#bout time i made one of these

[arbitersart]

pinned post

arbiter | adult | she/he/they | requests/comms open

Current Interests: Hermitcraft, Life Series, Ace Attorney, JJBA, Godzilla

author of And If You Close Your Eyes, Exogenesis, and Burn Notice. editor of The Golden Phoenix.

this is my art account and a side account, so you won't see this url follow you back!

I’m a digital artist, writer, editor, and obsessive maker of playlists. My Real Person Job is marketing, aka a cog in the corporate machine.

I’m known in some circles for being a fic editor who’s beta read for quite a few people, most notably @emiartse for their sbi fic The Golden Phoenix. I love helping people improve their writing so if you need a pal to look over your work, you’re absolutely welcome to ask. I did get a degree in That because i enjoy it so much.

This blog does engage with hermitshipping/trafficshipping, though it’s more of the latter and grounded in characters in the Life Series and just tagged that way to accommodate for people who don’t want to see anything related. You couldn’t pay me to care about the love lives of real YouTubers, I have like. A job and stuff. I pay taxes.

I take a pretty lackadaisical stance on following and mutuals, which again shouldn't matter much bc this is a side blog. I unfollowed one of my best friends in high school because he wouldn’t stop reblogging marvel headcanons and I tailor my feed really specifically. If we were mutuals and I unfollowed or muted you, it’s more than likely nothing personal and sometimes I come back! If you unfollow me… well I probably won’t notice, I’ll be honest. Again. Job and taxes.

I don’t really keep a dni list because that’s not in my control, but since I’m in mcyt circles, know that I openly hate dreamteam + wilbur soot, and love talking shit about them because of *gestures to all of it*

My current projects are as follows:

Burn Notice (4/?) a rom desert duo spy au, my current baby. Will be probably 8-10 chapters

ExoGenesis (2/?): rom ethubs/divorce duo sci fi royalty/bodyguard au. Told through a series of one shots or 2 chapter fics. Casual side project [ Parts: 1 _ 2 _

Secret AU: Coming August 29th

Great Asset: potential gen fic following the GIGS crew through horror based adventures in the fictional world of Lethal Company. Up in my head but not written down

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[juaneloriginal]

silly thingy

@blackkatdraws's sillies

[404-art-found]

Buddy ref sheet NOW!!!!

FUN LOOSE REFERENCE SHEET

mask can be on the helmet or under it. any body type. any suit color. varying amounts of blood on it if ya want. go ham be free

[donnydamakkk]

unpopular opinion: there is no point in the show in which jeid would have made sense. jj never seemed interested in him, and his feelings always felt misconstrued and misplaced. they never had that kinda chemistry.

[lokijiro]

Tween Frigga visits a witch who tells her that she will marry a king and have two children. Tween Frigga is a little disappointed because she wants seventeen children.

When Frigga is told that she can no longer have children after Thor's birth, she is confused. She is certain that despite what she is told, she is capable of having another child. However, Odin refuses to try; he won't risk Frigga's life or health, even though he hates that his queen is miserable and he knows he needs a spare.

When Odin brings Loki to Asgard, Frigga immediately knows that he is her prophecized second son.

[no-context-nonsense]

Pretend it’s Saturday…

It’s hockey season bitches which means it’s time to reread Sweater Weather and cry.

[icedjuiceboxes]

Honestly my interpretation of Emily going back to the past to DH1 is that she will have an absolute shit time and understand why her father was a soaking sloppy mess majority of the time.

My time travel au idea is its still all post-jessamine death, Emily gets thrown into the past after silton mansion, and Emily has to rescue corvo the day of his execution bc the loyalists og plan failed ANYWAY

Reasons why Emily would have a miserable time:

- Multiple markeds (Daud + whalers, Delilah + witches, granny rags + executor)

- isn't being dotted on when she was young so Emily is eating all the shit food everyone else did + drinking the shit liquor everyone else has to

- has to deal with the jackasses Havelock, Martin and Treavor

I don't know where else I'm going with this but do you see the vision gang

[dimonds456]

Howdy!

I'm Dimonds456, and welcome to my garbage pile. I'm a bat who stays up way too late and cannot decide whether or not to be productive. I draw, write, animate, play/write music, and I'm also insane so watch out for that.

I'm neurodivergent, disabled, queer, white, a singlet, fictionkin, and a proud cat papa. I am a cartoon character who is way too bouncy for their own good lol.

They / he / xe!

This is my main blog, but my ADHD ass also has a bunch more.

@dimonds456-art - my art blog! Almost all art gets rbed there!

@dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai - my HLVRAI sideblog! Because yeah why not. This is one of me current hyperfixations lol it's bad

@rubberhose-roy is my sideblog used to gush about 1920's-40's aesthetics, music, culture, ect., as well as an animation blog! All my animations specifically will be reblogged there, as well as any animation rambles or gushes I do.

I have more but those are the main three.

My fandom-specific blogs are:

@dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai (again)

@hlvrai-stuck-together - HLVRAI AU I run!

@halfnautica - Half Life / Subnautica AU!

@a-second-chance-su-au - Old SU AU that has been discontinued, but the blog is still there!

@batim-rewritten - a Bendy and the Ink Machine rewrite I'm working on

@cuphead-contract-au - A Cuphead AU where Mugman makes a deal (discontinued)

And, I have my own OC story, Follychromatic! I reblog all that stuff here, but its main blog is here!

@follychromatic

To see pictures of my cats, check the #Checkers and Chess tag! :D

Okay great. Now, DNI, trigger warnings, disabilities, special interests, and more below the cut. Make sure you read at least once, k? Thanks.

Welcome to my cave!

DNI

Do not FUCKING interact if you are:

- Someone who ships pedophilic, incestuous, or abusive ships while portraying them as positive and a good thing

- A bigot

- An LGBTphobe / transmed / ect

- Trump supporter

- Nazi / fascist / conservative

- Weird about furries or furry art

- Weird about fandom headcanons (specifically trans woman headcanons)

Trigger Warnings

I will tag as much as I can, and if you want me to tag something specific, let me know! But as a general blog cover, things that appear on this blog often are:

- Current events

- Talk of / discussion of sexuality (sometimes boardering on NSFW but not usually)

- Blood

- Guns

- Flashing

- Talk of proshippers (I try to be respectful but also I don't stand for them and I don't support them. I block and move on, and try to explain why proship is bad, but eh. I've only been listened to like once lol)

- Swearing / swear words

- All caps

- Bugs

- Suggestive content / NSFW (RARE DONT WORRY)

I will add more if anyone wants me to, or we can come up with a custom tag, like what I do for one of my friends! (#dimond don't look)

DISABILITIES

Hiiii I'm disabled! Both mentally and physically. I talk about being disabled a lot and try to generate positive talk about it. I also vent about it. I've had quite a few of these, and I also try to reblog as much about others I don't have as I can to increase awareness and understanding. So yeah! These are just the ones I have, but they are not the only ones that appear on my blog!

Hyperthyroidism

Graves Disease

Graves Eye Disease

Astigmatism

Athsma

Audio processing disorder

ADHD

Autism

Trauma / PTSD

Brain fog / disassociation / memory loss

Anxiety

Depression

Cane user

Weak / trembling limbs / trouble walking / trouble holding onto things sometimes

More to be added lol.

This is also a meds/treatment positive blog, a self-diagnosis positive blog, and my general attitude is just "if you think something is wrong you're probably right, you know yourself the best, even if you don't know what exactly is wrong." This attitude has saved my life and other people I know. You don't need a diagnosis or medication to be disabled.

THIS IS A SAFE SPACE.

If you are Jewish, black, brown, Muslim, indigenous, any religion, any race, any sexuality, any weird gender, anything at all- I love and support you. I'm still learning, and I try to learn as much as I can, but I'm not perfect. If I say something offensive or something adjacent, it was NOT on purpose. PLEASE, PLEASE tell me what I said wrong. I will make an effort to improve in the future.

I directly support:

- All races

- All religions*

- All sexualities (except pedos, y'all aren't LGBT, I'm sorry. You're actively hurting children. I've seen it again and again. Stop.)

- All genders and pronouns

- All "weird" identities outside of that as well (I'm fictionkin myself)

- Protests and protesters

- Neurodivergent people of all types (and yes, this means NPD, schizo, and all those other types that are often seen as bad or evil. I love you, I see you, and I support you.)

- DID & OSDD systems

I DO NOT support:

- Antisemitism

- Genocide

- Cults (*stuff like Jehova's Witnesses. I support the members, as they are victims, but I actively dislike the people on top who perpetuate the cycle. Not just JWs, but those are the big ones who come to mind. Hearts out to all the victims, I hope everyone gets to a better place soon)

- Racism in any way, shape, or form

- Religious discrimination of any way, shape, or form

- Israel specifically

- Trump, conservatives, Nazis, ect.

- Endo systems

If I have reblogged or said anything that aligns with the bottom list, that was a mistake. PLEASE let me know and I will fix it as fast as I can. You reading this right now, I love you. I hope my blog can help you feel welcomed and like you have somewhere to go if you need it. /gen

MY FANDOMS / INTERESTS

I HAVE ADHD AND AUTISM AND I'M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE'S PROBLEM /silly

The current special interests are HLVRAI and Half Life, current hyperfixations are Half Life and Poppy Playtime.

SPECIAL INTERESTS:

- Minecraft

- HTTYD

- FNaF

- Undertale / Deltarune

- BATIM / BATDR (unfortunately)

- Subnautica

- Biology

- Steven Universe

- Cuphead

- 2D Animation

- Writing

- HLVRAI

- Half Life

HYPERFIXATIONS (interests but not the special ones):

- Little Nightmares

- Hello, Neighbor (unfortunately)

- Petscop

- Portal

- Freemanverse (HELP ME)

- The Amazing Digital Circus

- The Owl House

- Gravity Falls

- Monster High (very first from what I can remember! I remember nothing though! But it's there!)

- Poppy Playtime

- Half Life

- Wild Kratts (I didn't even know there WAS a fandom until very recently, hi guys)

theres more but my brain is an egg :/

When it comes to ✨me,✨ I have a couple of original works as well! Specifically, Follychromatic! I won't get too into it here (bc shy) but it's 2D animation, rubberhose animation, magic, character-driven, action/adventure, mystery- yeah!

Outside of fandom, though, my special interests are biology, 2D animation, and writing. I am an animator and I suffer for fun.

YOU MADE IT! Have some Checkers and Chess pictures for your time! :)

[lusalemaart]

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[todayisafridaynight]

dude I just gotta say thank u for all ur amazing art bc I JUST finished y7 last night and I'm missing my emo losers (daigo and masato) ONLY TO FIND THEM EVERYWHERE HERE plus mine!!! ur fics are also on point as well I think I commented on the "quiet" one but everything aside ur style is just so nice on the eyes and very fun! bonus ur nanba is very cute he's so silly to me fr :3

HIIIIIIII ive been watchin you go through all my art in real time ngl LAKRJLRKJ SO THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!! masato's my evil awful toxic girlfriend and i miss him every day and i love being delusional about him and daigo so im glad my goofy postings do somethin for others too lol.... thank you so much for all your love and support !!!!!!

[nocentis]

Black Arum ┆ Siegrain

Content warning: main character death, cannibalism, gore, toxic/unreliable narrator, highly canon divergent character portrayal. Read at your own risk. You will probably take psychic damage from this.

╳┆A lure was stuck in the soot between his lungs. Many times he'd felt the tug — enough that the wire fray had worn a rut where his ribs met — and many times he'd found her on the other end, reeling for remnants of him that no longer existed. She would aim to break him open, sift around in the cinders for those specks of him she wanted to confiscate, keep for herself, so that she could finally be rid of him. Once those flecks were washed and panned, the remains would reek like plough mud closure. For that reason he would come to her whole, every whit of ash accounted for.

A cherry little game they'd play. Her with flint and steel, eager to reignite that paltry spark of "good" that flickered freely for a lapse before he remembered himself. Him with tinder and kindling, letting it light only to call on the rain again. Her with just enough hope. Him with just enough time.

That resolve was so very compelling. More than her beauty, her candor, and even that glow he so loved to bask in — that luster he wanted to hold between his teeth and bury under his nails — more than that, her tenacity was a toothsome temptation, and he wasn't keen to deny himself anything.

So when he felt the pull, he caved to the beck and spooled the lisle. That day, the line seemed lighter, thinner, than it ever had. It should've been strong. Tensile. Instead it felt gossamer fine and just as frail, poised to tear at an ill touch, and he wasn’t exactly renowned for his gentle hands. Still, he gathered it with both palms and wrapped it proudly around himself like a ceremonial sash, grin scrawled across his face something devilish.

╳┆He found her lying in the shade beneath a long-lived magnolia, still and silent as she never was, with the color of her namesake spread around her head in halo streaks. Battle-torn, as she so often was, and yet uncannily... passive.

Anything he'd planned to say went out the airlock. Instead, he stood there with an anchor in his stomach, reaping the benefit of doubt.

Not a frown nor a sigh when he darkened her sanctum, only heavenward eyes tearless and unblinking and a resigned breath just short of peaceful. That worn tether waned phantom thin, light as helium, and the tension in his chest went slack.

There was no definite snap. No dramatic severing or ear-popping moment of clarity. Only the vague sense of loss so fresh a wound that denial was a numbing salve.

“Get up,” his voice a command, sandgrit against whetstone, thickened by an unnamed antigen.

The silence felt like mockery. A placid scene void of chittering fauna, clouds' drum, or even the most timid breeze. It wanted him to hear the absence of her breath and the stillness of her chest. It wanted him to hear the hollow. The empty. The nothing. Wanted it to resonate; to find the furthest reaches of his mind and clean them out until all that was left was this icy, clarifying silence.

He knew the end when he saw it. This was something much worse. It was robbery.

Her life wasn’t for the world to take. It was for him to hold in his hands. 

Something wet and pathetic slicked his tongue — some whiny, pleading thing — and it was stubborn as oil. The authority slid to the back of his throat and left him choking, “You are the indomitable Titania. You’ve laced fingers with Death time and again only to rise and slay and conquer, so get up.”

Her warmth was set to a slow drip, spilling from her in tired beads and seeping soundlessly into her chosen ground. Little whispers of her lost to greedy loam, sullied, never to be returned.

A waste of precious love. The sod won’t drink of her as he will. It will take of her and give back what? New “life” so fragile and fleeting? A feeble weed will take root, bloom its days few, and curl itself inside out? Pathetic. An insult to her legacy. An insult to the diamond-split sharp of her bladesoul.

His heart boiled over — popping, sticking, simmering sicksweet saccharine. It colored him cloying, flooded his mouth, and forced him to kneel at her altar.

"Please," he keened, hollow and morose, and his own pleading sickened him, “Say something.”

The sun trickled through the leaves like ichor, lighting up her black-blown eyes and the thin ring of honey surrounding them. Dim, distant, and dead as the moon.

His hand carved a path to her face, fingers featherlight against her fading flush. He brushed her bangs from her eyes and forced an unbroken breath through his quavering mouth. He traced each scar too faint to see and the parts of her skin their star kissed. Memorized the map of her face — each curve and crease, each fine hair, and every eyelash. He would carve out a space in his mind in her shape and fill it with the thousand sweet nothings he kept in his pockets.

He gathered her hand and threaded it with his own. When he opened his mouth, a rickety twine escaped from the deepest point of his chest, so he forced his jaws shut to keep the grief corked. He uncurled her fingers and pressed his cheek into her palm, trapping her there against his own scarred skin. His eyes fell shut as he breathed in this borrowed touch — this moment fated, stolen from him by this world's insatiable avarice.

He kissed her palm directly in the center; held it against his mouth and felt his own ruined breath echo back to him from the deepest grooves of her skin. Again, he begged, “Please, Erza.”

Of the armors innumerable now haunting this hallowed ground, this one least befit her. 

He revered Death. If there was a god, surely it was Death, he thought, for Death asks for nothing but life. The dead don’t know that they’re dead. They know a split second of euphoria and then a sharp, definite end. Isn’t that the work of a gracious god? One last stroke of color whether in peace or peril, and then eternal rest. Back to the dust you sprouted from.

But now he couldn’t see any of that beauty he often waxed poetic about. All he could see was change yet to come. All he could see was her, and he wanted her back.

He wanted her back, yet he knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as resurrection. While Death might be gracious, it was not generous, and it was not to be reasoned with.

The thought of her buried deep, bathed by the dark and abandoned to rot — it washed his mouth acid sour. It ate straight through his tongue and lingered in the roots of his teeth, burning, raging redhot in his jaws’ marrow.  A grave didn't suit her anymore than a pyre.

Soon she would be cold. Stiff. A feast for flies and their insatiable young. In the days to come, she would bubble and bloat and sallow. Her skin would loosen and slough off. The sun would bleach her bones. The meat of her would melt into oil and fat and bogspit. She would mix in with the soil, the groundwater, and this thankless magnolia would thrive.

It was tall, thick, with branches spread in all directions. The lowest of its limbs showed off the varied deep greens of its large waxy leaves, their undersides a chalky brown. A few white flowers bloomed, palm-shaped petals open in praise like they'd come to witness and worship. There was no question why she'd chosen to crawl here. It must've reminded her of home.

Despite its beauty, it was hardly worthy of her. Nothing in this ravenous world was. Her grave should be carved within his chest. There, he could keep her warm. He could host her in his veins. One day, they would wade the waters of woe together. Until then she could live under his skin.

He wouldn’t allow her to spoil. Wouldn’t place her gently into time’s whittlesome hands only to lose her peel by peel by rotting peel.

This world has taken much from you. Do not allow it to take her too.

A carnal ache etched itself into bone, a depth of passion he hadn't felt since he wrought for a false Heaven.

She is a fruit, ripe as a plum and twice the taste. Peel her open. There is a seed at her core. Plant it in your soot-field chest and watch her bloom anew.

What are these hands for if not this?

Flesh like sheets of silk. Muscle like rope. Blood like honey. Bone like an ivory trove. The splitting, the squelching, the straining, ripping, snapping; it burrowed marrow-deep and lingered there. Her chest peeled apart like jagged teeth, jaws croaking their rusted tune, and inside that redslick maw was the center of the universe.

The heart upon its throne, still as she, shielded by her precious lungs. It slid into his palm like it was always meant to be there. Raw, rich, and so very scarlet. Its sinews strained against his pull — those hollow vines that fed even the furthest parts of her — so he wrenched them free and draped himself in them like matchless finery.

Eat. Eat ‘til you’re sick. There’s a hole the size of her in the pit of your stomach. Eat until you fill it. 

What are these teeth for if not this?

Tough as leather; smooth as rubber. His teeth slid right off the rind and clicked together with nothing but metallic sheen between them. He gnashed at that ink-dripping muscle until he found a spot weak enough to tear apart. It tasted of rare meat and iron; a heady gore thick enough to drown in. He swallowed, gasped, and that first new breath felt like a blade.

The child inside him saw her split-open ribs as his cradle. He wanted to crawl inside, curl up, and die. He wanted to paint himself her color.

He lost his vision to the hot, angry wash. His own sobs were a distant sound, muffled by meat and blood and his own desperate fingers. He was numb in the mouth and in the shake of his hands, but he forced himself to eat, eat despite the choking, the gagging, the wet, weeping remorse.

Don’t you dare throw her up. Be grateful. Swallow and say thank you and finish what you’ve started.

He bit into his own palm, indistinguishable from her core, and he cried out in sour relief. His hands spread raw grief over his face, through his hair, and down his neck.

You’re no better than this starving world.

He curled into himself, hands clutching his own aching chest, and despite the cloudless sky, he called upon the rain.

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Murmuring | requested by Anonymous

"I love you, crazy bird lady. Do you love me?”

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

To be honest the dialogue in twd is absolute ass sometimes but the actors deliver their lines with so much conviction that it kinda slips by. You yell that convoluted sentence with your whole cunt, girl.