Latest Posts by lsunncy - Page 3
HE JUST WANTED TO HELP
FORSAKEN: REDO REPENT REPEAT AU
First instance of Friendly fire
Summary
Shedletsky asks for Elliot and Taph’s help for a plan. He wants to show how reliable and capable he is as 1x is deployed as this round’s killer.
Unfortunately for him, plans aren’t meant to go smoothly.
Note:
I took the liberty of changing some things in the Map with the mansion.. It’s just for plot reasons really since I don’t know how to describe that small area all too properly 🥹
Shedletsky sat near the fireplace, elbows resting on his knees, absentmindedly scratching at his arms. The itch had been bothering him more frequently lately—right where the feathers had begun to spread.
He didn’t think much of it anymore.
Just something he’d gotten used to.
Second Life had a way of changing how you thought about things. And Shedletsky was feeling a lot of things.
His fingers grazed a patch near his elbow, soft plumes brushing beneath the fabric of his sleeve.
There he paused for a moment, watching the flames dance in front of him.
There was a pulse under his skin. Not painful. Just… alive. Like something was waiting.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He was slowly getting better at this. The dying then coming back stronger part at least.
He and the other Sentinels—Chance and Guest—were finally figuring it out, syncing better, fighting harder.
They weren’t just surviving anymore. They were adapting.
And maybe, just maybe, they were getting closer to something big.
He leaned back on his palms, looking up at the ceiling of the cabin as muted voices echoed from the other room and outside—others were preparing. Psyching themselves up for whatever killer the next round would throw at them.
“We’ll get one of them,” he muttered to himself.
“Eventually. Doesn’t matter which one. We’ll bring one down. For real.”
His gaze dropped back to the fire, confidence glinting in his eyes. Victory was a rare word in the cabin.
Most had stopped believing in it after enough rounds.
But he could feel it now—just barely—like heat from the flame.
A win was coming.
And he wanted to the one to deliver it.
The crackling fire was soon nearly drowned out by the familiar, lighthearted voice coming from the cabin’s side window.
Shedletsky perked up, scratching stopping mid-motion as he turned his head toward the sound.
“…you’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t have to deal with cooldowns,” Elliot was saying, voice with amusement but a little strain.
A second figure beside him—Taph—gave a lazy shrug, hands moving in practiced sign language that Elliot translated on instinct.
‘Well my traps are stationary. And I can only put a few down before it expires.’
Shedletsky stood almost too fast, brushing down his sleeves and making his way to the door.
His feet thudding against the floor with purpose.
“Yo! Elliot!” he called, stepping outside into the fading dusk.
Both robloxians turned to look at him—Elliot giving a curious nod while Taph lifted a silent hand in greeting.
Shedletsky didn’t waste time. “Glad I caught you two before the next round ‘cuz I got a plan I wanna test out.”
Elliot raised a brow. “A plan from you? That’s either real good or very bad.”
“Relax,” Shedletsky said with a small grin, “this one doesn’t involve either of you being bait.”
Taph snorted quietly at that—shoulders shaking in a silent laugh.
Shedletsky stepped a bit closer, lowering his voice just enough to feel like he was letting them in on something.
“I’ve been thinking about how we’ve been using Second Life,” he began.
“Me, Guest, and Chance—we’ve been playing offense hard. But the supports are always stuck rotating between the rest of the team, patching people up. No set structure. No anchor.”
Elliot crossed his arms. “You want us to anchor to your squad?”
“Exactly. Stick close to us. We’ve been lasting longer after second life, and I think the only downfall to our offense is that we don’t have an active healer by our side.”
Taph looked thoughtful, tapping a few signs that made Elliot roll his eyes.
“He says he doesn’t want to get blamed if the whole team dies again.”
“To be fair, last round wasn’t my fault!” Shedletsky defended, straightening up. “I was—tactically taunting.. that round..”
Taph signed again.
“…Okay, yeah, yeah.” Elliot says translating Taph’s words to Shedletsky, but Shedletsky already understood what Taph says.
Shedletsky chuckled under his breath and shook his head. “You two in or not?”
Elliot smiled, resting a hand on his hip. “I’m down. If you’re serious, it might actually work. And if not… well, we can probably rework the plan with the others.”
Taph gave a small thumbs-up.
Shedletsky looked between them, a rare moment of silent appreciation passing through him.
“Good,” he said.
“Then we’ll make this one count.”
——-
The world folded in on itself with a low, ringing shudder.
Yorick’s Resting Place was veiled in the night and stillness, as if time had been paused and forgotten there.
A few rounded trees spread the area, and moss-choked stone bridges stretched over a shallow poisonous ravine that ran through the center of the map.
The shattered remains of what might have once been a mansion loomed far in the distance, crumbling under its own weight.
The moment Shedletsky's boots hit the mossy earth, he knew this map.
1x1x1x1
Shedlestsky was thankful that there was an indicator on who the killer was, but It was probably already obvious by the distant sound of ticking and a slash of hateful energy echoed.
But for once, it didn’t put a weight in his stomach when fighting against this creation of hatred.
Not like before.
He adjusted his grip on his sword and moved forward with confidence, eyes scanning the area as the round began.
The survivors had been scattered like usual—no telling where Elliot or Guest had landed—but he didn’t feel worried since he trusted them.
Movement soon caught his eye at the edge of the bridge path.
He approached carefully, footsteps muffled against the firm dirt, until the familiar silhouette of Taph came into view.
The mute trapped was crouched low, hands working swiftly as he rigged a trigger tripwire just under the stone arch of the bridge.
Shedletsky grinned and raised a hand in silent approval, offering a firm thumbs-up.
Taph glanced over his shoulder, briefly raising his brow before giving a casual wave in return, then gestured something quick with their hands that roughly translated to,
'Don’t step here later.'
“Noted,” Shedletsky muttered, nodding once as he scanned the far side of the bridge.
“We’ll make this work. Stick to the plan…”
.
Noob darted between broken tombstones and fog-heavy trees, limping as they clutched a bleeding arm.
Panic twisted in their chest. The static hum behind them grew louder, unnatural, heavy, like a broken wire singing just before it sparked.
1x1x1x1 was gaining.
The dual sword user ran with hatred, and it made himself painfully known. His form flickering in and out of place like corrupted memory.
His limbs twitched at strange angles, and the world around it seemed to bend, rejecting it with each step.
Noob stumbled over a tree root.
They hit the ground with a pained gasp, knowing they wouldn’t have time to get up, but luckily for them—
Crack!
A flintlock rang out through the air.
The single shot exploded into 1x’s side.
The impact wasn’t clean—nothing ever was with a thing like 1x—but it was enough.
The killer jolted mid-step, its body glitching harder, convulsing in and out of shape as if the code couldn’t hold it still.
“Go! Go!!” Chance called out from the treeline, smoke curling from the barrel of his flintlock.
“That’s all I got for now!”
He was already reloading, snapping the weapon open with urgency, fumbling the powder and shot back into place.
Noob pushed themselves up, stumbling toward cover just as heavy footfalls approached from behind Chance.
Shedletsky emerged, sword drawn and posture loose with confidence.
His feathers caught the dull light, shifting with the breeze as he came to a halt beside the Support.
He glanced toward the stunned killer, then at Chance. “Nice timing.”
Chance let out a breath. “Yeah, well, I’ve got one shot per cooldown, so enjoy it while it lasts.”
Shedletsky gave a half-smirk and nodded toward Noob.
“Then go cover them. Patch 'em up. I’ll hold this line.”
“What?” Chance blinked. “You want me to leave you?”
“I want you to flank later,” Shedletsky replied, already stepping forward.
“Get Noob out of here and circle back when we start pushing. You’ve better have a full health—I need you and guest 1337 alive for when 1x manages to hit me down.”
Chance gritted his teeth but didn’t argue.
They grabbed Noob, slinging one of their arms around his shoulder.
“You better not run your luck out before I get back.”
“No promises,” Shedletsky called over his shoulder.
“But I’m feeling quite lucky.”
Noob glanced back as they were led away. “Tell him to not get too cocky…”
Chance huffed. “That’d be like asking 1x to play fair.”
And behind them, Shedletsky walked straight to the sizzling hatred.
The air warped ahead of him—heatless, yet blistering with pressure.
He could feel it crawling over his skin like static, picking at the edges of his mind.
The dual swordsman blinked into form at the far end of the path, standing unnaturally still infront of the mansion. Jagged pixels peeled from their shoulders like smoke, and their dual swords dragged lines of void along the ground with each pulse of their corrupted form.
“Creator,” 1x greeted, voice sharp and stuttering—like it had been crushed through a broken speaker.
“Back again. Your persistence is laughable.”
Shedletsky drew his blade, resting it over his shoulder as his feathers bristled behind him.
“You talk a lot for someone who needs two swords to actually fight. Are you really a real sword fighter?”
1x leapt down without a sound, blades raised, that smirk still buzzing through their voice.
“Says the bird who keeps feeding himself to the fire. What is it this time? Glory? Or guilt?”
Steel rang against steel as the clash began.
Shedletsky caught the first strike with the flat of his sword, twisting his wrist to parry and lunge forward.
But 1x was already stepping to the side, twin blades slashing down in tandem. One hit air, the other grazed Shedletsky’s side—not deep, but enough to sting.
“Still slow,” 1x mocked, flickering briefly to his left side as if reality forgot where to put him.
“You’ll never be fast enough to kill what you made.”
“You’re not me,” Shedletsky spat, spinning to slash upward, narrowly missing.
“But I am what festers inside you.” 1x’s voice warped mid-sentence, doubling over itself in a mess of digital noise.
“Every loss. Every failure. Every second you stood by and did nothing.”
They circled each other—one blade against two.
Shedletsky’s breaths were steady, but his grip was firm.
Each of 1x’s swings came with calculated cruelty, forcing Shedletsky into a rhythm he hated. A fight he knew too well.
And worse—he’d never won it.
“You always get close,” 1x said.
“Then you crack.”
Shedletsky didn’t answer.
He ducked low, swept a leg, then drove his sword upward in a piercing stab.
1x caught it mid-air with both blades, pinning it in a cross and pushing back. Sparks burst from the strain. The killer’s face twisted into a grin.
“You’re getting better,” 1x whispered. “Too bad it’ll never be enough.”
Shedletsky snarled and pushed forward with all his strength, the weight of his own annoyance pushing back against him in every parry and taunt.
He wasn’t sure how long he could last.
But he was sure not going to retreat.
The team needed him afterall.
He knows they needed him.
.
At the graveyard, Elliot’s hands moved quickly, steady despite the tremble in Noob’s breath.
A swipe across the bac and arm slowed them down durastically.
He pressed down a clean wrap, his brow knit in focus as he finished dressing the wound as the medkit was finished up.
“You’ll be good to move in a bit,” he said quietly, offering Noob a soft smile before sitting back on his heels.
The rest of the team lingered nearby, catching their breath, tending to gear, or simply watching for any sign of danger. The others were doing generators so everyone was somewhat busy.
He looked around, scanning the group. “Where’s Shedletsky?”
Chance glanced up from where he was reloading his flintlock, the cooldown glow still flickering around the barrel as they flipped a coin.
“Told me he’s handling 1x by himself at the moment. He’s at the mansion.”
Elliot’s expression tightened—not in worry, but something close to it.
Concern threaded with understanding.
“Alone?”
“He told me to back him up later once Noob’s patched,” Chance shrugged, snapping the flintlock shut with a click.
“Y’know how he is.”
Elliot didn’t reply immediately. His eyes drifted to the side, locking on Builderman at the edge of the group.
The man was quiet, knelt beside a half-finished sentry, goggles reflecting the static-blue flicker of its energy as he made careful adjustments. Focused. Or maybe distracted.
Hard to tell with him sometimes.
But Elliot noticed the small twitch in his hands. Just barely.
He returned his gaze to Noob, resting a hand on their shoulder for a moment before standing again.
“And Taph?”
Chance exhaled through his nose, tapping the side of his head as if trying to remember. “Last I saw him, he was near the mansion. Probably rigging the bridges.”
“Tripwires again?”
“Most likely,” Chance confirmed. “He always starts there when it’s this map.”
Elliot nodded, the weight of his decision already made. He rolled his shoulders back, adjusted the straps of his kit, and glanced toward the treeline where the mansion’s silhouette loomed, distant but pulsing with tension.
“Then I’ll go,” he said, voice calm.
“If Shedletsky’s pulling 1x’s attention, he’ll need someone to support hum.”
Chance raised a brow but didn’t argue. “You sure..? I can go with you.”
Elliot looked over his shoulder at the team again. Noob, still recovering. Builderman, silent. Chance, watching.
“No no, wait for Builderman to finish his sentry first. This group needs defense.”
“yeah,” Chance said. “okay then. May lady luck guide you I guess.”
With that, he turned and started toward the mansion, footsteps quiet, gaze steady.
The trees swallowed him soon after, the chill wind trailing behind him like a silent escort.
The plan was in motion.
And Elliot was sticking to it. And he was sure Taph had the trip mines ready too.
.
Shedletsky's grip tightened around his sword’s hilt, the heat of the fight setting fire to his nerves.
Sparks flew with every clash, and yet still—1x’s strength was overwhelming.
The two danced in a brutal, wordless rhythm.
1x fought like the malice incarnate he was.
Every swing of his dual swords came down with the weight of something more than physical force: hatred, loathing, and twisted familiarity.
His strikes were messy but deliberate, cruel but precise.
Shedletsky missed once—just once. A swing too wide, a second too slow.
And he paid for it.
1x’s twin blades entangled around his in a flash, twisting and locking his weapon mid-swing before slashing across his side with a jagged cut.
The blow sent electricity through his body. A high, sharp buzz rang in his ears as his feet gave out beneath him, the world tilting just enough to feel dizzy.
“Still so weak,” 1x snarled, voice dripping in contempt.
“You swing like you’ve forgotten what made me.”
Shedletsky grunted, pulling back—staggered, yes, but not out.
His health bar flickered in his mind’s eye, a sliver away from red.
Another clean hit like that and he’d be finished.
But that wasn’t a problem, was it?
No. He had a plan.
His fingers twitched near the base of his sword’s blade, brushing over the engraved mark that shimmered faintly with the promise of Second Life.
He wouldn’t go down easy—not now, not ever again.
If the worst came, he’d take matters into his own hands.
One well-placed stab to the chest, and he’d rise again, reborn into a burst of power and resilience. Better and more capable.
So he pushed.
The next time their swords met, it was less like a duel and more like two forces colliding.
Sparks and sweat flew as they clashed, locked together with neither giving ground.
Their feet skidded against the cracked earth of the mansion’s outer courtyard.
Then—
A simultaneous knockback. Their blades collided with a sharp clang, and the impact sent both of them stumbling in opposite directions.
Dust kicked up beneath Shedletsky’s feet as he braced himself, panting.
And that’s when he saw him.
Out of the corner of his eye—Taph.
The support bolting away from the edge of the mansion, his silhouette clear against the dark night.
Shedletsky’s chest lifted with hope.
The traps were ready.
Finally.
Without hesitation, he dug his heels into the dirt, letting out a short breath through gritted teeth as he surged forward.
The sting in his side begged him to stop, but his focus was locked on the mansion ahead.
The field was his now.
Shedletsky burst through the mansion’s double doors, his breath ragged and blade still wet with his own blood.
The dim interior stretched ahead, fog pooling in the corners of the abandoned hall like smoke, and every step echoed against the rotted floorboards.
Behind him—he could hear it.
The thunder of footsteps. The vicious, uneven gait of something that wasn’t meant to walk like a person anymore.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he pivoted mid-stride and threw himself forward again just as a sharp, metallic click sounded behind him.
SNAP—a tension wire sprang to life.
BOOM! Purple sparks crackled in the air as the trap discharged, arcing bolts catching 1x in the legs, blinding the killer with purple flashes.
The manifestation of hatred hissed, his momentum slowing as he staggered through the brunt of the trap’s effect.
Sparks danced along his dark form, flickering against the walls and casting his twisted silhouette in harsh light.
Shedletsky didn’t waste the moment.
He turned, he swung and sliced into 1x’s side, the blow landing solid and clean.
1x let out a snarling growl, but Shedletsky was already pulling back, disappearing deeper into the mansion’s, drawing him in further.
The plan was working.
But 1x wasn’t deterred. He shoved forward with the same venomous fury he always carried, shrugging off the jolt from the trap like it was nothing more than a mosquito bite.
“You run, even now,” he spat, following Shedletsky’s trail. “You think this’ll end any different than the last dozen times?”
Shedletsky didn’t respond.
He didn’t need to.
This was his round and he hopes Elliot finds him before 1x could reach him.
Meanwhile, just outside the mansion’s perimeter, Elliot skidded to a stop, eyes flicking toward the sudden flashes of purple light illuminating the windows.
The trap.
Taph’s trap was going off.
Shedletsky had made it there—and 1x was right behind him.
Elliot sucked in a breath through his teeth.
The faint echo of sword clashes reached his ears, overlapping with heavy footsteps and the static hum of more tripwires snapping under pressure.
He hesitated—only for a moment.
Just a second.
Then he shook it off.
He tightened his grip on his sling bag, the insides glowing faintly with the regenerative energy it carried.
The scent of melted cheese didn’t calm his nerves like usual. Not this time.
Shedletsky was inside.
He needed that heal.
Elliot darted forward without another thought, ducking beneath low-hanging branches and leaping over crumbled steps leading into the mansion.
The world seemed to thicken as he neared the doorway, the sounds of battle getting louder, more brutal.
The light from the tripmines still flickered within.
He just had to find the right moment.
Then, he could throw the pizza at the right moment.
.
1x’s footsteps crushed broken debris underfoot, ignoring the crackle of fading electricity from the disabled tripwires.
His swords dragged faint lines across the stone floor, a slow and deliberate warning.
The traps were gone. The advantage had crumbled.
“You’re not winning this,” 1x hissed, flicking away the last wire with a twirl of his blade. “You know that, don’t you?”
He raised his head, face twisting into a sneer.
“All this noise, all these toys… You’ve barely lasted longer than before.”
Inside the hollow halls of the mansion, the glow of battle had narrowed to a dim corridor choked with debris and shadow.
Shedletsky didn’t reply—his mouth drawn tight, sweat clinging to his temple, and his arm already aching from parrying the relentless hits.
He could feel his health waning, but adrenaline pushed him forward.
He had Second Life. That edge was all he needed. If 1x brought him down, he’d return even stronger.
That thought alone gave him the courage to keep pressing.
Soon their blades met again, sparking against each other’s force, each swing heavier, angrier.
1x’s expression was wild now, savoring the suffering, a predator drawn to unfinished destruction.
They circled through the mansion’s halls, past the scorched remains of fallen portraits and warped furniture.
Shedletsky stumbled once, nearly falling to a knee.
“You’re bleeding faster than you're thinking,” 1x spat, stepping through the remaining trap with little care. “It’s over.”
But it wasn’t.
Not yet.
Behind them, unnoticed, Elliot crept into the corridor.
The sound of steel clashing had told him enough—Shedletsky was stalling with all the strength he head. Likely he was barely holding on.
He had hesitated earlier. He regretted that. So now, with the bag straps gripped in his hands, he moved with intent.
He would get closer—just enough to throw it safely, make sure it landed near Shedletsky before it could be intercepted.
Shedletsky’s vision swam slightly. His body was giving out.
‘Not yet. Not yet.’ he repeated as he would time it—stab himself with the blade, and trigger Second Life before 1x could land the final blow.
He could do this.
He had to do this.
Then 1x began to wind up.
His shoulders pulled back, a twisted black pulse gathering around his swords—mass infection again.
Shedletsky didn’t recognize the bait, blinded by adrenaline he moves forward to stab again.
He moved.
But too fast.
1x canceled the charge instantly and sidestepped, switchinng to a normal fast swing.
It was a trap.
And Shedletsky couldn’t stop the momentum.
But neither of them saw Elliot.
He stepped into the fray at the worst moment possible.
1x’s blade came down first.
It struck Elliot hard—slashing across his chest with enough force to stagger him back toward Shedletsky.
And as Shedletsky swung his own sword forward, still caught in motion from his charge—
It hit.
It struck Elliot clean, right after the first blow had landed.
The moment shattered like glass.
Elliot didn’t scream. He barely had the breath.
He stared at Shedletsky, wide-eyed, stunned. His mouth trembled, trying to form something—maybe a word, maybe a breath.
Shedletsky froze, his hand still clenched around his hilt. He hadn’t even realized. His teammate was right there, and he had—
Blood pooled down Elliot’s uniform as he struggled and slumped forward, falling into Shedletsky’s arms.
For a moment, everything stopped.
Shedletsky stood frozen, sword still buried in Elliot’s chest, his own breath caught halfway up his throat.
Shedletsky’s eyes widened. His grip around the hilt tightened.
“Awfully dramatic,” 1x sneered.
“But it’s in my favors now.”
Shedletsky looked up, and the world lurched.
1x was already winding up again, his swords lifted, coiling in green spiked light.
The energy focused, hungry, and sizzling. For a moment, Shedletsky didn’t move.
But something inside him did.
His body snapped forward on instinct, as if something deeper had taken control.
His fingers wrenched the sword free from Elliot’s chest—too fast, too sudden—and swung it upward in one smooth, brutal arc.
Steel met steel.
The force of the clash sent sparks flying as 1x reeled back in surprise. Not at the block. Not at the timing.
Shedletsky stood, shaking, his breath heavy and uneven.
That familiar radiance coursed through his veins—Second Life. It had activated.
But he didn’t trigger it directly… right?
There was no self-inflicted wound this time.
No deliberate stab to force it through. It had moved on its own, surged through his body like fire and instinct and desperation all wrapped together.
His arms trembled—not with exhaustion, but with something else. Something wrong.
This had never happened before.
And 1x saw it.
The killer straightened slowly, expression twisting into something just shy of intrigued. “...That’s new.”
He tilted his head, studying the faint tremble that still clung to Shedletsky’s limbs.
The small sparks of energy left behind by the forced activation.
Then, with a shrug, 1x spun his swords back into position.
“Not that it matters.”
He stepped forward again, blades at the ready. Whatever curiosity he'd had was gone—replaced by the same vicious grin as before, like nothing had changed.
But for Shedletsky, everything had.
And behind him, Elliot’s blood still soaked into the floorboards.
im trying to keep the bllk volume my friend lent me in peak condition 🙏🙏
i have exam tomorrow hehuehbjejbheibjwoijjoiveoirjrineov
i’m having a lot of fun using a google doc to decide the plot/idea for dress presentation
for the one person that cares guys
Challenging you all!
Put your music library on shuffle, then list the first five songs that come up in a poll to let people vote for which one they like the most!
Then tag Tumblr friends to keep the game going!
THANK YOU FOR THE TAG <33 1. favorite color: yellow or white, can't decide :')
2. last song: the drunk by kiltro!! go listen to kiltro!!
3. currently reading: nothing... sigh... but i'm borrowing bllk from a friend so SOON!
4. currently watching: nothing... again... most recent movie, however, was twisters :)
5. currently craving: chocolate! i can't have it for a little while though...
6. coffee or tea: i don't drink either... but! if i were to rate them based off of purely external stuff, probably tea (i don't like caffeine in most things)
no pressure tags (anybody can respond though!!!): @seijuroww @burnheartmusic (i have no friends LOL)
GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS!
Rules: answer and tag six people you want to know better
Thanks for thinking of/tagging me @thoughtslikeaminefield It’s been a pleasure interacting with you the past couple of days ❤️
1. Favourite colour: Teal
2. Last song: Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry
3. Currently reading: Outlander Series (technically it’s collecting dust on my bookshelf because I mostly read fanfic…)
4. Currently watching: Single’s Inferno, Medium, and forever casually rewatching SPN
5. Currently craving: the bag of sweet chilli & sour cream chips I bought earlier (just waiting for kiddos to go to bed)
6. Coffee or tea: coffee! An iced latte any season.
@losers-clvb @middleearthislife @my-stories-vault @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @jollyhunter
The Underwold Saga. Parte 3
Tiresias: "Sisi, te va a pasar tragedia tras otra, pero mira que bonito vals me sé." ✨
Part 1 - Part 2 ‼️
hi idk if you can tell but i really love your art and i think i scrolled through all your posts and reblogged maybe 70% of them
anyway may i request a quick tiresias doodle :33 (if you cant its fine)
Oh yooo I think ik who you are tysm for the support hehe <3
Ofc you can have a tiresias
reblog to headpat the one you reblogued from!!
mutuals i am politely asking you what color i remind you of
mutuals i am politely asking you what color i remind you of
reblog to headpat the one you reblogued from!!
♪ ༘⋆ ᴅʀᴀᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ — t.todoroki smau
//
♪ ༘⋆ character aesthetics - the boys
⋆ touya todoroki
⋆ okay so i have yapped about touya's aesthetic a lot already, but i am never done yapping about this man. ever.
⋆ dty touya specifically is very high school teenage dirtbag but evolved (he has two compression shirts now next to his bajillion old band shirts)
⋆ baggy shirts, even baggier pants; HOWEVER his slutty ass would totally wear like slightly cropped, tighter shirts during shows and have the tiniest, sluttiest amount of stomach showing
⋆ thick ass jackets, especially when he is on his bike
⋆ other than that basically never covers his arms though, tattoos are always on full display
⋆ is unfairly good at doing eyeliner, he smudges it on purpose, but he gets it straight and sharp on the first try. hair is always black (not one white root in sight) and always messy but in that pretty boy way
⋆ paints his nails which for some reason he also is flawless at, they're always black but sometimes lets himiko put stickers on his pinky
⋆ more on touya: here and here
⋆ tomura shigaraki
⋆ similar-ish vibes to touya, but he religiously wears hoodies and sweaters
⋆ you cannot convince me that he wouldn't pull up in the summer with a fucking hoodie over his head
⋆ i kind of also like the idea that y/n modelled her wearing so many layers after seeing it from him as a kid and it stuck around till now
⋆ does not fw accessories at all, especially around the neck. he doesn't like feeling that there's anything hanging off of it and his skin's too sensitive for most jewelry anyhow
⋆ for that same reason he is also not huge on make up, but does some for shows sometimes
⋆ speaking of, zip up hoodies are his best friend during shows, though he takes em off halfway through most of the time
⋆ on stream he's donning hoodies and sweats, one time while y/n was over he accidentally put on her hello kitty pajama pants (he was tired from a show in his defense) and his chat went wild -> they still make fun of him for it to this day
⋆ shuichi iguchi
⋆ spinner is a bit less of an aesthetic than the other two, he cannot be assed to think about what to wear (he has three adults to parent), so it's mostly just whatever is in his hands first in the mornings
⋆ his closet consists of mainly washed out band shirts and washed out baggy jeans, colors include and are mostly limited to blacks, greys and browns
⋆ does not have any special show outfits (though toga has tried getting him to buy new stuff)
⋆ also not the biggest on jewelry, the only thing he has is tomura's first ever guitar pick on a necklace that he tucks under his shirt, he's had it there since tomura stopped playing with it (in turn his first ever drum stick is hanging on display next to tomura's guitars on his wall)
⋆ the only colorful item in his closet is actually a red sweater he wore under his favorite band shirt for lov's first ever gig and he is very emotionally attached to it to this day
⋆ also not at all a make up guy, lets toga do his eyeshadow on rare occasions
⋆ keigo takami
⋆ i feel like keigo is the type of guy who just looks effortlessly good no matter what he wears
⋆ due to the nature of his job he mainly wears plain black shirts and pants (especially since he basically works 7 days a week)
⋆ dresses up whenever he doesn't work, so whenever he goes out with friends or his partner
⋆ no jewelry, just one expensive watch that was passed down to him and the promise ring that matches with the one his partner has
⋆ he's also the type of guy to roll up the sleeves of any dressier shirt he wears
⋆ not huge on outerwear, but he owns one jacket, that he loves. he doesn't know why, but if it's cold out he will not wear any other jacket
[the girls aesthetics]
[ taglist open ]
tags: @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @hktfbuo @commonmisery @lsunncy @kyiyoko @seijuroww @themultifandomgirl @samm1e13 @kalulakunundrum @porusuniverse @oddball08 @starseclipsing @jlly1 @softasshadows @peachesvault @starzzworld @starrmage @letsgolulu @cristy-101 @brixmeeler @skeletonmoths @togeswrld @personally4runa @sunolls @chiara-hotel @bakugouswh0r3 @rueclfer @bangersplusmash @defnotriri @oliveoil422 @ravencrow1995 @stanstraykidsskz @smelliottle @mistpx @mysticalhills @ressyshi @hachicals707 @undermypersuasion @greenmanshoe @hanmastattoos @dirty-ho3 @koznme @d4rlinxs @hawkwithsocks @tapiocakisses @luvv1anime @n3r0-5352 @haysgarden @makaroni-and-chez @kitkat13001
header made by @koznme ily
♪ ༘⋆ ᴅʀᴀᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ — t.todoroki smau
//
♪ ༘⋆ character aesthetics - the girls
⋆ y/n shigaraki
⋆ doesn't have a specific style per se, prioritizes comfort in most cases
⋆ especially since she gets paint on a lot of her clothes
⋆ wears mostly muted colors i. e. blacks, whites, greys and not a huge amount of accessories
⋆ layers. layers. LAYERS!
⋆ usually wears big ass jackets (that she stole borrowed from tomura's closet)
⋆ she dresses up more when she goes out, but it's still within this kind of style; like if she wears a dress or tighter clothes, she will always pair it with an oversized jacket
⋆ himiko toga
⋆ okay hear me out: i feel like himiko would experiment with her outfits soooo much, like she'd gone full scene, full gyaru and pastel goth before
⋆ the only staple is that she usually wears some type of light colors, she's worn full black punky/grunge outfits before too
⋆ but i feel she's a soft dressy girl at heart
⋆ she usually looks a bit mismatched with the rest of the band, but she always eats
⋆ her outfits are never planned, always a bit chaotic with a bunch of accessories from different aesthetics, but it always works somehow
⋆ always does fun stuff with her hair and make up as well. her staple is space buns with two front strands braided to frame her face. the make up is usually done entirely based on vibes, but i feel like she would do the blush all across her cheeks and nose a lot and like draw out shapes (hearts, stars etc.) with make up remover on her cheeks
⋆ ochaco uraraka
⋆ ik it's not accurate to canon, but dty ochaco is very rory gilmore coded and she would so rock a light academia type aesthetic (she's the academic weapon in this fic!!)
⋆ lots of warm tones and brown tones, not a lot of accessories, but always wears a watch so she can keep track of time (mostly for himiko)
⋆ she is very effortlessly put together and so are her outfits
⋆ she's the girl at the coffee shop editing her photos on adobe lightroom and sipping on her cold brew for hours (many a barista has had a crush on her)
⋆ hair is always either up in a cute bun or half up
⋆ rumi usagiyama
⋆ very masc and very much THE baddie ever!! y2k inspired but very sporty
⋆ the baggiest fits, but body is always tea and you can always tell too
⋆ carabiner always on the left.
⋆ accessories include but are not limited to belts and chains
⋆ hair is always flawless, edges are always laid and her braids always look crisp (usually dons white box braids or micro braids -> she does them herself too); if she has her natural hair out, it's either pin straight or she has the most insane curl definition
[ taglist open ]
tags: @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @hktfbuo @commonmisery @lsunncy @kyiyoko @seijuroww @themultifandomgirl @samm1e13 @kalulakunundrum @porusuniverse @oddball08 @starseclipsing @jlly1 @softasshadows @peachesvault @starzzworld @starrmage @letsgolulu @cristy-101 @brixmeeler @skeletonmoths @togeswrld @personally4runa @sunolls @chiara-hotel @bakugouswh0r3 @rueclfer @bangersplusmash @defnotriri @oliveoil422 @ravencrow1995 @stanstraykidsskz @smelliottle @mistpx @mysticalhills @ressyshi @hachicals707 @undermypersuasion @greenmanshoe @hanmastattoos @dirty-ho3 @koznme @d4rlinxs @hawkwithsocks @tapiocakisses @luvv1anime @n3r0-5352 @haysgarden @makaroni-and-chez @kitkat13001
header made by @koznme ily
when ur mutuals are mutual with each other
pro: squad con: i saw this post like 18 times today
does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver
DRESS PRESENTATION!
keigo takami (hawks) x reader smau, model au
an: more of a teaser than a trailer.. sorry. formatting sucks but we deal w it.
tag list (open): @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww @personally4runa
dividers from: @saradika-graphics
sorry chat. doing model au anyway suck it
nobody is going to see this but doing this anyway
(@chaoslibra because you gave me like two/three of these ideas)
OKAY SO IF YOU SEE THIS PLEASE PLEASE @ PEOPLE SO MORE PEOPLE YOU THINK WILL ENJOY IT WILL SEE IT. I DON'T KNOW ANYBODY SO I CAN'T TAG ANYBODY LOLLL
i think i cooked at my sports event (i got dead last) (only 9 people on my team showed up)
chat im a little nervous for this sports thing i have in a few hours!!