I need to make a brighteyes au because holy shit bro. I need to write her and so her justice as a character.
She’s not just “Shedletsky’s wife”. Sure she’s not a magical badass but she isn’t some housewife. People tend to write her completely badass or completely “shedletsky’s wife” but I need to write my interpretation of her.
Its kind of a Judy Hopps situation. Admins don’t exactly believe in her because they’re all tight-knit while she’s so new! Builderman especially is an asshole. While they don’t tell her she isn’t capable to her face the whole admin team is “bro’s bros” and so they tend to be stupid around her and she just wants work to be professional. Not to mention their sense of justice is “majority of society is the goal” while hers is “whats right is to be done and whats wrong is to be discarded.” She has a sense of justice for whats right HAPPENING then and there no matter what elites are pissed by it and the other administration just. Doesn’t think that way and it pisses her off to no end..
If I write/Draw an au for this, Roblox will 100% be written overall in a bad light. Just as in real life, admins dont seem to be trying hard enough to do whats right. They don’t actually care about the crimes and just want the platform to be clean. Performance over Substance and money over value. The platform and therefore world will be borderline apocalyptic due to the disregard of no one other than the admins themselves.
Shedletsky and 1x meet postforsaken. Shedletsky wants 1x. 1x is repulsed.
Or, a star crossed post forsaken au where the lives are tied together. 1x would rather die than be with shedletsky.
Main character death.
Ao3 link
https://archiveofourown.org/works/81599386
Shedletsky had been strolling through the forest a lot recently. Something about being alive, outside of that forsaken place, something was almost bittersweet about it.
He had gotten used to the routine, to having nothing, to not needing to be so responsible.
To accept fate.
But now? For some odd reason he was back. Back in Robloxia.
He had to relearn how to fly. He had to relearn how to be normal because not everyone was in a never-ending death loop.
He had to relearn he wasn’t being hunted.
But that was the problem. Being hunted was something he found solace in. When he was being hunted down in that realm, he finally found a purpose. To attack, to be a swordsman again. Something not even Robloxia would allow.
Now he was home. Just as he had rested his head on his pillow before waking up in that place, he had woken up warm as if he had actually just slept.
He didn’t just sleep though. His body was littered with scars that could only mean that the world he was in was real.
So now here he is, escaping to the forest again. Not because he needed something new, but because he needed the old routine. He needed to hear the ticking of the watch he bought after a week home. He needed to hear the leaves under his shoes. He needed to feel isolated and away from home because now such populated places made him feel claustrophobic.
Shedletsky had been strolling through the forest a lot recently. Something about being alive, outside of that forsaken place, something was almost bittersweet about it.
So here he was, repeating the routine. By choice this time.
Shedletsky had his earbuds in, enjoying music from years ago. He hadn’t been able to enjoy new songs at all. It was like he was entirely out of touch despite the fact he never fully left.
Then he heard a clinking sound. The sound of swords slashing wood. He felt that there was a sort of electricity in the air. The kind of tang in the air that only comes from an inseparable bond. The way magnets clink together. North and south clinking together.
Magnets.
He looked up. There she was. 1x.
Something in him swapped up. Feelings he couldn’t actually feel without acting. Even if it was different, it was similar.
He didn’t feel numb around him. He felt human.
He felt whole.
Still, he put up a mask, walking over like he never felt empty.
“Heyyy Eggs! What's up? It’s been a while, hasn’t it??”
He watched as the enraged figure’s gaze snapped towards him. Felt as the air tingled with the connection of the two swordsmen meeting once more.
“Do not call me that. What are you doing here.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a threat. Something to tell him to keep his distance.
Shedletsky wasn’t an idiot by most means. He played the role, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. He felt 1x’s hatred, which means 1x felt his compassion.
Shedletsky looked at 1x relaxing her posture. As usual, they balanced each other. Yin and yang. 1x felt less hatred, and Shedletsky felt less reckless.
Well. Reckless in his usual sense. He walked right over to the other swordsman, sitting down close. A close he wasn’t supposed to have.
Shedletsky pulled. Some could argue he was pushing.
“I miss that cycle. I miss the never ending loops. I’m sure you miss killing me. I miss running..”
The swordsman was unusually honest. It was out of character, but only because his character itself wasn’t whole. Not without 1x.
“It’s hard adjusting, isn’t it eggs? It's hard to sit here and act like nothing ever happened. Act normal..”
1x scoffed, standing up ready to leave.
“I’m not going to sit here and pretend your puny brain can comprehend me.”
1x pushed. Some could argue he was pulling.
The swordsman smiled, chuckling to himself quietly. It wasn’t mockery, it was something else.. admiration? Something even Shedletsky wasn’t able to name.
“Your posture is presented stiff, yet your shoulders are relaxed. Your gaze is cold, but not as scrutinizing.”
He took a second to watch a bug as it crawled on his leg, not bothering to remove it. It wasn’t harming him.
Even then, bugs harm people when they’re scared. All animals harm people when they’re scared, even humans.
Even 1x1x1x1.
“We might have been one once-god forbid never again, being a god such as Telamon is something I wouldn’t wish to ever be again-but I remember what it was like.”
The bug bit him, and he gently picked it up to move it to a spot that had fabric so the bug wouldn’t irritate his skin more.
“Telamon-at least when I was Telamon-was fearful. He was scared of mortals, scared of judgement. Scared of everything. That’s why he was so cold.”
He looked back up at 1x, just to see how they were reacting.
Shedletsky wasn’t antagonizing, wasn’t “ragebaiting”, it was an honest conversation between himself and the part of him he both loved and feared.
“I’m not saying you’re scared. I’m not saying you are fearful of judgement. Neither of us are Telamon. We’re simply the shattered pieces of what Telamon once was.”
1x narrowed their eyes. They didn’t speak for a good moment. Just stared, as if analyzing Shedletsky.
Shedletsky was just watching the bug on his shorts.
“You speak half of the truth. You only remember some of it.” 1x scoffed. “You know how I remember Telamon? ‘Cause I’ll tell you. He was confident, he was without mercy-as a god should be-and he was strong. He wasn’t some fucking wuss like you.”
“I guess that’s what’s funny about it, huh?” Shedletsky didn’t need to think of a response. “Telamon was you, yeah. You are confident, you don’t take people’s shit, and you’re unbelievably strong.”
1x scoffed. “Don’t pity me with your ingenuine compliments.”
Shedletsky laughed. “No, seriously! I mean it!”
Then 1x laughed back, although the tone contrasted. It was angry. “Alright, well if you’re gonna lie, I’ll tell the truth. You know what you are? A coward. You’re a coward who hides behind a comedy mask.”
1x’s voice started to raise. “And you know what’s funnier than the act you put up? The fact, FACT. EVERYONE believes it!”
Well, 1x was right. He took antidepressants every morning, took anxiety and insomnia medication. The medication made him feel even more numb than if 1x wasn’t there, but it made him able to joke about it. Isn’t that how the meds work?
“You’re right. And only you would know that because we’re north and south. No matter how much distance or obstacles block our path, we’re bound to meet again.”
1x looked bewildered. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“Crazy enough to take your hands in mine.” And he did exactly that. “You’ll always be a part of me, and I’ll always be a part of you.”
1x didn’t tear his hands away. He just stared. Like a deer in headlights. Too shocked to move. Too shocked to speak. So Shedletsky continued.
“I know you can’t feel compassion, or sympathy, or anything like that. However, if I were here by your side-like I once was-I would take every moment being as patient and caring towards you as I am now.”
1x stared. Didn’t speak. Just stared.
Then she brought her hand to her hilt. Shedletsky heard the sword come out of it, but he trusted 1x.
1x didn’t know trust.
The sword slammed into Shedletsky, and pain like he once felt routinely returned. A deep, gut wrenching pain that would make Shedletsky scream no matter how many times it happened.
As crimson stained the white hoodie, Shedletsky’s eyes started to wet. He cried, not just from pain, but from a part of himself rejecting him so forwardly.
Then something unexpected happened. 1x fell over with Shedletsky.
They were both dying.
“What the fuck..” 1x seemed more confused than in pain. Perhaps she didn’t know how magnets worked.
Shedletsky laughed, coughing up the liquid that can only be from within himself. “We’re yin and yang, you can’t have one without the other..”
1x gritted her teeth, voice tight. “I’d rather be dead than be a part of you.”
Shedletsky smiled, although now it was broken. A smile of hope he had that was now lost. There was no hope when the end was seconds away. “So be it.”
Design is basically on justajoey’s rehab au, but he is not from the rehab au. I simply use it as a faceclaim
⋆˚꩜｡ Scripter/Scriptor
⋆˚꩜｡ around 21-24 mentally
⋆˚꩜｡ doesn’t care to think about his gender, sexuality or pronouns
⋆˚꩜｡ Bipolar II
⋆˚꩜｡ Psychological liar
｡𖦹°꩜.ೃ࿔
⋆˚꩜｡ History
Scripter was one of the first admins on the team, and the youngest one at the time at that. He was created by Builderman as something not quite NPC but never quite conscious. Artificial intelligence would be the best to describe it.
This freedom of not being a direct NPC and the power of testing possibly dangerous scripts made him incredibly curious on how far things could be pushed.
This mainly led him down a path of embezzlement, though he also wanted to push by leaking one of Roblox’s proudest features that had been in the works for an extremely long time in comparison to their other projects: the sparkle particles.
The disappointment of the admins had been growing to frustration for a while, but with the leak of the sparkle feature, Scripter had to be let go.
Scripter didn’t go down without a fight, however, and it ended up in a physical altercation between him and Doombringer-his mentor and closest relation. Doombringer swung the hammer, and it hit Scripter smack in the face. The impact left in the metal of his face was nothing but a gaping hole and cracked metal where his eyes should have been. Because of this, he wears thick fabric over the area his eyes should be.
｡𖦹°꩜.ೃ࿔
⋆˚꩜｡ beliefs
Due to losing a part of his literal face to Doombringer smashing his head in with his hammer, Scripter has a serious fear of doombringer. He’s terrified if they met again he would be gotten rid of for good
Scripter highly believes he did nothing wrong back then. He dismisses and downplays his own actions as an impulsive decision made by a youthful mind and that the admins were at fault for not enforcing rules from the beginning (they did, but he spins it really well)
Scripter is a highly impulsive pathological liar. He doesn’t even lie about necessarily important things, he just makes up some random shit to sound cooler than he is. If people have a good eye, they can 100% identify things that don’t match up in his story.
｡𖦹°꩜.ೃ࿔
⋆˚꩜｡ more headcanons
Scripter has an AC function to cool his inner system down but does not in any way have a function to heat himself up. This can lead him to be quite cold sometimes as he can’t necessarily retain heat beyond his metal.
In addition! When he’s cold he gets incredibly irritable like a toddler with no nap. Give this man a blanket.
Scripter has Bipolar II. He’s usually entirely monotone and apathetic, but he has moments of major depressives and rarer moments of hypomania. His hypomania is usually just represented by a more upbeat mood and reckless behaivor. Despite not knowing he even has this, he differentiates between normal/depressive and hypomanic because when in hypomanic he spells his name “scriptor” rather than “scripter”
Builderman tried to teach Scripter how to drive all of one times. It went incredibly horrible. Like trees on the road and mailboxes tossed in the air like graduation hats like a WAAPP road. He is banned from driving not only in Robloxia, but in The Banlands as well somehow!
In this interpretation, Don has an unstable, abusive family in which he inherits the mafia from. He is a survivor of heavy topics such as certain RAMCOA traumas. Viewer discretion is advised.
This interpretation is made completely from scratch and has nothing to do with forsaken or Dream Game/Frozen Souls
ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ name: Don Sonnellino
ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Nicknames: Donnie, Mr Sleepy, Maf, Mafi
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Age: 24
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Gender/Pronouns: male, he/࣪him
ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Sexuality: gay
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ PTSD
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Anxiety
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ RAMCOA survivor
⋆࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ collection of memories
many of Don’s memories are hidden in his subconscious. Due to this you will be given a collection of memories rather than a stated history.
Mr sleepy’s haunting dreams
⋆࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ fears
Don’s biggest fear is definitely turning into his father. He tries to keep soft to those he holds dear, only hurting the people he thinks deserve it, but its incredibly hard to do that when you refuse to admit you are in need of help. Because he refuses to do this, he 100% lashes out frequently at people he cares about.
⋆࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ headcanons
- Don would spiral from being called bunny or anything adjacent, lashing out in anger if he had to hear that association in his head again.
- Don knows both of his parents are dead, but does not remember how either of them died
- Don has many memories he blocked out, only remembering a small handful of his life besides the last few months (this stays consistent as time passes.)
A bit of a short post, but I see these as mostly stories spun out of proportion. Some Robloxians make horror stories and they turn into fear-mongering or mass hysteria if they turn out well known.
Whether a creepypasta becomes established because Robloxians intend it to be or because yellowjournaling and other types of media outlets cover it and make the issue worse is entirely dependant on the creepypasta
Similar to real life, its almost always just some story woven and only the impressionable feel its real. Because most Robloxians believe its some cringe story or know not to fall to scareware like smiledog, its thankfully almost never manifested.
@truthfullytally heres a proper answer to your ask!
Most of this is classified information I cannot reveal to you.
In short, Robloxia itself in this interpretation is a game: Roblox. Only two beings written are aware of this, and this will be delved into in a Hierarchies post.
Play your part, PLAYER. Make your ACCOUNT, play your PART, whatever that may BE.
