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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Grounded pt3

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Scott, Virgil, Kayo, John

Next instalment. A bit shorter than the others, not quite 4k words, but I haven’t yet figured what direction it’s going in after this, so have what I’ve got so far. Vaguely proof read.

Part 1 | Part 2

A flash of blue and the spider was gone, stuck inside a jar he was fairly sure was supposed to contain medicine, but he wasn’t really looking at that. He was more interested in where the spider had been; he hadn’t noticed earlier, but it turned out that multiple falls and probably more importantly being bashed around underwater could wear neoprene down, just a bit. The sleeve was worn down, just a little, where the spider had stopped.

His arm flopped down, unwilling to stay extended any longer as something a little like pins and needles started.

“Scott!” Virgil cried again, catching his arm and scrutinising it closely. He saw the exact moment Virgil realised the neoprene was damaged as his usually tanned brother went sheet white. “Please tell me it didn’t get through.”

“While I’m really wishing I imagined the pricks, the pins and needles aren’t giving me much hope,” Scott admitted.

“There isn’t any more antivenom,” Kayo reminded them, her voice high with badly-concealed panic. Scott knew that, had been panicking about that same thing earlier when he’d realised Virgil had had a too-close brush with the spider.

“Well we’ll just have to- woah.” His attempt to reassure them was interrupted by his equilibrium taking a sharp shift, his head rolling down until he jerked it back up. Oh, that really wasn’t good. Nor was the fact that Virgil seemed like he had two-one-three heads, all looking at him in sheer horror. He blinked, trying to get the world to stop shifting in and out of focus.

There was a clunk, familiar but its cause escaping Scott, and then there were hands on the safety belt around his hips, yanking it open before warm arms scooped him up. He squinted up at Virgil’s face – faces, if the world could stop spinning and duplicating, triplicating things that would be really useful – as he found himself being laid down on, oh, that had been the clunk.

His bitten arm hung limply over the edge of the stretcher; it was uncomfortable but Scott didn’t even try to pull it up. Keep the bite below the heart, slow the venom’s spread as much as possible. Basic first aid.

Virgil moved back, away from his eyeline, and he realised what had been bothering him.

“Helmet,” he demanded. They didn’t know how many spiders there were; this made at least two to have invaded the Thunderbird. Virgil’s uniform was thicker than his, better padded against the heavy lifting he did, but the spider had been on course for his bare neck before he’d intervened. Kayo, too, needed to cover up.

There was a tugging on his arm, bracer unclipping and falling to the cockpit floor with a thud.

“No,” he protested, moving it out of reach and gritting his teeth when the movement burned. “Helmet first.”

“Scott-” Virgil started, but Scott shook his head. The movement made him feel nauseous.

“Helmet on,” he ordered. They had to, had to protect themselves against any more. “Please.”

Virgil hesitated, clearly torn between checking the wound and calming him down, but Kayo intervened.

“Here,” she said, placing Virgil’s helmet on his head without his permission. “Scott’s right,” she added, drowning out his protest. “If there are more, we can’t risk being bitten as well.”

“More?” Virgil asked, his voice strangled, and Scott realised he was panicking, hadn’t even realised the danger.

“I’ll do a full sweep of the craft,” Kayo told him. “You focus on Scott.”

“Careful,” Scott insisted, fixing the blur of duller blue he assumed was his sister with a look that was supposed to be commanding. Whether it came out that way, he didn’t know.

“I will,” she promised. “Worry about yourself.”

Worrying about himself meant first accepting what had happened, and Scott knew enough to know that panicking would do more harm than good, spiking his heart rate and pumping the venom round faster.

Virgil had reclaimed his arm and pulled his glove off while he was talking to Kayo, and a distinctive shiiiiip told him his sleeve was being cut away.

“John,” Virgil called, voice still tight with panic. “Thunderbird Five, I need you now.”

“What’s happened?” John’s voice was a welcome sound, calm and reassuring. All International Rescue here, we’ll fix your problem. He’d always been good at that. “Virgil, your heart rate’s unusually high.”

“I need antivenom for a Creeping Banana Spider bite,” Virgil bit out. Scott felt his sleeve peel away from his arm all the way up to his shoulder, exposing the site of the bite to the cockpit air. “Where can I get it?”

“What happened?” John repeated, some urgency slipping into his tone. Scott couldn’t see him, but he knew John would be pulling up every supplier in the world. “There-”

“Scott’s been bitten,” Virgil choked out. Warm neoprene gloves pressed against his elbow, near the bite, and Scott couldn’t help a gasp as pain flared up.

John didn’t swear, but Scott was fairly sure that if he was any less in control of the words that slipped from his mouth, he would have done.

“Okay,” he said instead, sounding like he was forcibly projecting an air of calm. “Rio hospital hasn’t got a new shipment yet. What’s the time frame?”

“Two minutes since the bite,” Virgil told him, his hand sliding down Scott’s arm to his fingertips and giving his hand a quick squeeze. It could have been for reassurance, but Scott recognised it as a test and squeezed back, gasping as he did so. “No signs of nerve damage yet, but he’s in pain and I don’t think he can see me properly.”

With Virgil down below his eyeline, he couldn’t see him at all without moving, and moving was probably a bad idea. Scott focused on breathing, keeping his breaths deep and regular and glad he’d already taken painkillers so his ribs weren’t kicking up a fuss as well.

His siblings would do everything in their not-inconsiderable power to get him the antivenom in time. He just had to trust them, and he did. He trusted his siblings with his life every time he went on a mission, and this was no different; the fact that he was literally going to die if they couldn’t save him did nothing but increase that faith.

“Head for home,” John said after a few moments.

“We don’t have antivenom at home!” Virgil protested. “If we don’t pick any up it won’t matter where we are!”

“Head for home,” John repeated, more forcibly. “There’s nowhere you could get to in time.”

“I’m not giving up!” Virgil spat. “There-”

“I said nothing about giving up,” John overrode him. “Trust me: head for home.”

Scott felt Virgil’s hesitation, his frustration at being powerless, and squeezed the hand still holding his again.

“John’s right,” he managed, taking another deep breath as the nerves in his arm bubbled with fire.

“Scott!” Virgil finally stood up, returning to his eye line. There were somewhere between three and four Virgils looking down at him in open concern and guilt, and Scott smiled at all of them.

“It’s okay,” he told him. “Let’s go h-ah-home.” John had a plan, he knew he did. John always had a plan, and Scott hadn’t survived twenty-seven years by ignoring his younger, smarter brother. Virgil was blaming himself, even with several fuzzy versions of his face in his vision, Scott could see that clear as day. The multitudes of Virgils frowned, but they moved. Too-familiar straps lassoed his body, keeping him firmly on the stretcher, and then he couldn’t see any Virgils.

“Kayo, hold on to something,” he heard his brother call. “We’re moving.”

“Holding on.” Her voice came out of a comm somewhere, probably near the console. Thunderbird Two’s VTOLs roared to life beneath them, Virgil’s ‘bird screaming her displeasure at the situation as she took to the sky far faster than Virgil usually let her. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going home,” Virgil told her, tone clipped. “John’s orders.” The powerful rear engines took over, exploding with the noise that gave the Thunderbirds their name as Virgil gunned his ‘bird as fast as she would go.

“Where are we getting an antivenom?” she asked. “Even at top speed it’s an hour and a half to Tracy Island from here.” They all knew that – it was how long they’d taken to get to the rainforest in the first place. It felt so much longer now. So, so, much longer.

“John didn’t say,” Virgil ground out. “He just said to trust him and go home.” Virgil did trust John, Scott knew that, but he could also tell that Virgil was unnerved at the lack of what he considered the most vital information.

“So that’s what we’ll do,” Kayo said firmly. “I’m not seeing any more spiders, but keep your helmet on just in case. I’m coming back.”

Scott didn’t know if he should be reassured or not that she hadn’t found any more. No spiders was good news, but it left him with the paranoid feeling that Kayo just hadn’t found one. His siblings were protected by their undamaged uniforms and helmets, but there was part of him – mostly buried because if he paid too much attention to it he’d start panicking – that realised he was still vulnerable to another bite.

“How’s Scott doing?” she asked.

“About as well as expected.” Virgil’s voice was flat. “There’s not much we can do without the antivenom.”

The door swung open and Scott blinked at the dull blue blur that walked through. As Kayo approached him she gradually gained definition, but multiplied.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. Three hands reached for his shoulder but he only felt one rest there.

“Holding,” he rasped, trying to give her a reassuring smile. A throb of pain from his bitten arm turned it into more of a grimace. From the look he thought he could see on her face, she wasn’t at all reassured.

“Virgil, I’ll pilot,” she said, squeezing his shoulder briefly before letting her hand drop. Scott watched her leave his line of vision, heading for his brother. He didn’t expect her to succeed in getting Virgil away from the controls – no-one got Virgil to surrender the controls of Thunderbird Two if he was already piloting.

No more words were exchanged, but he blinked and Virgil was there in front of him, all blurry four-three of him.

“Right then,” Virgil said, his hand resting where Kayo’s had been a moment earlier. “How are you really doing?” Scott scowled at the insinuation that he wasn’t being truthful, but didn’t protest as Virgil pulled out the medical scanner again. His multiple faces frowned. “Your blood pressure is dropping.”

“That’s not good,” he muttered, and Virgil shook his head in agreement.

“I don’t want to compensate it too much otherwise there’s the risk it’ll jump too high, but I can’t leave it to keep dropping,” he said, rummaging around in the cabinet by Scott’s feet. He knew that cabinet but didn’t like it, closing his eyes rather than watch the drip being prepared and inserted into his unbitten arm. Scott couldn’t say it made him feel any better, but he suspected the best he could hope for was to not feel worse as the venom circulated through his body.

After a moment, he opened his eyes again only to find his vision had blurred further. Blue and green told him his brother was still by his side, but he couldn’t make out his face.

“Scott?” Virgil asked. He sounded worried. “Are you back?”

“Didn’t go anywhere,” he protested, but it came out sounding more like dingowhrrrrr. And he felt sick.

“You passed out on me,” Virgil informed him. “Try not to do that again, okay?”

“I did?” he asked, swallowing painfully as nausea grumbled and bile threatened the back of his throat. He didn’t remember passing out, but he also hadn’t been feeling this terrible. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Virgil insisted. Well, no, it was the spider’s fault, but that didn’t mean Scott didn’t feel bad about panicking his brother.

“How long?” he asked, trying to look around for some clue. His eyes refused to co-operate, giving him nothing more than the green blur of Thunderbird Two and the blue of his brother’s uniform.

“About fifteen minutes,” Virgil told him. “How are you feeling?” It was a pretty redundant question, considering he’d been bitten by a venomous spider some, what, twenty, twenty-five minutes ago, and was presumably no closer to receiving the antivenom he needed than last time he’d been aware.

“Been better,” he managed, trying for some levity but aware it was falling flat. The fact that he was struggling to string together more than two words at a time didn’t escape him, and he had a feeling it wasn’t escaping Virgil either.

“Scott.” No, he wasn’t fooling his brother at all. “I know you can’t see me, and that your blood pressure’s low. What else?”

“Can,” he corrected. “See you.” He vaguely attempted to gesture in his direction with his unbitten arm, only to find it captured by a warm gloved hand and gently pressed back to the stretcher.

“Don’t avoid the question,” Virgil scolded. “Nausea? Pain? Losing sensation anywhere?”

“Yes,” Scott admitted, pulling a face. “Yes… No?” Unbidden, his voice slid up a few notes at the end, turning his assertion that he hadn’t lost feeling into a question. Frowning, he tried to move his fingers. His arm flared up, but he felt the digits twitch.

Virgil cupped his fingers in a warm gloved hand, kneading them gently.

“Let me know if you stop feeling anything,” he instructed, although it sounded more like a plea. “Do you think you could stomach some water?” Scott considered it, but the bile was still there in his throat and the idea of throwing up all over himself was decidedly unwelcome. He gently rocked his head from side to side in a no.

“Okay.” Virgil didn’t sound happy about that, and Scott winced. The blue got closer and a hand touched his forehead. “I wish I could do more, dammit. I hate this!” Scott tried to give him a reassuring smile. “No, you don’t get to smile like everything’s fine,” Virgil snapped. The hand left his forehead and rested on the pulse point on his neck instead. “If we don’t get that antivenom soon you’re going to die, Scott. You’re dying and there’s nothing I can do about it!”

Scott didn’t stop smiling, blinking to try and clear his vision just a bit. “Trust,” he rasped. “I trust… all of you.”

“But-” Virgil protested. The hand that had been kneading his fingers shifted its grip, holding his hand firmly but gently. Scott squeezed his hand with as much strength as he could find.

“You’ll find a way,” he told him, his voice faint even to his own ears. John had a plan; he didn’t know what it was, but he knew he had one. “Don’t give… up.” His eyelids were heavy again, and this time he could feel the grasping hands of sleep reaching out for him, clinging to him firmly and dragging him down. He could have fought them, struggled to remain awake, but the battle would spur his body’s adrenaline into action and he was still conscious that the less he fought himself the longer his body would hold out against the venom.

There wasn’t much he could do to help his brothers, but he could buy them time. The hands tugged and he let himself fall.

When he next opened his eyes, everything looked just as it had done earlier. Thunderbird Two’s green dominated his vision, with a blur of blue leaning over him. Despite that, it was clear that some time had passed; fresh air cycled around his mouth and nose, the light pressure of a rebreather sealed across his lower face, but more alarmingly, he couldn’t feel anything past his elbow. Attempts to twitch his fingers ended with no apparent success and for the first time the panic he’d been keeping at bay crept past his barriers.

“-running out of time, John!” Virgil sounded terrified. “His blood pressure’s through the floor and I don’t have anything left to try.”

“I’m working on it, Virgil.” He didn’t raise his voice, but Scott could hear the stress seeping through John’s words regardless. “How much longer do you think he has?”

“At this rate, he won’t make it home,” Virgil snapped. “I don’t know if it’s because he was already injured, or if he’s reacting to it, but he’s deteriorating faster then Dr. Furnier did.”

“It’s likely that Dr. Furnier had built up some resistance considering his line of work,” John acknowledged. “Keep doing what you can. Don’t give up; you know Scott’s fighting with all he’s got.”

“I know,” Virgil muttered. “I know.” The blue blur shifted, then Virgil gasped. “Scott! You’re awake?”

The rebreather didn’t give him much of a chance to talk, but he attempted to nod, only to wince as his head rebelled at the movement.

“Easy,” Virgil soothed. A gloved hand slid underneath his head, raising it slightly as the rebreather was removed. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. “How long?”

“Half an hour this time,” Virgil told him. That made it an hour, more or less, since the bite. The recording of Dr. Furnier’s dramatic I don’t mean to be dramatic, but I don’t think I’ve got forty-eight minutes, he’d heard in the debrief sprung to mind. In the end the scientist had lasted almost an hour and forty-eight minutes before they’d managed to get the antivenom to him. Scott was determined to last as long as he had to, but if the conversation he’d just overheard was right, he wasn’t going to match Dr. Furnier’s resilience.

He didn’t let Virgil know he’d heard that. Whether it was fact or simply a terrified brother deep in the throes of panic, there was nothing he could do about it except do his best to prove it wrong. If the brother was Alan, he might have attempted some reassurance, but Virgil didn’t like meaningless platitudes. It had been a long time since Scott had been able to blindly reassure him, and he wouldn’t do that to him now.

“How are you feeling?” Virgil asked him. “Any change?” Scott didn’t get a chance to answer before there was a concerned intake of air. “You can’t feel me, can you?”

There was no point lying; with Virgil a single blue blur he couldn’t even tell for certain where he was touching, although if Scott had to guess – and hope – he’d say he was once again holding the hand of the bitten arm. “No. Where?”

“Your hand,” Virgil confirmed, and Scott sighed in relief. Not that not having feeling in his hand was good, but it meant there wasn’t another dead spot he hadn’t noticed. “Anywhere else?” Light touches danced across his shins, apparently no longer protected by their greaves, and his other arm.

“Still there,” Scott assured him. “Feel you.” It was Virgil’s turn to sigh in relief.

“Okay, that’s not so bad.” A hand landed on his shoulder. “We’re still half an hour from home. Hold on til then, okay? John’s working on something.”

“Not giv-ah-ing up,” Scott promised, even as a fresh wave of pain coursed through him from his bitten arm, determined to remind him that he was in trouble. A lot of it. Unbidden, his body tensed as it passed, and Virgil gripped his still-feeling hand reassuringly. Scott clung to him with what little strength he could muster, but as the wave passed he felt his strength waning again.

“Scott?” Virgil squeezed his hand lightly but he couldn’t return the gesture. Not this time.

“Tired,” he admitted. The claws of sleep dug into him again – already, but he’d barely been awake a minute! – but that wasn’t what filled his bones with a deep-set exhaustion. Sleep was good, gave his body time to throw its undivided attention at kicking the venom. But that exhaustion scared him. Somehow he knew that if it dragged him under, he wouldn’t surface again.

That wasn’t sleep. That was something darker, stronger. Something he wasn’t ready to face. Not now, not when they knew Dad was alive, when they had a plan to save him. For the first time since he’d been bitten, reality crashed into him, no longer pacified by fake smiles and pretty words.

The spider’s bite was fatal. He was dying and they didn’t have a cure.

He was going to die.

No, he couldn’t do that. Not now. Couldn’t do that to his siblings, his grandmother. Dad, waiting in the Oort Cloud for him to lead his brothers there.

He fought it, the bone-deep exhaustion seeping through him with promises of the stars and Mom. He threw everything he had at keeping it at bay, the panic and terror he’d been supressing coming to the fore at the realisation time’s up.

“Scott!” Virgil sounded terrified and there was air rushing around his mouth and nose. Pressure all down one side of his body and a warm hand cupping the back of his head. That all meant something, something important, but Scott couldn’t tell what. “Keep breathing, Scott, come on. You said you weren’t giving up so don’t you dare.”

Giving up?

“Virgil, what’s happening?” the voice was shrill. Scott couldn’t place it.

“He’s convulsing!” Virgil yelled. “And he’s stopped breathing! Come on, Scott!”

Stopped breathing?

No. No. He wasn’t giving up and he was not dying today. He was supposed to be fighting, helping his brothers help him. Buying them time.

Time was not up, and death was not taking a Tracy today. He pushed back again, spurred on by the determination not to leave his family. Mom could wait a while longer.

“That’s it, Scott,” Virgil’s voice encouraged. “You can do it. Breathe.”

All at once, air rushed into his lungs, and his vision focused on the blue blur in front of him. Awareness seeped through him again and he realised he was laying on his side, rebreather firmly affixed.

“Are you with me?” Virgil asked. “Scott?” He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t promise Virgil death wasn’t taking him so easily. “Scott!” But then he heard it, the promise that everything was going to be okay. A rumbling like thunder, roaring through the heavens and bringing hope to everyone that heard it.

Scott’s eyes slipped closed to the lullaby of his Thunderbird’s engines.

next...

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #kayo kyrano #john tracy

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Dragon Dancer III: Godfall

Major Spoilers: Spoils Luminous and The Finale of Book 3 and current story line

Trigger Warnings: Cruel Imagery

His face was inches from mine. But it wasn’t in a mask. It was a face I knew. Tachibana’s face.

“H...how...?” I managed to grunt before he let me go. I collapsed.

“Soul Skill: Doppleganger. It was far easier to get what I needed done if I could play both sides. Of course, in order for you to survive, I had to sacrifice the Tachibana identity... but at that point it had fulfilled its purpose.”

I looked to where the King’s body had been but there was nothing there. Frozen transfixed, I struggled to breathe, moaning with the effort.

“I’m afraid we’re out of time.” He retrieved the parasite's container. “The ritual begins now.”

He returned to me and grabbed me by my hair. I heard the box open. Something cold and wet touched my skin. I couldn’t even struggle as it crawled around my body. But then it stopped.

The King dropped me. Shattering pain exploded inside. I cried, helpless.

The King put the baby down just out of my reach. The parasite was attached to its temple. My eyes burned and tears fell when the corrosive spider silk began to grow from its little nose, tiny chin, round feet and fingertips and connected to the silks already covering the red well.

“No... No...” I tried to get up reaching out to him.

The King marched over and put his boot on the hilt of the blade in my back and pushed down hard. The tip pierced the ground, pinning me. “You’re not going anywhere, if you teleport you die quicker. The Sword of Damocles is for you.”

The silk formed something like a crochet blanket around the child. “You can’t save him now. His soul is already lost.”

The baby sat completely still among the silk. There was no light in his eyes any more.

Somewhere outside my vision, the King continued his lecture. “The White King never had any intention of helping humanity achieve eternal life. She only wanted to extend her own own existence by using humans as a host for her own rebirth. Behold your son, the Light King."

He was not my son. My son was dead. The cocoon had nearly enclosed him like a lacy casket.

"As a newly reborn dragon, the White King’s blood has the strongest effect and the weakest toxicity.”

His voice grew louder as he returned. “I was going to use you as a host and let the child grow up with me as a dragon... but... This is not a permanent setback.”

“I must say despite that you were very valuable to me. I couldn’t have fought Chisei on my own.” He gave me a mocking sneer with Tachibana's face, unwrapping a thick needle and medical tubing. “Thanks.”

My lungs spasmed painfully against the blade in my chest. I coughed a red mist to the ground.

“Herzog... I... hate you... I hate... you!”

He inserted the needle into the child’s neck, attached the tubing and inserted the other end into his wrist. Bright red blood flowed from the baby through the tubing into him. I struggled to break free of the sword. I looked to the unconscious Chisei. I filled my lungs with air, sobbing. "I'm going to kill you!"

Herzog’s eyes began to grow golden. His skin started to shed those white filaments until he was cocooned. His laughter could be heard within. Then moaning, choking, and a low guttural snarl.

I forced my elbows under me, but I was fastened to the ground and losing strength.

I could only watch as a claw tore open the silk. What emerged was no man, but something similar to a death Servitor, pure gleaming white. Two membrane wings split the cocoon down the middle.

It fell over, legless with wings and arms only, but it still had a human face. It was only a little longer than a man was tall but the size belied power Herzog now had. It aimed its eyes to the sky and beat its pinions to soar up out of sight, out of reach.

I sank back to the ground, gazing at the pale, cold body of my son. I'd failed Chime and this little one. But I no longer had the strength to cry.

"Daddy... I tried."

"Carli!"

A familiar voice shouted my name, a pair of sneakers kicked up dust next to my face.

Mingfei yanked the sword out of me and tossed it aside. "Carli..."

I couldn't help but smile. This was so familiar, just like in the cave when he held me as I turned servitor. He was holding me now, crying, as I died again. I would have laughed but at this point, but each breath was a conscious choice.

Mingfei was screaming. "Save her! Save her, damn it! I don't care what you do! W...wait who ...who are you?"

As my vision dimmed, I thought I could see my father, prismatic scales sparkling in his own light. He was standing over me.

I blinked, remembered the dragon words he taught me. "Eternal... Cycle, Unity in All Things.... Self-suffi...."

The final gasp of adrenaline in my chest was fruitless. I went limp and it felt like falling into darkness.

I never would have stopped falling were it not for a sudden call. "Carli."

"Chisei?" He was in the darkness with me. He had golden eyes. I remembered Johann.

I couldn't leave someone.

But which someone? Johann? Or Mingfei? My mind was muddled and I couldn't decide, but I just didn't want to leave this dark place without Chisei.

I felt myself being drawn back up. Breathe. I needed to breathe! I grabbed Chisei's coat. "Come back with me!"

Those cold killer eyes regarded me briefly.

And he smiled.

I came back into my body, gasping for air, but something was different. I couldn't see anything but white. The world was strangely loud. I could see and sense the invisible forces that composed it. Fire, Earth... Wind... Water.

Spirit.

"Ouroboros!"

Mingfei's commanding call made me stretch the length of my body, my clawed hand of glassy scales reached in front of my eyes.

"Ouroboros..."

Chisei! I gasped with joy. He came back with me! He'd turned away from death and knew my name!

"....Meixiu..."

"Johann! Johann!" My heart beat loud in my ears, eager to reunite with my loves.

I stretched my wings and they burst from my cocoon, tearing it completely apart. Bright white and gold feathers draped from my back like the train of a wedding dress, as crystalline as diamonds. Next to me, a dark-scaled person stood with black membrane wings and a human face. "Mingfei?"

An intimidating aura radiated from him. His reptilian eyes made me shudder.

He held out his clawed hand to me. "Can you fly?"

His wings stirred the air and he rose from the ground. I followed, shedding the last shreds of the cocoon. After two experimental beats I could let go of him. Together we tasted the freedom of dragon flight. The ground shrank away, the endless sky spread above.

Mingfei's smile made me blush. He seemed suddenly mature and mischievous.

Another form zoomed past me leaving us behind, silver-scaled, like a flying bullet. In one wing stroke I caught up to him.

Chisei looked different. He was even more reptilian before, eyes covered with a faceted scale that made him look like he had insect eyes. He was larger, stronger, faster, but I had the feeling he was not nearly as strong as I was.

I felt that power surge through my muscles and beat my wings once again and accelerated past him. Mingfei matched my speed then surpassed it. I laughed.

I wasn’t angry or filled with hatred any more. I was enthralled with my own power. I spread my wings to stop myself. There was one I was missing. He was coming. Always so slow.

Turtle. I mocked him in my mind.

As I looked in the distance, I became aware of a roaring sound coming towards me. I blinked. They were like birds, but moved more like fish, fins stiff, stuck straight out their sides.

Fighter jets.

This was a human's world and I was a dragon. I was the enemy.

I forgot.

I called Mingfei and Chisei in my mind. We turned away from the aircraft and split up. I blinked into the darkness of the void and returned behind the jets without bothering to visualize first. Slipping in and out of this reality was so much easier for me now.

I wouldn’t permit the other dragons to harm the humans inside. Just disable their aircraft. Mingfei attacked from below and ripped out their engines. Chisei severed the wings. They obeyed my orders immediately and without question.

The real target was up ahead.

Herzog was not difficult to find. He was recklessly toying with the Earth’s elements, aiming destructive tsunamis, typhoons and earthquakes at the helpless human population. He was like me. Control of these powerful forces was only a thought away.

He was playing with the lives of humans just like a child who didn’t understand his actions, dancing and laughing in the sky, creating disaster as though jumping in puddles on a rainy day.

I screamed a command at him to stop. The command reverberated for miles around. Far below, every living thing trembled.

From within the clouds, I could feel his attention directed at me in indignation at my authoritative voice, the one who dared challenge his newfound reign.

The feathers turned from white to red and whipped out like bright tendrils, like I was flying with wings of fire. I aimed at him, bright like a comet in the sky.

Mingfei roared at my side. Far below us the corpses of the Devil Clan and the Hydra Elite forces, who had been entombed in silk, burst out and took to the air as Death Servitors under his command.

The war would continue! Dragon against dragon!

Herzog turned and began to climb into the air above the clouds. But I was gaining on him, his tail growing closer to my teeth. He let out a furious howl of frustration. He turned and dove, seeking an escape, only to fly right towards Chisei’s gaping maw. He dodged at the last second, snatching his wing from between the silver dragon’s jaws.

Another surge of strength stretched the flames of my wings even farther, turning them white hot. Pursued and hounded by an ascended Chisei, Herzog couldn’t dodge me and we collided. I embraced him and sank my teeth into his neck. He twisted out of my grip, howling as my fiery wing tip lashed him across the eye.

Desperate gripping his bleeding eye, he dove down at high speed. I didn’t follow him, letting Mingfei and Chisei pursue. As soon as he broke below the cloud cover however, he was met with yet another force of nature: A blast of heat so fierce it punched a hole through the clouds.

Chu Zihang. His scales were molten hot, shimmering like lava, and like a volcano he was in a constant state of blast and eruption.

Herzog’s wings folded limp, thin tendrils of smoke rising from his singed scales. After moving away some distance, he pivoted on one wingtip and aimed his eyes towards me, nearly invisible, arrayed in the glare of my wings of pure light.

Mingfei’s wings stroked against mine, completely unharmed, still holding on to the metal he’d torn from the jetfighters. I batted him away. He laughed.

He addressed Herzog. “Humans are really stupid aren’t they? Dr. Herzog. You have successfully evolved into a dragon after years and years of time, toil and countless human lives and yet we have achieved it in an instant.”

The newly hatched White King didn’t respond. This new so-called Dragon God had nothing to say.

“You made me sad. And when I’m sad, I want to kill. It doesn't matter to me if I kill a fellow dragon.”

“Who are you... what are you? What are you?!” Herzog hissed, trembling in fear and pain.

Mingfei's wings stroked the air. “I’m Zero... didn’t I tell you? As for who I am, you should be able to guess.”

“It’s you! It’s you! It’s you! You... you are him!” He pointed his clawed finger screaming with disbelief.

I’d never seen a dragon so cringing and pathetic. Was this really the White King? I turned to ‘Mingfei’, happy to finally have had a mystery unlocked in the end. No wonder I preferred him over all. It was only logical. His voice in my head was like a booming church bell.

“You are such a great existence...” I whispered to him.

“And yet you still reject my touch.” He replied.

I grinned at him.

Herzog was beside himself in shock and disbelief. “I was so close to the world’s ultimate power!”

Lu finally grew irritated. “What you call power is a pathetic imitation. At any rate... at least you’ve dressed well for your funeral.”

Herzog stopped yelling a moment to stare in shock.

Mingfei's voice dripped with derision. “Isn’t it your funeral tonight? You didn’t think you were going to leave here alive did you?” Mingfei looked into the sky. “This moonlit night is very suitable for burying a king. The rise and fall of a God in one night. Unprecedented.”

Herzog beat his wings, writhing and seething with anger. “I can’t believe it! So many years! So many years to get here and in the end, who do I meet but YOU! You are DEAD! You! LONG AGO! DEAD!”

Mingfei snorted. “You rebel against reality, but there is only one here who can truly change what’s real and what’s not. You exist only by her permission,” Mingfei chuckled.

“What are you saying...? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Mingfei folded his arms across his chest. “You made a mistake. You offended someone who you shouldn’t have, Herzog.”

The newly hatched White King turned to me. He opened his mouth at me and directed a powerful soul skill. Royal Fire.

Mingfei looked at me with a confident smile. The flames only reached half way before Mingfei spoke. “Canceled.”

The flames, as powerful as a nuclear bomb, dissipated.

Herzog was taken aback. He tried another. “Wind Lord’s Stare!” A powerful tempest swirled in front of me. “Cancel...” said Mingfei. It died before arriving.

Scorch! Canceled!

Glacier! Canceled!

Majesty! Canceled!

I tilted my head at him. “Are you showing off?”

Mingfei shrugged. “I know that if I used my Soul Skills they wouldn’t be effective against him either. We cancel each other out. You can end him with a word and yet you don’t do it.”

I turned away from him momentarily.

He took the two pieces of metal fragments he carried in his claws and in a moment they melted. He molded them into the form of a large sword.

The swords called The Seven Deadly Sins were forged after the death of the White King to kill the four dragon lords. They would not be effective against the White King.

But this one that Lu Mingfei created was specific for this opponent. He let out a roar and charged forward, Chisei and Zihang flying after him. The legion of death Servitors joined the fray.

To the people on the ground, it sounded like a horrific storm of strong wind and thunder. Dragons were always mistaken for forces of nature and this was no exception. Every time Mingfei clashed with the White king, they spit fire and lightning and roiled the clouds.

Powerful surges energy made for an unnatural display of an aurora in the sky and the sound generated was enough to shake the foundations of the buildings still standing, knocking out what power still remained in the city.

Herzog spewed jagged forks lightning from his mouth, stunning the Servitor legion, but stopped to grip the blade of Mingfei before it could split his skull. He wrapped his serpent's body around him and raked his claws across his chest.

Chisei collided with the White King Herzog’s back, digging in his claws. Herzog whirled on him, slashing him across the face.

Chu Zihang slammed his elbow into his jaw at full speed, heat blasting like a furnace. They tumbled, screaming towards Tokyo Bay. Mingfei said a word and a frigid wind began turning the sea waves into jagged peaks of ice.

Chu Zihang let go, preferring not to land on it, but Chisei zoomed by, tackled Herzog and held on, smacking hard enough onto the cold surface to crack it.

Their hot blood sizzled on the frozen ocean as they separated, facing one another. They were all wounded and bleeding. Herzog held his hand to his throat, forcing it to heal shut. When he looked at the wounds sustained by Chisei, Zihang and Mingfei however, he began to laugh.

“So you’re not invulnerable either! You only have the shape of kings and emperors but you are FAKE! If you were complete, I would be dead!”

“True... none of us are complete.” Mingfei said. “But I have the heart of a dragon, while you... You only have the heart of a man no matter how much blood you drink.” Mingfei sneered.

“You are a great creature and I am also an equally great creature. Why are we fighting each other?” He slithered across the ice toward him.

Suddenly I looked up at a bright form that was like a star as it began to move up from the horizon. I gasped in realization and sent a silent command to Zihang and Chisei to keep quiet. The fight was over. Herzog had lost.

“We can share this world. There is still the Wind King that needs defeating not to mention the rest of humanity and the Hybrids.”

“Share the throne with you?” Mingfei asked.

“Humans and Dragons are ants to us...” He said. “You are the only thing in this world with any value.” Herzog kept his eyes on Mingfei, looking for any signs of weakness.

“You are nothing but a maggot! How dare you ask me to share a throne with you!” Mingfei charged forward. The blade he had created impaled Herzog as if he had no bones.

Herzog screamed and hooked his claws into Mingfei’s chest but Mingfei beat his wings and took Herzog with him into the sky. The dragon king bit him over and over. Lu took the punishment, soaring ever higher.

“Doctor, you don’t know dragons at all. There are no true alliances without coercion. Dragons fight endlessly! I will die before I align with you!” He sank his fangs into Herzog’s neck and continued to drag him into the sky like a leopard making off with its prey. Herzog screeched. The atmosphere became cold and thin as they rose beyond an altitude where flight was possible.

Lu Mingfei’s pupils began to dim.

Sensing his ebbing strength, my heart sank and beat my wings, making a little mournful circle below.

Gasping for air, Herzog wrestled the sword from Mingfei’s weakening grip and chopped his wings off with it. He heaved his tail to free himself. Mingfei fell.

I soared to him and caught him in my arms. Calling my two other soldiers, we soared away form Herzog a good distance. Mingfei smiled at me.

“Hold me up so I can see... Meixiu...”

I halted my flight and turned him back to face where we came. Herzog was staring at us in midair, hovering. He had a confused, puzzled look on his face.

Something bright like a meteor plunged from the sky and struck him directly. Followed by five more. There were, not one, but six swords of Damocles that were released from the space kinetic weapon, the bright star I saw moving across the sky.

I wasn’t sure how, but Mingfei had manipulated things so that the sword didn’t fall on Chisei and me. While we were unconscious in our cocoons, the satellite carrying the swords had begun to complete another revolution around the earth. Mingfei had waited until the right time to put Herzog in the line of fire.

The metal rods melted in the heat of re-entry and disintegrated into a hot rain that inflamed the atmosphere and turned it red. The swarm of space debris engulfed Herzog in pure fire and tore his body apart.

The molten hailstorm hit the ice sea, prompting great geysers to erupt into the air. The bright bits of metal continued to glow as they sank and put boiling water under the ice. The frozen water cracked and burst with the pressure of the steam. Herzog’s ravaged corpse hit the half frozen, half boiling water and shattered.

After several seconds, nothing further happened. Bright debris continued to streak across the sky as I looked down at the bloody young man in my arms. He raised one hand to my face.

“Ouroboros... always on the sidelines...” he chuckled.

I stayed silent. A power like mine was not to be wielded lightly. Not even by a goddess. I turned my eyes to the horizon far beyond Japan.

Mingfei’s smile dimmed. “Really? That guy?”

“Were it not for interference, he wouldn’t have died.” I closed my eyes, gasping with the effort. “By turning back this small injustice… Herzog will be completely erased.”

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Chisei Gen #Chu Zihang #Mingfei Lu #Ming Z Lu #Spoilers

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dualwieldingrollingpins · 5 years ago

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I haven’t written fic in years, but mp100 and its fandom have inspired me to pick it back up. This was inspired by a post by @mikuhats and I hope you all enjoy!!

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Looking back, Shou realizes he only had himself to blame, but he couldn’t have expected the outcome of his actions. Not in a million years.

He was, after all, the one who had broken the silence and occasional clicking of buttons. It was too quiet, and although he knew Ritsu valued the peacefulness if he didn’t speak he was probably going to explode.

“Hey Ritsu, I got a proposition for ya.”

The boy in question kept his eyes on screen, the only hint that he had even heard the redhead was the small hum of acknowledgement he made.

“Five races in Mario Kart. Whoever wins gets to draw whatever they want on the loser’s face.”

Not his best plan, but the thought of drawing something hilarious (and probably inappropriate) on the Golden Boy of Salt Middle School amused him more than he cared to admit. He practically vibrated in his spot on the floor, though this wasn’t out of the ordinary considering he could barely sit still in the first place.

However, he clearly wasn’t the only one scheming, as the illuminated screen let him see the corner of Ritsu’s mouth turn up ever so slightly.

“You’re on.”

They choose their characters (Shou chooses Toad, Ritsu picks Luigi) and their karts (something both boys are very serious about, maximizing their potential to work with their characters’ strengths). Shou grins, hunching forward towards the television. He’s ready to kick Ritsu’s ass and have bragging rights for at least the next week, as well as maybe have a photo for him to snicker at whenever he needed it.

Then the races start, and Ritsu annihilates him. Absolutely destroys him. With every green shell that hits Shou at the worst moment, every boost that Ritsu somehow manages to get perfectly, and every time the redhead’s kart flies off the track, Shou’s dreams of embarrassing Ritsu with his epic racing skills fly further and further away from him. He’s astonished really, Mario Kart is HIS game, and while he’s struggling Ritsu still has that calm smirk that Shou can’t wipe off his face despite all his efforts.

At the end, his pride is so battered that he almost forgets his fate, until Ritsu grins triumphantly and turns toward him.

“Alright,” he turns off the game, leaving the home screen as the only light in the room. “Where’s my marker?”

Shit shit shit shit shit and He’s going to draw a dick or something like that and I’m gonna look like an idiot were the two most prominent alarm bells clanging in his head. But he’s not gonna back out, he’s no coward and he’ll take his punishment like a man.

Ritsu stood, silently walking towards his desk as to not wake his parents. Rifling through his drawers, he picks up a brown marker, not as noticeable as black would be, but good enough.

He knelt back down in front of his friend, marker uncapped, twirling it between his fingers.

“What are you gonna draw?”

Ritsu rolled his eyes, flicking Shou on the forehead. “Like I’d tell you. Now close your eyes.”

Although this was normally when Shou would make a snarky comment or a half-hearted protest, this time he did it without hesitation. Bright blue eyes closed, leaving Ritsu free reign to unleash whatever chaos his artistic side was feeling that moment, which was truthfully nothing. He had no clue what he wanted to draw on Shou’s face, because he wasn’t going to do something basic like draw dicks, there was way too much potential to waste it on something like that.

He inspected his canvas, trying to gain some idea of what to do. Then he spotted them. Shou’s freckles.

The young boy has always been fascinated by them, if he was honest. Shou’s heritage made him look completely different than most people in Seasoning City, a physical representation of his out-of-the-box and fiery personality.

He was struck with an idea, and while it wasn’t anything embarrassing or funny, he was gonna have a good time doing it. Leaning in and ignoring the flip flop of his stomach, he pressed the tip of the marker to a freckle on Shou’s left cheek, connecting it to others around, even some on the side of his nose.

Normally, Shou’s mind was running at around 60 miles an hour, chasing and capturing thoughts while some slipped through his fingertips like sand. This time though, it was moving double time, speeding and racing, revolving around one thing.

Ritsu was so close. He can practically feel the boy’s breath on his face. It’s the only thing he could think about, and his mind took the possibilities and made them into a one hundred meter sprint.

He couldn’t stand it, the outside world was so quiet while his mind was buzzing and panicky and loud-

His thoughts, once floating and soaring, plummeted to the ground from the gravity of a hand on his cheek. His eyes snapped open.

“Dude wha-“

“I couldn’t control the marker calm down,” Ritsu deadpanned, oblivious to the other’s crisis due to trying to mask his own. “Now close your eyes, you staring at me while I’m drawing is weird as hell.”

Shou nodded dumbly, for the first time in his life he was completely speechless. His face was rapidly heating to levels he had only felt when his curiosity had led him to touching a candle’s flame when he was young. His heart was thumping so loudly that he was positive Ritsu could hear it and his mind was screaming and Ritsu’s hand was so warm.

He tried to focus on anything other than that stupid hand. The coolness of the floor underneath him, the hushed ticking of the clock in the hallway, the reminder that it’s 1:53 in the morning and he’s never felt more awake in his life, the pins and needles feeling in his legs from kneeling for so long. But nothing worked, because as soon as Ritsu did anything his thoughts focused on him like a moth to light.

Ritsu had moved on from his friend’s cheeks to his nose to just idly doodling on forehead, though his points of reference were quickly disappearing due to Shou’s face and hair becoming the same color. But it didn’t matter, he was almost done, and he didn’t know why that thought disappointed him. As he finished the final line, he tilted his work from side to side, inspecting his art.

It was cute. He’s cute, his inner voice corrected.

“Okay, I’m done.” It came out a whisper, as if he was too nervous to be any louder.

One eye cracked open, then another, and as soon as he saw blue, his breath trapped itself in his throat. Because he realized how close he truly was, inches away from the other’s face, and his cheeks began to burn.

For a moment, neither spoke or move, daring the other to do something. The challenge hung in the air, mingling with the nervousness and excitement that had been there previously.

As if bored of their game, the earth decided to continue its rotation. The clock sounded. It was 2 am, and the trance was broken.

Both boys backed away from each other. The tension was palpable.

“So, uh,” Shou started, very interested in his socked feet. “I guess I need to see what you drew. Hopefully something funny or cool, like a creeper.”

He chuckled in an attempt to dispel some of the awkwardness that permeated the room, and he silently thanked Ritsu for playing along.

“Yeah. It’s nothing crazy but it’s better than dicks.” The black haired boy shrugged, trying to maintain his calm facade when really his stomach was turning cartwheels.

Shou headed towards the bathroom, with Ritsu a few steps behind, making sure to avoid waking anyone up.

As soon as he flicked the light switch, the brightness smacked him in the face with an unforgiving relentlessness, and he groaned. He took a moment, blinking rapidly in order for his eyes to readjust to the stark change.

Once he could finally stand to open his eyes, he took in his reflection. There were no dicks, no creepers, and no words. He leaned in closer, inspecting.

His freckles were connected by brown lines to form various little shapes. Constellations. The Big Dipper on his left cheek, the Little beyond that, going up the side of his nose. Cancer dipped from his forehead to a spot above his eyebrow, and Sagittarius stretched from his right cheek to his ear to above his lip. So many constellations littered his skin, and the spaces not connected by brown were covered with planets, as if Ritsu was determined to leave no part of his face untouched. He was transformed into a miniature universe with something as simple as a marker.

He pulled and tugged at his skin, obsessively checking so he doesn’t miss a single drawing Ritsu had made. Ritsu observed him from the door frame, bouncing from one leg to another and twiddling his thumbs to suppress his nerves.

Ritsu waited. And waited. The seconds seemed to pass like molasses, idly dripping with no intent on gaining speed. Finally, it was too much. He coughed awkwardly, which brought the redhead back to earth.

“What do you think?” His voice cracked on the last word, buzzing with anxiousness.

The redhead looked at him through the mirror, grinning, cheeks a pretty shade of rosy pink.

“‘S cute Ritsu. Didn’t realize my freckles were such an inspiration.” His teasing was lighthearted, poking his cheek.

Ritsu scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well I figured it would be more fun than just writing ‘Fornite sucks’ or something like that.” His aloof attitude was betrayed by his refusal to look Shou in the eye and a blush that was overtaking his face and ears.

A laugh rang out, genuine and pure and happy. Shou was grasping the counter, shoulders shaking. It was contagious, and just like a lot of his actions, his best friend couldn’t resist joining him.

There they stood until their laughs turned to giggles and faded away. Their faces were alight, having laughed more in that moment than either have in a long time.

“We should probably go to bed. It’s late,” Ritsu pointed out. Shou nodded, turning back to his reflection, looking at his galaxy.

“I wanna take a picture of it. It’s really cool,” Shou reached into his pocket, gesturing for Ritsu to get closer.

Opening up his camera, the two grinned for a picture, their cheeks pressed together and Ritsu’s right hand brought up in a peace sign, with Shou’s arm thrown around his shouldner. After taking a few, Shou seemed satisfied, lowering his phone and inspecting the pictures.

Ritsu saw this as a cue to start walking back to his room, reaching to open the bathroom door.

“Wait!” Shou grabbed his sleeve, stopping him. They both looked down his grip, Shou dropping his hand quickly and muttering an apology.

“I want to take another picture. None of them turned out quite right,” his voice was uncharacteristically small, and he was stumbling over his words.

Ritsu raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of mood, but obliged. They returned to their previous pose, Shou opening his phone camera once more.

Shou gulped, mentally preparing himself for what he was going to do next. As he continued taking photos, he stood on his tiptoes (Ritsu still had a good two inches on him, a fact he never lets Shou forget) and pressed his lips to his friend’s cheek. He felt the other boy stiffen, and he quickly pulled away.

“Thanks for the pictures Ritsu I’m gonna go to bed now sorry if I made things weird just don’t mention it haha,” Shou made a quick exit, willing himself not to kick a wall or scream because he was positive he had messed it up and his first real friend had fallen through.

A calloused hand grabbed his own, and now the tables had turned. He stared down at their clasped hands, then back up at Ritsu, and the fact that Ritsu had yet to speak was killing him inside.

Ritsu silently inched closer, not taking his eyes off Shou, clearly focused.

“Dude please don’t beat me up I’m sorry,” Shou stammered, his eyes squeezed shut.

He was prepared for anything really: yelling, shoving, silent animosity, and he was suddenly reminded of his time at Claw in the worst way possible. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the soft pressure on his forehead.

For the second time that night, his eyes shot open to stare at the esper. He was in complete disbelief.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve asked,” Ritsu muttered, embarrassed but still sporting a small smile.

The redhead’s jaw opened and closed, trying to form words but only succeeding in staring. He simply nodded, as his vocal cords were obviously betraying him.

“Let’s go to bed. I’m tired,” Ritsu yawned, tugging their intertwined hands and leading them down the hall. And through his embarrassment and happiness, Shou realized that, as corny as it sounded, their fingers slotted together perfectly.

As they climbed into Ritsu’s bed on opposite sides, allowing sleep to wash over them, Shou realized that this all stemmed from his stupid challenge. He reached up, idly tracing the stars that dotted his face.

Something had changed between the two of them, something they could talk about when the sun was shining. But for right now, each other’s company was enough.

And if they woke up with their fingers intertwined and their bodies much closer than before, they didn’t have to mention it.

#mp100 #ritshou #shouritsu #mp100 ritsu #mp100 shou #mob psycho 100 #two awkward boys with awkward crushes

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purpleswans1 · 5 years ago

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The Debut

Day 19 for Villain Month! Okay, not much related to “Natural Disasters” in this one, but oh man is it awesome! A big part of why I came up with my Villain!Izuku AU was to reach this point. I hope you all like it!