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luveline · 1 month

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hi jade!! if ur still up for kbd, can we see an instance where mom feels insecure about her parenting like she feels like she's doing something wrong or being a bad mom (she's not) and Steve just helps her through it? thank<3

KBD —Steve can make you feel better just by being himself. mom!reader, 1.4k

Wren wriggles like a worm on the floor. You’ve spread her baby mat out over the rug, rainbow hearts and stars and smiley faces all around her.

“Mom, what did you say? What’s tummy time?” Beth asks. “I can’t ’member what you said.”

Wren whines. Her face is smushed into the floor again.

“Tummy time is to help her develop her muscles,” you say. “It’s supposed to help her hold her head up by herself. Not working yet…”

You slide your hand between Wren’s face and the floor.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you say.

“Try her on your chest,” Steve says, Dove in his arms as he walks through the kitchen doorway into the living room. “She’s much happier when I lay her on my chest before her nap. I lay real flat on the couch.”

You scoop Wren up under her armpits. Her hair is getting much longer now, the same wavy texture as her father’s, though as she’s grown older her hair has thickened. You’re sure she’s gonna have full curls when she’s older, but for now, you hold her to your chest and brush a hand through those waves thoughtfully. It’s much darker than Steve’s, as are her eyes.

She gurgles as you carry her to the couch. When you lay down, Beth crawls to your side to ask if she can sit on your feet.

“What are you upto now?” you ask Steve, laying Wren out on your chest. You realise that’s not gonna work and pull her down so her face and neck are flat on your stomach instead.

“We just washed our hands,” Steve says, letting Dove down. “She made a little mess, that’s all. Need something?”

“Come n’ sit down, baby,” you murmur, beckoning him in.

Steve doesn’t need telling twice. He sits in the armchair by your head and feels around for the TV remote. Things go quiet, Dove with her Barbie’s to the right of the room where all the toys live, Beth squeezing your ankle, and Steve clicking through channels until he finds the family movie channel. You tease Wren’s cheek where she rests, but she won’t lift her head. You’re scared she’ll smother herself.

“Honey, what am I doing wrong?” you ask.

“Doing what?”

“Tummy time? She never wants to lift her head.” You frown. “S’like she doesn’t wanna see me.”

“Maybe you’re just comfy.”

You sigh and lift Wren again. When she sees you, she smiles. “Ba?” she says.

“Hiya, baba,” you say softly, “what’s wrong? You don’t wanna play with mama?”

“Ba,” she says again, dribble curling down her chin as her hand grabs for your face. You let her down against your chest, unperturbed when she grabs your ear.

“No tummy time, then.”

“That’s fine, she was on her tummy for a long time earlier,” Steve says, “she’s probably just tired out.”

“It hurts my neck to hold it up all the time,” Beth says.

You scrub your eye. Are you hurting her? You hadn’t realised she was tired, but how could you not know that? You’re her mom.

You’re tired, too. You murmur a sorry to Beth and take your legs from under her. You curl in, pill bug style, baby curled in with you. “Sorry,” you whisper, kissing her forehead.

“Ba,” she says again, her spit on your cheek.

You’ve had one of those shitty mom days. You burnt the last bagels in the toaster so Beth had to have toast, which she doesn’t even really like. You tore Avery’s Princess Polly dress trying to clean the sleeve. Dove cried because you didn’t listen to her story, Wren won’t do tummy time, and Steve wouldn’t have done any of those things. He’s amazing, and you’re just… you. He makes being a dad look so easy, he was basically born to do it, and you love your kids but you suck. Today sucks.

Wren babbles all over you. “Ma-ba ma,” she says, then, “grrrrr.”

“You growling at me, baby?”

She lets out a bunch of gr’s and wr’s. You rub her back, tickle it until she giggles. Even the sound of her bumpy baby laughter doesn’t improve your mood.

Steve goes to the kitchen in silence. He opens the freezer a couple of times, and then he’s calling for the girls to come and have some ice cream and chocolate fudge. Avery tumbles down the stairs from her room. She could take the hallway to the kitchen, but she stumbles into the living room instead. “Hi, mommy,” she says, smiling widely, “are you tired?”

“A lot,” you confess.

“Can a kiss make you feel better?”

You turn your cheek and poke it. “Please. Just one,” —she darts forward to kiss you soundly— “go have your ice cream, baby, quick, before Dove eats it.”

Steve dodges her. He has a bowl when he returns. He says your name so nicely you don’t think twice about taking it. An ice cream sundae melts inside, three scoops of thick ice cream adorned with cut fruit and a chocolate fudge heart.

“It looked better five minutes ago. I did yours first.”

“Where’s yours?” you ask.

“I thought I’d share yours,” he says. “No?”

You grin. “Nope.”

“Alright. Can I sit with you, at least?”

You straighten up. Wren stays in one arm, your bowl rests on your leg. You lift the other to take your spoon, while Steve sits next to you, not a millimetre of space between your two bodies.

He doesn’t ask for the baby, which is actually nice. Usually eating with a child in tow is irksome, but you feel a little more capable without his asking. And besides, Steve’s fully trained. You could drop any baby into his lap at any hour and he’d take them without complaint.

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, but you know you could tell him. Can tell he’s waiting for a confession, or ready to let it go.

You don’t want to talk about it. Admitting your failings is too embarrassing, sometimes, and he’s biased, so he’ll tell you anything to make it go away if he needs to. Instead, you sit, you eat your ice cream, and you rest your face against his shoulder, listening to the girls scratch their bowls in the kitchen.

“You can go to bed early, if you need to,” he says gently.

“No, I’m okay.”

“How about a shower? A walk?” He lifts his head to press his nose against you. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I’m okay, really.”

“Okay,” he says, both of you aware that you’re not fully okay, and that he doesn’t believe it. “Can I have some of those strawberries?”

You scoop up some strawberries and lift the spoon, but notice movement from the corner of your eye that makes you laugh in surprise. Wren is opening her mouth, waiting for a bite. She’s just on the cusp of being old enough for soft foods, but she’s never expressed any interest, until now.

“Oh, do you want to try?” you ask, laughing. “I’m sorry, baby, this is much too sugary for your first bite.” You lean down to kiss her head. “Sorry,” you murmur into her hair, “we’ll have to find you something tomorrow.”

Steve smiles so hard you can hear it. “Wow, soft foods already!” he says to her, rubbing the tip of his finger up and down her chest. “Our big girl, huh? Are you mama’s big girl? Daddy’s big girl?”

“Ma,” she agrees, before her lips part again for a taste.

Steve looks into your face proudly, eyes darting between you both. He looks at you like you’ve just hung the moon, when you didn’t do much of anything.

“What should we make her?” he asks.

“I don’t know, what do you think she’ll like?”

“What do you think?”

You abandon your spoon to soothe one of her curls away from her forehead. “I don’t know… she looks like an applesauce girl, doesn’t she? Or maybe some sweet potato.”

Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders. “We’ll have sweet potato mash for dinner, then, and she can have the first bite. Good idea, angel.”

You turn into his hold, letting him nose at your ear.

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transcendslives · 9 months

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✨ Wren / Adult / Female

✨ This is just a blog I've made to chronicle my shifting journey. I came across shifting early in the pandemic like so many of us, and have tried ever since to do so (though not incredibly seriously). I took a break from it for a while to clear my head, but I'm back now, and I intend on being more active in my shifting.

✨ I have several DR ideas, but for now I am focusing on one DR and my WR. I will expand I'm sure once I do successfully shift but for now I'm only trying for those two. Whichever I try for just depends on my mood at the time. My DR is scripted heavily, but my WR is more vibes than anything.

✨ I have always been a very vivid dreamer and interested in lucid dreaming. I have yet to be able to achieve full lucidity in my dreams, but I've had countless dreams so real I thought they were minishifts when I woke up.

✨ I don't have a singular method I use to shift, I go off of whatever feels right in the moment using a combination of techniques that resonate with me. Meditation and visualization are my favourites.

✨ Not really interested in the larger manifestation/loa stuff, or about debates on consciousness/multiverse.

CURRENT DRS

✨ WR - My waiting room is just a draw from a lot of fantasies I had ever since I was a child. I've always loved lavish royal aesthetics, big castles and poofy ballgowns. This WR is a large castle I live in where I get to indulge in all of that sort of fun. [Haven't shifted yet]

✨ HogU - A very very heavily scripted/edited Hogwarts University DR. None of the canon exists, no canon characters aside from the ones that would have died before I was born. Many other changes. I've chosen this partially to help relate to other shifters, but also because HP was a big part of my childhood and I'm incredibly familiar with it. I wanted my first DR to be a setting old and comfortable to me. [Haven't shifted yet]

✨ More TBD

#[ introduction ]#shiftblr #shifting #reality shifting #this post is subject to minor edits but consider this my hello (:

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feathersinning · 2 months

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Sigurd and K'nari. Then Lucy. Then Ava. Then Lana, then Wren, then Wren, then Wr-

Wren would question why she's on this list more than once, but something tells me she's not gonna get the chance

#;ooc;

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casspurrjoybell-25 · 2 months

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Cold as Ice - Chapter 46 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Landon Reilly

I had nearly forgotten about my birthday until I opened that text from Olivia.

To: Landon Reilly [Landon, It's Olivia. Happy birthday. I hope I get to see you today<3] From: Un-known

I was so caught up with worry about what would happen at her skating competition today that it had slipped my mind.

It wasn't like I had ever done much celebrating for my birthdays.

My parents had thrown me parties in the past but it was all just a front for everyone we knew.

I never cared much for birthdays.

Wren was sitting at my desk, typing away on his laptop when I rolled over in bed to look at him.

He was already dressed and presentable like he had been up for hours, though I knew he hadn't been.

I had woken up briefly when he had gotten out of bed, craving the warmth of his body against mine.

I watched him for a moment, then he turned like he felt my eyes on him.

"You didn't tell me it's your birthday," he said.

He said it in such a casual way that I couldn't tell if it had even bothered him or if he was just pointing it out.

"How do you even know that it's my birthday?"

"Olivia," he replied, which was all the explanation needed.

I let out a sigh.

I had forgotten that the two of them talked to each other.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wren asked.

"Because it's not a big deal," I replied, getting out of bed and walking toward my closet.

"I could have gotten you something had I known."

"I don't want you to get me anything," I said, pulling a shirt out of the closet.

"I don't even know when your birthday is. It's not like we've talked about it."

"It's May 29th," he said.

"You know, we could celebrate today instead of going to that competition. I'm sure Olivia would understand."

I shot him a deadpanned look then threw on my shirt.

"You think you're going to outsmart me and make me think that I don't want to go," I started.

"But it's not going to work, so you might as well stop trying."

"That's not what I was trying to do at all," Wren lied.

I knew him better than that.

Wren had made it very clear that he didn't want me going to Olivia's competition.

Wren was good at making his opinions known.

What he wasn't good at was being subtle.

It sort of warmed my heart that he wanted to protect me from seeing my father.

I had never really had anyone care about me in such a way but it felt nice.

It made me want to hold onto him, squeezing him tightly to physically show my appreciation for him but his insistence could also be annoying, especially with the way he tried to outsmart me any chance he got.

I wanted to support my sister, even if it meant putting myself in a bad situation.

It was probably the guilt that made me so insistent on showing up for Olivia.

I was guilty because I hadn't been around much lately, hadn't talked to her much.

I was also guilty because I hadn't been to one of her competitions in over a year and she specifically asked me to be at this one.

I couldn't say no to her even if I wanted to.

"You can stay here if you don't want to go," I suggested, knowing he wouldn't agree to that.

Sometimes I just liked to argue with him a little.

Wren shook his head at me with expression that told me he thought I was being crazy.

"Let's start getting ready then so we can grab breakfast beforehand," Wren said, standing from the desk as I finished getting dressed.

I did my morning routine, then the two of us got into Wren's car to go get breakfast.

Part of me couldn't stomach the thought of food.

I was so anxious about today that I felt nauseous.

Seeing Wren eat his own food without a care in the world made me feel slightly better, so I followed his lead.

He probably wouldn't have let me leave here without eating something anyway.

When we got in the car to head over to the arena, Wren placed his hand on my thigh.

I hadn't even noticed I had been shaking my leg until his hand stilled me.

Wren surprisingly didn't say anything about my anxiety.

"Do you know when Olivia will be on?" Wren asked as we drove down the road.

"I'm not sure," I told him, looking out the window as we neared the arena.

"She does a short program and a free program."

I hadn't been to one of her competitions in a while and it wasn't like my father brought me to many of them either.

A lot of the time it was my mother who brought Olivia to skating and my father who brought me to hockey.

Needless to say, I wasn't well-versed in figure skating.

Wren parked the car but left it running as he turned to me.

"We still have time to leave," Wren said with a grin.

I shot him an irritated look and got out of the car.

Wren was quick to follow me and the two of us made our way inside.

There were more people here than I thought there would be and that actually gave me some comfort.

The more people there were, the less likely it was that I would run into my parents.

Wren walked beside me, clearly at ease.

His walk was like a glide, his head held high.

I looked at him and wished that I could be more like him.

He caught me looking out of the corner of his eye and shot me a smile.

"A lot of people here," he commented.

"Probably a good thing," I responded.

I wanted him to hold my hand but at the same time I wanted him to keep his distance.

I craved his comfort while also wanting to keep him at arms length.

The two of us didn't say much as we found our way to our seats.

I looked around before sitting down but I didn't see my parents anywhere.

They were probably closer to the front, ensuring the best view to catch all of Olivia's mistakes.

It was exactly how my father would always watch me play hockey, with a scrutinizing gaze instead of one of pride or admiration.

"I don't know much about figure skating," Wren said, bringing my attention to him.

"How do we know if she's doing well?"

"Basically if she's nailing her jumps and spins and sticking the landings then she's doing good," I said.

"I don't know much about it either. I've never really gotten to watch her that much."

Wren nodded and a few moments later the first skater took to the ice.

Neither of us cared much for watching the other skaters but Wren watched the first short program while I watched him watch it.

"It's so cold in here," Wren said, clapping after the skater finished.

"Well, yeah," I said.

"It's an ice rink."

"They can't make it warmer for the spectators?" he asked and I just shook my head at him.

We sat through a few more performances before it was Olivi'as turn.

When I heard her name, I sat on the edge of my seat, my eyes glued to the rink.

Olivia skated to her starting mark and began her program.

All was going well at first.

She skated with elegance and precision.

It was the last jump that ruined her nearly perfect performance.

When she came down to land, her ankle shifted beneath her and sent her down on the ice.

Olivia got right back up and struck her final mark with a wide smile.

I couldn't help but smile down at her.

I felt pride well in my chest.

Even though she messed up, she got right back up and finished.

That was a quality of a true competitor.

"Do you think she's alright?" Wren asked me as we both clapped at the end of her performance.

My heart warmed in my chest at the fact that he sounded genuinely concerned for my little sister.

"I'm sure she's fine," I told him as I watched her skate off the ice.

It didn't look like she was favoring one leg over the other.

Our mother was probably pissed but I knew Olivia could handle her.

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normally0 · 3 months

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The Architectural News

Following some design work I was taken by the similarity’s between The Wimbledon House and the BEWAG Haus, specifically with regard to the staircases.

The Architectural Drawings at All Souls College, Oxford:�Wren and Hawksmoor

333 - AS IV.122. Survey plan, drawn by Hawksmoor to a scale of 10 ft to an inch (drawn scale). The draughtsmanship is datable to the early 1690s. Dark brown ink over pencil. 448 x 764 mm. Strasbourg lily WR; P. The central axis is dotted in ink. Pencil additions:

* (i) The screens passage is crossed out and a new wall drawn 9–6 ft from the central axis.

* (ii) A canopy is loosely sketched in one of the seventeenth-century rooms.

The cross vault over the chapel may also be an addition.

Note to 333:Wimbledon House was built for Sir Thomas Cecil, afterwards Earl of Exeter, c. 1588. It was subsequently purchased by Charles I and presented to Henrietta Maria, who employed Inigo Jones to undertake alterations in 1638–42. Jones was responsible for the T-shaped arrangement of rooms and corridors situated on the W side of the house. In 1673 (or thereabouts) the house was bought by Thomas Osborne, later 1st Duke of Leeds. The origins of 333 are not recorded. It should be noted, however, that in 1692 Sophia Osborne, a widowed daughter of the Duke of Leeds, married Lord Lempster, Hawksmoor’s patron at Easton Neston.

MAX DUDLER

BEWAG-HAUS

Location Markgrafenstraße 35, D-10117 Berlin

Client Berliner Kraft und Licht BEWAG

Building period 1994–1997

Volume GFA 9.000 m²

The residential and commercial building for Bewag—in a prominent location on Berlin’s Gendarmenmarkt—was built on the site where the city’s oldest power station once stood. The building’s design references the historic town house typology of the Friedrichstadt district. The defining feature is the relief-style stone facade with recessed steel-framed windows. The clearly visible facade screws add a technological touch, alluding to the industrial architecture that used to occupy this site. The building’s axial emphasis and the entrance situation it creates reference the Deutscher Dom (German Church) that faces it on the square.

#WimbledonHouse #BEWAGHaus #ArchitecturalDesign #HistoricInfluence #WrenAndHawksmoor #AllSoulsCollege #ArchitecturalDrawings #InigoJones #ThomasCecil #CharlesI #MaxDudler #Gendarmenmarkt #BerlinArchitecture #IndustrialHeritage #ArchitecturalLegacy #StrasbourgLily #ArchitecturalResearch

#architecture #berlin #area #london #acme #chicago #puzzle #edwin lutyens #oma #massimoscolari

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zer0wasabitxh · 8 months

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Survivors Records

Episode 1

Leo sits down on the couch, putting his phone face down on the armrest and sprawling out. He picks up the remote and turns on the TV, scrolling through movies. He ends up settling on some random horror movie that he'd never heard of before. It doesn’t really matter what the movie is, after all, he’s just bored.

About an hour into the movie (which turned out to be a ripoff version of Scream), Leo’s phone starts blowing up. He ignores the notifications at first, but after about 5 minutes of his phone vibrating endlessly, he pauses the movie and picks it up.

The notifications read as follows; (Now) Sn: Holy shit one of them is at my door guys what the fuck do I do

(2 minutes ago) Sn: ok I locked the door guys Im so scared

(2 minutes ago) Wr: go hide in your room and put a chair under the knob

(2 minutes ago) Sn: holy shit. There are like 6 people outside covered in blood. What the fuck.

(2 minutes ago) Sn: oh shit my dad left the door open uhm

(3 minutes ago) Sr: is this a bad time to say W?

(3 minutes ago) Sn: I think I just heard him scream?? Like not an angry scream????? I’m confused

(4 minutes ago) Sn: guys my dad is going outside to yell at them.

Curiosity piqued, Leo puts in his password and opens the group chat, reading through the messages. As he scrolls through, however, his curiosity bleeds into a deep sense of dread.

Essentially, a group of people had been in Sunny’s backyard at 9 pm making a shit tone of noise, and eventually his dad went to yell at them. Leo guesses that they attacked his dad, based on the recent messages. As he’s reading through, a new notification appears on his screen.

(now) Sn: guys? I hit one of them on the head and they’re not moving. Guys,, I think I just killed someone.

A knife, his phone, some cash, and a waterbottle. He shoves the items into his bag and leaves.

*ring ring* “Come on… Pick up-!” Wren paces back and forth, trying the phone over and over again. He runs his hands through his hair and puts his phone down after the 5th missed call. His thoughts begin to spiral, an endless string of what ifs.

A bang at his door snaps him out of his thoughts.

They walk over and look through the peep hole. No one’s there. “What the..?”

They take a step back, a new feeling of uneasiness blooming in their gut. They stand there for a moment, before they start to hear a faint sound coming from the door. They move a bit closer, and realize that the sounds are that of something scratching at the bottom of the door.

“Oh fuck that.” Wren takes a deep breath, trying to reason with themself. It’s probably just a wild animal, or one of the neighbors pets that escaped. He turns and hopps over to the kitchen, where one of the windows has a good view of the front door. Surely it’s nothing. Nothing at all. One look out the window proves that thought very, *very* wrong. A… person, of sorts, or well, *half a person*, is laying on Wren’s porch clawing at the door.

Wren stumbles back, shocked. They rush back to the living room and pick up their phone, calling the groupchat. No one picks up. They try the phone a few more times, and they’re about to give up and figure something out on their own when they hear a ping to signify someone picking up the call and then a staticky voice. “H-y W-en are you -k?”

Wren moves the phone away from his ear and checks his connection. “What? Wait yeah you’re lagging out.” “Sor-y dea- zo-e” “Oh. Are you outside?” “Un-ort--ate-y” “Huh?”

“Ye-h” Their gut clentches, “any idea whats going on?” “K-nda. —-----------meet—--------” “Huh? You cut out” “I– te-t you an adr-ss, m--t me the-e” “Alright but what-” theyre cut off by a loud shrieking noise from the other end of the phone, and they flinch their phone away from their ear on instinct. “F-ck, I g-tta -o, M--t me a—---------------------” *click* “What the hell” They run to their room and start to pack a bag.

Something in the yard groans.

Sunny sits on the roof of his house, hugging his legs and scrolling through social media on his phone. Over the past few hours, social media has been flooded with messages about aggressive people appearing to be injured. A few websites have started reffering to these people as zombies.

The groaning from Sunny’s yard grows in volume, until at some point a banging sound starts up. Sunny scoots up further onto the roof. “What to do…” he whispers to himself After a moment of contemplating, he slides down and peeks over the edge of the roof. Four or five of the creatures have gathered next to the wall, directly under where Sunny is sat. He gulps and scrunches his nose. “Oh god the *smell*...” A few of the creatures have started to pile on top of eachother, climbing and clawing their way up the pile, trying to reach Sunny. He knows he’s running out of time.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and drops. He grabs onto the roof and swings into his open window, narrowly avoiding a hand grabbing for his leg.

He lands on the carpeted floor, and stands up immediately, looking around his room for something. He beelines over to a corner and grabs a metal bat that had been leaning against the wall.

Suddenly something crashes behind Sunny, and he turns around in time to see one of the creatures topple through the open window. “Oh FUCK that” Sunny raises the bat over his head, and *swings*.

He drives the tree branch into the chest of the nearest zombie, and swings his water bottle down onto the head of another. He cringes at the resulting *crack* that echoes through the forest.

Leo drops the stick attached to the now-dead-again zombie and wipes his water bottle off on his hoodie. He bends down to pick up his phone, which had been discarded somewhere in the leaves when he got attacked. The screen was cracked pretty badly but it was still usable. Besides, it wasn’t like Leo cared all that much about his phone right now.

Hands numb from the cold, he types an address into the group chat, before turning off his phone and continuing to walk.

Eymori turns off his phone and steps back under his porch cover as it starts to rain a bit. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. He walks inside, picking up two trash bags, and heading back out. He rounds the house to his backyard, where 2 large holes stare up at him from the grass. He throws a trashbag into each one and then walks over to the fence to grab a shovel. The rain picks up, eventually soaking Eymori and the dirt around him. He takes a shovelful of dirt from a pile and walks over to one of the graves.

“Goodbye, ma.” -

Wren *severely* regrets not bringing an umbrella, as the rain pelts down on him. He had wrapped his bag with his rain jacket to keep that dry, but the rest of him is drenched.

They’ve been walking through town for about 2 hours now, and other than the occasional stumbling dead person, it’s been eerily quiet.

He checks their phone, open to Google maps.

*5 minutes from your destination*

Wren looks up, scanning the surroundings for a particular store.

“There you are”

The door chimes.

He is not alone.

Sunny looks up as the rain starts, taking a minute to close his eyes and breathe. Droplets splatter on his eyelids and his arms and his clothes, washing away the rotten blood.

As the drizzle turns into more of a downpour, Sunny opens his eyes again, straining slightly to see through the storm.

His stomach sinks as he realizes that around him he can see dark figures slowly approaching, and over the rain he hears soft groans and hissing coming from the shadows.

He looks down at the metal bat in his hand. What should have been already beat up and dirtied from the 6 or 7 zombies he had just killed, was instead completely clean; any trace of something bad washed away by the rain.

Sunny grips the bat in his hand and looks back up at the figures closing in.

He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance.

As the closest zombie reaches out, he takes the bat and *swings*, clearing a line in the horde and taking the heads clean off of several of the creatures.

Something grabs at him from behind and he spins around, smashing it over the head.

The rain picks up, and, though he can barely see a foot in front of him, sunny begins to carve a path through the crowd.

His bat takes the most of it, crushing and knocking back zombies who try to attack him.

Before long though, he begins getting tired. The rain pelting down feels like less of a blessing and more of a hindrance. He's getting cold and tired of swinging the bat, but if he stops, he will *die*.

A few steps later, something catches him off guard, grabbing his pant leg and *pulling*, knocking sunny onto the ground.

He panics and rolls over onto his back, grabbing for his bat.

His hand finds the cold bandages of the base and he picks it up.

He bashes the head of the zombie on the floor with him, before jumping up on his feet.

The crowd closes in on him more.

He swings the bat taking out a couple.

Something grabs at his leg.

He stomps on the hand of the offending creature whilst swinging his bat at more of the enclosing zombies.

Suddenly, he's shoved into the ground by a pair of hands, and he turns around to see a zombie that looks a lot less dead than …

Oh.

*Oh.*

The world stops for a moment as he stares into the eyes of his undead father.

The gravel digs into his palms, the cold biting into his skin with the rain. His bat is gone, lost somewhere in the horde. He stands, up, swaying on his feet. The exhaustion flooding his bones makes way for a new emotion. *Anger.* He feels *hot* despite the numbness of his fingers and the chattering of his teeth.

Something boils up in his chest and he laughs. A maniac sort of laughter that echoes through the streets.

He shifts on his feet and smiles, running a hand through his hair, “Oh karma is a *bitch* isn’t she” The zombie charges at him. -

“Did you really only find out about it a few hours ago?” the group leader swirls their teacup and looks up at Wren. Wren nods, “I havent been out in a few days.” “You didn’t *hear* anything though??” “My house has fairly good soundproofing” “Yeah that makes sense,” they finish their tea and put down the cup. “The infection hit where I’m from a few days ago, been driving around but still havent found anywhere clear.” “Oh I mean I went shopping on friday and everything was fine so it probably hit earlier. Not to mention my friends only started noticing tonight- or well-” they look out the window, the sky being slightly lighter than an hour ago, “last night, at this point.”

The leader laughs at his joke.

Someone walks into the room they’re in- a short brunette who looks to be on the younger side.

“Uhh- Mika?” He asks, looking towards the leader, “we got a bit of a situation…”

*None of them stood a chance.

Not against the two of us.

After all, we were both a little fucked in the head.

He was about to die but he had killed almost all of them. I took care of the rest.

It's how we flow.*

Eymori walks out of his room. He flings a duffle bag to the floor and greets Max, a brown sheep dog that had belonged to his father, before grabbing his phone.

No new messages since Leo sent an address.

He sighs and puts on his boots, picking the bag back up and swinging it over his shoulder.

“C’mon Maxy” the dog perks up, wagging its tail, “we’re going for a ride.”

Max jumps up off the couch and bounds over to Eymori’s side, panting and wagging his tail.

“Yeah?” Eymori giggles and pets the dogs head, “you always did love sitting in the truck didn't you. Well, let's head out buddy.”

Grabbing an umbrella and his raincoat, Eymori leaves, his dog following close behind.

Two boys lay on their backs next to each other in the street. The end of the storm leaves a new morning to peek through the clouds. The mist still in the air glows golden, washing away the blood and dirt.

“We should get up” the blonde laughs breathlessly, turning his head to the side and staring at the brunette's scratched-up legs. “I’m a bit worried you’re gonna get an infection…” The brunette groans, “Oh don’t even.” He laughs and sits up, looking at the other. They stare at each other for a minute, before one of them giggles.

It doesn’t matter who started it, because before long, they’re both rolling on the floor in laughter.

“This is *bizarre*” the blonde wheezes, sitting up and wiping his eyes. “Agreed” the brunette smiles at him.

A moment of silence, before- “We really need to get you some first aid though those legs do not look safe” “Oh FUCK OFF-” -

Eymori adjusts the shade above his seat as the rising sun shifts to gleam into his eyes. The GPS speaks, making Max look over at it, the poor thing not understanding who the other voice was coming from.

Eymori turns left, continuing down the empty countryside roads. Max puts his paws up on the open window, leaning his head out and hanging out his tongue, enjoying the wind. After another 20 or so minutes of driving, Eymori sees someone by the side of the road holding out their thumb like a hitchhiker. He slows down to get a better look at them. The person was dirty and seemed to have some blood on them. They looked pretty injured though, Eymori doesn’t really find them intimidating at all. Eymori pulls over a few meters after the hitchhiker and looks out his window back at them.

“Where do you need a ride to?” “Anywhere” The girl croaks out, “do you have water?” Eymori shuffles through his duffel, “Yeah, a bit- you want some?” The girl nods aggressively and shuffles over to the pickup truck.

Eymori hands her a bottle and gestures for her to get in the back seat. The second she gets in, however, Max starts growling. A low, rumbling noise.

“Shush” Eymori ruffles the dog’s fur before turning to look back at the hitchhiker, “I’m headed to || ||, that anywhere near where you wanna be?” The girl nods, putting down the water she had been guzzling, “Yeah that works,” she coughs a few times and curls up in the back seat of the truck. Eymori starts up the car and unpauses his GPS. After about a minute or so of driving, the girl speaks up, “What’s uhm- what’s your name-?” “Eymori. What about you?” Max whines and looks up at his human. Eymori takes one hand off the wheel to pet him before returning it. “Peachy,” the girl says, drinking some more water, “thank you… Eymori..” “No problem, Peachy,” He smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

One of Mika’s friends leads Wren to a room with several sleeping bags in it. “Make yourself at home” she pats them on the back and smiles, before walking out. They haven’t seen Mika since the horde showed up, and they’re a bit worried, but they’re glad to have somewhere warm to sleep. They close the blinds to block out the morning sun and put down their backpack in a corner, shuffling through it and finding their phone. They shuffle over to an outlet, thankful that there was still electricity, and plug it in. The screen flashes to life but- `no new messages`

They sigh and turn it off, before laying down and closing their eyes.

Peachy descends into another fit of coughing. By this point, the two of them had been in the car for over an hour, and Peachy’s condition is only getting worse. “Hey- just hang in there, alright?” Eymori speaks once Peachy stops coughing for a moment. “We’re almost there, and my friends should be able to help you. Peachy responds with an affirmative grunt before coughing even more. Max growls. Eymori drives faster.

Mika stands on the roof of a nearby building, looking down at the horde. The group had set up spikes and a barricade around the storefront when they first noticed it in the distance, and, while the traps seemed to be doing their job for now, they wouldn’t hold up forever.

They need a plan, and they need it fast. Mika wonders if this horde was the same one they had escaped from. They had been staying in new york city, which is where the virus seemed to have started, at least on the east coast. However, with how the media was talking, it seemed like there had been several breakouts at once, all across the globe. They had fled from the city with a group of friends in hopes of escaping the horde, but, if this was the same one, it seemed like all the horde really needed was a few days to catch up.

That worries them. The idea that the zombies might be capable of moving fast in big groups. They cover their nose and gag as a rotten smell wafts over to them with the wind. They pull up their mask and are just about to head back to the bottom of the building, when they see someone *familiar* in the distance. “It’s about time…” -

Church bells sound in the distance as they walk down the gravely road, the rocks crunching under their feet. Both of them had changed into dry clothes before heading out, and Leo had helped Sunny bandage his leg.

The midday sun beat down on them, contrasting with the biting cold of the December air. Leo checks his phone, looking up at the street signs. “We should be-” Leo trails off as they turn a corner and come face to face with a *horde*. Not just a large group- no. An entire horde. “Huh.” “Huh indeed.” - “Oh fuck oh shit-” “Calm down.” the blonde shakes Wren. “What do you mean Mika saw them?? And we’re waiting here????? That’s a horde!” “WREN.” she slaps him straight across the face, successfully shutting him up. “They aren't *stupid* they’ll be able to get away from it.” “... alright.” -

“It would be stupid to fight them right?” “You're holding a knife.” “A really bad idea…” “Please put down the knife.” “Something only an idiot would do…” “I’m not going to save you.” “Wanna bet?” “*s i g h*” -

Eymori parks on the road about 5 minutes away from the destination, and gets out of the car, with Max in tow. He walks over to the back and helps Peachy out, holding her arm around his shoulders and his around her back. Max growls and Eymori shushes him as he kicks closed the door to the pickup.

The two of them stumble down the road with a very angry(?) dog behind them until they start hearing a *lot* of grumbling sounds.

“What the-” Max whines and pins his ears back. “Hey boy, what's wrong?” Eymori looks down at the dog. He’s answered with a low growl. Peachy descends into another fit of coughing and Eymori turns his attention to her. “Hey hey we’re almost there.” They round another corner and- “Oh *fuck*”

Sometimes I wonder what happened to them.

Then I remember why I don’t want to know.

#story #origional content #original work #zombies #survivors records lets go babyyyyy #Survivors Records #Milcord

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