#verse: the refugee

[shinobinvku]

The more they had, the more that could be taken away from them, a final piece of wisdom passed onto the Hound and the Dragon so early in life. With one so focused on every mission at hand and the other driven by her singular goal, neither shinobi believed there could be room for anyone in their hearts. There could be no distractions, there could be no exceptions, but that was unreasonable. 

Starter for @hatredcurse | Kakashi

Lighting strikes off in the distance. A storm rages onward outside an abandoned building and the next thing Chitose knew, Kakashi was pulling her close, his masked mouth hot on her lips. Adrenaline courses through their veils after a new death experience and shows no signs of stopping despite both shinobi coming to their senses, allowing those soft kisses turn into a hungry desire that pins her up against the adjacent brick wall.

“Take my hand, show me where you want to be touched,” Kakashi whispers against the Dragon’s temple, his mask damp from heated kisses. 

Her golden eyes flit upward to meet Kakashi’s mix-matched gaze, brows furrowed and breath labored. She takes his gloved hand into hers, resting his palm caress her cheek, then allows it to slowly slip down to the base of her throat.

"Touch me wherever you want," she replies with a shuddered breath.

[uncharted-constellations]

Miles 🩷

Anyways it’s really cool that marvel had a character who was suddenly introduced into a new timeline where they didnt previously exist and has to deal with the ramifications of that alongside the loss of their previous mentor figure and friends.

And its really on brand that they barely explored any of that with miles and made up a new white boy with some extra fanfiction style sad ritz to have that storyline instead 🤡

[letsunity]

With Thunder Comes Lightning

Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.  

art by @gryphll

Chapter 4 - Appointment

Doctor appointments weren't MJ's favourite thing. She had a phobia of needles and other medical garbage. The smell of sterile stuff made her ill.

Of course, Peter has to be the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. For her safety, MJ had their new buddy.

"It's just a checkup. Everything's going to be fine," MJ told herself, biting her lower lip. "I don't feel fine. Ok. Can I have some encouragement?"

"I've never been to a hospital, so I can't accurately assure your safety," Miguel stated, the coldness of it concerning her. "I'll kill whoever comes too close. Does that help?"

"You're trying. That's helpful enough, tough guy."

"I suspect you're infantilising me."

"I have a baby growing in me. Everyone is an infant to me now. And you're, y'know, a decade younger than me."

His little grumble was cute.

MJ might not know how to make a portal watch or swing webs, but she could see when someone was hurt.

The entire situation hurt her best friend; Peter was a good man with a titanic heart, and it weighed heavily on him. She wanted to hug and tell him it was ok, but she couldn't lie to his face. She didn't know how this would turn out.

He cried himself to sleep last night. He was grieving the loss of his friends alone. He tended to put himself on an island when in pain, not wanting to put the burden on others. It was a selfless part of him she used to love, but now she worried.

Her best friend was in pain, as was her new friend.

"Is there anything that they can do here to help you?" MJ asked, her blue eyes wandering up to meet those dark sunglasses.

"There's nothing to help in my universe. I doubt it'll be any different here."

"You never know. They might have something for those allergies and the light thing."

"No."

"Hmm, that sounds like self-harm."

"It's not undeserved."

"What is it with Spidermen and being all self-sacrificing?"

"We have the power to do something. We can do enough to make a significant change. By sacrificing ourselves, the people we protect can rest in peace. That's what it means to be Spiderman."

"Almost sounds like a quote."

"It was. From the Spiderman of my universe before me."

He was from the future, but MJ didn't even consider there might have been a previous Spiderman. Was it like Peter and Miles?

It's exciting learning about other universes.

"What was he like? The one before you?"

"I never met him. He died long, long before I came to be. When Klyntarus ruled our universe, there weren't any heroes or anybody with the power to do something - I'm... still alone on that front. But he was a good man from what I understand."

At least Peter had co-workers, allies and friends.

She was sad knowing that Peter had died there. All of the other heroes, too. It wouldn't be surprising if Klyntarus had something to do with that.

It's sweet that he was inspired by the original Spiderman, though.

He's right, though. If you can make a change for the better, you should.

The creed of Spiderman is to put others before yourself; it's a heavy burden but an honourable one. She respected it.

"I'm glad that he inspired you."

"Gracias."

MJ didn't like the smell of the hospital entrance. It was messy, sterile and also tainted with puke. Thankfully, she wasn't alone in her disgust.

"Oh, mierda. Huele como una morgue horneada," he hissed, cringing.

"No idea what you said, tough guy, but agreed."

She didn't enjoy having to sign in. The receptionists weren't interested in being helpful, mostly ignoring MJ. They only started to pay attention when Miguel growled; it reminded MJ of a pissed-off cane corso.

Having a giant buff Latino vampire proved helpful. He's like a bodyguard, scaring people into listening to her. She used to do that for Peter when people ignored him for being a nerd.

She loves nerds. They've got so many interests and know many intriguing things. They can never bore you.

With the giant having kidnapped their attention, MJ was finally able to get things moving. All they had to do now was linger in the cesspool of stench until her doctor could be assed.

MJ's not happy about sitting on a warm chair surrounded by sick people, all looking as pleased as her.

She hates hospitals.

"How's your first hospital visit?"

"Mierda."

"Agreed."

Although MJ didn't have spidey sense, she had bullshit sense, courtesy of being a little redhead spitfire. She could detect something akin to one of those space wizards in those movies that Peter enjoyed.

There is a foulness in the force.

With some scouring, MJ spotted the source of the foulness. It was a woman glowering at her and her friend, paler than carved marble; she must be anaemic.

MJ's been around long enough to see one of those people.

She's not standing for it. She might be eight months pregnant and a shorty, but MJ had a spider's spirit.

Hopefully, she could distract him from that witch.

"If it's not rude for me to ask, is Nueva a Spanish version of new york?"

"No. It was destroyed in the calamity of 2038 and was rebuilt by Hector Nueva, soon named after him. I'm just Mexican. A little Irish, too."

"You're a damn big leprechaun."

"Very funny. I'm more like a Chupacabra, anyway."

"And here I thought you didn't like vampires."

"I don't. Vampires suck. Chupacabras are cool."

"They do suck."

"You're worse than Parker."

"I take that as a compliment, thank you."

Peter will feel much better knowing that she's not alone. She's got a buddy guard to protect her from any ominous sludge.

All Miguel has to do is sit in the corner and be spooky.

She was due measurements, weighing, blood pressure, a quick ultrasound, and possibly a pelvic exam - she hated those. It's so awkward and invasive.

While MJ should want nobody else in the room, she doesn't get a pervy vibe from Miguel. He didn't react when she came out of the shower, not bothered or even interested. He didn't have a single care about that sort of thing.

Her bullshit sense often intertwines with her gaydar. He's not straight; she knew that much. If she were a gambler, MJ would put her money on asexual.

Does he know what that is? She might ask later.

"MJ."

"Yeah?"

"We need to leave."

"Wait, is it him? Is he coming?" MJ questioned.

She was scared of being too close to that monster. It's hurt her friends so much, and she hasn't even seen it.

MJ didn't get to ask more as a roar echoed from outside.

Before she knew what was happening, she was facing the pale ceiling, bright orange webbing keeping her there. Several other people were up as well, but not her surprise roommate.

A suited Miguel was beneath her in the waiting room, his hands gripping the thick horn of nonother than Aleksei Sytsevich, also known as the Rhino.

Something was wrong, though. His thick hide was burned and scorched, ooze dripping and refusing to mix with his blood.

His face, usually mixed with rage and bloodlust, was full of fear and anguish. Most of his face was gone, reduced to burned bone. He only had a single eye, but she doubted he could see from it.

"Помогите мне кто-нибудь!" Rhino roared, his voice bloodcurdling and terrified. "Обжигает! Обжигает!"

MJ didn't understand Russian, but she knew he was in agony.

A black sludge ripped from his spine, red eyes scowling at Miguel.

"2099! What a coincidence! Such a little universe, hmm?" Klyntarus cackled, forcing Rhino to push forward. "Such weak little bodies. Can you imagine how it feels to be a flame sailing a sea of kerosene?"

"Eres toda mía, perra mocosa!"

"I look forward to you trying."

She winced as Rhino cried again, begging for help that couldn't come.

Klyntarus rammed into Miguel again, pushing him through the empty reception desk. People were running in panic, terrified.

MJ scrambled for her phone, texting Peter as quickly as she could. As soon as he realised she was there, it would go to ultimate shit.

Pick up your damn phone, Parker!

Peter hopped past Morbius' claws, finding them far less impressive than Miguel's. Honestly, the vamp had nothing on Peter's roommate.

He didn't have Miguel's power or claws; even Miguel's fangs were much more intimidating. The red of his eyes had much more potency than Morbius'.

"You are depriving some village of their idiot!" Morbius sneered, trying to pierce Peter.

"And Twilight is missing one of its vamps!"

Peter jumped on the ledge of a balcony, cracking his aching back.

He wasn't sure how to feel about Morbius now. He was somewhat interested at the beginning. After ten years, though? it got old.

At this point, Morbius was the villain of the week.

Weirdly, he felt like a knockoff compared to his fellow spider. He didn't have the same energy or vibe.

He can't put it into words exactly, but compared to Miguel, Morbius is nothing.

"That movie is an insult to what makes vampires so-"

"-Lame?" Peter finished, uninterested. "Are you going to sparkle now?"

"Insolent brat!"

"I'm almost forty, dude."

"You're younger than me, so you're a brat!"

Man, so this is how Miguel felt.

He's still going to annoy him over being younger. What friend would Peter be if he didn't?

When Morbius pounced, Peter jumped onto a nearby roof, feeling his cracked phone buzz. He should ignore it, given he's fighting a "mighty" foe, but his senses demand otherwise.

Peter looked at his phone, seeing a missed call from MJ. Was she done with her appointment already? That was quick!

The text, however, told him otherwise.

Fuck Peter with a salty menorah. He's there.

"I've got a thing. Debate movies with you later, Mikey!"

"Darn you, Spiderman!"

"Whatever!"

He wasted no chance racing towards the hospital, and police were already surrounding the chaos. He landed upon a police car, fear dancing in his bones.

Peter's spidey senses were screaming to run away, but he couldn't. His friends and baby were in there.

As expected, Jameson was still kicking, talking to news cameras, no doubt blaming Peter for this, somehow. He's glad he quit working for that asshole; it was such a toxic environment.

Whatever, he's too old to care about what Jameson's whining about.

Peter swung inside, smelling the rot already. He's here alright. It disgusted him that Klyntarus was attacking a hospital, but he was already vile; Peter shouldn't be shocked at his evil.

There were glowing, orange webs on the ceiling where MJ's text said she'd been. He couldn't see her anywhere, so he would have to go looking. The trail of bloody melted viscera and rot was a good indicator.

The hospital looked like something out of a horror movie; it was decayed, in ruin. It's been infected by Klyntarus.

He was scared that he would find her and hurt them. He was terrified of being a father but even more afraid of losing his child.

Fuck, how can Miguel cope with losing his daughter? Peter hadn't even met his kid and was scared for them.

Peter crept through the ruins, cautiously stepping over suspicious mounds that stank of death. He relied on his spidey senses, but they were overwhelmed by that monster's presence.

Something big had barrelled through the hospital, almost like a torpedo or tank. It would take ages to fix this place up if that were even possible.

Klyntarus destroyed everything around him. It's likely that wherever he goes, it's inhospitable.

He saw some glowing web, a sign of his teammate. He followed it, finding a deep hole that ran so far down that Peter couldn't see the bottom. It appeared to reach the under levels of the hospital; there should only be a basement, though.

Another buzz from his damaged phone - a text!

Peter stared at it, analysing the three dancing dots that eventually became a message. His heart was tachycardic with worry and fear.

The older Spiderman ran, looking at the fading numbers on the doors he passed. He paused at 16B, the one that MJ's number indicated. Despite knowing it could be a trap, Peter broke the door open, scouring the room.

MJ was sitting beside a gurney. She was in shock, afraid and alone.

A recently deceased young man lay not far from her. He was horrifically burned, and most of his left leg was reduced to sludge. He died slowly; Peter knew that as soon as he spotted him.

He quickly came to his best friend's side, checking her for injuries.

"He had Rhino's body," MJ whimpered, shaking from the ordeal. "He was crying for help, Peter. Rhino. He was in agony."

That explained why the hospital had a giant hole in it.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Peter said, bridal carrying his close friend. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No. No, Miguel distracted him so we could run out. Something went wrong, though. The bodies didn't stay -"

"Parker!"

Peter twisted to the deceased man, who was now sitting up, black fluid running from his orifices. His eyes were empty, devoid of life, but something was in there, puppeteering him.

He was close to tightening his grip but knew it'd hurt MJ. He wouldn't do that to her.

She clung to his body, hiding her face in his chest.

"He will reign long, and your friend will be far too gone!" the corpse cackled, rotting at an astonishing rate. He melted to bones before Peter's eyes. Not even his clothes survived the rot.

As cryptic as that was, Peter knew what it was implying.

Peter had to get MJ outside first, however.

He made his way out of the hospital, feeling that fear fade with each step. The further from Klyntarus he was, the more confident he felt.

Did Klyntarus' very presence rot your soul? It seemed so.

"Keep her safe," Peter ordered a surprised and confused police officer, turning back towards the building. "And don't let anybody else inside. I mean it."

"It's the same thing that killed those heroes, isn't it?" the officer said, removing her jacket to cover MJ. "Don't die in there, Spiderman."

"I don't plan on it."

He couldn't make any promises.

So, fear growing in his chest, Peter returned to the leftover Walking Dead set. He wouldn't be shocked to find Rick Grimes' room where he was somehow untouched in a coma for a year.

That entire show was a fever dream; he was sure of it. After Glenn died, the only fun left was, ironically, Negan. He'll have to make Miguel watch that.

When he arrived at the suspicious hole, Peter jumped. His knees complained when he landed, cracking in all the wrong and unsatisfying ways.

The fear of Klyntarus was far more potent than before, suffocating Peter in an aura of fear and death.

He's not looking for that thing, though.

Peter quickly spotted the entrance to a tunnel that shouldn't exist.

Rhino's body lay mangled and twisted at the entrance like a macabre decoration. Instead of being melted, it looked like a savage beast and tore the poor bastard apart. He didn't want to be on the backside of whatever caused that.

He walked down the tunnels, listening out for his friend.

His senses went off, sending a tingle down his spine. He turned around, annoyed to see Morbius had followed him.

"Not the time, Count Lame-ula. Ugh, that sounded better in my head. Whatever, could you go and haunt some little kid's birthday party? I'm in the middle of something."

"What horrors could have created such strife?" Morbius asked, both in awe and horrified by the situation.

"An extradimensional genocidal evil Symbiote that decays whatever he touches. You should go before you eats you, too."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care."

"You're trying to deceive me!"

"Not everything is about you!"

"Fool! I am the reincarnation of the great Count Dracula!"

"Sure, and I'm the reincarnation of Link - see my little fairy, Navi? We're on our way to rescue Zelda," Peter sighed, rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Just go bother someone else, alright?"

Vampires suck.

Peter paused, feeling something else was down here. It wasn't Klyntarus, but it felt similar and yet distinct. He could feel it was nearby and dangerous, but not the precise position.

That "something" was coming and fast.

Of course, Morbius acted like a child and attempted to attack Peter while distracted. He wouldn't get the chance to get close, however.

A blur of red and dark pounced upon Morbius before he could reach Peter, his senses screaming at him to run. He couldn't see what it was but could hear the rabid rage and terrified cries.

Peter webbed the mysterious form and pulled it away from Michael, hearing a dog-like grunt of annoyance and frustration.

A pair of deep, red eyes stared back at Peter. They were similar to Klyntarus'; they had his unique shade, but Klyntarus didn't have pupils or irises. The eye shape was far too human to be Klyntarus, even if he tried to make a human body.

The eyes were what Peter was focused on at first, but then he saw what the rest of the red was.

A suit.

"Miguel?" Peter questioned, realising what, or rather who, he was looking at.

His pupils were so thin they were almost non-existent. He was shaking, breathing heavily and hunched over, foamy drool dripping onto the ground.

While Miguel didn't exist to Peter's spidey sense, this did. It wasn't the same as Klyntarus, but it was similar enough.

Miguel was swallowing air. It's like he was in a scary trance, trapped far away.

His claws were out, ready to scratch something that wasn't there. His fingers were shaking so much.

Peter felt like he was looking at a werewolf, pure instinct and consciousness battling for control, and the former was dominant.

Morbius shifted into shadows, reforming behind "Miguel". It was a stupid idea, for Miguel turned and bit Morbius' arm.

Having seen what it could do to Klyntarus, Peter grabbed his friend. The stupid villain was clawing at Miguel's face, trying to make him let go. Glowing blue was dripping from Morbius' arm - the venom was already being delivered.

"Get it off me!" Morbius yelled, turning his vampiric claws to Miguel's neck. He wouldn't let go, eyes staring at something that wasn't there.

It was clear Miguel wasn't there. He couldn't hear Peter, stuck in this bizarre and scary trance.

An idea came to Peter.

He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it directly into Miguel's eyes.

The trance version of his friend yowled, letting go to cover his eyes. While Morbius had left deep scratches on his face, the photophobia forced him to let go.

Morbius stumbled back, his arm shaking horribly.

Ignoring the vampire, Peter grabbed Miguel's shoulders, trying to figure out what was happening.

His "buddy" dropped his arms loosely, glowering towards Peter, but it didn't seem directed at him.

"It's me. It's Peter, alright?" Peter said, trying to get through to him. "How about we sit down? Does that sound good?"

He knew Miguel was much more powerful than him, but Peter's faster. If he needed to, Peter could stick to the walls or ceiling.

Encouraging his distant friend to sit down, Peter watched him, paying attention to his eyes.

Without any stimulation, he watched the redness in his eyes fade. When the red left, some awareness returned, replaced by confusion.

"What happened?" Peter asked, glancing at the groaning Morbius still clutching his arm.

"Había mucho ruido," Miguel muttered, rubbing his eyes. "He tried to take me. Estúpido bastardo."

The corpse's warning.

Did Klyntarus trigger a flight or fight response, only instead of Miles' invisibility, Miguel went rabid? It could've been a PTSD thing, too.

"Where's MJ?"

"She's safe," Peter said, feeling Klyntarus' presence growing. "We need to go."

Peter grabbed the taller man's side, feeling his broken ribs. That never seemed to stop him.

"I can move."

"I don't doubt that, but you still seem out of it."

The possession attempt had an impact, as he was still spaced out. It was like he was stoned or drunk.

"Happens sometimes," his friend grunted, a noise that did things Peter wished it didn't. "I didn't hurt you?"

"No. All I'm hurting from is arthritis."

"I always hurt someone..."

He didn't like hearing the sadness and regret there. And Peter couldn't say that he hadn't. He attacked Morbius and must've killed Rhino, though that seemed to be a mercy.

"Indeed."

Peter scowled at Morbius' body, watching "his" head tilt. While Peter was focused on Miguel, he didn't even realise Morbius got snatched.

He didn't like the guy, but Morbius didn't deserve that fate.

The kidnapped body was already starting to decay.

"I'm going to take everything from you, Peter. I'll break you in ways you didn't think could be broken. And I'll have him, too," Klyntarus vowed, tilting Morbius' head too far to the right. "I'll let you play with my toy for now. It'll make it all the easier to break him after I've shredded your soul."

"What's to stop me from walking over there and ripping you out of there?"

"Because you're like all the other Parkers I've eaten. You don't kill, even when you want to. You won't kill me while I'm in someone's body. It's cowardice I thankfully bred out of my true body." His friend hissed, but it only made Klyntarus smile. "You've come so far from the fragile ball of flesh I ripped from that whore wetback."

Peter can't kill. It's his greatest strength and his weakness. How is he meant to beat something that'll only stop if it's destroyed?

He needed to get Miguel out of here and look after MJ. He had to find somewhere safe for her to stay.

Regardless of how his friend felt, they needed help. They were going to get the X-Men for backup.

"Until I find a more suitable temporary vessel, Parker. Farewell."

Peter shot a web at Morbius' possessed body, but he vanished into shadow.

Another day where he could've done something but didn't have the balls. That was a theme he was getting angry at.

"Maldito cobarde."

"Yeah, to whatever you said, pal."

Xavier's going to have a field day over this.

Special thanks to spider-the-bat for the borders!

[madrigaljail]

Oh hey Jared answered my question. Sort of.

[frozenambiguity]

inardescere asked:

"Look over here, Kaeya. Sit still, okay?" Excited little red eyes shine as his hands are hidden behind his back. He waits until he has the other little boy's full attention, bobbing on his heels. Then, he lifts a very empty hand, no tricks behind his sleeves! Then waves his pointed finger in the air like casting a spell. "Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" A bop to his cute tiny nose, grinning wide before he turns heel and runs away, out the door with a squeal. (Lil Luc up to no good(?). It's sorta based on an interview Midorikawa did so if you want the link to the video www tell me on discord)

«...?» An innocent gaze lifts from colorful building blocks to the young boy before him. Expectation and curiosity grow at the unanticipated request, though a hint of shyness may veil them.

Lately, Kaeya had noticed, the boy had been making an extra effort to interact and play with him. All right, all right — maybe not lately. Diluc had always been enthusiastic about the newcomer, perhaps wanting company in the form of a new friend. Indeed, maybe this was all about perception, for people experienced time differently depending on their own experiences and circumstances. Now that Kaeya was slowly warming up to his presence, to him, he was starting to notice the redhead's efforts more and more.

It is a good sensation. It makes him feel... warm inside, he thinks. However, they are not close enough for the younger child to predict what is going on inside the head of the older one. So, Kaeya blinks. Only when he hears the magic spell and feels the boop on his nose does he fully close his eyes. An innate response, due to not expecting the redhead's actions. Equally unexpected is the gentle smile that appears on his features and the innocent breath that escapes his nose — not fully a giggle, but the starting of one that was interrupted midway.

Eye shuts open when Kaeya feels the other turn on his heel.

«Wait...!» Thrown to the side are the building blocks, feet preparing to sprint after the redhead as a tiny hand tries to reach for the back that slowly vanishes. Wait for me.

That day, Kaeya found out that playing with building blocks was fun. And that playing with Diluc was even better.

[nana-glass-chillhop-radio-hour]

Ep28 is wrecking me emotionally and I am only 16 minutes in. Help.

"We could use a killer up there"

"I don't want to be his attack dog" + "I hear myself saying it and I know how it sounds and I know it's the worst possible time" / "It might be the only time" (also literally #girl I don't think you need to justify why you don't want to die in guerilla combat for a god you don't believe in? No is a complete sentence? But still good on Faulkner for like, shutting that shame spiral down in the moment at least)

"They're not my people anymore" vs the earlier "you'll always be my people, Faulkner"... there's so much there. Who are Carpenter's people these days? Is it literally just a circle w Faulkner in it and that's it? I'm already gonna write fic about this, I can just tell

"I've got something prepared" / "of course you do"

That's just the writing...don't even get me started on the voice acting, I'm already emotionally compromised

[betweenheroesandvillains]

.

[leomonae]

guys help, it turns out my "no plot, only characters" problem is not being fixed by just adding in more characters :(

[organichotchoco]

You know how everyone's introducing Reddit to Tumblr culture? Reddit should do it too!

I don't want classics like Rimjob_Steve, The ol' reddit switcheroo, Disney_Vacation... CBAT..Coconut....Jolly Rancher...

okay nevermind we can just burn it all down/s

[ina2ari]

where r the spiderverse artists

i just got on here and i need some ppl to follow

[shinobinvku]

"Apply pressure to the wound for a moment, Taichou. I'm going to grab some supplies." Chitose murmured. A gloved hand guides his to rest upon the gash across his oblique, giving it a little pat. Then, she leaves his side momentarily to rummage through her pack. They're stuck in an abandoned building in the middle of an icy storm. With no signs of letting up, they may have to hunker down where they are for the night. For @009720kakashi | Kakashi They were actually pretty lucky to have found this building. It gave them at least some shelter and time to recover a bit.  He did put pressure on the wound, after about 30 seconds he got up though. Kakashi was not good at being a patient. Though that was not entirely true. In the hospital he was actually not that bad. There he tended to do what he was told since he wanted to get out fast and be cleared for duty. In the field…nah…there were more important things than some cuts and bruises. Also technically he was still putting pressure on the wound and she had not said to not get up right? He felt sore and exhausted. It had been a rough fight but the mission was a success. The copy nin went over to the window to look outside. The tomoe of the Sharingan circling around his pupil lazily while taking in the outside. There was nothing suspicious. At least not for now. He made a face. The gash throbbed uncomfortably. “I’ll take the first watch” he said, looking at her. “Take some rest” he added. After a moment he added. “That was good work there Ryuketsu.” The copy nin was usually rather reluctant with praise. They were elite shinobi. It was their job to be good. However she had been exceptionally good on this mission. 

They were given simple orders: search and destroy. Their enemies were many and they fought admirably, but the Hound and the Dragon managed to lay them to waste. There was so much carnage. They work well as a team, anticipating each other’s movements like partners on a dancefloor. They were sleek. The two were cohesive, but the dance was deadly and bloody.

The Dragon should’ve known better than to turn her back on the Copy Ninja, for the moment she did, her captain was up, wandering the building, leaving behind a small blood trail wherever he went. Quickly, Chitose set the supplies aside and followed him over to the window. 

“Hey—” She hissed. Though she may be smaller than Kakashi, she is fierce. Chitose grabs her captain by the arm and with all her strength remaining, turns him around, urging him to return to where he lay.

“Are you daft? I didn’t say you could get up. You’re in no condition to be walking around. You’re bleeding all over the damn floor. Let me take care of your wounds first, and then we’ll decide who takes the first watch.” 

He makes her work twice as hard when he acts like this. Her body is exhausted from the fight, but she’s certain to have enough chakra to seal the gash at his side. The Dragon removes her mask to gain a better view of the situation, carefully removing her Captain’s flak vest and peeling up the black undershirt. She has a rather dark bruise on the left side of her face, a split lower lip, and some swelling on her cheekbone. 

“Thank me after my job is done, Taichou. I still have plenty of work to do,” She says, sighing.

[fatewoven]

i’ll be so lonely. / @avernusdamned

Any light source in this accursed land — its dark misery adding to their own as refugees wandering without home, and perhaps soon without hope — is crystalline and fragile, fractured and faint, trickled through and hoarded by souls on the verge of desperation. Stoking the forge fire proves a grim necessity when they have to divide resources. Each minute he's not working is a minute wasted; later, it's unsure if anything he's accomplished made a difference when half of their group disperses into the dark. Dammon knows, heart weary, that the moment they stepped foot with shaking torches and the fresh, gleaming weapons he's outfitted them with, that they will not meet again. Not by the morrow, and certainly not in Baldur's Gate.

Every day there's less and less Harpers to resupply with weapons and armor. There's less need to arm anyone when so many are resigned to their deaths, the sentiment unspoken and etched clearly in forlorn expressions. His is no different as he stares at the weakening barriers, and yet, on a fateful day with only embers burning within the forge, he feels it: that unmistakable echo of infernal iron, his senses honing toward it like a compass. He thinks maybe, maybe, maybe...

Karlach and her group bring more alive than any hoped, and that's cause enough for renewed hope. Her smile proves infectious as always, though already shadowed at the corners, and sitting by the forge, watered-down ale shared between them, Dammon tilts his head. Furrows his brows as his tail twitches, agitated. "I really wish I had better news to give you. I do." His work-worn hand palms over her wrist, squeezing tight, less reassuring than he'd like. "Hollow as it may sound at the present, I still want to say: don't lost hope. There's a chance we could figure out something in Baldur's Gate. Promised, didn't I? If I weren't a smith of my word, I wouldn't be much of anything at all." It rings true with self-deprecation, quickly hidden by a smile. "And selfishly? I'm glad you're here." Still alive. Still burning bright.

[letsunity]

With Thunder Comes Lightning

Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.

art by @Aba_zakyX

Chapter 2 -  Never Left Behind

Peter crouched on the rooftop, scowling at the location where his friends and co-workers were killed.

The police were gone, finally.

He swung down, landing outside of the police tape barrier. Even in the dark, Peter could see the damage. The road, pavement, and even the walls of buildings were horrifically corroded.

Anybody that lived nearby was evacuated, and the smell alone was telling. Toxic fumes that would kill a regular person hung like menacing mistletoe.

Peter can see the outlines of what used to be his comrades.

"Was there anything I could've done for them?" Peter asked, knowing his new buddy was standing behind him.

"No. They died quicker than most, so that's a small mercy."

It didn't feel like it.

Miguel stalked past Peter, making no sound despite his size. He wandered around the crime scene, examining the spots where Peter's comrades used to be.

He saw the eye markings narrow intently, analysing everything. He watched Miguel pause at a single spot, prodding something.

Hopping over the tape, Peter joined his side, finding charred bone sticking from the concrete. It made him feel sick.

It was a femur, and the size betrayed that it was Luke Cage's bone.

Peter had to lift his mask, emptying his stomach. Seeing his friend reduced to that made him ill. Regret, grief and guilt swarmed Peter like locusts to an open field. Ten plagues danced throughout his soul, and come to the final wrath, was no lamb's blood on his door to save him from the inner pain.

Pain fused and interwoven with anger.

That fucking thing killed his friends, stripped them to the bone and ate them. It was Peter's fault, of course. If he just listened, he would've been irritating Murdock about something dumb and boring.

He won't get those fun team-ups anymore.

"You were close," Miguel stated, though no emotion was in his voice.

"Yeah, we were," Peter answered, feeling a hollowness start to claw in his chest. "He helped MJ and me move into our new place. Cage was a good man. All he did was help people; he didn't deserve to go like this."

"The greatest stars shine the brightest but are snuffed the fastest. It's a saying in Nueva York. The good fall and become the stairs for the wicked to climb higher."

"How can somebody be reduced to nothing but a step?"

"By something that never valued life in the first place. Life tends to be most valuable when it's already gone."

"What book did you get that from? Because damn."

"My mother."

"Must be a smart lady."

"She was. Better than I could ever be."

"I feel the same about Aunt May and Uncle Ben. It's hard comparing yourself to great people when you're a major fuckup."

He heard a gruff of agreement.

Aunt May was a pillar of Peter's life, his mother figure, a great woman he aspired to be like. While Uncle Ben gave him the "With great power, comes great responsibility", May was the one who taught him what that meant.

It would be helpful if she were here. She always knew what to do, but Peter was a bumbling mess.

How could he be a father when he causes the death of his friends?

"Parker!"

Peter swivelled to his teammate, watching as Miguel stalked towards an alleyway.

"You find something?"

"A trail. He might still be nearby."

Peter could avenge them. He could do something right.

That bastard was going to pay for what he did.

He stuck close to Miguel's side, trying to see what he did. The other Spider behaved like a hunter, tracking his prey, slowly reaching a warehouse.

It's surprising how many of those there are in New York.

"Do you smell that?" Miguel asked, lowering himself cautiously. "Unnatural decay is always a sign."

He nodded to rot in the concrete walls that shouldn't be there.

Klyntarus sucked life from everything, even if it were inanimate.

The duo snuck towards a window, peeking into the darkness within. It looked abandoned and derelict, but there was far too much inside for that to be. There are expensive crates of valuables.

Although the date stated it arrived only a few days ago, the wood of the crates looked like they were left to the elements for years.

Unnatural rot, a tell-tell trait of Klyntarus' presence.

Miguel held a finger to the window, a claw popping out of the finger pad. He jostled the lock and pushed the window up slowly.

"How do I get some of that in my suit?"

"They're not part of the suit."

"So, you've got actual claws?"

"You stick to walls; I get claws."

"You can't stick to walls? Dude, seriously?"

"Not the time, Parker."

"What else have you got? Or don't have?"

"Silencio!" Miguel hissed, "We don't want him to know we're here."

That made sense.

Peter was still curious, though. He recalled how Noir had more endurance, that Penni was quick, and Porker had "Hammerspace". Then there was Gwen, who had far more agility than the others and Miles could go invisible.

Do all Spider-people have something unique to them?

It felt like Peter only had extra weight. That sucked.

The warehouse stank of decay. There's a scorched trail on the floor and suspicious mounds of former people. The gang must've been trying to protect them.

Out of curiosity, Peter looked in one of the crates, finding several packaged gadgets. There are all kinds of Apple devices, some Windows, Samsung, Sony and more. It must be a warehouse for a supermarket or a store, maybe even a shopping mall.

He came here to fix that sphere thing, didn't he? Eat the people inside and use the technology to repair himself.

Peter started to shake, his Spider senses going haywire. He webbed to the ceiling, attaching to it, unable to stop the shivering. He couldn't turn his head when Miguel joined him, his claws deep into the wall.

Fear sang throughout his bones, a NASCAR race of terror screeching in his very atoms.

The image of his friends melting into ash clouded his vision, a fog that was so thick it clung to the back of his throat. The weight of guilt caused his grip to loosen, but Miguel caught him.

Feeling someone touch him managed to snap Peter out of being frozen, Miguel's arm tight around his waist.

His fellow Spider released his grip, landing on a high support beam. He attached to it instantly, his fingers gripping the metal so tight that it dented.

A door opened, giving Peter something to distract himself with. He watched as Black Cat stumbled into the warehouse, but his senses warned that it wasn't her.

Miguel gripped Peter's shoulder, keeping him from going to her.

"Lo siento..."

He didn't understand what that meant. He would find out, though.

Black Cat shivered, gripping her arms as slime leaked from her face. He could smell the burning flesh already.

The skin went first, then the fat, the fascia and the muscle; it melted away until there was only blackened bone. That, too, was destroyed, reduced to mere ash.

Fuck, not Felicia. She was finally getting her life together with her new wife.

The offending sludge that took his friend twisted and coiled, creating a humanoid-like body. The "scars", as Miguel called them, pulsed akin to a heartbeat; those red eyes locked onto an office room.

"I'll distract him. Destroy the stabiliser."

"And leave you to fight him alone? Daredevil, Cage, Jones, She-Hulk and Iron Fist didn't do squat together."

"You burn, I don't. Simple as that. Move fast and get this over with, Parker."

Before Peter could argue, Miguel jumped to the ground, alerting Klyntarus.

"Ahh, 2099, you still live," Klyntarus chuckled almost gleefully. "I'll admit, you hurt me badly. I'm proud."

Safe to say that Klyntarus is distracted.

Peter crawled on the ceiling, making his way towards the office. It looked rotten, more than the rest of the building, so he must be hunkered in there. As soon as Peter destroys that damn thing, they can burn the bastard.

"Shove it. You know what I'm here for."

"You don't have a Venom Burst, so that'll be mighty tough. And your fancy trinket is broken, so negative on the backup, not even that sassy little assistant. You're all alone, 2099. Just the way I like you."

Even in his injured state, he was taunting and acting like he wasn't in danger. Hopefully, he was so up his ass - or the Symbiote equivalent - he won't realise that Miguel's distracting him.

Peter's senses were on the fritz, panicking like a bucking rodeo horse. He had to focus, though. The sooner they break this bastard, the fewer people will die.

Klyntarus wandered away from the office-like part, the tail-like appendage dragging on the floor. He was giggling, fixated on Miguel.

"Just like Alchemex Tower; cuando huiste como el maldito cobarde que eres."

Peter lowered himself to the floor as carefully as possible, using all two decades of experience. When his feet touched the ground, he crept towards the office, the pungent smell staining his suit.

Thankfully, Klyntarus was too focused on Miguel to notice him. Occasionally, narcissists were much easier to fight than competent people.

The door was melted like ice cream on a hot day, nothing more than squishy splinters.

On a desk that was soon to crumble was the damned sphere he should've stamped on before.

"Ahhhh, memories. That was a grand day. For me, of course. How is my old stomping ground? Been a while since I last visited."

That's right, big guy. Keep him distracted.

"Nueva was never yours. Nothing of my or any other dimension is."

Peter cracked his knuckles, uncertain how he was going to destroy it. It's already damaged; the parts strewn about were signs of an attempted repair.

All Peter had to do was undo the repairs. That should be simple enough. Right?

He picked up a crowbar lodged in the wall, potentially from a worker fighting for their life.

"It's cute that you believe that. It was always mine and always will be, just like you. You belong to me, 2099. You'll realise that soon enough."

What did Klyntarus mean by that? His damned curiosity was starting to interfere with the objective.

"I promised to kill you. I don't break promises."

"Aww, but you do, don't you? You broke the one to your whore mother and mistake of a daughter - I know you'll taste even sweeter than she did!"

Oh, fuck.

Miguel had a kid. He was a dad like Peter would be, and Klyntarus took that from him.

That's what he meant - isn't it? When he said that Klyntarus made him Spiderman. He took Miguel's family.

"Estás muerto!"

"Only on the inside, little Border Rat! And like little Gabrielle," he taunted, cackling like the lunatic he was.

So not only is he a genocidal dimension eater but racist, too. Great. A cherry on top of the corrupted cupcake.

Peter struck the sphere with the crowbar, hitting it as hard as possible.

He heard a demonic, distorted screech of surprise and rage. The ground under him started to rumble violently. He saw a black and red mass racing towards the office through the window, barrelling like a bat out of hell.

Glowing orange webs wrapped around the parasite, pulling him back.

With each strike, Peter could feel the integrity weaken, and sparks started to fly. His spidey senses were on fire, writhing with panic and terror.

His tingles screamed, forcing him to jump and stick to the ceiling. A spear-like tendril shot through the window, glass falling like spilt glitter. It reared back and went for Peter, trying to impale him.

He hadn't let go of the stupid sphere, digging his fingers so hard into it that they were beginning to bleed through his suit.

Peter pounced out of the doorway, swinging to the rafters. A thick tendril went after him but couldn't even graze his suit.

The spikes on Miguel's forearms had fused into blades, slicing through like a hot knife to butter.

"I will kill everything you hold dear!" Klyntarus vowed, chasing after Peter with astonishing speed.

Miguel leapt onto Klyntarus' "face", starting to sink instantly. He clawed at Klyntarus' eyes, following them whenever they moved to escape his onslaught.

"Go, now!" Miguel yelled, his mask disappearing. "¡Rápido, rápido!" his eyes were almost glowing as red as Klyntarus'.

Peter kicked a skylight open and started running.

Get somewhere high and far, beat this blasted thing and save the day. And don't you dare die, big guy.

As much as Peter wanted to go somewhere and focus only on destroying the sphere, he couldn't leave his comrade behind. It wasn't right.

It wasn't right when Peter left Miles behind. He should've treated the kid better. He can't change that, but he can do better now.

Klyntarus wanted Miguel alone. Unfortunately for him, Peter wasn't going to allow that.

Peter hopped to a rooftop, looking for somewhere to hide the sphere. He didn't know if it had an actual name; it didn't matter.

He found an old pigeon hutch-house thingy, and although it's about as flimsy as wet paper, it's still better than nothing. He carefully placed the ominous orb inside, hoping he wouldn't be the only Spiderman again.

It's nice to have someone like you around, even if they're a little prickly.

Great. It's somewhere safe.

Roughly.

Peter hurried back, worried at what that crazy thing could've done by now. He felt terrible leaving his houseguest alone, especially with how twisted Klyntarus was.

The skies began to open, rain falling with haste.

He was worried about MJ. He learned how vindictive Klyntarus was; it put her in grave danger. Their unborn child was at risk.

He didn't listen and was paying the price for it. He still wasn't.

Miguel told him to go, and here he was, running straight back to a fight he couldn't win. It would be wrong to leave someone behind to a monster like that. How could Peter ever live with himself knowing he let somebody die?

It's painful enough with his friends, his old captain, his uncle, his aunt - his entire family except for his best friend and soon-to-be child. Not even Felicia was around anymore.

He missed the other spiders - Noir, Peni, Porker, Gwen, Miles; they showed him he wasn't alone.

They taught him that he could be a better man.

That kid saved Peter's life in more ways than one. He gave Peter hope for the future again. He got Peter to face his fear of parenthood and wanted Miles to be the baby's middle name - that kid was an inspiration.

What would Miles think if Peter was told to run and didn't go back to help somebody? The hypothetical disappointment was terrifying.

He had somebody else to add to the list of fellow spiders.

In a way, spider people are a unique species, close but different to humanity. It's so weird - since he got bitten, he felt like he was the last of his kind, only to find others.

Peter crouched atop the warehouse roof, hearing the wrathful shrieking of Klyntarus inside. His spidey senses were terrified, demanding that he flee and never return as Miguel ordered.

Narrowing his eyes, Peter looked through the broken window, searching for any dark blue.

"Where is it, you revolting abomination?!" Klyntarus roared, smashing everything inside the warehouse. "Where!?"

Finally, Peter spotted his teammate.

Klyntarus had him pinned to the wall, writhing darkness constricting around him.

"Debajo del sofá!"

"Oh, you think you're being cute!?" Klyntarus seethed, tightening his hold.

"Soy tan mono!"

Peter needed to learn Spanish immediately.

In a rage, Klyntarus threw Miguel into the other wall, then slammed him into the floor with a tendril. With the velocity, Peter knew that it hurt, but even so, the other Spider was making fun of the parasite.

Yep, he's a spider.

He waited with his web-shooter at the ready. As expected, Klyntarus threw the other Spider again, and Peter fired.

The web attached to Miguel's back, and Peter pulled, his spider senses panicking as Klyntarus shrieked again.

"I told you to run," Miguel hissed as Peter aimed for the nearest building. "Why'd you come back?"

"Never leave a spider behind, twinkle toes!" Peter stated, feeling the roof under them start to shake. "That's not good."

A black tendril shot from behind Peter, wrapping around his arm and pulling him down. Although Miguel went to grab him, he only succeeded in scratching Peter's hand.

Those claws hurt!

"You!" Klyntarus roared, engulfing much of Peter's body with his mass. It burned, regardless of his superhuman endurance. "I will make you watch as I destroy everything you love, Parker!"

"I think you're mad at me," Peter snarked, despite the intense weight starting to crush his body.

"I h-AHH!" Klyntarus yelped, those horrid eyes twisting to... Why is Miguel biting his body!? "How dare-no, fuck, no!"

Light blue was growing through the red scars, burning the blackness around them. It quickly reached the part holding Peter, loosening the ironclad grip.

Klyntarus had no choice but to break away from the afflicted part, dropping Peter. The hot ash clung to Peter's suit, quickly hardening in the cold rain falling on them.

He felt hands pulling him as a distorted roar echoed in Peter's ears and the sound of crumbling.

Though his spidey senses were in a panic, Peter struggled to move.

Everything went dark for what felt like a few seconds.

When consciousness returned, he wasn't in a warehouse anymore - or he was, and lay in what remained. He tried to move, but having several tonnes of concrete on you sucks.

Peter's chest hurt, his hand burned like fire, and everything was too dark. His head was thundering.

Peter grumbled, feeling that his leg was stuck. He can move a little, meaning he isn't fully submerged; that's nice.

His eyes blinked, adapting to the lack of light. He saw red eyes, bright and vibrant, but his spidey sense wasn't reacting.

Even so, Peter hit the light.

"¡Ay, coño!"

Oh, shit!

"Miguel?" Peter panted, realising the spooky scars weren't around.

"Hijo de puta, who else?" Miguel hissed, "Try not hitting me while I keep us from being crushed. ¿Te parece bien?"

Everything hurts, but they're still alive.

"The hell happened, man?"

"Caused the building to collapse. You were stuck to the floor, so... I improvised."

When Peter's eyes were fully adapted, he saw what Miguel meant. The man was singlehandedly keeping the building from turning Peter into a paste.

He had it all pushing on his back, but he remained unwavering.

"You could've run," Peter said, unsure why he said it.

"Never leave a spider behind. That's what you said, araña testaruda."

He did. It felt good having that stupidity repaid.

By working together, they managed to push the concrete away, revealing the frigid rain.

Peter's entire body hurt, and he expected his comrade to feel the same.

He wanted a warm bath, hot cocoa, and to listen to MJ's dumb puns. Instead of dad jokes, they had mom jokes.

"Buddy, you allergic to hot cocoa?"

"¿Qué? What, is that a fruit?"

"We've got a lot of things to cross off a list, my guy."

A hot bath was more than warranted.

"My everything aches," Peter sighed, glancing at MJ as she brushed her teeth. "We made progress, at least."

"You two were pretty battered," MJ said, spitting minty spit foam into the sink. "Did you make progress against the evil goop or with Miguel?"

"Both."

"Hmm, there's a "but" in there."

"Miguel had a daughter. Klyntarus killed her. He taunted him about it." His best friend turned, sympathy and fear growing on her graceful features. "And he threatened us. I'm worried he'll come after you and our yet-to-be roommate."

It's an understandable fear, especially given what Klyntarus was.

He couldn't begin to know how Miguel felt. No wonder he was so furious with Peter.

Peter didn't even know the baby in MJ's organic oven, but he would die for them. He couldn't bare having that baby, and some sinister snot comes and takes them away forever.

"Do you think we should leave him alone for a bit?" she asked, wanting to be as accommodating as possible.

Her heart was even more gigantic than all forty-nine states combined.

On a side note, good for Hawaii for their independence.

"No," Peter answered, though he wasn't sure. "I think Klyntarus has kept him alone for long enough."

"I understand the holo-suit a lot more now. You don't need so much detergent to clean it. Also, I think he's allergic to that, too."

"We're gonna need a list."

"A lengthy one." Peter got up, cracking the aching bones in his back. With a sigh, MJ threw a towel into Peter's face. "I don't need to see your little Pete, and I doubt our guest does either."

"For the love of all that is holy, never call it that again."

"No promises."

Peter wrapped the towel around his waist, eager for some pop tarts.

MJ waved as Peter went to the kitchen, spotting their temporary housemate in the living room.

Although he'd like a nice snack, he wanted to see how his new buddy was doing.

He walked into the living room, amused that Miguel still had the sunglasses on.

"Concussion still there?"

"Photophobia," Miguel corrected, sounding tired. "Downside to perfect night vision."

"Do your eyes reflect?"

"Yeah. It's not great."

"And you've got fangs."

"I hate them."

"I think it's cool. You've got some venom that hurts him, too. Oh! Is that what a "Venom Burst" is? A bomb with your venom? That's cool."

Miguel grumbled, hiding his face in a pillow.

It's cool, though.

Where could Peter get fangs?

"Look, big guy, our door's open. We don't have a lock, but you get what I mean - I hope? If not, we're open to talk."

"About what?"

"How that motherfucker... I can only assume it's rough with MJ being pregnant."

"It was two years ago. That she..." he couldn't finish the sentence, but Peter knew what he meant.

Timewise, that would've made Miguel around twenty-five or twenty-four when she died.

"How old was she? If it's alright to ask."

"Eight."

"You were around seventeen or sixteen when you became a dad, huh?"

"How do you know that?"

"I have a thing with guessing people's ages. You look my age, but you're not."

"Well, fuck you too."

"I didn't mean it like that, big guy!" Peter said, quickly backtracking. "You've experienced a lot. That's what I meant."

"You could certainly say that. Is there a point to the inquiry? I'm tired. I don't want to talk about my dead family."

"Alright, let's have pop tarts and then sleep, possibly cry ourselves to sleep. Sound good?"

"Sure thing, little Pete."

That motherfucker has super hearing!?

While Peter should be mad, it's a little funny.

"Only if I get to call you little Miguel."

"Bite me."

"Is that an invitation or an insult?"

"Por el amor de Dios. I'll have something with cheese."

"Great, a toastie it is. I'll turn the lights down for you, big guy."

"Gracias."

He liked having Miguel here. The rapport was fun.

Special thanks to spider-the-bat for the borders!

[tacetnix]

 >// I can’t make her shorter and that is a crime.

[llycaons]

“A-Yuan remembers you,” [Wei Wuxian] said, “from before.” [...]

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng hissed, pressing the heel of his hands into his brow. “If I’d known—a kid—”

He broke off, biting down on the words. What would he have done with another orphaned child? Taken him back to Lotus Pier and raised him alongside Jin Ling? [...]

Beside him, Wei Wuxian made a small noise that wasn’t quite agreement. Lifting his head, Jiang Cheng found him watching him with a funny look: brow pinched, just-so, and expression flat and cool. It was the kind of expression Jiang Cheng had only started seeing after the war began, after their home burned. It was a deep anger, tempered steel, rather than the flash and roar of his childhood fights.

“Jiang Cheng,” he said now, “you did know. Of all of them, you were the only one who had visited us there. You knew there was a child.”

He said it almost gently, like he would correct their littlest shidi when they made a mistake. The judgment ran underneath, cool and disapproving. Jiang Cheng looked away. He couldn’t meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes, not right now.

oh FUCK

[roesolo]

The Light of Home: Home isn't always a place

The Light of Home: A story of family, creativity, and belonging, by Diana Farid/Illustrated by Hoda Hadadi, (Sept. 2024, Orchard Books), $19.99, ISBN: 9781338890617 Ages 4-8 Nur is a child who loves her home by the sea where she plays, enjoys time with her family, and fills her room with her artwork. Life drastically changes overnight when the family must leave right away; Hadadi illustrates the…