#walkingdeadau

[averagefawn]

Ermm little doodles walking dead inspired fit Zizka and Katherine

Finals are kicking my ass

Mmmm messy Zizka 🤤

[levislolita]

Vec to Georgie: Comparing Daryl and Josh is like comparing apples and oranges.

Daryl: We’re both unique in our own ways?

Georgie: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

Scud: Which one of us is the orange?

Quarters Of The Undead (QOTU) Masterlist My AO3 Krys' AO3

Vec belongs to me. Georgie belongs to @dixons-sunshine.

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Click here to join the taglist!

Banner (pics found on Pinterest) was created by me. Divider and © below were created by Krys.

[hannah112]

“We fought to be here & we’re gonna keep fighting.”

[averagefawn]

Thinking about drawing KCD in the walking dead universe

Oooo I’m so full fixation *rubs my bellay*

[levislolita]

Quarters of the Undead—The Walking Dead AU Collab

It started with this…

And by the power of fanfiction, we’re making it happen…

Introducing the “Quarters of the Undead” AU, a Walking Dead AU featuring our other favorite Norm character, Josh “Scud” Frohmeyer

In collaboration with the lovely and talented @dixons-sunshine, we brought our OCs, Vec and Georgie, together as best friends & are taking them (and Scud) through the world of The Walking Dead (with a little pre-apocalypse fun first).

I’m honored to be able to bring this AU to life with my favorite writer on the platform (it’s still so surreal, I won’t lie).

Krys’ first fic for the AU is in the works, as well as mine. I hope to have mine posted in the next couple of days. We’ll get to see Vec and Scud’s origin story play out.

We’re both beyond excited for this, and we hope you are too 🖤

Georgie (Georgianna Hawkins) belong to Krys (creds for making the banner as well 🖤)

Vec (Lydia Vector) belongs to me

(C) thevegandarkelf & dixons-sunshine. We do not consent to our work being copied, shared, translated, adapted, or posted on any other platforms without our explicit consent and proof of said consent.

[ophelia-jones]

New Hope wasn't as big as Cheyenne or any of the other towns that had grown closer to the railway, but it had its charm.  There was a general store for dry goods and clothing, and in one corner of the store was where the chemist dealt in his cures and remedies. There was, of course, the barber's shop which doubled as the local surgeon. They had a gunsmith, a jail, a church, a schoolhouse, and a stagecoach station which served as a newsagent and telegraph office. There was a small bank, a trading post for furs, and the a restaurant . 

Then we're of course the staples of the western Cowtown, a gambling saloon, a pool hall, an Inn, and Lena Blackburn's dance hall. It was what one might call a high-class bordello. If you wanted a guaranteed fast and easy woman who'd fulfill a lonely cowboy's needs for a dollar this wasn't the place for you. There was a row of shabby houses outside of town for the 'soiled doves'. 

No, Miss Lena's was a place where men would come for good company, hard liquor, music, and dancing. The women were pretty, and if the men were respectful and had enough coin the girls may just provide services beyond a dance and a few laughs. They were not obligated by Miss Lena to do so - though of course they paid a commission to her for each evening's work and it was easier to earn that by allowing a man to hire them for some private attention.

Lena was proud to boast not only a luxuriously furnished facility and the best music around, but she even offered hot baths for the cowboy fresh in from the trail.  This was, perhaps, more for herself and her girls than the men but it was a popular service nonetheless.

The only other place in town that offered a bath was the inn attached to the stagecoach station, and you had to let a room for the whole night to have the privilege of using that bath. 

It was fine for the respectable women who would rather die than be seen near Lena's place, but most men preferred to pay a quarter and soak within earshot of the piano and the sound of friendly chatter or song.

So while the respectable women looked down their noses at Lena Blackburn, she only felt pity for them. 

Truth be told Lena couldn't see the appeal of being a respectable woman in the first place. They seemed to have dull, joyless lives of toil. They cared for their husbands, their children, and their houses and often helped with the livestock as well. They were required to go to church every Sunday and say the right things to the right people. Worst of all, if the men who liked their pillow talk were to be believed, they weren't allowed to enjoy sex. It was to be tolerated, the men were to quickly fulfill the need to distribute their 'seed' and its sole purpose was for procreation. 

An obligation to carry children was perhaps the worst thing she could imagine. 

On this particular day, when Lena emerged from her room, she found the parlor a clamor with the news of another stagecoach robbery. This one not twenty miles from here, and its occupants had been inbound for New Hope. Perhaps even more exciting to the women already dressed in their finest, brightest colored gowns for an evening of entertaining, there was a notorious gambler and known gunslinger aboard the coach. 

Lena did not join in the conversation but listened keenly, hoping to piece together the truth of the tale despite the many different versions which had already begun to spread.

"Miss Lena, you look lovelier than a spring meadow this evening," a velvety voice purred from the doorway. She did not need to turn to see who her early arrival was, she would recognize that voice from her grave. It would probably still wake the butterflies in her belly, even then.

"Mr. Smith," she replied without turning to face him. She did not need him to see the smile his presence brought to her face.

"Negan, please. You know me too well to be so formal, Lena. I mean, I don't know how we could know one another better," he grinned as she turned to look up into his deep hazel eyes. There was something about the way he gazed down at her that was mesmerizing. It made her feel like a cornered animal, but in the most delicious way.

"Negan, then. Whiskey?" she offered, gesturing to the bar.

"I'll take that in the bath, today. And I will require a little assistance if you're free." he reached up with the back of his fingers to stroke her soft, pale cheek.

"I'm not presently occupied, but I'm never free, darling," she replied, her face angled up toward his coyly. Negan grinned at her, her favorite devilish grin. He wrinkled his nose and bit his lip; as he did and let out a throaty chuckle.

"No, I suppose not," he murmured. Just then, one of her girls walked in to investigate the source of the chatter in the foyer and smiled when she saw Negan, who flashed her a smile and a wink.

"Whitney, are the baths full and the warmers below them lit?" Lena asked the woman, who confirmed that the two bathtubs were ready for bathing. 

"I have some lovely lavender soap in my room I received as a gift. It came all the way from France, or so he said. I'll meet you in the bathhouse shortly, go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Lena said to Negan, ignoring the disappointment on Whitney's face.

Negan was a favorite customer, known for paying well and having a variety of appetites which rarely left his partner bored or dissatisfied. As proprietor of the business, however, it was Lena's right to pick and choose her customers. She often chose to service Negan herself.

Negan was undressed and resting comfortably in the warm, fragrant water with his head back and eyes closed. He was thinking he might call into the barbershop for a shave when the door opened. He didn't open his eyes but he smiled in anticipation of Lena's tender attentions. 

"That was quick, are we feeling a bit eager today?" he asked playfully.

"Not particularly, acushla. Though I am in dire need of a washing,' came the reply from an unfamiliar voice with a lilting Irish accent. Negan's eyes snapped open and he sat up straight, reaching for the sidearm he had on a table close at hand.

The stranger smiled at him, her steel blue eyes reflecting the soft light from the lanterns. She had a mass of unruly red curls which fell over her shoulders as she removed her hat and hung it on the hook beside the door, then removed her duster and hung it there as well. 

She was a tiny little thing, maybe 5'2" by Negan's estimation, with pearlescent white skin, spattered here and there with light freckles. She reminded him of a sprite or other fairytale imp. She removed her empty holsters and boots as he watched, stupified.

"What… who ARE you?" he demanded. She most certainly was not one of Lena's ladies, not dressed like some reject from Wild Bill's wild west show; though she was undressing with no modesty whatsoever. 

"Kate Byrne, and you, if I'm right, are exactly the man I came to New Hope to find, Mr. Smith." she had shed her blouse now, revealing a pair of small but perfectly shaped breasts, also spattered with freckles and peaked with the lightest pink buds of nipples he had ever seen. 

He was finding it a challenge to remain focused on the matter at hand - finding out who this woman was and what she wanted from him.

"Well, Kate Byrne if you're looking for Negan you've certainly found him," Negan informed her, not bothering to hide the way his eyes washed over her body. He had meant to say something clever but found himself at a loss for words as she slipped out of her skirt to reveal a lovely round ass. The only thing she wore now was a thigh holster with a derringer which was not a particularly dangerous gun at any distance - but up close, as the tubs were - could still be deadly if used right. She turned to see him.     staring at the gun.

"Oh, don't ye worry, I'm not here to kill you. Certainly not like this. I have some respect for fellow gamblers, and wouldn't shoot a man with his willie out for all the world to see unless he deserved it. Do you deserve it, Negan?" she asked, standing at the foot of the bath facing him.

"Depends who you ask," he told her with a smirk. The sound of her voice saying his name made his already stiffening cock jump. She laughed at his response and placed one delicate foot up on the edge of his tub as she removed her thigh holster, and Negan was no shyer about examining the fiery hair between her legs than she was shy about showing it off.

The holster was placed on the table beside the unoccupied bath, she slipped into the water with a sigh. The tubs were close enough together that if Negan reached out with his long arm, he could touch this woman's shoulder. He refrained from touching but continued to stare.

"So if you aren't here to kill me, and you aren't one of Lena's women, why exactly are you here?" he inquired. His deep, slow tone was almost as silky as the perfumed water against her skin and Kate smiled as she dipped her head beneath the water. She wasn't one to seem too eager. Especially with a man like this.

When she emerged, her hair smoothed back away from her face, she leaned her head back against the tub, turning slightly to smile at Negan.

"For the sport. I came to see if you live up to your reputation at the tables," she told him finally.

"At the… you're a gambler?" he asked, the disbelief and amusement clear in his tone and written all over his expressive face.

"I'm a bit offended that you haven't heard of me, t'be truthful. Wildfire Kate Byrne?" she glanced to see if her nickname registered. Negan bit his tongue and smiled at her, shaking his head slightly to indicate he had not.

"Sorry, that took me so long," Lena was saying as she entered the bathhouse, a fancy bar of pretty purple soap alongside two shots of whisky on a tray. She stopped short when she saw the second tub was occupied, arching a pretty chestnut eyebrow at the scene.

"Miss Lena, this is Wildfire Kate. She's come to our modest little cow town to take me for everything I have at the faro tables." Negan introduced the woman with a smirk.  

"Including our private time, it would seem," Lena quipped.

"No, not at all! Have at it. I'm just washing the road dust off meself," Kate told them as she scrubbed with the simple bar of soap which was usually included in the price of a bath.  "I'm the firstborn of 13 children from a poor Irish family. Ma didn't make 13 of us in a one-room cottage without us knowing what a man and woman got up to from an early age." 

Negan laid his head back against the back of the tub and bellowed with laughter.

"You are SOMETHING?" he declared with a whistle as he shook his head at her.

"Or maybe I'll just call that bluff." His eyes flashed with lust at the thought, and Kate smiled as he licked his lips and let his mind wander.

"Just as long as I don't get charged for watching, ye won't hear a peep of complaint outta me," she said nonchalantly. Negan sucked his teeth as he pondered whether she was truly bluffing. Lena placed the tray across Negan's tub and moved to kneel beside him on the side opposite the firecracker who had burst in uninvited on what could have been a very long, very pleasant afternoon.  Lena had a feeling Negan's attention would be difficult to recapture now.

She lathered the soap and washed his chest and arms, up his neck and then down the back of it as he leaned forward to allow her access to wash his long lean back. He took his first shot and then grasped the second between two long fingers and reached across the gap between the tubs to give it to Kate.

"Bend an elbow?" he asked, and she accepted by throwing the nasty western liquor back without a grimace. 

"She can take her liquor too. My my my, you are FULL of surprises, aren't you?" Negan purred, bending his knees to allow Lena to scrub his legs. 

"This?" Kate said, lifting her empty glass, "This is mothers milk." 

Negan found himself more intrigued by the minute. Lena could feel just how intrigued he was as her hand dipped below the water to scrub his thighs. 

Kate stood and stretched, her milky skin glistening with water as she stepped out of the tub and dried herself off. Negan reached down and caught Lena's hand and guided it to grasp his throbbing cock, his eyes on the redhead as she dressed and excited the room with a wink.

Once she was gone, Negan lay his head back against the tub and closed his eyes. He hummed a note of approval in response to Lena's firm grasp and rapid strokes - she knew him well enough to know he was almost ready to come before she'd even touched him. He thrust his hips up into her fist and let out a low grunt, his lips parted slightly and eyes still closed tight. 

"Fuck, that was good. I really fucking needed that," Negan sat smiling for a moment, then rose from the tub.

"Damn, girl, looks like your evening just freed up. I'm going to spend the rest of mine over at the tables." 

Lena hid her frustration behind a sweet smile as Negan sat his payment down on the side table but she made a mental note to have a word with this Wildfire Kate about poaching her clientele.

[a-tamed-dragon]

Walking Dead AU Part 1

Hi guys! Thanks for reading my last drabble, I hope you liked it.I’m happy to finally upload my first full story combining two things I absolutely LOVE. Don’t feel shy to let me know what you think so it can improve:) Talk to you guys soon.

Sincerely,                                                                                                                   ~Prue

______________________________________________________________

 She looked back to check if any of them were close by, the street was all clear except for a few stranglers at the end of the road. She nodded to the young man waiting on her to signal to go. With a nod he stepped away from the door about a foot to get good ground before giving the front door a forceful kick right above the key hole; it swung open and hit the wall inside. 

He was the first to go in, gun in hand, with the large black wolf-dog following suit; trotting silently in between the pair. Its sharp eyes looked out for any sign of danger to him or his humans. The front room was clear which swept into a gigantic dining room, and into the kitchen. The young man with light auburn hair looked beyond the kitchen into the hallway as his female counterpart stealthily turned around the kitchen counter, her back turned to the hall for only a moment. As she did so, green eyes turned his head away as well, and a walker came into view from an open door in the hallway. Stumbling towards the kitchen with simple intent. The blonde backed her way through the kitchen to call “clear” just as he turned back around and saw the flesh eater heading for her.

“Astrid!” His voice was firm but startled her into turning around to face the walker. Before she could swing the axe with a single shot it was down, a bullet right between its decomposed eyes. The carcass fell backwards onto the linoleum floor with a splat.  Astrid froze slightly in her warrior-like stance. Her chilling blue eyes turned their attention to her common savior.

“Thanks babe.” She blew her outgrown side bangs out of her face.  The black dog bounded over to her, she scratched his head reassuringly  “ Hiccup?-“ Astrid questioned as he strode to her side with intent and leaned closely in before taking a breathe and inspecting her arms. She went along with it as he quickly spun her around to make sure there wasn’t a scratch before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

“Let’s go.” He breathed into her ear and motioned down the hall way with a flick of his sharp jaw.

 Astrid fixed her handle on the axe, twisting it around in her palm a few times like a pro, her family used to run a lumber yard, when all this went down an axe was her weapon of choice. Toothless walked in between the two again as first floor was cleared, the small bathroom that the walker must have been hiding out in had boxes of crackers and a case of bottled water under the sink. Astrid nodded off to Hiccup ‘ we’ll come back for it’.  

Next was the upstairs, all of the doors were shit, all except one. Astrid took it as Hiccup checked the other doors and Toothless kept an ear out in the hallway. It was a bedroom of a little boy, his bed messy with clothes still folded at the end of it.  Astrid lowered her axe to press the back of her hand onto the faint blue sheets, they were cool with dust floating down onto them. There were pictures on a bulletin board above the headboard. Astrid knew better than to look at it but despite herself she gazed at the photo of a young boy and girl closest to her. There was a small boy and girl around 5 or 6, pumpkins lay in the background and the pair were looking up at the camera. A shadow was casted behind them of a woman’s figure, probably their mother. Innocent faces, and wide eyed smiles were captured in a single shot. Astrid tore her eyes away and kept her feelings mutual, her shield went up. She backed out of the room and into the hall where Hiccup was nearing the door at the very end.  He put his ear to it and knocked loudly, Astrid didn’t hear anything from the other side but Hiccup looked over to her and Toothless and pointed towards the door with a slight nod. 

Hiccup turned the door knob, which was unlocked, swung the door open and the first walker all but threw itself onto Hiccup. In a split second he grabbed a knife from his belt and stabbed it through the jaw into the brain.  Toothless growled next to him as a gargle came from the side of them bed. A small walker stumbled up, then another.  Astrid shifted in her stance and took a deep breathe ; she nudged Toothless out of the way and cut the girl down following the boy who fell on top of her. Blood splattered onto the ends of her braid. She flicked the bangs out of her eyes and wiped her mouth over her sleeve, just staring down at them. Her axe, although already lowered to her hip, was tugged on from the head with a firm grasp.

          I looked down at the carcasses, bleeding onto the carpet at the foot of the bed. They were so small, same as in the picture. But rosy cheeks were replaced by peeling skin, shiny hair by thin straw, and the glow of life replaced by the grim stench of death. No matter how many we’ve ‘killed’ children caused an excruciating twist of the knife already buried through my heart. I felt the pressure on the head of my axe, his forearm nudging into mine. There was an equal pain behind his eyes as well, his brows knit inward with the same infliction as mine. I shook my head and took control of the axe again

“All clear.”  

Part2

[a-tamed-dragon]

walking dead au

in light of all of the drama over this season of Walking Dead I've been writing a fic. to be up soon :)