ALL OF THE WIPS SOUND SO INTERESTING WTH
*clears throat* so obviously i cant ask for only one's description thats basically cruel. tell me more about:
1. the ballad of boot hill
2. no rest for the wicked
yes that will be all thank you very much for your service
Hehehe I'm so glad you asked!
This is my cowboy au!! Right now, this is more of an idea than an actual fic, but I was thinking of one of the boys being a sheriff in some small town in Texas, New Mexico, or Arizona (maybe barty? outlaw evan seems hot to me, so yeah, let's go with sheriff barty).
Anyway, I don't really have much planned right now and am going 100% on vibes, so here's a screenshot of my Pinterest board!
I've got a few songs that match the vibe too!
Supernatural was MY SHOW in middle school, so this is sorta inspired by it!! I definitely want it to have the vibes of the first three seasons of the show (don't get me wrong, I love Cas, but there was just something about the whole "monster of the week" thing that I really loved). So yeah, basically I'd have Barty and Evan as hunters just driving around the country killing monsters.
Again, more of a concept than anything, but here's a little something from Pinterest!
This is a little zombie apocalypse thing I'm working on. It's technically a Rosekiller fic, but it's told from Pandora's perspective. I never actually finished The Walking Dead (stopped around the time Negan was introduced), but I see her sort of like a Michonne-type character. Barty and Evan are both zombies, and she keeps them in chains, bringing them everywhere with her to fend off other zombies. She keeps them fed so they don't attack her.
The fic is told through a series of flashbacks and present day, so you get to see how the apocalypse started, who all was in their "group," how Barty and Evan were turned, and why Pandora is alone.
She crouched behind a burned-out sedan, eyes flicking to the shattered storefront across the road. It had been a Walmart once, but the letters on the building were starting to fall off, now reading “A MA T.” She held up two fingers, signaling the others to wait.
Evan was close behind, his hair tied back with a strip of bloody fabric. He pressed into her shoulder, breathing shallowly. Barty hovered at Evan’s left, shotgun aimed at the door, waiting for any signs of biters.
The rest of their group was waiting in the van, Sirius behind the wheel, ready to drive them off if things got ugly. Lily and Remus had mapped out the store, noting exactly where everything they needed should be so it could just be a quick in-and-out run. James had insisted on tagging along too, despite multiple protests. He was loud, arrogant, and always in the way, but he was strong and fast, so that made up for something, Pandora supposed.
She checked around the corner before slinking out and running across the street. When she reached the entrance, she motioned to everyone else, and within seconds, Barty, Evan, Remus, Lily, and James were bounding over. Pandora held up a hand, pressing herself to the wall, and peered through the glassless window. The inside was a chaos of shelves and spilled cans, the floor littered with old flyers and something darker, sticky. No movement. No groaning. No shuffling feet.
Safe. For now.
One by one, they slipped inside, where the air tasted of rot and metal. Pandora kept her knife drawn—a heavy kitchen blade, honed to a razor. She’d lost her gun last week in a scuffle with a biter and still hadn’t forgiven herself. Evan had offered one of his, but she knew what they meant to him so she refused. She’d find a new gun sooner or later.
“Don’t split up,” she hissed. “Stay with your partner, get what you were assigned, and we meet back here in five.”
Barty snorted. “Relax, Pan. What do you think we are, amateurs?”
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