#royal family is still part human. so he just proofed into the zone

[80s4life]

Not What I Had Planned Pt.2

Word Count: 1,244

Status: Requested!

Ask: “Hi, I was wondering if you could do a part 2 from Kiefer Sutherland’s request? If your not too busy” + “Umm how about it’s first time changing his daughter diaper and he’s a little nervous about changing her?”

A/N: This was a request on my Wattpad account that I brought over here lol

Fandom: Stand By Me 1986

Relationship: Ace Merrill x GN!Reader (x baby girl)

Summary: Having a child is an all new adventure to every parent, especially when with your first child. There’s a first feeding, first word, first walk, run, bruise, cut, cry, kiss.... and even your first diaper. Follow Ace and Y/N through their highlights in the world of parenting!

Warnings: langauge, fluff, humor if I do say so myself

Masterlist Stand By Me Masterlist Part One

{Gif is not mine, credits to @mistress-gif​}

To say that parenting was easy would’ve easily given away a person who has no clue about kids in general. Unless they are some saint or angel, then any kid could be a goddamn monster. The only defense, they don’t act like this on purpose, it’s just in their nature. And, in order for them to be raised properly, certain points or changes in their lives must be tackled in different forms of parenting.

For instance, when the child is only an infant or toddler, crying, pain, and attention-cravings are just the few things that are typical. Infants are delicate, unable to properly explain or do anything themselves, crying and attention being essential. As toddlers, they start to learn things on their own, cry and attention still to be expected, as they now reach their clumsiness period, consistent falling, stumbling, and tripping now.

To say Ace was prepared for this was a full-proof lie, him not knowing or being understanding for shit. He didn’t know how to be a father, especially when the father figure he’s usual supposed to take notes and go by, was a complete ass that could’ve cared less of who he had fathered and unsupported.

Y/N, however, was the opposite of Ace. Having supportive, loving, close-knit bonds. That’s what had drawn Ace into their little circle, being complete opposites, yet undeniably attracted to one another. Y/N’s father was the father Ace never had, playing football, watching sports, talking politics, hell even cooking barbecue on a damn grill; was just a few of the things observed and learned.

Y/N’s mother also played an amazing role, prying her way into Ace’s life just as her child had. Delicate, kind and caring. Y/N’s mother taught Ace sympathy, more control on his emotions, how to love and be loved by family, and of course, their child, Y/N.

All of these things, that may tend to be simple knowledge, was introduced to Ace as if it were a whole new world, and, when the pair had introduced their new addition, he applied everything he could. He was as caring as he could manage, which although he thought otherwise, was the kindest he had ever been to any human being in the world (besides Y/N and their family of course).

Ace carried a camera always, worked some extra hours during the night just for extra cash in the future, carried his baby girl everywhere, and despite his hard feelings for his family, he had created the beautiful name of Christina Poppy Merrill. Since their first kid was a daughter, Christina came in the honor of his brother Chris Merrill, and her middle name had come from his father’s nickname, ‘Pop.’ 

Y/N, being their ever supporting self, quickly hopped on the bandwagon, loving the name completely, not completely caring as long as their baby carried their Ace’s last name, just as they always dreamed of in the future. Marriage was something Y/N nearly craved, but never brought it up to Ace, him still knowing secretly but haunted by yet another touchy topic on its own level.

They understood though, knowing now that that topic would have to wait, their new addition coming first. 

For a while, Chrissy had slept in their bed during the nights, while Y/N and Ace built the very room she would soon reside in for the many years to come. Y/N painted the walls pink and blue hues, mixing in some places to make them a slight purple, like a sunset. Ace busied himself by building a handmade bed, “Something sturdy so she doesn’t fall through the fucking floor,” is what he claimed, stealing giggles in answer to his ever-questionable train of thought.

Music blasting, people working, and a baby playing in the center of the room. Bliss. Everything Y/N wanted, especially when their beloved boyfriend made sure he checked on the baby girl every so often, sometimes taking a break to even play cars with her. They fell for Ace long ago, but moments like these strike right to the heart, knowing damn well that they somehow can fall even harder for him.

Even the dumb, giggly moments. 

Y/N had changed Chrissy for a while, eventually getting somewhat annoyed as they would get up throughout the night just to change the baby in question, Ace claiming innocence and, “I don’t know how to... baby.” 

Y/N didn’t even bother to question what the fuck he was trying to say, sleep creeping into his being, but not long enough as Y/N yanks his ass out of bed, pulling his hand along with theirs.

Entering the room, Y/N goes to the changing station and Ace grabs Chistina, giving a resting bitch face to Y/N for waking him up. They ignore him however, quite tired of his excuses and deciding to teach the man exactly what to do, so that he didn’t have any excuses to give.

Pointing things out every now and then, Ace takes the advice, doing what was instructed...hardly. He almost gagged as he took the spoiled diaper off his baby girl, the shit coating some of her back. Y/N had laughed at that, finding some satisfaction at the fact of him probably having the worst diaper yet as his first.

He does manage to clean her up though, Y/N had to admit, doing quite well for a man so out of his comfort zone. He was the ‘bad boy’ for Christ’s sake. It was towards the end though, when Ace fucked up royally. Going to grab the baby powder and lightly dab some on the baby’s diaper, but dumping a mountain of the stuff instead.

The couple stare for a moment, Christina even silencing questionably, looking at the mess of baby powder both coating Chrissy and Ace. Y/N, trying not to be the immature one in this situation, takes steps back, but loses it the second they get a good look at Ace’s face, shocked and confused as hell.

He turns towards them accusingly, but soon gives into the humorous situation too, chasing Y/N as he goes to coat them in baby powder as well. They squeal, racing around the house until Ace wraps his arms around their waist, dumping some of the powder on their head. 

Within seconds, they are a laughing mess, running back towards Chrissy, almost forgetting she was still sitting on the changing station. Y/N shows Ace how to change the baby properly now, doing the rest of the cleanup and changing themselves as Ace watches adoringly.

Placing the baby in the crib, Ace rids himself of his shirt, clad in his underwear only now, and continues down the hall back to the shared couple’s bedroom. Y/N follows closely behind, admiring his muscular back, as they really couldn’t help it in their case. 

The couple lays back down, content smiles on their features. Ace’s arms reach towards Y/N’s form, bringing their back against his chest, right arm cradling their head and the left delicately draped across their waist, his head placed in the crook of their neck. 

The utter comfort and love in the embrace quickly reassures Y/N, their joints finally loosening from the long day and events of the night. And, just as sleep comes to overtake them, they could just hear Ace below a whisper, “One day I’ll get ya’ your ring, and one day, you’ll steal my last name, just as you’ve stolen my heart.” 

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 1.2

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day One – A Tale of a Fateful Trip – Part 2 Prologue | 1.1

Author: Gumnut

8 - 14 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2701

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note:  For @scattergraph This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic and it is a big one ::headdesk:: I hope you enjoy it. I know I have thoroughly enjoyed researching a gorgeous corner of this planet.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

And as always, thank you all for creating such a fantastic fandom. Thundernerds rock! I hope you all have a wonderful festive season. Thank you all so much for everything.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 The sunset that night was as good as any they had ever seen on Tracy Island. The ocean swell was minimal as predicted and Gordon threw out a sea anchor to hold them tight while they ate dinner. They could have kept going, but instead chose a moment of quiet and together.

The meal was a lazy affair out on the boat deck consisting of burgers assembled by John and Alan.

For a change the conversation was light. A voyage down memory lane, Dad, the saga of FAB2 and Parker’s, uh, misfortune with it, and an incident in WASP training that Alan literally had to drag out of Gordon with threats of revealing something worse that the three other brothers were still in the dark about.

The glare sent Alan’s way promised some serious dunking at some point. Alan’s grin in return clearly said it was worth it.

While they were sitting still, Gordon threw out a sensory buoy. Apparently, the aquanaut had gone all out and stocked the yacht with all his marine biology equipment. No doubt, Scott had been back and forth between Tracy Island with his brother at least once. It wasn’t often the scientist in Gordon got a chance to play in his environment.

Sure, Tracy Industries had made some major ecological investments in the area, including the Kermadec Ocean Sanctuary which protected a whole swath of ocean between Tracy Island and New Zealand. Gordon had worked with his father early on in that project and advised that as much as possible should be protected. Their proximity to the island group and the purpose of International Rescue hadn’t always coincided and it was Gordon, young though he was, who made it work.

And besides, Tracy Island was outside New Zealand’s and their other nearby neighbour, Tonga’s control and their security system didn’t let anyone near them anyway.

But Gordon had always been conscious of the greater good beyond human matters and their family as a whole kept their Island as ecologically isolated as possible to protect its non-human inhabitants. If anything, it was proof that humans could exist within an established ecosystem and impact it minimally as long as due care was taken.

The sensor buoy he threw off the side of their boat sunk into the depths somewhat and sharpened their sensory net to activity underwater including sounds and movement. The holographic interface threw up a three-dimensional display of the water under and around the boat up to a kilometre across.

The aquanaut placed the projector in the middle of the table. “Would you look at that.”

Vigil stared at the somewhat blurry dots and shapes moving across the display. “What?”

Gordon rolled his eyes and, reaching into the hologram, zoomed in on one spot teeming with dots of movement. The middle of the table was suddenly full of a school of large fish.

Virgil shifted back and he wasn’t the only one.

“A little warning next time, bro.” Alan was frowning at Gordon.

“Eh.” And no, their aquanaut did not care, his eyes latched on the fish. “A school of tuna, southern bluefin, in fact. Good to see, though they are at the edge of their range.” He grabbed his tablet and, while four other brothers stared at him, he entered some data, his eyes dancing between the two displays.

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. Scott caught his eye and did the same. Virgil’s smile became a grin.

Gordon didn’t notice. His fingers darted into the hologram again and minimised the tuna only to bring up another school of fish on the other side of the display. More notes were made on the tablet.

The silence around the table was profound. Even John had a small smile on his face as he watched Gordon.

A dark shape moved amongst the fish. It was much larger and it wasn’t until it slid into the centre of the school that it became clear exactly what it was.

“Wow.” Alan voiced the awe for all of them. Well, except Gordon who was still staring at the fish.

Virgil resisted the urge to reach out and touch the hologram of the shark cruising through scattering fish. He wasn’t sure what type it was, but it was big.

A moment later Gordon realised they were all staring. A glance at the shark and he punched at his tablet. “Bonus! She’s tagged!” Another stab or two. “Hilda? Oh my god, it’s Hilda.”

Hilda?

“Who’s Hilda?” Virgil asked the question, but Gordon was absorbed in what he was doing.

“I did not expect to find her this far south.”

“You know this shark?” Alan’s voice was small.

“What? Oh, yeah, Hilda likes to feed in our lagoon.”

“What?” Scott’s deeper voice cut through the stunned silence. “That shark was in our lagoon?”

Gordon blinked up at him. “Well, yeah, how do you think I tagged her? Been following her movements for the last two years. She loves some of the smaller fish that feed in the coral reefs. She can’t quite fit into all of them, but she enjoys herself in any case. Caught herself a couple of seabirds from the colony on Mateo a few months back. It was awesome.” Not once did his eyes leave the display and the shark swimming across their dinner table.

“I am never going swimming again.” Alan’s voice was tiny.

Gordon finally looked up and his eyebrows shot up. “Hey, she’s cool. You lot aren’t tasty enough anyway.”

Scott sighed and dropped his head into his hand. “Why do I bother?”

Something flashed in the corner of the display and Gordon immediately minimised it back to a sea of floating dots. “Hey, we’ve got a big one coming into range. Oooh, no, two....yes!”

Virgil jumped as the display flickered and zoomed in again, this time bringing up another large shape. His fish brother was literally bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, she’s a mama.” And there beside the humpback whale appeared a young calf.

Virgil stared.

“And they are talking. Listen to this.” Gordon grinned as he punched his tablet with an eager finger. Suddenly the room was full of grunting and clicking sounds and the occasional moan.

God.

Virgil reached behind him, fingers grabbing for the sketchbook he had thrown there earlier while still fighting with his pencil. Within moments both pad and pencil were in hand and he was drawing. Fast. The pencil scraping across the page. Curves, bumps waves of lines. On the table the two whales flew through the phantom water. On the paper, Virgil’s fingers lost themselves in the art. Graphite formed the whales’ flanks, the sharpness of the pencil lead compensated where the display could not provide clarity. But most of all he drew fast. He did not know how long they would be there, or how long he would have the privilege of seeing them.

He disappeared into the page, finding that zone he had been so seeking the last few days, and it wasn’t until the display flickered off and he found all four brothers staring at him that he snapped out of it.

A glance at Gordon. “They’ve left the area, bro. I held them in range as long as I could.” Brown eyes were apologetic.

Virgil blinked and looked down at what he had been drawing.

Two whales leapt off the page in front of him, silver and grey graphite shone, caught by the cartridge paper tooth. Tilted in pose, they were turned just slightly towards each other, so obviously parent and child, it touched his heart.

“That’s awesome, Virgil!” Alan was all jubilation and eagerness.

A glance at Scott and Virgil found something akin to pride in his eyes. John was smiling. Gordon stood up and walked behind Virgil, peering over his shoulder. “Can I have it? Or a print?”

“Uh...”

Gordon’s hand landed on his shoulder. You don’t have to answer now. Just know that that is a damn good drawing, bro, and I like it.”

Virgil grabbed his arm before he could move away. “How often do you see whales?”

A shrug. “It is late in the season, but we might see a few this time of year. The humpbacks migrate through here. I’ve certainly seen enough from home.”

“They come near Tracy Island?”

Gordon frowned at him. “I thought you were in touch with the world around you, Virg. All that artistic standing in the wind stuff. Of course, they do. I’m taking you whale watching as soon as possible. You don’t need to swim to see whales. God, guys, we live on an island in the middle of thousands of miles of ocean. Pay more attention. Yeesh.”

Okay, perhaps he had a point. Gordon had always loved the ocean and the worlds beneath it. Scott always loved the sky, John and Alan adored space. Virgil...was about how those worlds worked. Perhaps he needed to pay more attention to the ones underwater. “It appears I need to.”

Those familiar brown eyes blinked at him before a hand covered the one Virgil had on his arm. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He slipped free of his hold and grabbed his tablet again. “Just need to log into my home server...” The tablet took a royal stabbing with his finger. A moment and he set the device down on the table, poked it a couple more times until it projected up another underwater scene.

Five fully grown humpback whales and two calves frolicked in the holographic water. “There you go. Last year, not two hundred metres from our front door.”

Virgil just stared. His fingers itched to capture the scene. He hadn’t felt so inspired in months. “C-can you send me a copy?”

Gordon stared at him a moment, something in his eyes. “Sure. Tell you what. I’ll copy a bunch of these recordings onto the family server and you can do with them what you like.”

He couldn’t look away from the whales. “Thank you, Gordon.” He needed some colours. Phthalo blue. Payne’s grey. Phthalo turquoise. Cadmium yellow and possibly orange to up the contrast. White and maybe some Alizarin Crimson.

“Virgil, you okay?” Scott.

“Huh?” He shot a glance in his brother’s direction. Scott was frowning at him. “Uh, yeah. Did you bring any of my paints?”

Scott looked at John and his younger brother answered. “Your travel kit is in your cabin.”

“Great! Thank you.” He grinned at John and stood up...slowly as his body reminded him he wasn’t running at one hundred percent. A step and he hugged a stunned Gordon. “Thank you, Gordon. Thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Virgil stepped back and grinned at him. Gordon was staring at him as if he’d lost a marble or two. His expression only made Virgil laugh. A pat on his arm and Virgil grabbed his sketchbook and with another grin headed off towards his cabin.

He had it. All he needed was his tablet and a network connection and he had stock to paint to his heart’s content.

“Don’t you stay up painting all night!” It was Scott, yelling the length of the boat, but it only made Virgil’s grin wider.

-o-o-o-

Shit. The idiot was likely to exhaust himself at his easel. He would have to make sure he checked on him later, make sure he was sitting, not standing. Wouldn’t help for his brother to exacerbate his injury just because he zombified when painting.

John was staring at him.

“What?”

A soft smile. “Nothing.”

Scott eyed him, but John was his usual calm self, refusing to reveal any hint to his thoughts.

Lips thinning, he shot his brother a glare, which was ignored, and turned back to Gordon...only to find the table now covered in what appeared to be densely packed sardines of some kind.

Okay, he’d had enough of fish. He pushed himself to his feet. Gordon didn’t notice.

Scott had been hoping to sit down with Virgil and just have a little one on one bro time, but he had to admit that seeing it all come together for his arty brother like that had been pretty amazing and there was no way he was going to deny him the moment.

He would likely emerge from his room sometime tomorrow with a new masterpiece in his hands that Scott would, as usual, be totally stunned and blindsided as to how he managed it. Hell, that whale took all of fifteen minutes and it literally leapt off the page.

Stepping back from the table, he brushed a hand across John’s shoulders as he passed behind him and slipped inside. There was a bar in the corner of the lounge. He grabbed the whisky he had bought that morning and poured himself just a smidgen. He didn’t want to get drunk. He just wanted something to line his mouth, give him the taste.

Tumbler in hand he made his way through the main cabin and up onto the bow where they had stood for a good part of the voyage earlier in the day.

The sun was only a memory of the far side of the horizon, the sky darkening quickly and the ocean that gently rocked the boat, and no doubt Virgil’s easel, was becoming blacker than the sky above it.

The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the stars were breaking through the remnant light, and combined with the faint breeze, night was setting in.

Scott let a breath out.

In its own way it was beautiful. He wasn’t one for waxing poetic, but the sky was his home. He breathed it in with every breath and out here away from the lights of life, he could almost hear it.

“Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

Despite himself, he jumped.

“Woah, big bro, just come up to share a drink with you. Spock and McCoy killed all the rear lights so they can stare at their distant balls of gas and talk the hard sciences.” His brother rolled his eyes. “They’ve obviously never attempted to collect samples from a hydrothermal vent several kilometres down. ‘Hard’ would be the least of the terms used.”

His brother’s verbal diarrhoea came to a sudden halt and Scott took the moment to let his shoulders drop.

“You okay?” Gordon looked up at him and Scott realised he had a tumbler in his hand similar to the one in his own.

A half smile. “I’m good.” And he returned to looking out at the black hole of an ocean. “Thank you for coming up with this idea.” He rolled his shoulders just a little and took another sip of his drink. “I think we all need it.”

“Not a problem.” Gordon moved up to stand beside him and sipped his own whisky. “Not often I get a chance to get out here for a good stretch of time. I’m enjoying myself.”

“I noticed.” He twisted his lips. “Hilda?”

Gordon grinned. “My senior year French teacher. The woman was all bite and no bark.”

Scott frowned. “Miss Schwank? I thought you liked her?” One handed air quotes. “‘I’d like to go all Jacques Cousteau on her.’ I think I actually have that in writing somewhere.”

Another grin. “I did. She was gorgeous. Blonde with all the right measurements and a tongue that could do all the right things, no matter the language.” The smile vanished and he looked down at the tumbler in his hand. “She was one of the Lost in the 2060 Tsunami Disaster. Found her name on the nets.” The stars lit his brother’s eyes as they looked up at him. “On her honeymoon, apparently.”

Scott swallowed. He remembered the vivacious woman, all sharp words and determination. “Sorry to hear that.”

Gordon sighed. “So, now we have a great white shark with the same attitude. Just as beautiful, just as determined, just as likely to bite my head off if I go anywhere near her.” The grin was back. Another sip and his brother’s expression was all fondness.

A smile crept onto Scott’s face. He reached up and dropped his hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed gently. Another taste of whisky and he turned back to stare into the darkness.

-o-o-o-

End Day One

Day Two, Part One

[gildedink]

Jiteo-Sengu, The Center of Tenruon’ou - Introduction

Jiteo-Sengu - also known as ‘the Center’ or ‘the Central Region’ in common colloquial – is the region of Tenruon’ou overseen and governed directly by the Royal Lanhua Family. It covers the southern fourth of the continent of Jiahuyen and the upper half of the island of Taimi, which are located in the central region of Tenrou’ou hence the nickname. Jiteo-Sengu has the additional importance of keeping the regions of Kōngběi-Hu and Mikaizu separate from one another, acting as a buffer zone between the Tanaka and Jurai clans.

History

The history of The Center is slightly obscured regarding the events that led up to its creation. What is known is that in Gyumo-Ang was the first city of the region be established in 40 P.S.W. At the time Tenruon’ou had yet to have a capitol or royal family as whatever previous government had ruled humanity before the Great Spirit War was lost. Though a handful of noble families survived – such as the Tanaka Clan – most remaining were commoners. With the Jurai establishing their own circle of power through the following of those Blessed by the sea and the Tanaka currently ruling Amakin both due to being of noble blood and Blessed by the Golden Phoenix, it was proposed that the Lanhua family, who carried the Blessing of the Spirit Orchid, be chosen to rule. With the consensus, the Lanhua became the rulers of Tenruon’ou.

Founding

The first village of the Center was the future capital of Tenruon’ou, Gyumo-Ang. It was officially established in 40 P.S.W but some scholars suspect it may be older as the area where the city became established was occupied by the Jurai Clan for a time before then. It was founded by Ahnjong Lanhua, who married that generation’s Oracle of Humanity, Min-A, who’s family name has been lost to history. Since then, the Spirit Orchid has Blessed the Lanhua family continuously.

As a rule, the Oracle of Humanity can never be the King of Tenruon’ou, though because the law specifies the position of king and not queen, there have been a few times where the Queen of Tenruon’ou has also been the Oracle of Humanity. The most recent instance of this is the deceased Queen Yeong-Ja Lanhua, mother of the current King, Borauk Lanhua. Men who marry into the Lanhua take on the family name. Tenruon’ou has never been ruled by anyone not with Lanhua blood and the Blessing of the Spirit Orchid.

Expansion

After the establishing of Gyumo-Ang, King Ahnjong rapidly expanded the territory held directly by the Lanhua Clan, working in conjunction with Kyo Tanaka to purge the demons that still infested the land as it had once been the home of the Demon Court during the Great Spirit War. It took many years and by 63 P.S.W the continent of Jiahuyen was relatively safe for residence and city establishment. It was agreed upon by the nobility that half the continent would be directly ruled by the Lanhua while the other, northern half would be overseen by the Tanaka Clan. The major cities of Ohan Sebji (renamed Shuyi’wo once being handed over to the Tanaka after the Civil War), Kochwa-Ja and Ilmo-Mu were established between 68 P.S.W and 77 P.S.W.

In 104 P.S.W, King Jiduri began to expand the region southward as the cities under his direct jurisdiction were stable and expanding. The human populace was now beginning to slowly grow as well. By the end of his reign in 122 P.S.W, the major cities of Hyang-Sul and Sogeum-Kobal (renamed Dokuh’oi once being handed over to the Jurai after the Civil War) had been established, securing the island of Taimi under Lanhua jurisdiction. Expansion was halted abruptly by King Jiduri’s successor, King Ju-Min after the Oracle had a vision warning the region was destined to fall under Jurai rule. Until the vision, the royal family and the Tanaka had assumed the Jurai Clan and those who had followed had been lost, wiped out by the demons that still roamed the land. This was proven false and in 125 P.S.W, King Ju-Min sent out a small scouting party to attempt to locate the Jurai. After several failed attempts, a scouting party returned with Tatsuya Jurai, who was sent by the Clan Head to represent the family. He informed the king of the establishment and stability of the cities of Umi no Hōseki, Hachiiru and Atsuno as well as swore fealty to the crown as the other noble clans had at the establishment of the monarchy.

The island between the Taimi and the established Jurai cities was left alone and the Jurai officially recognized as nobility along with the Sea Blessed families who had become rulers of their cities under the Jurai Clan. King Ju-Min also, under the advice of the Oracle, gave power to the Jurai to appoint other families as nobility at their discretion, a power the Tanaka Clan also held.

The Tanaka-Jurai Civil War

From 125 P.S.W until 498 P.S.W, Jiteo-Sengu remained relatively stable, its boarders firm and unchanged. There was peace and stability during this long stretch of time and the human populace flourished. The Tanaka and Jurai clans remained separate and at odds due to incidents continuously occurring between the families. The Lanhua acted as a neutral party and kept those directly under their rule out of any disputes.

In 497 P.S.W, Jianyu Tanaka declared war on the South. While the then-head of the Jurai Clan – Kousuke Jurai - initially refused to engage in the war, when the sacred spirit sharks of the Jurai began to wash up slaughtered onto the shores, the war was reciprocated.

The war went on for months, primarily fought in Keiro’u. The Lanhua Royal Family was unable to intercede in the fight, having their hands full attempting to cull Jiteo-Sengu which was fracturing over the emotional and political appeals of both sides. At its height, the war threatened to permanently rip Tenruon’ou in half and the Lanhua were at risk of losing the crown as the populace violently revolted against their neutrality. Though it was illegal, many young men fleeing from conscription into the Kōngběi-Hu army fled to Jiteo-Sengu and were hidden by the populace. Those of the Hidden Villages initially sided with the royal family. When it was discovered by their internal nobility that the sacred sharks of the Jurai had been slaughtered, over 3/4th of the Hidden Villages sided with the Jurai, including many located in the North. This public selection of sides agitated the populace of Jiteo-Sengu into action and in the final couple of year of the war, the royal family was forced to barricade themselves within the palace for safety. Only the fact that the Oracle of Humanity was within kept the citizens from breaking in and killing the Lanhua family for their pacifism.

By the end of the war, about 700,000 in total were either injured or dead, cumulating the loss of both sides. There was a single missing case, that of Yuzuko Jurai the eldest daughter of Kousuke Jurai. To this day her remains have never been found. Some speculate her tormented spirit is what haunts the Myu-Ho Desert.

Fallout and Contraction

At the end of the war, a treaty was drawn up by the royal family and the Tanaka and Jurai forced to sign in. Within the treaty, it was agreed war could not be declared unless proof of provocation could be shown. Both families agreed to remain outside of one another’s territories unless given permission by the other to enter. The cities of Ohan Sebji and Sogeum-Kobal were given to the Tanaka and Jurai and renamed Shuyi’wo and Dokuh’oi respectively. Though these two cities would now be part of Kōngběi-Hu and Mikaizu, they would remain, by law, under the jurisdiction of the Lanhua family with the Tanaka and Jurai Clans simply governing them. This caused the region of Jiteo-Sengu to shrink about 40% in area.

Shortly after the war in 499 P.S.W, reports of demonic infection and poisoning so deep the Earth Spirits were seeking interceding within the city of Ilmo-Mu reached the ear of the King. Before there was enough time to react, the Phoenix King came down and scorched the area with holy fire, cleansing the area of the demonic poison but also rendering the area an inhospitable desert. When questioned by the Oracle, the Spirit Orchid revealed the infection was just too deep to be healed and thus the need to purify through fire. The city of Ilmo-Mu was lost and the area became re-labeled as the My-Ho Desert. Though there is no confirmation either way from the spirit Orchid, the Lanhua family suspects the cause of poisoning was the desecration of Yuzuko Jurai, who went missing and whose body was never found.

[smallblueandloud]

and i think it’s gonna be a long long time

summary: natasha doesn’t realize what has happened to her family until clint shows up in a quinjet wearing the gear codenamed RONIN. (infinity war spoilers)

ships: clint x natasha x laura. everyone x sadness.

warnings: ...it’s a post infinity war fic. character death. (off stage)

a/n: let’s just say that the draft was titled ‘post infinity war crying’ and leave it at that.

Natasha finds all the survivors drinking in a bar.

She’d been trying to contact Hill for an hour before conceding defeat and tracking everybody down to the nearest place that served whiskey.

Rhodey and some Wakandan soldiers are passing around a bottle of what looked like scotch. She can see Steve sitting alone in the back, drinking something that is glowing some kind of light blue and turning a match over and over in his fingers.

She decides not to ask. It’s been a hard day for everyone.

Right. A hard day, she thinks sardonically, smiling barely at Thor across from her as she sits down at the bar. She’s been dealing with hard things her entire life. Killing your sisters with your bare hands was certainly not a walk in the park, despite (or maybe because) how much her handlers had tried to make it so. Today, though? Today’s battle against Thanos was definitely the hardest of her life. Watching those people - her teammates - fade to dust in front of her - it was just -

Hill was probably the latest in a long list of casualties. It had only been Natasha’s ingrained instinct to contact a handler that had rendered her able to remember Hill’s name. Remembering any contacts besides those in front of her would take energy she doesn’t think she has.

Natasha’s still trying to deal with the fact that she was unable to do anything to help her team. Days like this, when they’re fighting the major fights, remind her that although she may be one of the best humanity has to offer, there’s definitely better than humanity. Her brain keeps replaying the moment when Thanos flicked her to the side like she was no more of an annoyance than a pesky fly. She shakes her head and tries to ignore it.

As she flags down the robot that’s been delivering more of the good stuff to Rhodey and his new friends, the Wakandan warrior sitting next to her looks up. She looks exhausted, but then again, probably everyone does.

“Any luck?” she asks, although she probably has no idea who Natasha is. She shakes her head anyway, accepting the vodka that the robot places in front of her. It bites like the cold of her homeland on its way down, which is comforting in its own way.

“My contact probably got unlucky,” she says, clearing her throat slightly and pushing the glass away from her.

The woman grimaces in sympathy. “The American phone networks could be down.”

Natasha hadn’t thought of that. She’s evidently too tired to even reason that out.

“You should get some sleep,” the woman next to her says, unaware that she’d just voiced Natasha’s inner inner thoughts. “Your team did some of the heaviest fighting.”

“I will, thank you,” says Natasha, standing up. Her various wounds are starting to really throb, and she has to get to a bed before she really crashes.

Later, she won’t be able to recall how she got to the quarters that she woke up in twelve hours later. She’d slept like the dead, with no nightmares to disturb her at all. That combined with the softness of the mattress and the sunlight streaming in through the window has her turning, half asleep, to reach for the nonexistent other bodies on the bed.

When her hands meet nothing, she remembers where she is, and then jolts into awareness a few seconds later, panic running through her veins. She hadn’t even thought to contact Clint or Laura - or even spare an ounce of worry about them - the previous day.

Natasha feels guilt crushing her for a second, before she reminds herself that after the trauma of the previous day, it was a miracle that she’d even thought to try to contact Hill. In her exhaustion, her Red Room-bred instincts had reasserted themselves, and she couldn’t exactly do anything to fix that.

Taking a deep breath, she stands and checks the lock on the door before taking a long, hot shower, replacing her bandages, and changing into the clean clothes that had been left outside her door. There is no way to contact either of her spouses, or any of her children, for that matter, and worrying about them will only make her less functional. Half of the entire universe had been wiped out, which probably left thousands, if not millions, of positions with no one to fill them. She needs to be at her best.

Walking out into the halls of the palace gives her a distinct sense of melancholy. The hallways seem empty enough that she thinks there might be more than half the population missing, although when she thinks about it, she concludes that the last time she’d been in here, they’d been preparing for war.

As she passes a hallway, Steve falls into step with her. He has deep bags under his eyes, and probably didn’t sleep a wink the night before, but he’s up and walking, which is all anyone can really ask for. She keeps her eyes on the floor, not trusting her voice. They’ve both lost before, but never like this. Steve was only just getting back the best friend that he’d been missing for years, and Natasha -

Natasha’s immediate family has six people in it.

She refuses to think about what statistics will end up taking from her.

As they come to the lab where Shuri worked on Vision, they spot Bruce, curled up with his head on a table that seems like it was hastily cleared of important inventions. There’s no sign of anyone else, but there’s no ash anywhere in the lab, which Natasha counts as success.

She walks over to Bruce to try and move him to somewhere more comfortable, but Steve holds up a hand.

“What’s that?”

“Where?” asks Natasha. She’s been working with Steve long enough to trust his instincts and senses more than her own. If he says he hears something, she’s not going to doubt him.

Steve puts his fingers to his lips and walks to where a device is flashing, facing the wall, and beeping quietly. Natasha doubts anyone normal would have ever heard it, despite the eerie quiet that permeates the palace.

He picks it up and brings it over. It appears to be warning of something, although Natasha can’t read the characters on the screen. She only has time to recognize them as the language commonly spoken in Wakanda before it scans her and Steve and immediately translates everything into English.

“There’s a quinjet approaching,” notes Steve, quietly, fingers flying over the display. His voice is flat and gravelly, as if he’d spent the last thirteen hours screaming. Or crying. Natasha decides not to push him on it.

Suddenly, the device’s speakers crackle to life, sending Bruce crashing out of his precarious position. The message is staticy for sure, but Natasha has spent way too much of her life identifying that voice over patchy comms and five time zones. She has no doubts as to who’s approaching their position.

Steve notices the hitch in her breathing and turns to her, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Clint’s on his way, then?”

“I’d assume so,” says Natasha, trying in vain to keep herself seeming composed. Then blames her difficulties on the events of the previous week and lets a grin unfold. “I suppose we should warn the royal family?”

“Or what’s left of them,” says Steve darkly, turning to stare at Bruce, who’s struggling out of his rumpled heap on the ground and glancing up at them.

“Did I hear you say Clint’s coming?” he asks, running his hand through his hair and messing it up more. Natasha’s grin gets wider.

Tracking down Shuri, now the only remaining member of the royal family, and the head of the Dora Milaje, takes them a while, even though Bruce figures out how to use the technology fairly quickly and Natasha is a literal spy. They’re out on the landing pad by the time Clint gets there, though, and as he lands Natasha tries her best to compartmentalize. Clint is fine, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything about their family or anyone else. He’s always been relatively lucky, anyway, and -

And it doesn’t matter right now, Natasha’s mind whispers, as the ramp lowers and she sees Clint standing there. The others have stepped back to give them space, she registers distantly, and then ignores it. Her heart feels full and she wants to run up to him, reassure herself that he’s alright, but she forces herself to stay in place and catalogue his appearance.

He’s got a quiver on his back and a bow in his right hand. His legs are covered by some kind of black and gold design, though, and she squints to try to figure out what they are -

She realizes where she’s seen them before quickly. That design is a part of the gear designed for him long, long ago - before the Raft, before the Sokovia Accords, before even Loki. He would have to had break into a maximum security, Avengers-proof facility to get it. Something seems off.

Then it hits her. A costume change means that he’s hiding his identity. That means that he’s breaking his house arrest, and the Accords, to be here with them.

And he would never, especially not after people started dissolving into ash, leave their family alone to break the law and rejoin his team.

Clint reaches her just as her conclusion hits. She reaches towards him and hugs him tighter than she ever has before.

Cooper. Lila. Nathaniel. Laura.

All of them had, presumably, died with Thanos’ snap.

A glance at Clint’s face confirms it, especially after he looks into her eyes and nods. She sags against him, feeling all of her strength leave her at once.

Laura is dead. Natasha would never see her again, never smell her shampoo again, never feel the softness of her lips again.

Thanos had killed her, and their children, with stark impersonality, the same way he killed millions of others across the galaxy. Beings with loved ones left behind, jobs to finish, lives to live.

Clint finally pulls back, and close up, Natasha can see the redness in his eyes. She brings her hands to in front of her and signs, Do you know what happened?

I know enough, Clint signs back. He pauses and stares at her, his face full of sadness. I forgive you.

Good, signs Natasha, making her motions short and clipped to convey how angry she is. Then let’s make that bastard pay.