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browsethestacks · 2 days
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Vintage Comic - Witching Hour #055
Pencils: Luis Dominguez
Inks: Luis Dominguez
DC (June1975)
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acornbringer · 1 day
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Want to learn how I create my game assets? I just posted an in-depth tutorial up on Patreon where I share my whole process from start to finish 🎊
Follow the link in below and consider supporting the project 💖
patreon.com/acornbringer
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the-name-is-z · 2 days
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SKELETONS | ch. 12
daryl dixon x f!oc
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Summary: Iris and Daryl search for Sophia, alone in the woods. Which would not be a problem, except for horses don't do snakes, and Andrea doesn't do common sense. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; blood, accidental injury, improper medical care/first-aid, everyone keeps shooting each other for no good reason, violent levels of sarcasm, this writer is an avid Andrea hater
Chapter 12 - Easy Mistakes
They traveled a few more miles along the creek, Daryl following a game trail through the forest. A flock of crows burst out from behind a bush, flapping off into the sky, and the horses grunted in surprise. Daryl spoke lowly and calmly to them, keeping them from dashing off or bucking either of them down into a ditch. They moved onward, but Iris got the sense that the horses were a little more nervous than they’d been before.
A hiss startled Daryl’s horse suddenly, a snake camouflaged in the leaves on the ground slithered forward toward it, baring its fangs. Iris gripped her reins as his horse reared, whinnying loudly. Her's followed suit, but she hadn’t kept a tight enough grip, and she landed flat on her back behind the horse with a grunt, losing her breath.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Daryl tried, but the horse was having none of it. He was tossed to the side, and Iris swore as he tumbled down a steep hill, the horses running off. Daryl half-rolled down the hill, his body hitting the ground hard as the litter became rock, and he hit the water of the creek bed.
“Daryl!” Iris called, skidding down the hill and gripping trees to keep her upright along the way.
“Son of a bitch.” She heard him say, scrunching his face in pain. His forehead was bleeding, and she had no idea what kind of injuries he might have sustained. The water around him started to bloom with deep crimson and he rolled onto his back. Iris slid on her hands and feet down the rock toward him, soon knee deep in the water. 
She gasped as she saw the wound, one of the arrows on his back spearing clean through his side. It was shallow enough not to have caught anything but muscle, but any injury was life threatening in the woods, never mind with flesh-eating freaks sniffing you out. He groaned in pain, leaning his head back in the water.
“Fuck.” Iris muttered. She leaned down, grabbing his crossbow from the water before helping him stagger to his feet slowly. He leaned on her and they crossed the creek, the other side providing a drier area to access the situation. His hand was clutching his side, the bloody arrow shifting with every movement. To his credit, he barely made a sound, grunting every so often with effort. “Sit down.” She directed him to a fallen log and he sat, wincing as she brought out a knife. Iris slung the crossbow over her shoulder and sliced through his shirt, ripping the sleeves off and tying them together to make a very long rope. 
“Breathe in.” She instructed as she tied it around his waist, knotting the ends together around the arrow. He did as she instructed. “And out.” As he let out the breath, she tightened it quickly, and his breath turned into a muffled cry. It would stabilize the arrow until they could do something about it, but she was hesitant to touch it until they were somewhere safe.
They both looked up as a branch snapped in the tree line behind them, bushes rustling. Iris picked up her knife again, taking a defensive position as Daryl staggered to his feet. They needed to move. With one hand, Daryl picked up a stick to help him keep his balance while the other hung over Iris’ shoulder. 
The slopes on either side of the creek were steep, but one was slightly steeper than the other, so they picked the latter. It was a slow process, and painful for one of them. Iris slowly climbed upward, picking a path with many trees to lean against as she continuously reached back, helping Daryl move upward. He was getting weaker the longer they went on, and Iris worried they would’t make it back. But there was no way in hell she’d leave him alone in the forest.
“Don’t look back.” Iris whispered. Daryl did exactly that, breathing out anxiously as the fall loomed behind him. He turned forward and met Iris’ face of disapproval. He half shrugged.
“C’mon.” He panted. “We’ve done half.” She nodded, pulling herself up between trees, dirt and soil slipping beneath her feet. She turned back and Daryl slipped, his eyes going wide as he reached up. She grabbed his hand, thanking her quick reflexes as she set his balance, pulling him back to lean against the slope.
She pulled herself up further against a particularly thick beech tree, taking a breath as she turned back.
“Watch—“ He didn’t finish before Iris felt the dead weight of a walker collide with her. She yelped in surprise as she slammed into the tree, wrestling against it. It almost had her pinned, but she drove her knee up in between them, pushing it off of her and down the slope. It snarled as it fell, tumbled, but she and Daryl both heard the sickening crack as bone met rock. “We gotta get out of here.”
“Agreed.” Iris huffed. It took them a while, but they finally made it to the top of a slope. Iris took out a couple more walkers, finding the crossbow particularly handy.
“Don’t get used to it.” Daryl grumbled as he sat down on a boulder.
“No promises.” Iris replied. She pushed it behind her as she untied the sleeves around his middle. He hissed as the arrow shuffled and she looked up at him. “I have to pull it out.”
“I know.” He nodded. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. It was ruined anyways. He grit his teeth, clamping his jaw shut so he didn’t bite down on his tongue. 
“On three.” Iris said, watching him as she gripped the front half of the arrow. “One—“ She ripped it out quickly and Daryl cried out, leaning back and pressing a hand to his wound. Iris tied the sleeves back around his middle, but it wouldn’t do much to stop the bleeding. She paused, biting her lip before making a decision.
Daryl watched as she untied the bandana from her hair. She wore it daily, whether it be holding her hair back, around her neck, even just hanging from her pocket. She’d never been without it. He had no idea where it was from, what it meant to her, but he watched as she ripped the fabric in two, folding each rectangle into a tight square and using his sleeves to bind them to the wound. They would help stifle the bleeding, hopefully.
“You alright?” She asked, looking up at him. He nodded and she tucked a now-loose strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed, pushing herself up. “You lucid enough to lead us back to camp?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, standing up. He winced, shifting a little to test the makeshift bandages. He nodded again. They walked slowly through the forest, as fast as they could go without making it worse. 
“So what’s the story with the chupacabra?” She asked, making idle chatter. He huffed.
“I know what I saw.” He stated plainly.
“I’m sure you do. Did you happen to be eating any funky-looking mushrooms at all?” She asked, glancing at him with a small smile. He huffed, understanding her attempt to be funny, but little did she know.
“I might have.” He replied, giving her a stern look. Her smile widened and she shook her head.
“You remind me of my brother.” She said quietly, looking forward through the trees.
“You have a brother?” He asked, looking down at her. She pursed her lips.
“Had. And he was my cousin, really. But we were raised as siblings. Felix.” She trailed off, smiling softly. “He was the first one I saw turn.”
“‘M sorry.” Daryl said quietly. Iris nodded.
“He had no sense of humour, either.” She teased.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, scowling. She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, case-in-point. He shook his head, turning forward again, but she saw the little smile on his face.
They made decent time, all things considered. The others would all be back at the farm by now, but hopefully that meant they could pick up that something went wrong. There was a very tall, diseased tree at the edge of the farm, and that made it easy to know when they were close. Daryl was staggering a bit, the blood having soaked through the bandana, his shirt and the sleeve bindings. 
One of the loops on Iris’ knife belt must have been lose, or maybe the snap came undone, but one of her knives slipped and fell to the ground. Daryl turned, but Iris lightly nudged him forward.
“Keep going. They should know we’re alright.” She said quietly. He nodded, turning back as she bent down to grab her knife. She stood, fixing it back onto her belt as Daryl slowly made his way through the tree line. He was swaying a bit. He might need a blood transfusion after this, too. Iris’ head snapped up when the shot echoed through the field.
Daryl went down like a sack of potatoes, crumpling.
“Daryl!” She yelled. She ran forward, kneeling down beside him in the grass. He groaned, reaching up and hissing as his fingers met the graze on the side of his head. Iris sighed in relief, standing up. She held her hand up to block the sun, seeing Andrea perched on the roof of the RV, rifle in hand. Shane, Glenn and Rick were already running through the field.
“What the hell.” Daryl mumbled. His head lolled to the side as he lost consciousness. Pulling out a strip of fabric she’d ripped from his discarded shirt, Iris held it tightly to the side of his head, tying it to help the bleeding. With all that blood, he looked like a walker, in all fairness.
“What happened?” Rick asked, seeing Daryl on the ground as they ran up.
“Andrea fucking shot him, that’s what happened. Who the hell let her have a rifle?” Iris snapped, looking over at Shane. They knelt down, hauling Daryl up between them. “Careful of his side.” Rick nodded, noting the blood soaking through his shirt.
“We’ll get Hershel. The horses came back hours ago.”
“Yeah, well, I wish we had, too.” She murmured. Iris adjusted his crossbow on her shoulder as Andrea and Dale sprinted toward them through the field.
“Oh my god!” Andrea cried. “Oh my god, is he dead?”
“Unconscious. You just grazed him.” Rick replied.
“But look at him.” Glenn paled. “What the hell happened?”
“Snakes, walkers, human error.” Iris grumbled. She pulled the doll out of his pocket. “We found this.”
“That’s Sophia’s.” Dale muttered.
-
“We found it washed up on the creek bed. She must have dropped it crossing there somewhere.” Daryl explained as Hershel stitched up the arrow wound inside the farmhouse. He was holding a thick chunk of gauze to the side of his head. Iris watched with folded arms from the doorway, Rick kneeling beside the bed.
“Cuts the grid almost in half.” Rick murmured. He turned, glancing at Shane, who stood by the window.
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Daryl said pointedly.
“How’s it look?” Iris asked Hershel.
“I had no idea we’d be going through the antibiotics so quickly.” The old man stated as an answer. Iris snorted. He and Rick looked to each other, speaking without words. They both left the room, soft voices coming from the living room. Shane huffed, walking out, and Iris nodded to Daryl.
“Feel alright?” She asked. He made a face, leaning back into the first soft bed he’d laid on in months. “Get some rest. You definitely earned it.”
-
The group started gathering for dinner once Carol announced she’d finished cooking, and the table was set up for a feast. It looked nice, but the tension between Rick and Hershel was palpable, and it seemed everyone else had their own problems they brought to dinner. Iris felt bad for Carol. She filled up a pair of plates, bringing them both back to the room Daryl was occupying. He sat up as she came back in, accepting the plate from her. He’d showered since Hershel stitched him up, no longer covered in dirt and blood, and ditched the bloody wife-beater.
“Thanks. You should go eat with the others.” He mumbled, fork already halfway to his mouth.
“I’m good. It’s awkward enough in there.” She replied, perching on the bench in the window. “How are you feeling?”
“About as good as I look.” He replied lowly. 
“You did a pretty good thing today.” She pointed out.
“I didn’t do anything Rick or Shane wouldn’t have done.” He retorted.
“Well, you did almost steal those horses.” She joked, and he cracked a smile.
“You probably saved my ass today.”
“Probably?” She asked sarcastically, and he almost threw a pillow at her.
“I’m trying to thank you, and you’re being a smart-ass.” He grumbled.
“I know.” She replied. “You don’t have to.” He shook his head but said nothing more, and they ate together in comfortable silence.
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thatsbelievable · 2 months
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nerdgirlriot · 10 months
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There's a house on my way home that has one of those Home Depot 12 ft. skeletons and they haven't taken it down since Halloween, just dressed it up in holiday-appropriate wear and of course for June it's all about Pride so please allow your dash to be blessed by 12 ft. Pride Skeleton
EDIT: Oct. 2023 Apparently this house is now for sale. Godspeed Pride Skeleton.
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💀🐴SKELTON PAINTED HORSES🐴💀
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A Curated List Of My Favorite Skeletons (and Skulls!)
We shall start, of course, with the obvious: Stringray!
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Followed neatly by pufferfish!
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gila monster skull (shh they are sleeping)
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moving on to flamingos bc they have so little to work with but they stretch it so far
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veiled chameleon skull (plus art by Elena Barbieri so you comprehend the importance of the sclerotic ring bone!) (bc some eyes have bones! some eyes have bones and that is so so valid)
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love us a good old-fashioned mole
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the tucan, always a fun classic
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in conclusion, a few dainty gibbon skeletons to calm you soul, bc why the heck not <3
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(yes the last one is a real vintage postcard sold in real Natural History Museum gift shops, before for some reason they reconsidered this marketing decision)
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itscolossal · 7 months
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Caitlin McCormack Crochets a Speculative Future in the Wake of Environmental Catastrophe
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nobrashfestivity · 13 days
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Unknown, Wooden netsuke, Japan, 1701-1900
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daily-spooky · 8 months
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jukeboxofjellycat · 5 months
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Owner/artist on Instagram: moonlyhoroscopes
roguelocks said: the current artist is kiracyan.design on instagram
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caemidraws · 2 months
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Verrot and Ichnaea for @/sabattons *:・゚✧
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depressionerror · 1 year
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