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#dark and dicey
elvandara · 9 months
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And then the fire is all Lisee can see. Time catches up all at once and there’s someone screaming very close to her as her eyes snap shut on instinct alone, afterimages still hot and red on her eyelids. There’s the sensation of freefall, of landing hard at the bottom of the pod as the brightness disappears all at once, and then she’s surrounded by stillness, but someone’s still screaming, and her father is dead. With the sense of a candle being blown out, Lisee’s world goes dark.
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A first edition of i am the fire, i am the forest, i am the witness watching it. Hand-bound using commercial black bookcloth, Thai marbled paper in "Firestorm," and red cardstock. Typeset and story by me.
Summary:
Lisee Wirecheek is alone, but she's far from defeated. After Winkerbean, the sorcerer who held her captive for four years, kills Lisee's father, Werblund, Lisee wakes up on an unfamiliar island surrounded by Werblund's former adventuring party. Though Lisee is disoriented and stranded, she's willing to do whatever it takes to make Winkerbean pay — even make a deal with a god of vengeance.
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riminaahn · 1 year
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Kovacs is Goofy confirmed
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nanoa1foryou · 1 year
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Forgot how much I love Nate making bird sounds as a response to anything happening.
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madam-libraaarian · 1 year
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Art vs. Artist 2022
(uncropped images below)
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quinistiredd · 2 years
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// small blood splatters
LOOK WHO I DREW !! his armor took so much mental strength holy shit. needed to draw him, though. i lub him :D
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starrcrossrose · 2 months
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Someday I want to write an actual LeoIchi centric fic. Somedayyyy somedayyyyyy
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scaryscarecrows · 3 months
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"Promise me something, love," Kitty breathes. Jonathan does not like the sound of that.
"Kitty--"
"No." She coughs, a nasty rattle that should be in a hospital, and grips his arm with surprising strength. "Promise me. Promise me if I die--"
"You won't--"
"If I die," she presses on, "you'll be happy. You find happiness in something."
"Kitty, I--"
"But on God, you'd better stay single or. Or I'll haunt you."
There it is. At least it's a reasonable promise, somewhat.
"I promise," he murmurs, peeling her fingers off and tucking her hand back under the covers. "Now go to sleep."
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ijwrff · 3 months
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UPDATED-WRITING COMMISSION INFO:
So I'm like. Real strapped for cash. I was in the ER twice and missed work for like 2-3 weeks. Those medical bills are coming in, with school bills, gas, all that on top of it. So I'm gonna open commissions, at a discounted price. I'll keep 3 slots open for this page, and if anyone had questions you can always DM me/send in an ask if you're comfortable. It's a first come first serve situation, and I'll be making a post saying when slots are taken, and update it as the slots fill up.
I'm binging homework today, so will hope to have all of that done by the end of he day, and have all day tomorrow to knock out some commissions. If anyone could help out by commissioning I'd really really appreciate it <3 and even if you can't, a reblog could be so helpful to me, I'd be grateful!
(If you want other fandoms, I'm in. Like a lot. So you can check out @ ijwrsmff, or if you want something SFW, I write little space fanfics over on @ lynnslittlelife of all fandoms on my other page!)
Below is rules and prices!
Genres I will write for:
Yandere, SFW, Platonic, NSFW, gore, angst, fluff, polyamorous
What I WONT write:
Noncon, water sports and scat.
Commissions will NEVER be under the paid word count, but they can go over and I will never charge for that because sometimes an idea just takes me away.
500 words-$3
1,000 words-$6
Every additional 500 words, $2.
(Max of 5,000 words for this batch, with the max price of that being $22)
Thank you guys! I appreciate every one of you <3
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thatwitchrevan · 4 months
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I've got so much actual play to watch this holiday.
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elvandara · 9 months
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𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭
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ᴘᴏꜱᴛ-ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ, ʟɪꜱᴇᴇ-ᴄᴇɴᴛʀɪᴄ, ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɢᴇ. ʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ.
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After two years in the works, the first two chapters of i am the fire, i am the forest, i am the witness watching it are up on Archive of Our Own! Affectionately referred to as my "Lisee Vengeance Arc," i am the fire is the first part in the scorched earth series, which follows Lisee as she grows into the Wirecheek family legacy — and the powers bestowed upon her.
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nanoa1foryou · 1 year
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Episode 1 and Pluck is white girl drunk attempting to throw up on Werblund to show his affection. I'm dying.
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newsiestober2023 · 7 months
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October 8:
Trapped
October 8th's prompt is Trapped! There's always the feeling of being trapped-even in a city as big as New York...but then there's being physically trapped as well...
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madam-libraaarian · 1 year
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Cool drawing I did a long time ago of Trixa Teardew and Izzoz from Dark and Dicey, because sometimes a family is a 17-year-old who looks like a kindergartner and the demon who possesses her.
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artnerd1123 · 2 years
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realized i didn’t have a decent ref for her fur patterns n stuff, so i maded this :3
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wings-of-flying · 10 months
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oh a kenku! i love kenku
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mvth3r · 2 months
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thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…
18+, mdni
AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!
daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.
he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.
it hadn't started any differently with you.
that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.
daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.
in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."
over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”
in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."
trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."
the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.
‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.
when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”
laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”
inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.
‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.
startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”
when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”
and in… other moments as well.
your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”
daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”
daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.
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