have to deal with his brain constantly reminding him of the image of his own best friend dying horribly right in his arms, so of course it was easier for him.
Anyway, she had to get her mind off that somehow. Time to solve this mystery.
First they went back to her room to get the snake, just to keep a close eye on it as always, and then they took the chocolates over to the school authorities in the office near Duke Damocles’s tower. It was late at night by now and students were really not supposed to be wandering around the corridors, but luckily they did not run into anyone.
The school authorities did not seem to take the matter very seriously. They took the chocolates and smiled rather unconvincingly, telling Alix and Max to just go back to sleep and they would sort it all out in the morning. Then they shut the door and locked it.
“I’m not waiting till morning,” Alix said immediately, thinking about how much of a difference even a few minutes could make when it came to life or death situations. “And I don’t trust these authorities, they don’t really seem to care. What should we do now? Do we tell Kim?”
Max was silent for a few seconds, thinking. “I suggest we go talk to Alya. She’ll know what to do.”
That was a good idea. Alya’s spy ring was not much of a secret among the royals, despite the fact that ordinarily spy rings were meant to be kept hidden. The simple fact was that Alya’s reputation as spymaster was usually enough to strike fear into the hearts of anyone up to mischief, and so there was hardly any need for secrecy. And plus, no one actually knew the identities of most of her agents, so the main bulk of the spy network was left intact. She really knew what she was doing.
They went back to the dorms and knocked on Alya’s door. When she opened it she had her pyjamas on and her hair in a silk scarf, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“I’m guessing if you’re waking me up this late there’s an emergency, and it better not be anything to do with Adrien being in danger yet again,” she muttered.
“Not Adrien who’s in danger,” Max said. “Someone else.”
“Alright, well come in and tell me about it. I’ll see what I can do.”
They entered her room and she shut the door behind them, and Max immediately launched into an explanation of everything that was much more coherent than Alix probably would have managed. Seriously, how was he so logical? Even when his own best friend was in such imminent danger? Wait – not just best friend. Sweetheart, too.
“Poisoned chocolates,” Alya mused, tapping her chin in thought. “Sent to Kim anonymously. I do indeed have some suspicions, but nothing definite. I’ll go start up an investigation and do everything I can – meanwhile you just sit tight and wait. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve discovered anything. If it’s safe to do so, that is. I don’t know how long things will take so you can try going to sleep if you want.”
She pulled on a cloak and left through the door, picking up a little notebook from the table as she did so.
“I’m not going to sleep, no way,” Alix said. She knew perfectly well what would happen if she went to sleep right now, when the other timeline – the Poisoned Chocolates Timeline – was in such turmoil. It was hard enough to get the image of Max dying out of her head even while awake. Sleep would be nothing but nightmare after nightmare, for sure.
“I would prefer not to sleep for now either,” Max said. He sat down on the floor against the side of the bed, his knees curled up to his chest, finally starting to look as stressed as he must feel.
“I need some distraction,” she said, sitting down beside him.
“What kind of distraction?”
“Literally anything. Just talk to me about something. Stupid stuff. Happy things. Or funny things. I don’t care, just get my mind off those stupid chocolates.”
More like get her mind off all these stupid deaths. First she’d had to deal with seeing her snake beheaded, then suffer the pain of a nasty death by snake bite, and now witnessing Max die too? Part of her wished beyond reason that she never had these timeline powers in the first place. They were only making her unhappy. But then again, if she didn’t have these powers then she wouldn’t have been able to warn Max about the chocolates, and he would have died this time too…
“What should I talk about?” he said, his voice weak and tired. He had taken off that little heart brooch from Kim and was looking at it fondly. Those two really liked each other a lot, didn’t they?
“How such a smart, logical person like you could have been so dumb about your ridiculous crush on Kim for several months,” she suggested, smiling a little. Max began smiling too, looking embarrassed.
“I just didn’t think he would like me back…”
“Yeah, I know, you kept saying that. It was so annoying.”
“Yes, it must have been…” Some thought must have occurred to him, since his whole demeanour suddenly changed. He looked down at the floor and said, in a rather fake-casual voice, “By the way, um… you said you wanted me to talk to you about ‘stupid stuff’ well, I uh, had a bit of a question actually, I’ve been meaning to ask for a while…”
“No, I’m not telling you what happened in the lift, and it wasn’t even very stupid. It was cool.”
“Oh, it’s not that! I just… um…” He was fiddling nervously with the brooch. “From, um, a scientific point of view, because I’m curious, I was just wondering… well… everyone knows what happened at the winter party, and based on things you’ve said happened in other timelines, I wanted to ask… alright this is sounding a little stupider than intended but… do you have any tips? For kissing Kim?”
For a few seconds she just stared at him in disbelief. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.
“For science!” Max said quickly.
Science. Uh-huh. Sure.
She couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter.
“I wasn’t joking!” Max said, giving her a rather sharp poke in the arm. “If I’m going to be a good ruler then I need to have knowledge in a vast area of subjects, including romance, so…”
“It’s really not that hard,” she said, still laughing a little. Some stupid humour was indeed a very welcome distraction from traumatizing deaths. “It’s not like I knew what I was doing either, I mean, you just gotta like try to forget how gross it is and make sure you breathe, ‘cause that idiot has the best lung capacity and doesn’t need to so you better not die, and if you don’t tilt your head then your nose will get in the way and it’ll be hilarious, and he’s pretty tall so maybe stand on something…”
“I know all this already,” Max huffed. “I’ve already kissed him twice actually, and I’ll have you know that I have indeed studied the art of kissing, so I know plenty of this…”
“You’ve studied the art of–”
“For scientific purposes!” he said hastily. “For science. Of course.”
“Of course.”
“Shush. Anyway, I didn’t want generic tips. I want tips specific to Kim. What does he like? Considering how much he hates admitting that people are better than him, yet in both this timeline and others you seem to have apparently proven yourself a better kisser, you must have done something right.”
She shrugged. “Dude, Kim already likes you loads. I don’t think he really cares if you’re good at kissing or not. Just do what you want.”
“I suppose… if he survives all this assassination drama, that is… otherwise it’ll all be irrelevant anyway…”
The seriousness of the situation hit her again, like a tidal wave. But no – she didn’t want to think about it! Anything but those poisoned chocolates, the very real possibility that her friends were close to death.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” she sighed, trying not to laugh again when saw how Max’s face lit up. He was as much of a dork as Kim was, honestly. “But for the record, I’ll just warn you that kissing is totally disgusting and I don’t get how people enjoy it.”
“I think that’s just you.”
“Yeah…”
She thought back to the other timelines, carefully avoiding recent chocolate-related events, and went straight for those cursed spring holidays. Well… part of them, anyway. Thinking about them too much was definitely going to have her throwing up again, and her mood was already bad enough as it was.
“You already know what a hopeless romantic he is,” she said, “which honestly makes you a way better match for him than me, like seriously what was he thinking. Anyway, the point is that if you be really cheesy and sappy and like… I don’t know, whisper lovey-dovey stuff in his ear or whatever, he’s gonna melt. Just be really romantic.”
Max quickly stood up to grab a piece of paper and pencil off Alya’s desk, then sat back down and started writing. “Be… really… romantic…”
“Are you seriously making notes?”
“I told you, this is all purely for scientific research,” he said, still writing.
“Wow, I can’t wait for you to tell Kim that when you’re making out with him. ‘Hey Kim, isn’t this scientific research fun?’ So very romantic of you. He’ll love it.”
“Just keep going!”
“Alright…”
Trying not to gag, she carried on looking through the timelines. It was a mess. Hopefully Kim and Max’s relationship wouldn’t end up such a superficial, colossal trainwreck.
“Like I said, he has the best lung capacity,” she continued, “so he’s not very good at uh… stopping. Because he forgets that other people need to actually breathe. So don’t be afraid to just shove him away and go do something else because you’re bored or grossed out or whatever. Though I expect that won’t be a problem for you.”
“I shall practise holding my breath,” Max muttered as he continued to write.
“You’re really taking all this that seriously?”
“Yes!”
Wow… people really surprised her sometimes. All her life she had known that romance was something considered very important, yet she still often found it hard to believe that it wasn’t just some conspiracy that everyone was in on. Surely people didn’t genuinely care about it that much? But clearly Max did, and she knew that Kim did too, and so did everyone else…
She reminded herself firmly of the article in the science journal, and that being aromantic was a real thing, and that it wasn’t just her alone in the universe like this, and then she forced her bitterness out of her mind to carry on helping Max. Now was not the time to be grumpy. Especially considering everything else that was going on.
“I don’t even know why you would do this in the first place,” she said, “but if you even attempt to do that gross French-kiss thing with the tongue then he will go and get a pair of scissors and chop it off so you can never do that again. Because he actually does agree with me that tongues are gross. Though he disagrees about the teeth. Apparently those are okay for some reason.”
Max nodded, then jotted that down on the piece of paper. He really was taking this absurdly seriously. It was almost funny, really. At least she knew for certain that he loved Kim a hell of a lot.
“And I’m pretty sure he has a secret weakness for neck kisses, so uh, do that thing.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Max asked, finally looking up.
“Man I don’t know, I’m the complete wrong person to be asking.”
He chuckled. “Oh yes, true… you have been making your distaste very clear so far…”
“Good. Hmm, what else… well he likes pillows, so he will definitely cheat on you with his imaginary pillow sweetheart. But you knew that. And he absolutely has a thing for sports bras, which you probably knew too, though I guess that might be irrelevant in your case. Who knows if it works with guys. If you’re a girl then it’s a definite shortcut to him wanting to make out with you though, that’s for sure.”
“Are you sure it was the sports bra’s fault? Are you sure it wasn’t just you?”
“Um, trust me. It was definitely the bra.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. I’m not telling you because it’s weird. So stop being nosy.”
Max grinned. “There’s a lot you haven’t told me…”
“Yeah, because it’s weird, and I don’t want to have to think about it or I’m gonna vomit. Anyway, I’ve had enough timeline digging for today, you can figure out everything else yourself. And I’m pretty sure Kim likes you for different reasons than he liked me, so maybe everything I’ve said might be irrelevant.”
“Thank you anyway,” Max said, folding up the piece of paper and slipping it into his pocket.
At that moment the door opened and Alya came back into the room, dragging a sleepy-looking Kim in with her. She quickly shut the door behind them.
“I’ve found out some information, and also woken up Kim and explained everything, since I doubt either of you would want to have to go through that again,” she said, so fast, bringing the mood back down to how low it had been before.
Kim went and sat down on the other side of Max, giving them all a shaky smile. “This is a pretty weird thing to wake up to, isn’t it… that I’m so cool I’ve got actual assassins after me, how rad is that…”
“It won’t be so rad if they actually succeed,” Alya said, sitting on the desk chair and looking down at the three of them. “Anyway, I haven’t yet found out who did it. All I have been able to discover so far is that the school authorities have quietly disposed of the chocolates without testing them, which most likely suggests that they already knew about the assassination plot and were told to ignore it – either because they planned it, were part of it, or are allied with whoever planned it. So the culprit is probably someone from the Bourgeois Empire or one of its numerous allies. Of course, Bourgeois isn’t officially allied with Agreste until they manage to track Adrien down, but according to Chloé, Bourgeois will do anything to provide Agreste with assistance, which could involve aiding an assassination. But none of this is certain.”
That was a lot to take in at once. Alya scribbled something in her little notebook.
“I’ll carry on my investigations and try to find out who is behind this and how to stop them,” she continued. “It might take a while. In the meantime, I’ll find a way to keep you safe Kim, don’t worry. My kingdom is like this all the time, I’m used to it. Dodging assassination plots is my business. Just carry on as normal, and don’t act like anything is different. Don’t mention the poisoned chocolates to anyone.”
“I’ll try,” Kim said.
“Good. You’ll be alright. And Max, I’m glad you’re okay too. As for Alix, well… you’re going to hate me for this, but I have a difficult job for you to do. I know looking into the other timeline is the last thing you want to do right now, but if you can manage it, it might help us somehow. The death of a royalty student, and especially not the one the authorities were expecting, is high treason and would certainly be thoroughly investigated, and they might be able to find out who was responsible quicker and more accurately than I can. So if you can find out from the other timeline who the assassin is and why they did it, that can help us catch them here as quick as possible with minimal suspicion. Is that okay?”
Alix just nodded, feeling her heart sinking at the prospect of having to look at what was going on in that timeline right now. A timeline where the reality was that Max was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was hard enough to not cry again when blocking out the timeline, so how was she supposed to cope when deliberately looking at it?
“I suggest you all go get some sleep now,” Alya said. “I know that seems impossible, but just try. I know what it’s like to be in danger. You’ll get through this. Now goodnight.”
“Can’t we have a sleepover?” Kim asked.
“Do you really think there’s space in here for that?”
Memories of the Imperial Prince Adrien Protection Squad suddenly flooded back into Alix’s head. “Yeah, there’s space for that,” she said.
“No there isn’t. Alix, you have a monarch-size room complete with a balcony. Us princes and princesses don’t get that.”
She looked around, realizing that it was true – Alya’s room was smaller than her own, and she had never even really noticed.
“Anyway, things will seem a little better in the morning,” Alya said. “Just get some sleep. It’ll be sorted out soon, I promise. Spymaster Alya can sort out anything.”
Alya sounded so confident, so sure of herself. Maybe she was just acting the part to get everyone to stop worrying. But it did somewhat work.
“Fine,” Alix said, standing up. “Goodnight.”
Part of her wanted to go and hug Max again, just to remind herself that he was indeed okay, that he was alive and well, that he hadn’t eaten those chocolates. But if she did then she was afraid that she would never want to let go, and everything would be overwhelming again. She just couldn’t go through that again. The feeling of having someone she cared about killed.
So instead she just waved and left the room, trudging back to her own one and trying not to imagine some cold-blooded assassin waiting in the shadows, out to get her friends. There was someone in this very building who was planning a murder at this very moment. It made her blood boil with rage.
Whoever they were, she was not going to let them get away with this.
Kim was up early the next morning. To be fair, he really hadn’t slept very much at all. After going back to his own room last night he had lain awake for hours, his mind spinning. Did someone really want to kill him? And who would be cruel enough to do it with chocolates, of all food?
The part that scared him most, though, was that somewhere in another timeline, Max had paid for it with his life. His poor, precious, sweet Max, an innocent victim. Gone forever. It sent shivers down his spine to think of losing him, made him tear up, made him want to punch a wall, all sorts of weird and terrifying emotions that he barely knew how to handle. He wanted to be worried for himself, like he knew he should be considering that someone was trying to kill him, but all he could even think about was Max.
That Max really had died, somewhere out there, and the only reason he didn’t here was down to luck alone. One tiny moth was the difference between him living and dying.
So it was really no wonder that Kim had barely got any sleep that night, considering he had just been hugging a pillow and trying to stave off the tears as best as he could. He was afraid, he was stressed, he just didn’t know what to do. How on earth was he supposed to act totally normal in the morning, as if nothing was wrong at all? How could he do that when all he wanted to do was hold Max in his arms and protect him from harm until the end of time?
Before breakfast that morning, they all met up in Alya’s room again. It was mostly by accident – clearly they all wanted to check up with her about whether her investigations had uncovered anything else, and what were they supposed to do now.
“I looked in the other timeline and found out some stuff,” Alix said, looking and sounding grumpier than Kim had ever seen her, which really was saying something. “Because of… what happened to Max… the police forces from the International Alliance got involved and worked through the night. They found out who did it and managed to track him down and arrest him. Some dude who claimed to be working for the Agreste Empire, I think his name was Theo or something. I’m not entirely sure, since the version of me from that timeline is really not in the mood for doing anything except maybe committing a few murders herself.”
“Theo?!” Alya leapt to her feet. “Are you sure?”
“I literally just said that no, I’m not sure.”
“Theo… Theo…” Alya began pacing around the room. “Surely it can’t be him. Surely not. He used to work for me, quite a while ago. But then he did take up another job… but I thought he was working for the school, not an undercover assassin from Agreste… Would he really commit a murder? Well yes, he really would… and if he’s working for the Agreste Empire, then… that could only mean…”
She stopped abruptly and looked up at the others, her face determined.
“I think I know what’s going on. You see, if Kim dies and the evidence points towards the Agreste Empire, Lê Chiến would almost certainly declare war on them, which is exactly what Emperor Gabriel would want, so he can use the unfounded accusation as an excuse to take more land without being so condemned by the other countries. In fact, Lê Chiến is already fairly weak – the previous king died in mysterious circumstances, an elderly regent is currently ruling, and they’re enemies with the most powerful empire in the world. Kim is the only thing holding the country together, and he can’t even go back there right now. If Kim dies, Agreste can attack. And that’s exactly what they want.”
None of it felt real. Here they were, a bunch of teenaged royalty, in a dorm room chatting about death, murder, global wars. Kim felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time someone mentioned him “dying”. It was so different to this time yesterday, when everything had been so blissful and perfect. How could it all have changed so fast? Did Adrien’s father really want him dead?
“Of course, since the authorities threw away the chocolates, there’s no evidence of the crimes in this timeline,” Alya said, “and I doubt Alix’s timeline powers would be enough to go upon. No one from the Bourgeois Empire would be willing to help incriminate someone from Agreste, except Chloé probably. Theo – if he really is the assassin, which seems likely – is still roaming free as a supposed school guard, and probably still trying to kill Kim. We have to find a way to stop him without raising suspicion.”
“Can I fight him?” Alix asked, completely deadpan.
“I was thinking more like hiring him as a double agent actually. I’ve worked with him before, I know him better than anyone from Agreste does. Anyway, the most important thing for now is finding a permanent solution to the question of how to keep Kim safe. We need a way for Emperor Gabriel to not think it worth it to kill him and start a war. And I’m thinking that the best way to do that is to get Lê Chiến into the International Alliance, or at least ally officially with the countries in charge of it, which would deter Emperor Gabriel from causing a war, as it would result in much deeper backlash for him.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Max spoke up suddenly. “But how would that be possible? Kim hasn’t been crowned yet so he doesn’t have the authority to do such a thing, and his grandmother the regent is definitely not about to leave the country in order to organize it. In fact, there’s barely any way to get communications in and out of Lê Chiến, let alone people.”
“Messenger pigeon,” Alya said. “We get Kim to call Cheng, they send a pigeon to his grandma, she sends an official form giving him permission to be in charge of allies and possible entry into the International Alliance. And then you take him to Alix’s kingdom in the holidays, since they founded the International Alliance in the first place, and while he’s there he can negotiate alliances and get himself and his country some protection.”
Kim’s head was spinning again. This was all so much to take in. He wasn’t good at this politics business, he had no idea what he was doing, he couldn’t understand how any of this would stop someone halfway across the world from sending poisoned chocolates after him. He could barely understand why someone who he had never even personally met wanted him dead anyway. How could someone just be like that? Kill without a second thought? As if someone’s life just meant nothing?
He felt something on his shoulder and jumped a little, only to see that it was Max resting his hand there and looking up at him, concerned.
“Kim, are you alright with all that?”
Kim gulped and nodded. “Um… yeah. I have to get my grandmother to let me make alliances and stuff. And then stay with Alix for the holidays. And somehow try and single-handedly get my country into the International Alliance – all without being assassinated…”
It really was all starting to weigh on him now. How was he supposed to do this? He had no idea what he was doing. Barely a prince, nowhere near skilled enough to be a king, the worst possible person for being put in charge of the fate of a country – the fate of so many innocent people if war ever really did break out! This wasn’t just about his own life, this was about everyone’s life. So much overwhelming pressure… how could he even begin to do this?
“You don’t have to do it single-handedly,” Max said, his voice gentle and soothing. “We’ll be there to help you. I’ll come with you. It’ll be alright.”
Oh… that calming influence. Thank goodness for Max.
“In the meantime, I won’t let you get assassinated,” Alya said. “I have my ways. It’s better if you don’t know all the details, but trust me. You’re not going to die any time soon.”
“I’ll kickstart the alliance discussions back home if you want,” Alix said. “I can call Jalil and tell him to start getting the forms and meetings and stuff ready so that it’ll be quicker by the time we get there. Oh, and I have a venomous pet snake, so if anyone tries to hurt you then I will kill them.”
“Um, maybe don’t kill them,” Kim said.
“Okay, I will scare them away. Is that better?”
He nodded. His friends were all so brave – willing to get involved in this political mess, just for him. Going to such lengths to protect him. It almost made him want to cry.
“Anyway, we’d better go to breakfast,” Alya said, looking at the clock on her wall. “And remember, just act normal. Don’t speak about this to anyone. You never know who’s listening in. Now come on.”
She put on her glasses – had she not been wearing them before? Kim hadn’t even noticed – and went out of the door. Alix quickly followed.
Kim took a deep breath, trying to return his brain to whatever its “normal” state was. At this point he didn’t even know. Right now it didn’t feel like life could ever go back to normal again, not really. Everything was different now. He had to actually step up and be a proper prince now. He wasn’t just Kim anymore, some foolish royal kid. He was Prince Kim, heir to the throne.
“Are you alright?” Max asked him. What an impossible question to answer.
“I guess,” Kim replied, once the silence had gone on too long to bear. “Are you?”
“Well I didn’t eat any poisoned chocolates, so I suppose I’m doing fine.”
Those poisoned chocolates… oh, poor Max…
“I’m really glad you’re safe,” Kim managed to say. How was he supposed to cope the whole day if he could barely even talk to Max without feeling too overwhelmed to function?
“I’m glad you’re safe, too.”
Aware that Max’s hand was still on his shoulder, Kim reminded himself what “normal” had been for him at this time of day yesterday. Normal had been swooning over Max, his new sweetheart, showing him off for all the world to see. Normal had been laughing with his friends, not a care in the world. At least some of that could be brought back. It would be a start.
He took Max’s hand in his own and gently kissed the tips of his fingers, feeling a comforting, familiar rush of adrenaline as he did so. Max was always the one constant he could rely on in this ever-changing world, the one person who made him feel at home.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he mumbled, willing himself not to cry. “You just… you… you’re…”
Max pressed his hand to Kim’s lips. “Shh. I know. I’m amazing.”
Kim couldn’t help but smile at that. “You really are.”
“And so are you, which is why all of us will always be here to help you out. Things will be okay.”
Things will be okay. It was hard to believe, but Max saying it made it sound much more real. If Max believed it, it must be true. Everything would turn out fine in the end.
“You’re a good prince,” Max continued, almost as if he could hear Kim’s thoughts. “You’ve been put into a very tough situation, but you’re doing your best, and that’s what’s important. You always do your best. It’s… part of why I like you so much…”
And now Max was looking down slightly, smiling to himself, probably blushing somewhat. It was almost too cute to bear. At least being overwhelmed by his feelings for Max was much more pleasant than being overwhelmed by the pressure of knowing an assassin was after him and his death would cause a war, so perhaps his brain really was starting to go back to normal a little. At least enough to pretend like it to the others, anyway.
“Maybe we should go down to breakfast now,” he said, a little reluctantly. Part of him wanted to just stay here with Max forever.
“Yes, I suppose we should…” It sounded like Max was just as reluctant as he was. The thought sent his heart into loops. It was still hard to believe that Max loved him back, out of all people, out of all possibilities. That was one positive thing in a sea of negativities.
All of a sudden, Max held the sides of his face and pulled him into a kiss – a soft, lingering one, so sweet he was sure his brain was melting, and despite how long it lasted it just wasn’t enough.
“I love you,” Max whispered, before taking his hand and pulling him out of the door and towards the dining hall.
Kim was a little too catatonic to say “I love you too”, so he just let himself be pulled along by his sweetheart, trying not to stare, failing miserably, falling into a hopeless lovesick daze. Drowning in his love for Max was so much more preferable to drowning under an ocean of pressure and responsibilities.
Oh… thank goodness for Max. Thank goodness for all his friends. Maybe, with their help, he really could survive this.
#eating chocolate while posting this particular chapter was probably a bad idea#royalty au#miraculous ladybug#le chien kim#max kante#alix kubdel#alya cesaire#kimax#random stuff#the misadventures of prince kim#aish writes
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Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 8
summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.
here is it! the last part! please let me know if its too corny lol. epilogue will be posted either this week or next.
couples notes: 1. i don’t know anything about childbirth aside from what google taught me so i apologize for any wrong info! 2. i’m sorry this story was pretty short lol ya girl is doing the best i can😅 3. i wanna throw a couple quick thanks now and then the rest when i post the epilogue.
first of all i wanna send a thank you to @hannahmb who let me bounce ideas off her, gave me feedback, listened to me complain about not knowing where to go with the chapters and also, helped name baby tkachuk! so thank you hannah! you rock 🖤
i wanna thank @notanotherhockeyblog95 for also listening to me whine about not knowing what to write 😂 also, for giving me loads of encouragement and letting me throw ideas at her! you’re the best!!🖤
anyways here’s part 8! i hope you guys like it and thanks again for reading<3
word count: 2.3k
warnings: none
Part 8
41 weeks
“Matty. Wake up.” You whisper, shaking his shoulder in attempt to wake him. He doesn’t budge so you pull the blankets off him in hopes that it might work but again, he doesn’t move. It’s quite disappointing considering you’re now five days past your due date and if you were in labor, he won’t wake. Luckily, Chantal is sleeping just down the hall. After many conversations, you and Matthew agreed that it was probably a good idea to have her stay with the two of you in case you were to go in labor while Matt was playing a game. Yes, you had friends around but it comforted you much more having Chantal here because she’s went through this before.
With one last look at Matt, you roll out of bed and waddle like a duck, because that’s what you looked like according to Matt and Brady, to the kitchen. You were trying to wake Matt up because you felt like a snack but you didn’t feel like getting out of bed.
You’re digging through the freezer for some ice-cream you’re sure Brady had bought when he last visited when you feel the first cramp. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’ve been having some braxton hicks contractions on and off over the past few weeks, some feeling real enough that you went to the hospital only to be sent home which was very embarrassing even though Chantal told you it happens all the time. It wasn’t exactly the fact that you got sent home that you felt embarrassed about, but that Matthew left practice because he thought you were in labor. You just thanked your lucky stars that it wasn’t while he was in the middle of a game because it would’ve been ten times worse.
So you brush it off, cheering silently when you find the tub of chocolate ice-cream, idly wondering if it’s weird to eat it in bed at three o’clock in the morning. You decide it’s not, walking back to the bedroom and crawling in bed. You sit up against the headboard and grab the PS4 controller so you can put Netflix on since you know you won’t be falling asleep any time soon.
Matt rolls over and throws and arm over your legs and nuzzling his face in your side halfway through an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. It’s gives your belly a weird feeling again, not pain this time but something else. Something a little unsettling because you haven’t felt this particular feeling in quite some time.
You’re pretty sure you’re in love with Matt which makes you equally frightened as it does happy. You’ve realized that your hatred for him stemmed from that one night when he did something to make you angry when your breakup with your ex was so fresh and you were emotionally vulnerable.
Just like Johnny had told Matt good things about you, he’s mentioned things about Matt to you, obviously in hopes that the two of you would hit it off. It gave you a little hope that despite what you had heard from some of the girls, he wasn’t that bad of a guy which you know is true now.
Your only problem now is that you have no idea how strong his feelings are for you. Part of you is afraid that what he does feel is only from seeing you carrying his child. You know what he told you at the baby shower, that he liked you since you met but you still can’t shake the feeling that maybe what he feels for you might just be temporary.
That one day he’s going to wake up and decide that he doesn’t want you the way he does now and it breaks your heart thinking about it.
“You’re crying.” Matt mumbles and you look down to see him now wide awake. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t realize that you were crying and you can’t wait for the day when everything doesn’t make you cry like a baby.
“I’m fine.” You say, swiping the tears away. “It’s the show.” This is a lie because you haven’t been paying attention to the show for about five minutes.
He looks at the TV and then looks back at you with an eyebrow raised. “It’s a sex scene. Something you been wanting to tell me?”
He has a tiny smirk on his face and it’s temping, it really is, but you shake your head and try to come up with some other excuse.
“My ice-cream melted.”
“Do you want more?” He frowns, sitting up and it drives you insane sometimes, how willing he is to do anything for you at any given time.
“No, I just -” you sigh, putting the tub on the night table. “I’m tired.”
You know it’s a lie and so does he but he doesn’t push like he normally would. You let him tug you down so you’re laying on your side and he’s wrapped around you, hand resting on your belly and face tucked in your neck.
“What about Jasper?” He whispers and you smile.
“I like it.” You tell him and he nods.
“We’ll put it on the list.”
. . .
It’s later that evening and you’ve been having what you’re telling yourself are braxton hicks contractions all day. You refuse to go back to the hospital already because you know you’ll just get sent home again. Besides, Matty has a game tonight and you’re determined to go because it’s the last game of the season. The Flames won’t make the playoff’s this year and you know Matt is upset about it but he said that what’s more important is that he’ll be here for when and after the baby is born.
His words made you fall in love with him a little more.
You and Chantal arrived at the arena early enough that you can go down to see Matt while she finds your seats. You text him when you’re outside the locker doors and he looks happy when he walks out to see you. You can see the hint of disappointment that tonight is the last game until next season but he smiles at you anyway.
“How’s Jasper?” He asks, resting a hand on your stomach.
“I don’t remember agreeing to that name.” You tease and he shrugs.
“Jasper Tkachuk. Has a nice ring to it.” He says, giving you a soft smile. He looks like he wants to say something else but somebody yells his name and you know he has to go.
He smiles apologetically. “I’ll come find you after the game.”
You nod, letting him kiss you before heading back to the locker room. You find your way to Chantal in the stands, trying to ignore the way the braxton hicks contractions won’t go away. There’s a small part of you that knows you shouldn’t be brushing them off but now really isn’t the time for you to go into labor.
You can’t hide the winces from Chantal though because halfway through the first period, she frowns.
“How long have you been having them?”
You wince when another one washes through you. It’s much closer to the last one.
“Since this morning?”
“Y/N.” She scolds gently but firmly.
“It’s his last game! I don’t want to miss it.”
“Honey, you’re in labor.”
When those words leave Chantal’s mouth, it feels like somebody smacked you because it’s suddenly so real.
“C’mon. Let’s get to the hospital.” She says, helping you out of your seat.
“Matt-”
“We’ll get a message to him.” she assures you. “he won’t miss it.”
. . .
As you watch the game from your hospital bed, Chantal paces around the room on her phone trying to talk to someone who can get a message to Matt.
Your water broke shortly after you and Chantal arrived at the hospital and you know how quickly things can progress so you’re terrified that he won’t make it in time. You know that it’s something that the two of you had talked about early on, in the case that he was on a road trip and wouldn’t be here but knowing that he is here but you can’t get a hold of him, is hard.
“I know it’s an unusual situation.” Chantal snaps. “Figure it out.”
When she ends the call, she sighs and presses a hand to her forehead. You know how stressed she is about the situation but when she turns to you, there’s a gentle smile on her face.
“He’ll be here.”
You admire her attempt at trying to reassure you but you know that you need to get yourself in a good mindset to be okay if he’s not here.
“Did you call Becca?” You ask, hoping for at least some good news.
“Yes, she’s on her way.”
A little bit of good news. Finally.
You start to ask if she’s called anyone else but a nurse comes in the room to check you. When she tells you it shouldn’t be much longer, your heart sinks, realizing that Matt’s probably not going to make it here in time.
“I just got word that Matthew Tkachuk will be out for the rest of the game.” you hear Elliotte Friedman say and your head snaps up. You forgot that the TV was still on and it’s now intermission. “I didn’t see him get injured during the game, Chris. Did you?”
“No, and he didn’t take any major penalties. Maybe we missed something.”
Your heart leaps when you realize that he’s probably left the game because someone got the message through to him and you’re proven right when your phone buzzes and his name appears on the screen.
“Matty.”
“Hey, baby.” he says in a rushed voice. “I’m on my way to the hospital, okay?”
“Yeah?” You sniffle, knowing you’re going to cry.
“Yeah.” He promises. “Fifteen minutes, okay?”
He stays on the phone with you until he reaches the hospital and even until he reaches your room.
He takes Chantal’s place on the chair next to your bed as soon as he walks in.
“Ready?” He asks, taking one of your hands in his and pressing his lips to it.
“Not really.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood because you’re scared out of your mind. Your entire life is about to change but when you look at Matt sitting next to you, eyes kind and warm and with the smile on his face, you know you can do just about anything with him by your side.
. . .
“I guess we need to pick a name now, huh?” Matt whispers, cradling the baby in his arms. He was natural from the moment he held him and it was like your heart exploded. If you thought you loved Matt before, you know that you love him now.
“What about Henry?” You ask, watching him walk around, bouncing the baby gently.
His mouth turns up in a tiny smile. “I love it.” Then he looks up at you and tilts his head a little as if he’s coming to a realization.
“What?”
He shrugs, looking back down at Henry before walking over and sitting on the bed next to you. He lets you take the baby out of his arms so you can nurse him.
“I just realized something.”
“And what’s that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow when he smiles.
“I love you.” He says easily and when your eyes start watering, he just laughs gently. “I love you so much it’s crazy.”
“Really?” You ask and he nods.
“Really.” He grins and you can’t help but laugh when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and waves it in the air.
“Now, shall we make this Instagram official?” He asks and you roll your eyes fondly.
“You’re such a dork.”
“But you love me.” He says and you smile, pulling him close enough so that you can kiss him.
“I really do.”
#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk fanfiction#matthew tkachuk#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#matthew tkachuk imagines#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#calgary flames imagines#calgary flames fanficton
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OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) YohaRiko
Again, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. About all of my flagships. And I wanted to answer all of the questions. And not wait for a handful to maybe be asked.
Anyway, credit again goes to @lonelypond for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.
Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.
And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for Happy Life, and to a lesser degree the AU, both for scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.
1. Who wakes up first?
Riko. Yohane is very much not a morning person, especially after a late night of streaming.
2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?
Yohane. See above. However, if she doesn’t have time commitments for the day, Riko may occasionally want to stay in bed for some activities other than sleeping.
3. Who takes longer getting ready?
Either, though they are fond of getting ready together and helping one another, so in these cases, they’re done at the same time.
4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?
Yohane has many rituals for inducing sleep involving all manner of meditation, incense, herbal tea, topical rubs, nightmare wards and more. Whether or not they work is up to debate, but Riko is comforted by the sentiment, as portrayed in Dream Warden. Yohane herself takes comfort from being near those she loves, particularly Riko, while she sleeps.
5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?
Yohane, though it depends on the type of movie.
6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?
More often Riko, though Yohane does enjoy watching a sleeping Riko from time to time.
7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?
Yohane. 100% Yohane. And she is well aware of how cheesy they are. And she knows how much Riko loves them.
8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?
Yohane gets competitive over games in general.
9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?
Yohane is more likely to do so, though Riko can be absentminded on occasion.
10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?
Yohane.
11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?
Both have their reasons for their particularness in displaying their shelving; Riko likes to be able to quickly locate her favorite doujin while Yohane is considerate of the background for her ritual streams.
12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?
Yohane. With as many different attempts at different voices and accents as she can.
13. Who points out a dog when they see one?
Early on, both, though for different reasons; Yohane out of excitement and Riko out of fear. Later, Yohane retains her excitement while Riko becomes more lax in her reactions.
14. Who’s prone to road rage?
Yohane.
15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?
Either
16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?
Yohane knows she burns easily and is pretty good at remembering, though Riko is mindful that her girlfriend can be careless at times.
17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?
Riko.
18. Who gets the window seat?
Probably Yohane. Likely accompanied by some statement about missing being able to fly under her own power.
19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?
Yohane.
20. What do they argue about the most?
Early after moving in together, Yohane had a bad habit of bringing home stray pets, despite it being against the policy of the apartment complex, as depicted in Hibagon. These arguments subsided once the policy was changed, as depicted in Phobetor.
21. Who’s clumsier?
Yohane, though Riko certainly has her moments.
22. Who texts more often?
Yohane.
23. Who is better with kids?
Yohane is better at keeping kids entertained with her antics while Riko is better at tending to their care, be it feeding them, calming them down when they’re upset or applying first aid; Yohane is pretty good with first aid as well, having had far too much practice on herself.
24. Who’s the better cook?
Debatable. As I mentioned in the Notes for A Roost for Weary Wings, Yohane is capable of producing higher quality results, but also fails more spectacularly. Riko may lack the skills and confidence to produce highly extravagant meals, but she is far more consistent in producing edible food.
25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?
Riko. Despite what one may assume from my prior answer. Yohane will still eat it, not only because she has a strange sense of taste, but also because her beloved Riri made it for her and she will be damned before letting it go to waste.
26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?
Possibly Yohane.
27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?
Yohane.
28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?
Definitely Yohane.
29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?
Yohane. She’ll even bring her own spoon, as depicted in Valentine’s Taste Test.
30. Who likes doing the dishes?
Riko doesn’t mind it. Yohane dislikes it but is willing to balance the workload after Riko cooked.
31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?
For food, especially exotic or exceptionally spicy food? Yohane. Although she does have a bit of a sweet tooth, as her favorites would imply. For enacting scenes from her favorite doujinshi with her girlfriend? Riko.
32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?
Both, though for slightly different reasons. Riko believes it is romantic to know certain things about one’s partner. Yohane believes it is the duty of a fallen angel to know such things about their little demons… or fellow angels?
33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?
Yohane will often eat too fast and give herself a headache. Her favorite flavors are those of her favorite foods, chocolate and strawberry. Riko eats slower, more often out of a sundae dish than a cone, in part because a dish is better for eating at her pace, but also because it’s easier for Yohane to “steal” a bite or two. She enjoys Yohane’s favorites, but is also fond of mint and vanilla.
34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?
Absolutely. Riko prefers going to museums or orchestra performances, though she has dragged Yohane to several doujin stores over the years. Yohane prefers higher energy environments like amusement parks, though she has dragged Riko to several gothic Lolita clothing stores and occult shops over the years. Both girls look forward to events like Comiket.
35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?
Riko smells the slightly sulfuric scent of boiling eggs her parents made often while she was growing up, the clean, salty air of Uchiura, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory. Yohane smells sweet black lilies, the lingering smoke from a myriad of incense that always permeates occult shops, and a spicy, sweet and earthy scent to which she cannot match a specific memory.
The last scent for both is an idea I had while Googling random stuff for this question. It’s basically how one website describe the smell of Dragon’s Blood resin when burned as incense. I want to bring it up in a scene or two in both HL and HL(AU), though there will be a difference between the kinds found here on Earth and up in Heaven, which may end up as a minor connecting plot point.
I realize this leaves Riko without something that she knows is directly related to Yohane, but I was trying to avoid using incense too much, as it already had three entries between them. Also, it technically is related to Yohane, she just doesn’t realize it right away. I’m hoping whatever I write someday will make that connection for her. Not that she’ll ever smell Amortentia in HL, but…
36. Which one is the secret snuggler?
It’s no secret that Yohane loves her snuggles. Riko is quieter about her desires, but can be quite insistent, nonetheless.
37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?
Riko. Yohane is far more vocal about her discomfort, especially when it comes to temperature.
38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?
Riko is more likely to do so, though Yohane might as well. That said, I don’t believe I have them owning a vehicle in HL, so this probably won’t come into play anytime soon in my works.
39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?
Riko, as the more consistent cook of the pair, she is more likely to make their lunch bentos for the day. (Bonus: What does it say?) Casual reminders of her love for her Yocchan.
40. Who is the most affectionate?
Both are quite affectionate, though Yohane is far more likely to initiate, especially in public though even in private.
41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?
Riko is most often the big spoon. Though Yohane might try to have one believe elsewise.
42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?
Riko loves Yohane’s smile when she is passionate about something, be it her streams or games or whatever. Yohane loves the way Riko’s fingers dance across the keyboard.
43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?
Yohane becomes increasingly aware of Riko’s behavior and attitude toward Chika and has to make a conscious effort to avoid holding anything against the idol group’s leader; she likes Chika as a friend, after all, and is thankful that she brought her into the group in the first place. Riko starts to include Yohane in her fantasies.
44. What are their nicknames for each other?
Yocchan and Riri
45. Who worries the most? Over what?
Riko is constantly concerned that Yohane’s abysmal luck will eventually cause her actual harm, as in more than just catching a cold or getting a scrape or small cut. Yohane also fears that her abysmal luck will adversely affect Riko.
46. Who initiates kisses?
Yohane all the time, in public and in private. Riko, in private.
47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?
Yohane said it first in Revelations.
48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?
That’s actually a good question. I haven’t decided yet for this ship. I mean I have plans for revealing that the blonde Mari knows, but as for the couple actually telling people… hrm… Off the top of my head, I’d be more likely to say Yohane.
49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?
Both are quite capable of entertaining themselves without the other. Riko can play the piano and Yohane can play her games until their fingers cramp if they are not actively doing something together. And they have Phobetor and Prelude to pet and take on walks and play with. It’s not until bedtime that they become more aware of the other’s absence.
50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?
Depends. Yohane is more the emotional rollercoaster and could easily be overwhelmed by kindness from the girl for whom she held a one-sided crush for far too long. Riko is also likely to moved, though more through something that fits into some trope she loves in her doujin; good thing Yohane can be quite genre-savvy when she wants.
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Another Day in Hell || Part 2
.....uh....i can explain.
except i really, really can’t. fuck.
note: this is not based on The Walking Dead. i haven’t seen the show, but i’m thinking about maybe starting to get a few ideas because i have no idea what the fuck i’m doing.
another note: the need for code/nicknames will be explained in the next chapter or possibly the one after.
also: part 3 of Move Your Body will be posted tomorrow.
Read on AO3.
Ch. 1 || Ch. 2 || Ch. 3
It was a struggle, but after Kagome fell asleep, Inuyasha finally managed to tear his gaze away from her after an embarrassing amount of time – long enough that had she been aware, he was fairly confident she would had called him a creeper for it – and went about tidying the space for lack of anything better to do. Well, better than standing there like an idiot for an undetermined amount of time gawking at the slumbering woman in his bed. Not only would she call him a creeper, but he’d feel like one so that was off the list of things to do, so distracting his mind with meaningless cleaning it is.
It wasn’t very large, perhaps the size of the standard studio apartment, the walls were brick, the floor was cement, and it suited Inuyasha’s needs perfectly. Sure it was chilly more often than not, it smelled funny, and sometimes he saw a rat or two, but none of that ever bothered him and besides, it was better than nothing. And he was proud of his little shelter. He’d transformed it from a wrecked and dirty building into a safe zone, using what he had at his disposal to make his life a little easier. It was only a bonus that it had working plumbing and untouched food and supplies in the back, suggesting that he had been the only one to survive long enough to venture further in and discover it all.
He had found the place a couple months ago and claimed it as his own, eliminated all the undead inside, dragging their bodies outside in front of the shop, and making a clear statement that this particular shop was off limits. It worked for the most part; occasionally he’d get the odd demon sniffing around for shelter or a curious human searching for supplies, but he always managed to chase them off or if he had to, maim or kill. Humans that had lost their sanity and regressed into nothing short of a slaughtering madman were nearly just as rampant as the undead fuckers that walked around with a hunger for human flesh and he’d eliminated his fair share of them.
Inuyasha hadn’t lied to Kagome earlier; he really hadn’t killed another human unless they tried to kill him first. He didn’t like killing needlessly, especially when there were so few demons and humans left after the world went down the shitter and became a living hell. It was a dog eat dog world – he fucking hated that analogy if he were being honest, but it was accurate – and Inuyasha did what he had to do to survive. It was never easy, it was by no means pretty, but it was necessary and he’d accepted that long ago.
Often Inuyasha wondered that if it hadn’t been for his friends, he would have gone down a very similar path as the human murderers and allow his demon blood to overwhelm him, turning him into a bloodthirsty creature with no remorse and no mercy. It was a terrifying thought so he never dwelled on it for long, merely shaking his head and offering his silent gratitude to whoever would listen.
Stooping to grab Tessaiga up off the floor and shove it back into his belt loop, Inuyasha sighed and started collecting the trash to take to the dumping site tomorrow, tossing the bloody rags, Kagome’s ruined shirt, and plastic bags he’d filled earlier in the week with miscellaneous rubbish into the bin. He’d learned the hard way that leaving bloodied clothing and rotting food outside behind the shop attracted all kinds of creatures with a keen enough nose to smell it. After dispatching a hoard of investigating deadies for the fourth time in a single week he’d decided enough was enough and started dumping his trash into a large pit about a mile’s walk away.
Pausing, Inuyasha turned to glance at his occupied bed once more and frowned. He never minded the walk, and most of the time even preferred it, but perhaps this time it would be a smart idea to use the ATV. He kept it hidden and hardly ever used it because gas was a precious commodity, but the thought of leaving Kagome alone for any stretch of time unsettled him. He didn’t like the idea of taking her with him either, especially with a useless arm, but at least if he left her here she’d be safe and he’d only be gone for a maximum of ten minutes anyway.
Kagome sighed and shifted in her sleep, a little frown puckering her brow briefly before it smoothed out and she settled down again. Realizing he was staring, Inuyasha once more tore his gaze away and decided he should go over inventory to see what he needed.
Growling at himself, he grabbed the notebook he used to keep tabs on inventory and started with his weapons stash first. Ammo was a given and he jotted that down, for his Glock and the rifle with the scope he kept on top of the bookshelf, used for long range shooting. He still had three boxes left for his Sig so he didn’t have to worry about that. He was running low on mineral oil for Tessaiga, though, so he added that.
Food wise, he was good on non-perishables, but made a note to get bags of ice, a case of water, and after a brief pause, more ramen. Medical supplies were stocked. Flicking a glance at the haphazard box of clothes, then to Kagome, he wrote down women’s clothes and other. He figured she’d tell him what she needed so he didn’t bother listing any feminine products, and he was counting on Sango or Ayame maybe having a few things they could donate. He had no idea how long she’d be staying with him or even if she would – he didn’t know her story, if she’d been separated from family or what – so for now he thought it safe to assume she’d be staying for a while, which meant eventually she’d be meeting everybody after she was healed and had regained her strength.
Inuyasha grunted and scanned his list, idly tapping the pen against the notebook. Matches, lighter fluid, gasoline, firewood, and blankets he was good on, but he marked off flashlights and batteries as a critical need. He checked how much was left of the ingredients for homemade bombs – the things were incredibly useful when going up against massive hoards of undead – and added those to the list. He’d gotten lucky yesterday and found a bag filled with toiletries and other random items that he knew the girls would appreciate so he crossed that off his list.
Looking it over one last time, Inuyasha conceded that all in all it wasn’t that bad. The items most difficult to retrieve would no doubt be the ammo and water, but Inuyasha wasn’t afraid to play dirty if he had to. It was a kill or be killed world, and he’d be damned if he was offed by one of those undead fuckers or a mere human with a possessive streak.
“Fuck my life,” Inuyasha muttered as he dropped the notepad onto the table and wandered over to the washer-turned-cooler to grab a beer.
Alcohol was also a rare commodity, but he was lucky enough to have an entire back room full of the stuff. He wasn’t a huge drinker to begin with – getting drunk during these times was dangerous and just downright foolish – but every once in a while he didn’t mind kicking back with a cold one, take a moment to breathe and thank god that he’d survived another day.
Kagome chose that moment to make another soft sound in her sleep and Inuyasha found himself once more staring at her as she grunted before abruptly rolling onto her stomach, squirming around and wrapping her good arm around the pillow then going still.
Inuyasha stared, cursed, and then abruptly gave up, stomping over to the puke-green armchair and plopping down with a heavy sigh. Stretching his legs out and getting comfortable, he uncapped his brew, knocked back a few mouthfuls, and settled back into the worn cushion as he propped his head in his hand and crossed his booted feet at the ankles.
Kagome... His eyebrows dipped into a thoughtful frown as he studied her, claws idly tapping against the chilled glass of his beer. Her face, relaxed in slumber, was directed toward him and his eyes tracked her features, to her small nose, delicate jaw, and full lips. Despite looking a right mess, her hair a tangled mop on her head, dirt smudged onto her skin along with dried blood, she still managed to look beautiful to him. She was trim, physically fit, and she’d weighed hardly anything when she’d been in his arms. He recalled the deep brown of her eyes, fathomless pools of rich chocolate that glittered with an odd mix of apprehension, confusion, and relief when she gazed at him.
Taking another swig, Inuyasha wondered what she had been through before they’d met. She’d told him about the psycho with the gun, but what about before that? Where was her family? Were they even alive? Did she have any friends? Why was she alone without any means of protecting herself? How the hell had she survived for so long?
He had so many questions and he’d wanted to bombard her with them tonight, but after seeing how exhausted she was, nearly falling asleep sitting up, he’d decided they could wait so she could get the rest she so desperately needed. He surmised she’d sleep for a good ten hours or so, and in the meantime he should probably catch some z’s himself, but with his mind a whirlwind of activity, he doubted he’d be getting any sleep tonight.
Inuyasha had no idea why he brought her back here. Well okay, that wasn’t entirely true; while his enemies and even at times his friends had called him many less than positive names, he wasn’t a heartless bastard. He hadn’t been about to leave a helpless woman alone, obviously frightened for her life, to a hoard of hungry zombies – and possibly her psycho trigger-happy friend that gave her that hole in her shoulder – when there was something he could do about it.
But still, it had been an impulse, a last second decision, and during the single hour he’d known her he’d been wondering if he was going to regret it. Aside from the obvious of whether or not he could trust her, he’d just loaded onto himself and the others another mouth to feed, a liability because he was pretty damned sure she knew jack shit about defending herself for wielding any sort of weapon.
That could change, though. He could teach her. Show her how to hold and aim a gun, how to brace herself, even teach her a few basic self-defense moves after she was back to full health. She would be a quick learner, Inuyasha surmised. Kagome had the drive to survive, a strong enough spirit to hold her own, and a fierce determination he’d caught a few glimpses of in her eyes. So he could turn that liability into an asset, train her, show her the ropes and he knew without a doubt that she would fit right in to their merry little band of misfit fighters.
And therein lay the crux of the problem because Inuyasha didn’t do that shit. He didn’t train people how to fight, how to accurately protect themselves, how to hold a goddamn gun or block an attack. He may own a goddamn dojo dedicated to teaching martial arts, but that didn’t mean he taught any of the students enrolled.
He knew what the others said about him and, hell, he agreed. He was temperamental, defensive, anti-social, and his patience was notoriously limited, so training somebody like Kagome, who looked like she hadn’t roughhoused a day in her life, would not be a good idea. No, he left that up to Miroku and Sango, his instructors that worked for him. Well, used to, before the world went to hell in a hand basket.
Yeah, sure, he could have someone else do it. Inuyasha was positive he could drop her off at S and S, explain the situation, and then go about his usual business of being a temperamental grump and avoiding everyone. She’d be in good hands; Sango and Ayame would immediately bond with her since they always complained about being the only two women among their group of twelve. They were talented fighters and he trusted them wholeheartedly to have his back in a fight.
The thing was, though, while he trusted everybody impeccably in their group to have his back – and yeah, even his bastard of a half-brother – for some stupid ass reason having somebody else train and teach Kagome didn’t sit well with him. It was completely asinine, but he only trusted himself to teach her how to properly protect herself, how to punch, kick, aim, block, know when to dive in, and when to retreat.
It made no goddamn sense. He didn’t have time in his day to devote to training somebody, and yet the thought of anybody else doing it, getting that close to her, even if it was Sango or Ayame, had his chest tightening and a growl to well in his throat. It wasn’t a secret that Miroku’s hands wandered, and fucking Kouga thought he was god’s gift to women. The girls would spend more time gossiping than training, the runt was too young, Sesshomaru was an asshole – when he actually bothered t show up, anyway, and wasn’t off doing his own thing – and Ginta and Hakkaku were idiots.
So no, it had to be him. And besides, he’d been fighting since he was a brat and had plenty experience. Kagome would be in good hands with a competent instructor like himself, and no, that wasn’t arrogance. Damn wolfshit had enough of that to cover everybody in their group ten times over. Besides, he was the one that found Kagome, so she was his responsibility. He would make sure she knew what to do during an ambush, what to look for, teach her every survival trick and tip he knew, and he’d make damn sure could protect herself.
Of course, the whole goddamn thing would be moot if she didn’t stay. There was a chance, after she was fully healed, she’d say thanks and go back to wherever she’d been staying before, maybe with family or friends, and why wouldn’t she? He was a stranger and sure, he’d saved her ass, but she didn’t know anything about him, just like knew virtually nothing about her other than her name, her age, and that she’d been an office worker. Inuyasha didn’t even know if she’d volunteer any information other than that when asked – it was clear she had some trust issues, with good reason – and it annoyed him that he knew so little about her, which was fucking ridiculous.
He’d just met the damn woman, of course he knew jack about her, and she was in no condition to share her life story anyway. And he told himself that it made sense, that he accepted the fact that she’d have to find out for herself whether or not he could be trusted beyond treating her wounds and providing safety while she slept, but he knew it was more than that.
For some fucking reason this tiny slip of a woman, within the simple hour he’d known her, Kagome Higurashi had managed to get under his skin, the urge to protect someone else other than himself roaring through him stronger than it ever had before. Maybe it was how she’d looked when he’d first found her; bloody, frail, and looking and smelling utterly terrified before her flight or fight response kicked in and she bolted from him, but whatever it was, Inuyasha found that he...didn’t entirely mind the thought of her hanging around. It had been instinctive, to go after her, a primal and purely male part of him screaming protect and he’d thoughtlessly obeyed.
And now Inuyasha was wondering if maybe it would be better if she didn’t stay and what was even worse, he really, really hoped that she did.
“Fuck my life,” he groused again, just barely above whisper, and finished the rest of his beer with several deep pulls.
The radio on the table crackled to life and Inuyasha was already standing it up to retrieve it when a familiar voice spilled from the speaker.
“Monk to Ash, come in.”
Ears flattening and darting a quick look to the slumbering woman on the bed, Inuyasha snatched up the radio and depressed the switch.
“Copy,” he murmured into the mic and with one last look toward Kagome, he started heading toward the ceiling doorway. “Standby.”
He didn’t receive a reply but hadn’t really expected to as he reached up and with a hard shove, pushed the door open. The ceiling was just low enough so he could grasp the edge and haul himself up into the square opening with minimal difficulty. Instead of standing, however, he settled on the edge and let his leg dangle inside while he braced the other on the floor, knee bent as he leaned back on his hand and brought the radio to his mouth once more.
“Ash to Monk, what’s your twenty?”
“S and S,” the voice responded a second later and Inuyasha relaxed. “Back at you.”
“The shop,” Inuyasha replied. “Status.”
“In one piece,” his friend said and added on, “you?”
“Stupid question.”
A low chuckle came over the speaker and Inuyasha had to grin.
“Glad to hear you’re still alive, asshole,” Miroku, aka Monk, told him and the half-demon snorted. “You know it wouldn’t hurt to check in every other day or something. We worry about you.”
Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Don’t waste your energy. I’ve been doing this a helluva lot longer than any of you, idiot. And besides, checking in every other day will just drain the batteries for a pointless conversation that wouldn’t even last thirty seconds.”
“Yes, but that’s what the chargers are for.”
“Which uses electricity, which is only possible because the dojo has a private generator, which uses fuel to keep going, and as you know, fuel is scarce. Use your head, moron.”
He could practically hear his friend roll his eyes on the other end as he drawled, “I sincerely doubt that giving power to the chargers makes that much of a difference, Ash.”
“I’m not checking in.”
“I—”Miroku’s voice was abruptly cut off and then an irritated female voice came through the speaker, “Make the idiot happy and check in, asshole, because you know if you don’t, he won’t stop until you respond, thus draining the battery even more.”
Inuyasha scowled. “Fuck off, Slayer.”
“You know I’m right,” Sango, aka Slayer, replied and then must have handed the radio back to Miroku.
“I mean,” his friend said and the laughter was evident in his voice. “She’s not wrong.”
Suddenly tired of this conversation, Inuyasha abruptly changed topics. “Anything new to report?”
“Possibly,” Miroku replied and Inuyasha knew the fucker was grinning. Idiot. “Cane is out patrolling with Iris, Smokey and Bandit are on clean up, the lovely Slayer is sparring with Kid. However, I like to believe Rogue showing up out of nowhere to drop off Fawn and Toad before disappearing again raises a few red flags.”
Inuyasha frowned. “When?”
“Two days ago,” Miroku supplied and then because he knew the half-demon would ask, continued,“He didn’t provide an explanation and when I asked Fawn, all she said was he was looking into something. Toad wasn’t any help either but that’s not a surprise. It was very strange.”
Inuyasha had to agree. While it wasn’t uncommon for the bastard to wander for days on end without any word from him, it was unusual for him to go anywhere without Rin. Fiercely protective of the child, Sesshomaru didn’t trust anybody but himself to ensure her safety and so for him to leave her behind suggested something was up. Inuyasha would have to ask whenever the bastard deemed to grace them with his presence again, and that could be anywhere between a few days to a fucking month.
“Fucking fantastic,” Inuyasha grumbled and thrust a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “How’s Fawn?”
He was actually quite fond of the little ball of sunshine and it came to as shock to everyone that he was in turn one of her favorite people. And although it still boggled his mind why she preferred the asshole’s company to staying where it was safe with plenty of food, water, and a warm bed to sleep in every night, he’d long ago stopped questioning it because she’d always give the same answer, accompanied by a bright, genuine smile.
“I belong with Sesshomaru.”
He didn’t understand it, and probably never would.
“Seems fine. Playing with Scout,” Miroku replied. “She was very tired when she arrived, however, and I suspect that might be part of the reason why Rogue dropped her off before leaving. I’d imagine it’d be difficult to get enough sleep when one travels as much as your brother.”
“Half-brother,” Inuyasha automatically corrected, frowning. “Yeah, maybe. It’s that, or he’s going someplace where he deems is too dangerous to bring her with him. Anywhere outside is dangerous, though, so where the hell could he be going?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, my friend,” Miroku returned and the shrug was obvious in his tone.
The two lapsed into contemplative silence for several moments and Inuyasha was staring down into the square opening, wondering what the hell his bastard of a half-brother was up do, when the radio in his hand crackled to life again.
“Anyway,” Miroku said, sounding like his usual upbeat self, “how about yourself, Ash? Anything noteworthy happen?”
Inuyasha blinked at the radio then turned his gaze to the floor again, approximately where a certain dark-haired woman was sleeping peacefully beneath the shop. He grimaced.
“Monk,” he said dryly, “you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had today.”
“Oh?” His friend sounded genuinely interested, and with a sigh, Inuyasha recounted the day’s events to him, staring with last night when he’d found that bag of toiletries (“Oh, Slayer and Iris will be thrilled,” he’d opined) to how he’d brought Kagome back to the shop and treated her wounds. Because Miroku was his best friend and one of the few people he could trust with anything, he also expressed is doubts and concerns about the entire situation and he was grateful when Miroku listened attentively and didn’t interrupt.
When he was finished, Miroku didn’t say anything for several minutes and Inuyasha let him gather his thoughts as he stared listlessly at a pallet socked with cases of water that he’d compiled himself. He’d be bringing some of them back with him to S and S in about four or five days when Smokey and Bandit showed up to take this place.
The two-way crackled to life, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts. “You haven’t told her about us.” He didn’t sound accusatory or anything, but merely curious.
Inuyasha sighed. “No. I barely got her to eat something before she passed out from pain and exhaustion.”
“Do you think she’s dangerous? Can she be trusted?”
The half-demon actually snorted at that, recalling the weak punches she’d thrown at him while trying to escape earlier.
“Trust me, Monk,” he drawled, “she’s about as dangerous as a kitten.”
“Then I don’t see the harm in bringing her here,” his friend said, completely serious. “It sounds to me like she could really use some help, Ash. Even if she was separated from her family or friends, I wouldn’t feel right sending her back out there alone to find them herself so at the very least, we could assist her in locating them and escort her. And who knows? Maybe by doing so we can expand our band of merry misfits and get them to come back with us if where they are staying isn’t secured. The more people we have, the better chances of survival.”
“And the more mouths we have to feed and clothe and protect and shelter,” Inuyasha fired back without missing a beat.
“You don’t really believe that, Ash, so don’t try and tell me otherwise. I know you.”
The half-demon grimaced and didn’t bother to comment. Sango liked to tease him that he was nothing but a big softie and dammit, sometimes he thought she might be right. Scout and now Kagome was a prime example of that.
“Smokey and Bandit will be there in five days,” Miroku told him, accurately taking his silence for what it was. “In the meantime, and I know I don’t have to tell you this, but try and get some more information on her family and her thoughts on joining us. I presume you are going to be seeing to her training if she stays, yes?”
Inuyasha snorted into the mic.
Miroku laughed on the other end, but hit the switch on the two-way afterward so the half-demon didn’t hear it. “I thought so. Let me know so I can tell the others. I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to have another woman to talk to.”
Sighing, Inuyasha tipped his head and stared at the ceiling, golden eyes unseeing.
“Ash?” The two-way crackled. “Do you read?”
He hit the switch and raised it to his lips. “Yeah,” Inuyasha murmured and dropped his gaze back to the floor, seeing through it to the oblivious woman sleeping on the bed. “Yeah, I read you.”
“See you in five days, my friend.” A pause. “Try not to die before that, alright?”
Inuyasha’s lips twitched and he chucked, depressing the switch and returning, “Same to you, idiot. And tell Scout not to eat all my fucking ramen.”
Ch. 3
buy me a coffee? :)
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What doesn’t kill you
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
This is a weird mix of ABO, chimera!Ed, and the werewolf!Ed, I guess.
Ship: RoyEd
Summary: “You were on a mission,” Ed turns to Alphonse, who carries on with the explanation, “There was this alchemist messing with chimeras, Brigadier general Mustang sent you there to check, and apparently you got caught up in a transmutation.”
Oh. That would explain why Edward can’t remember the basement.
Rating: Mature (chances of turning n/s/f/w)
Warnings/tags: AU, Post fmab, Pining, Scenting, Taller!Ed jhagdcfjh, werewold-chimera!Ed
read on ao3
The first two weeks, Edward stays inside voluntarily, which is a surprise. Winry brought with her a provisory prosthetic that makes him ache in disgraceful places, so he refuses to ear it — and hopping around the streets is not exactly comfortable. Alphonse is, as always, the best brother ever and brings him books from the Central’s library. Someone from the team calls him from time to time. Not much else happens.
The rest of the month, however, with a new and fitting automail leg, is a constant struggle to adapt. Not that he’s resigned to his current transmuted form — a few extra centimeters don’t hurt, right? — but outside of his and Al’s flat exist many challenges. The overwhelming mix of scents is one, and his newly found hearing sensibility proves to be another. He can hear Alphonse’s breathing from the other side of the room and car horns make him flinch like a frightened animal.
Of course, there are a few other noteworthy changes. His reflexes are sharper — he’s become a master of picking falling things up before they hit the floor — and acquired a weird taste for undercooked meat. Sleeping is a mystery; either he sleeps too much or stays wide awake for days in a row without much trouble. Even the new height isn’t perfect after all, since he’s still not used to the new balance point and fuck spending money on new clothes.
And his discomfort isn’t taken seriously apparently, because no one lets him see the goddamned array.
It takes Mustang a bit to give Alphonse any information. One morning Hawkeye shows up at their doorstep and drags the younger Elric out. Since then, the two arseholes have been working on the alchemy alone, not even bothering to share any of their research. That obviously angers Ed to no end, that he is being kept in the dark even though he’s the only one who was affected by the transmutation. It’s not really safe for him to be around the General, yes, and he will not get into much details about that, but it’s not justifiable. Alphonse could at least give him an update. Or Mustang could stop being such a controlling freak and just pass the whole thing onto Edward — he could surely work it out way faster.
Instead, they leave Ed to his own devices — which are, basically, trying to not get angry at people for how they smell. He begins to catalogue scents to try to avoid that precisely. He’s mostly looking for a pattern: what he likes and what makes him uncomfortable, those that calm him and those that leave him on the edge of a rage outburst.
Winry’s is a bit like dark chocolate — bitter, but sugary. Edward would never admit to her that he enjoys it very much, or that it brings a protective feeling to his chest as it does. It’s pleasant, not as calming as Alphonse, though it never fails to remind him that, yes, he does have a place to call home.
Hawkeye, the only member of the team he’s seen besides Mustang, smells like apple pie. Shocking, too shocking, so shocking Edward lock himself up in his room to laugh for a good half-an-hour. He expected so many things for her, but the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods was not one of them.
Most of the neighbors have what Ed started calling background scents — like street noise, perhaps; it’s there but not enough for you to care. One day, while collecting the correspondence, he bumps into the lady that lives next door: he sniffs at her, notices the perfume that is inherently hers, and forgets it as soon as he gets home. Background scent. Not that they even meet enough for Ed to remember her name, for god’s sake.
But he must thank her because it’s that fateful encounter that helps him gather the courage to leave the building.
For the first attempt, he begs for Alphonse to accompany him. There’s no way to know how far the heightened olfaction fucked up his already fucked up social behavior, and Al has to help him with that since he refuses to explain him the transmutation. It’s only fair. They go at night — fewer people, less noise, fewer chances of sending Ed spiraling down into an anxiety attack.
And everything goes well.
Edward can barely contain his relief. Yes, he can smell drunkards almost a whole block away and can partially comprehend conversations taking place across the street, but so what? It’s a beautiful, breezy summer night and Ed is not even bothered in the slightest. From time to time, Alphonse frowns at the sky, but Edward brushes it off as the usual worrying.
The following morning Ed feels bold, so he goes alone and only a few hours before lunchtime. There are cars everywhere now and he flinches a couple of times, and by the third block, the scents start mix curiously. He no longer detects each specific smell, but rather a mix of many things, which he probably won’t ever be able to explain to Alphonse. Street scent, perhaps, as if city and inhabitants are an entity in and of itself, — and Ed feels it all at once.
Like a machine or a body, he muses, a bunch of pieces that can’t be separated ‘cause they’ll just stop working.
He goes back home an hour later and by the doorstep he is certain of what they’re having for lunch.
“You shouldn’t go out today.”
Edward glares at the only other person in the room, “And why the fuck you’re—“
“I mean it, Brother,” Alphonse lowers his notebook to properly look at the older Elric, “maybe you should keep it low this week.”
“‘M not tired.”
“I can see that but that doesn’t mean you’re fine,” Al snorts, “it’s pretty clear that you’re not fine.”
Which is true. All Ed has been doing since yesterday is walk around the flat, fidgety and hyperaware. He didn’t sleep a minute, instead going for a long, mindless walks — during one of those he almost attacked a cab driver; the guy was asking for it when he mistook Ed for a woman and catcalled him. He wants to go out again, his whole body is itching for it, he can’t stand being inside anymore, he’s been inside all day already
“I am fine,” he smiles, trying to reassure the other, “I’m great, actually. I feel like I could run a marathon.”
“Thank you for proving my point, it’s almost night, please, don’t leave the apartment.”
And Ed does agree with him, partially. He shouldn’t leave, not when he’s feeling this skittish — who knows what reactions a busier environment could bring. But the prospect of staying in makes him feel like a caged animal, and he can’t have that. So he brushes Al off with a half-assed promise that he’ll be back soon, and exists their home a bit too eagerly.
Lacking a destination, Ed is once again a wandering man. Not that this is a bad thing, no: Edward is more at home when he’s wandering. Be it a short circuit around the block or a trip across the country, his home has always been the path and not the destiny. There’s no better feeling than shoving your hands inside the pants’ pockets and looking for a thing that you don’t really know you need until you bump into it.
He buys an apple from a street vendor and eats in large, fast bites, cleaning his hands on his shirt afterwards. His feet take him far away from the flat, and Edward is a mere spectator who watches as streets pass by and are left behind. At Av. Marston Court, he takes a left, and that’s when the idea of checking a bookshop pops up in his mind. With surer steps, he makes his way to the one on the crossing, which sells used books for a very interesting price — ideal for when Ed plans to stock up reading material.
The place is filled with dusty boxes and dustier shelves, and Edward breathes in the delicious smell of mold and old books. In this specific store it’s stronger, and not because Ed’s newly found olfactory prowess, but rather because it is. Naturally, inherently. He leisurely strolls through the stacks, his eyes falling on covers and titles and author’s names but not searching for anything in particular.
And then his nose picks up—
—that.
It’s not as strong as the first time, but it still makes him freeze up mid-way through reaching for a book. The hairs of his nape stand on end, his back instantly goes straight, and every muscle of his body tighten. He can almost hear the loud thud of his heart, beating heard and fast as if trying carve a way out of Ed’s chest.
Roy, his brain provides uselessly, Roy Roy Roy—
He sniffs, trying to pinpoint the man’s location; in the store, yes, but where. Stumbling through the aisles, he has to refrain from running towards the alluring smell — but he does follow it, like an eager puppy, looking into each corridor aisle hopefully every turn he makes.
As Edward gets used to the scent, the intensity of his reaction decreases significantly. He halts, scolding himself for his behavior; what gives him the right to stalk Mustang like this, especially when his feelings are... platonic? Feeling his face burning, he lowers his head and slumps against a shelf, shame building up and insisting for him to leave as soon as—
“Fullmetal?”
“Not an alchemist anymore...”
Roy is over there, and then right by Ed’s side because of course he would have to get closer. The blue military jacket hangs from his forearm and he is holding a book with a grey paper cover — a novel, probably, and, although Ed has never been one to read fiction, he still wants to ask about it. And he looks good — even if he’s in those clothes Edward always sees — since there’s probably not a single moment in the man’s life he doesn’t.
“Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
”It’s been years now,” he snorts, “I know your old man memory makes it all harder, but it’s time for you to catch up already.”
The raven-haired man opens his mouth, and rapidly closes it again — instead of words, what comes out is laughter. A small huffed sound that Edward takes a moment to admire.
“What’s so funny, Mustang?”
“Nothing, it’s just— I was going to make a joke about your diminutive height, but I’m not entitled to that anymore.”
Ed’s grin is larger than the Drachman border, “Fucking finally.”
They’re eye to eye now. In fact, Edward is even a bit taller, but that might just be the angle — or biased by Ed’s strong desire to one-up Mustang in something. The blond breathes in deeply, letting that overwhelming scent warm him up deliciously; his knees go a bit weak and he blinks at Roy in an attempt to regain his focus.
“Do you feel well enough to go back to work now?” Roy asks, with worry furrowing his brows.
“...”
“It’s been almost four weeks now.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that, it’s just things have been kinda… complicated.” Ed has no idea if the slow nod Mustang gives him means more days off or simply acknowledgement, so he adds: “but I can go back whenever.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m feeling good and all that.”
Roy bites the corner of his bottom lip, “Yes, but I mean are you sure?”
Oh, Ed shivers, he’s talking about that.
To say Roy knows a thing about that, would be a blatant lie — Ed had been very quick to shout for Mustang to get out that day. Still, the thought doesn’t stop the spike of fear, and neither the annoyance burning its way through his throat. He has to remind himself to stay calm, that Mustang probably thinks Ed just gets uncomfortable with his scent, that Alphonse would never expose him in such way.
Ed sighs, and this time the warmth that comes with inhaling settles in his chest, cocooning itself like a small animal underneath his ribcage.
“It’s alright, I’m getting used to the whole hypersensitivity thing, it doesn’t bother me so much.”
For the smallest second, Ed is sure he sees—
—that flash of disappointment.
Yeah, that’s pretty stupid, isn’t it?
Their following exchanges’ themes orbit around work, as they always do. Mustang tells him about Havoc, who was in charge of all paperwork involving the infamous Major Elric and couldn’t wait for said Major’s return to get rid of it. Edward chimes in when he supposes necessary, which is almost never — and his answers are mostly monosyllabic. As they exit the shop, Roy offers him a ride home in one of the military cars and Ed refuses, leaving the man baffled when he says he’ll walk back home.
He hangs around him until the car arrives, and he tells himself it is to keep Mustang company, but…
No one would really blame him for being selfish just this once, right?
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On tokens, markets, and a path to a real-time economy
Two years ago on March 1, 2019, I posted a Letter to my future self to the Bitcoin blockchain. This is the story of that letter, one where I didn’t write a word, and how two years later, the dream is still alive. There is an actual path with tokens and markets to make utopia a reality, and my case for what that might look like.
About a month prior to March 1, 2019, I had privately begun telling my close friends, colleagues, and family that I was going to be making a significant career and life change and dedicate the next chapter of my career towards building exclusively for the Bitcoin SV blockchain. You can guess the confused looks and concerns people had about what it was I was doing. Did I lose my mind? To be fair, I still get those messages today. I knew what I had envisioned when I first read the white paper back in 2013 and somewhere along that journey, the crypto industry had taken a path that veered dramatically from the one I had imagined. With Bitcoin having course corrected twice already via hard forks, I wanted and needed a guiding compass - a North Star. That’s when I had the idea to write a letter to my future self.
I confided in one of my best friends, Jackie to help me write it. It was a busy month for me, my mind was all over the place and I needed help. Over two afternoons, I shared with Jackie what I wanted to say, what was the possible world that I imagined. To her I must have been repeating myself since she and many of my friends had heard this for a decade. The future would bring Proof of Work from a term to describe a computer science thing to one that would describe the workings of the entire global economy and drive a seismic shift in how value was created and how we humans would interact and cooperate with one another. I wanted her to include a thank you to some people who helped me along the way - titans of the industry whom I was fortunate to cross paths and work with. Jesse Powell, gave me my first job at Kraken. CZ hired me to OKCoin in 2014. Star believed in me and gave me so many growth opportunities. At Circle, I worked with my long time friend Dan, who would go on to create CMS. A few days later, Jackie sent me a draft. I was pretty shocked at first, thinking hey this doesn’t even say Bitcoin in it. Where are all the names I wanted to include. Then I read it another time and when she asked if I wanted any changes or if the approach was right, I said, “Let’s not change a single word”. It was different, it was exceptional, to me it was perfect. I sent the letter internally as part of my Circle resignation email, flew off to San Antonio with my parents to watch the retirement ceremony of my favourite basketball player Manu Ginobili, and then a month later on April Fools Day, RelayX was launched.
Having this Letter out there has served me well. Nobody could have expected the course of events of the past two years both within BitCoin, and the world at large. Politics, COVID-19, money-printing, delistings, court cases, you name it. Without it as an anchor, I might have lost sight of the bigger picture. If you would have asked me then what BitCoin would look like today, I would have predicted a 100x rosier picture than the current situation. Despite most of the boom in the cryptocurrency industry having not occurred on the Bitcoin SV blockchain, the rapid adoption of blockchain and digital currencies from NFTs to DeFi, to institutions putting BTC on the balance sheet shows the underlying movement is in full force. Just this week, I watched sharpshooter JJ Redick utter the words “non fungible token, and blockchain technology” on his podcast talking about NBA Topshot. That’s incredible.
In the letter are the words - “Your world will be frictionless and marked by truth, freedom and fairness. Your world will truly be one that is defined by human imagination and honest work.”
I am making the case for tokens as the critical solution to a real-time economy. I want to break the spell of the narrow definition of tokens that has bounded the Bitcoin SV ecosystem. For much of the past two years, there appears to be two camps in BSV when it comes to tokens. The dominant one being we want only regulated tokens, security tokens, tokens backed by real assets, with real utility, that real businesses and enterprises can use to make their businesses more efficient. The other, perhaps out of jealousy for what’s going on in other blockchains being let’s just port those Ethereum ERC20’s over and let it run wild for it might pump the BSV price! Funny thing is neither has happened as developers are busy debating whether tokens should be on layer 0 or layer 1 or layer 100 but that’s a topic for another day. Both views are myopic.
Tokens are going to be a much bigger deal on BitCoin than anyone might imagine.
How many websites are there on the internet? I looked it up recently and the answer is 1.7Bn. How many token contracts are there on the Ethereum chain? The answer is 350,000.
Websites are kind of hard to set up - you have to purchase a domain name, at least use a website template creator, and there isn’t that much use for getting one for the average person. Not when you can have an Instagram page, a Facebook account, a Twitter handle, a Medium blog without having your own site. Yet there are 1.7Bn of them! Ethereum tokens are prohibitively expensive mining fee wise to generate. Out of interest, I asked one of the devs who minted the original USDC contract during my days at Circle to find the transaction. It cost 0.44 ETH. At today’s prices that’s well over $500 to create a token. Yet there are 350,000 contracts!
I would wager there will be over 100Bn unique tokens on BitCoin and I’d guess higher but I don’t want to be outside the bounds of the very Overton window I’m creating.
It takes a few seconds to issue a token on BitCoin and at current mining fees, less than a tenth of a cent to issue. If I’m a store owner, I might issue a different gift card a week for the various deals I have going on. If I’m an artist, a different NFT for each piece of artwork. Neither the store owner nor the artist needs more than one website and you start to see the math.
If reading this, you still think tokens are going to be contained to some narrow definition of ‘security’ tokens, or NASDAQ like tokens, or fiat currency tokens, realise it’s like saying the internet will only have The New York Times or CNN or some licensed officially approved site. It’s ok if not every account on Instagram is world class photography. Not every Twitter account is going to be insightful (that’s clear) and that’s ok. In a world of 100Bn unique tokens, You bet there’s going to be a great deal of useless ones and a pretty large number of scams. Just like there are websites that are phishing for your passwords, websites with illegal content, and websites with viruses in them. Over time, services emerged to protect you by blocking, or warning you about potentially dangerous websites.
What’s the bigger picture and what do tokens have to do with a real-time economy? I’ve made the case for there being a ton of tokens. Does that mean it’s just going to be a Coinmarketcap with a lot more pages? An exchange with a lot more trading pairs? No, a lot more exciting than that.
A world with 100Bn tokens means every single asset, service, good, company, project, video, post and many more abstract things than one can imagine is going to have a dynamic, live price. It’s not about the tokens, it’s about the markets. Today, you visit a restaurant and you check Yelp to see if has a good review. BSV entrepreneurs are making some new review site but with reviews posted on the blockchain thinking this is the problem that needs solving. “Immutable reviews”. Much more valuable than a review or immutable review however is if this particular restaurant’s loyalty token is trading at a premium to the other one next door. There’s actually money on the line. Then after eating, instead of being a foodie with a blog and an Instagram to hype up such restaurant, if you’ve got that talent for knowing what’s going to be the next hot restaurant, you can just buy on the open market more of the restaurant’s tokens. Yes, a local foodie just became an crypto trader. Now you profit when you promote the restaurant on your blog. The chef who started that restaurant instead of using Groupon to attract an initial set of customers who have no loyalty to you, can instead issue 10,000 tokens, where each dish costs 100 tokens. Pretty soon if your food is delicious, those token prices are going to jump. Think Global, Live Local is not just going to do good, it’s going to now make you rich.
I grew up in a lower middle class first generation immigrant family. I remember being a teenager in those years where oil prices were very volatile as the world approached the idea of “Peak Oil”. We would sometimes drive by a gas station one day where prices were a few cents cheaper than the day before, and even though the tank was half full, we filled up. Other days, the warning light would be on, but we held off for another day to fill up the tank in hopes prices would come down. Is this speculation on oil prices bad? Another fun memory I had was going grocery shopping with my folks and my favourite cookies were the Chip Ahoy Crunchy chocolate. Eating those with milk is probably half the reason for my height. Once in a while they would be on sale but next to them were the No-Name brand versions of the same cookies. Chip Ahoys were definitely better but were they $2/100grams better? No. We would calculate every time to decide which we would buy. Is this speculation on cookie price bad? How come other goods and services in the economy didn’t fluctuate in price? That’s what’s always fascinated me. I knew they would if they could. With Bitcoin, it was possible.
Tokens on Bitcoin with the perpetual scaling design of Bitcoin where it isn’t the holder that’s rewarded (Proof of Stake) but rather those contributing to scaling the network (Proof of Work) will lead to the formation of markets where markets were too inefficient to exist - unlocking trillions of value in the process.
A fully tokenised economy makes everything efficient, fair, honest, and real-time. I don’t mean efficient like fast transactions or cheap mining fees. It’s the economy that will be efficient. You won’t need to be a big grocery chain or a big oil company or big tech company with financial analysts, and big data and machine learning folks in order to know what to set the price of a Chips Ahoy or a Gallon of oil or surge pricing on a taxi ride. It’ll be orders of magnitudes better than that and for every person on earth because it’s all going to be open, issuable, transferable, tradeable. You won’t be checking page 978,950 of Coinmarketcap. You won’t be scrolling to AHOY/USDT on an exchange. I predict all of this will happen without you realising that it did and all our lives will improve as a result.
For those who immediately think of the regulatory ramifications of this, I’ve thought the same. In 2015, while leading OKCoin, I led our initiative to become the first international benefactors of Coin Center - the industry body working with regulators and governments. I am a minority seed round investor in Chainalysis which looks for criminal activity onchain. I look forward to working with all those who would like to embrace innovation while having an eye on ensuring an orderly, legal transition to this future.
I could not be more excited to support the emerging token projects on BitCoin, through building products, investment, advice, or even in spirit.
Bitcoin is plumbing - just plumbing where billions of trades and speculation down to the satoshi will be happening every second.
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