#i need the soder

[vinesaucejoelfacts]

𝔉𝔄ℭ𝔗: 𝔍𝔬𝔢𝔩 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔢 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔶𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫-𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫, 𝔶𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔊𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰.

[nofacednerd]

if I had a nickel for every time I wanted to make a new custom sims save file...........

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 2

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,899 of 5,084 Prev | Next

AO3 Link

The Markets of Oz are normally packed during the daytime, ladies coming and going to get groceries and maybe a new dress or two, but they are flooded during the night markets of Lurlinemas. If you have the chance to look without getting swallowed in the waves of the crowd, you can see green lights strung from brick building to brick building (the bricks painted green for lack of renovation funds), newly built stalls in the main square that sold roasted quail for a quarter, and a great Spruce that had been brought in from Winkie Country, its top cresting just past the meager buildings that boxed in the square. Emily tugs me along as I admire the great golden star that was perched atop it, emeralds chiseled into the shape of snowflakes adorning each tip.

"If we move any slower they're going to run out of hot chocolate," she says, pulling me by my elbow.

The hot chocolate in the night market is one of a kind, spiced with warm cinnamon and sweetened to the point that it hurts your teeth. If I could have it year-round, I think I would like that very much, even if I did eventually get sick of it. I follow after her in our immediate quest, trying to shoulder oblivious men and women out of the way.

"How many presents do you need to get?" I ask as we get in line for the cocoa.

Emily pulls her green-gloved hands out of her pocket, silently ticking off her checklist on her fingers. "Six," she says.

I try not to drop my jaw at the idea of such wastefulness. I'm not sure there are six people that I could call friends, much less that I would be willing to spend my wages on for silly presents. In truth, there was one, but she would chastise me if I tried to get her anything. Still, I couldn't help but wish for something to get her.

We order our hot chocolate and sip it as we stroll through the sea, dipping and dodging any particularly rude costume choices. We had stuck to our uniforms, hiding them under the woolen pine-colored peacoats that were standard issue for when we had to lend an extra hand in shoveling off any balconies that got covered in snow during the wintertime. There was no option for us to have extra extra wide-brimmed hats or wired puffy sleeves that were the size of small dogs. Even if we had the option, I don't think that I would have done it on a regular market day, much less in the nights leading up to Lurlinemas.

Emily stops at an ornament seller and takes her time browsing the brilliant sun catchers and rhinestone-encrusted baubles. The glass and “sodering” (I’m sure it’s silver-colored glue) look far too flimsy, so I tell her I'm going to the next booth to look at ribbons and laces. The price of laces haven't gotten any better (in fact they had gone up by 6 cents) but I look at them anyway.

Most clothing could be mended, but there was only so much to be done about laces as they became more and more unraveled. If you had a friend in the mailroom, you could persuade them to let you borrow some rubber cement to stick the frays back together. If you didn't, you had to dip the tips of your laces in the wax of your candle at night. The wax didn't last nearly as long as the cement, usually cracking off within a day or two. I wasn’t friendly with anyone in the mail room, so I had slowly been shortening and dipping my laces until they just barely tied in a regular knot.

My eyes flicked over the shades of olive and forest and moss, until they had reached the box of ribbons. There is a skip in my heart as I remember how the Wizard had tied the ribbon in my hair just days ago. If I close my eyes, I can feel his hands guiding the ribbon up from the nape of my neck and the warmth that radiated from them as he tied the bow in place. If it is true or not, in my mind he has a smile when he looks at me after. I wonder if these ribbons would make him smile like the one I still have in my hair, if they would make him...

I have to look away from the ribbons for a brief moment. The thoughts I had of him since that day have not been pure and kind. They are selfish. I know that they will lead me down a path of trouble if I linger on them. I have my sister to think about and it would not do if I were to lose my job at the palace. I could not save her from the children's home, but they still let me visit her and send her things. I don't send her much, most of it disappears within a few days, but I bring her sweets if I have time to swing by the bakery after I am no longer needed for the day.

Looking back at the ribbons, I can't help but wish I could get one for her. I want her to feel as pretty as I did that day in the Wizard's bedroom. The kids would have a harder time taking the ribbon from her if I braided it into her hair, away from their jealous hands. My eyes flick up to the price card that is held in a coily golden wire stand. 200 cents! It's more than double the price of the laces.

I bite my lip, but my mind is already made up. I look at the shop lady, but she has her back turned attending to the till and adding pennies to it from a green paper sleeve. I snatch a pistachio-colored satin ribbon and shove it into the pocket of my peacoat. Quickly, I slip back out into the crowd of people, heading back to Emily in the ornament booth.

I'm jerked back, my forearm locked in an iron grip as it is hoisted high, so high above my head that I'm afraid my shoulder will dislocate.

"Hey!" I shout.

"There is zero tolerance for stealing in the Emerald City," The man says. I scrape my tiptoes against the ground to get a better look at him and realize that I've been detained by one of the Emerald City's Royal Guards. The green coat with gold trim and accents is unmistakable, accompanied by a sharp green officer's cap.

"I didn't steal," I lie.

He fishes into my coat pocket and pulls out the ribbon that I had stashed in there. "Is that so?" he says. My shoulder burns as he drags me back to the lace and ribbon booth, chucking the spooled-up ribbon back to the shop lady. "Sorry about that, Hazel. Street rat."

I can't help it as the words come flying out of my mouth, “I am not a street rat! I work at the palace!"

"Good," he says. "Then I know where to take you. Lets me get off my shift earlier at least."

He lowers my arm, only to twist it up behind my back, his other gloved hand grabbing hold of the collar of my coat. I shout at Emily, trying to fight against him as he marches us past the ornament booth, but I'm not sure she heard me. She has a confused look on her face as I'm dragged off, but she doesn't do anything to interfere. We may share a bed in this cold weather, but she's never been the type to stick her neck out for anyone, no matter how big or small the injustice. I wouldn't expect her to start with me.

By the time we get to the palace the hand behind my back is numb from the position and the cold air. The shame and fight has long since left my body, my mind trying to focus on how I will provide for my sister and me, or even if I will be allowed to see her again. Do they let criminals into the children's home? Would they even let me stay in the Emerald City? I try to remember what happened to criminals that were detained in the palace. There had been a boy in the kitchen who had been caught with a whole ham hock in his bag when the kitchen staff was closing up one night this past summer. It had been such a scandal -- it was all the staff could talk about for two whole weeks straight -- but in the end, I could not remember what had become of him, only his original crime that had been passed on by those who had been in the kitchen when the joint had been discovered.

We don't go through the main doors, neither the servant's entrance, but rather a side door that I had never seen before. It must have been for guard use only. They crawl the castle like an infestation of ants, so it only seems natural that they, like ants, would have cracks and crevices to aid their coming and going. It's dark, but soon I see that we are in the main entryway. If I can remember correctly, the guards' barracks and offices occupy the left wing from the audience room (convenience for removing unruly guests from the days of King Pastoria, I suppose). Most in the Wizard's personal service have no reason to go there.

The Wizard. There's a sort of heavy disappointment that sits like an oversized and cold jewel on my chest, deep beneath the layers of wool and scarves and uniform. It's not the disappointment that a child might feel under the disapproving eye of a parent, no. It is something entirely unfamiliar: an anger at myself that I might never see him again, that my last impression on him will be one of a thief. But wasn't that what I was? I had stolen the ribbon, no intention of paying.

The guard marches me up through the darkened emerald halls, passing the large pillars, the walls carved with their sharp geometric designs. I take in the sight of all of it knowing that it will be my last time seeing any of it. We're crossing the audience room, the heart of the entire palace, and nearly to the other side when I see him.

He's in a deep green almost black suit. The lapels of the jacket are peaked giving him the appearance of being even taller than he already is. He's talking to a stocky man, at least two heads shorter than him and twice as wide, wearing the uniform of the palace guards with a few additional golden cords strung over his chest that my jailer doesn't have.

I try walking faster, dragging the guard who had my arm pinned behind my back. I don't want him to see me like this. Better to just have all of my stuff gathered and thrown out the back door with me than to disgrace myself even further.

"Uh…Guard," a voice calls. I know it's his. I hate that I know that it's his.

My captor stops in his tracks, spinning us around to address the two men. "Captain," he says, giving a nod to the shorter man.

The Wizard has a confused if not irritated look on his face. I can tell that I've made him upset. How poorly must this reflect on the palace if members of his staff are getting arrested in the street? He says, "Are you going somewhere?"

The guard looks to the stocky man who gives him a subtle nod of the head. "Street rat," my captor says. "I caught her stealing in the market. I'm taking her to booking and calling the head of staff for the palace. She said she works here."

"Well, yeah," the Wizard says. "I can see that. Anyone can see that." He approaches me and pinches the thick wool of one of my coat lapels in between his thumb and forefinger. I try not to look too hard at the gold ring on his thumb as he drags it back and forth lazily against the material, stroking it as if to assess the warmth of the garment. "She's wearing a palace coat. Initials on it and everything."

My captor seems tongue-tied by this, I can hear his mouth open, a gasp for air as if to say something but nothing comes out. I dare to look up and see that the Wizard has his eyes locked on him. The way he's looking at him with those amber eyes reminds me of grade school, when we learned about the flora and fauna of Oz in biology. When talking of tigers, our teacher had told us that if you could see their eyes through the grass it was already too late. You had been stalked for hours before even noticing and they never got close enough for you to notice until you couldn't get away even if you tried. Foolishly, he tries, saying, "I need to take her to booking. She is a stain on the image of the palace."

The wizard drops my lapel and walks back to the officer that is now resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It makes me nervous, but I'm not sure for who. Would they execute me right here in the audience chamber? I wouldn't be the first. The Wizard bends down and whispers something to the officer. I watch his eyes tick back and forth as he processes the secret.

"Guard," the officer says, "Leave her to me. I am sure you are wanted back in the square. Where there is one thief there is sure to be more."

I can't see his face, but I know that my captor is annoyed. He'd been hoping to clock out early and now he had to walk all the way back down to the market square. That brings a smile to my face as I hear the hesitant click of his boots and feel all the blood start rushing back into my arm as he lets me go.

We stand there, the three of us, until we hear the loud echo of the door shutting. The short man salutes the Wizard and makes his exit. The smile drops from my face as I realize what little law and witnesses there were had just walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the tiger.

"Stealing?" he says, cocking his head to the side. Immediately, he sets to pacing around me.

"It was just a ribbon, Your Wonderfulness," I say. My shoes have become infinitely more interesting to me, noticing the way even the stitching of the leather to the soles was starting to fray near the toes.

He laughs and it is quiet and deep, sending a prickling from my shoulders down my spine. "Did you like the first one that much? You could have asked for another."

"It wasn't for me," I say.

I can feel him tug on the braids that wrap my head. I had woven the ribbon into them earlier today. There hadn't been a day where I hadn't worn his ribbon since I got it. It was risky, and eventually Emily or someone else would catch on, but I didn't want to leave it in my nightstand and come back to find it missing, pilfered by someone's sticky fingers. So I had woven it into my hair where no one could take it, where the Wizard was now tracing its crooked and dashed path against my scalp.

"You are a terrible liar, missy" he says. "What are we going to do with you?"

Let me go? Kick me out of the palace? In truth, I wanted things to just go back to the way they were, no ribbon, no staff suspicions, just me and my chores and the shared bed with Emily. My voice quavers as I feel his finger stray from the twisted path of the ribbon, wandering onto the pulse of my bare neck, stopping underneath the corner of my jaw. "I won't do it again," I choke out.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he says. "But you can't be trusted. To have a thief in my staff... well, it would just cause too many problems. First ribbons, next other things..." He completes his circle around me and I find myself facing him again.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask.

He smiles, revealing to me a flash of hungry white teeth. Too late. He says, "Do you want me to?"

I shake my head, my lips stitched together in case any wrong words should fall from them.

"Such a fascinating creature," he says, perhaps to me or perhaps to himself. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest? I have... things to arrange."

He leaves me there in the audience chamber, shaking. If you see them, it is too late. I am standing there, head still on my shoulders, and yet I know that I haven't escaped. If you see them, it is too late.

[lone-pylon]

My Thoughts on the Nuances Behind 47's Emotional Dependency:

This is going to be a long post, so I'll put it behind a Read More:

I often find myself coming back to the post-Dubai cutscene where Lucas questions 47 about things he had never had the time or care to think about before. Things like his future, his desires, his loyalty to Diana. He has so much trust in her. So much so that, when challenged by the first person he ever trusted, admired, and befriended, he still firmly defends her. Grey's reasoning behind his distrust of Diana is: "I don't like executive decision makers" Well, of course he doesn't. Lucas is extremely emotionally-driven, and understands fully the consequences of blindly relying on authority. Whereas 47 doesn't. 47 has always been dependent. We see this early in his life when he bonds with 6/Lucas. Lucas was always independent and free-thinking, always asking questions and acting as 47's big brother and guardian figure. 47 was always seen as the Most Gifted Boy, never asking questions and never failing to please his superiors. He had expectations to carry, and fulfilling those expectations gave him a sense of purpose in life. It wasn't until he started clinging to 6 that he began deviating from those very expectations, resulting in his -to put it bluntly- chemical lobotomy.

It's been shown over and over again that 47 is, in fact, a fear-driven person. He constantly seeks approval from those he perceives as authorities to himself, those who know exactly who they are, what they're doing, and what they expect of him (Ort-Meyer, Lucas, and Diana later on). His desire for meaning stems directly from fear: fear of imperfection, fear of death, fear of betrayal, fear of uselessness. Every facet of his Self is influenced by fear. So, when confronted with someone who nurses every one of those fears (Diana), he attaches himself to them, because they confirm his own perceptions of safety and purpose.

It's so... Tragic. He is wholeheartedly dependent on Diana. From the surface, it'd be easy to say "47 isn't dependent, he's a competent adult." But then you peel back the layers and you realize, no, he is dependent. He needs to be.

Diana pursued a degree in psychology because, in a revenge-driven obsession, she wanted to understand what made people tick. She wanted to learn how to manipulate, to control, to dominate. When she met this man, this emotionless, confused, empty person, she saw an opportunity for herself. She didn't feel anything for him. No pity, no sympathy, no understanding. Instead, she was almost giddy at the realization. She saw 47 as nothing but a tool to further her own goals and to propel her reputation; to say to Soders "I told you so". 47 was the only agent she was able to successfully control because he was, in her own words, a blank slate. She could puppet him however she wanted and leave no loose strings. And 47 had no idea. All he wanted was a path, a purpose, a goal, and she gave it to him. And it was easy.

After Dubai, Lucas tells 47: "You have to face the possibility that there's no going back" But he can't. 47 immediately responds with defending Diana, going back to that safe, comforting dependency: "She'll make it right. She always does." He doesn't want to face that possibility. He responds the way he does as if to say "Don't make me think about things I don't understand". His response to things that confuse him are just another reaction to things that scare him. Anything he can't predict, understand, analyze, or kill, is terrifying, and he no longer has the means to grapple those complicated feelings. Instead, he attempts to avoid them altogether, to derail the topic with something more logical to him, more predictable, more safe. But the part that breaks my heart the most is the pre-Romania cutscene. The nightmare sequence, right after he's poisoned. The entire cutscene is showing us his inner thoughts, his fears. What makes it so tragic, though, is that all of these fears are speaking in Diana's voice. Even in his own mind, his existence still revolves around her. All of his fears, his self-loathing, rely on her judgement. They aren't even his own thoughts anymore. She is the one holding the scales.

It isn't until we see Lucas appear in these hallucinations that we finally see some sort of reasoning happening in 47's thoughts. We hear his voice, his own cognition, his admission of unknowing. This is the point where he's finally breaking free of his strings, asking himself "What do I do?" to which the ultimate response is a resounding "Embrace yourself, but don't let the past define you."

[depthstracking]

My name isn't important.

What is, however, is if you wish to commission my services or not.

It's quite easy to befriend others, if you've gotten the hang of it. Especially if you can provide them with ample targets.

I'm not claiming to be their boss- no, I'm far from it. It's a... collaboration. An agreement. A pact.

I find their targets, and they handle the rest. Simple.

And right now, I have quite a few friends at my disposal.

@m4fios0 [CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE]

@hell--excluded

@d-soders

@dying-mall-mafia

@soldier1x1x1x1

@smthngcl0ver

@keepinyadebthfree

@eveninhelltheresdebths

@mafiaw0rker

Go ahead. Time to tempt fate :)

(or feel free to @ me, I'll see it.)

HELLO!!!!!! im grey :) you've probably seen me around.. on my main blog... siccing the mafia on people... heh. heh heh. heh. WELL. I'M GLAD TO ANNOUNCE THAT I AM EXTENDING MY VARIOUS CONTACTS TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC USE!!!

@grey-washere << here's my main :) I'll be using that one to sicc the mafia on people I choose lol

BUT!!!!

YOU!!! YOU, my dear friend, can now commission my services!! any forsaken/dream game/roblox/friend/any blog you need targeted?? Well friend, I am here!

I'll update this as time goes on, but that's about it! :D

psst psst if you have a mafia blog and wanna get added just @ it in asks I'll add you

dividers masterlist

TUMBLR IF YOU KILL THIS BLOG IM GONNA KILL YOU. IM GONNA SEND THE MAFIA AFTER YOU TUMBLR

[mekachu04]

Just a drabble - Machine of a Dream

In some scifi 'verse, teenager Kidd finds a Soldier Unit Machine in the scrap yards he frequents. Its a great find, and he's excited to strip it for parts.

Turns out, it's still more functioning than anyone realized

Just a drabble over on dreamwidth and below cut

"Why'd they throw you away then?" the kid asked, trying to make sense of the circuity exposed in the metal soldier's back. "Were you bad at following orders or something?"

"I was very good at following orders," the machine assured him. "The issue lies in humans giving conflicting orders and then getting angry with the fact I cannot follow a contradiction."

'Orders' and 'Programing' were years out of Kidd's skill set right now unfortunately - but he could follow the wiring and make an educated guess what got pulled out of place and what made sense assuming the designer had followed logical lines of design

"What was the contradiction?" he really should try and understand why a killing machine had been scraped instead of reprogrammed before he made it mobile probably.

Interestingly, the machine did not answer immediately. Almost like it was thinking how to explain.

Defective then. It happened sometime with Machine Learning. Treat them human too much and they learn that behavior. For all militaries did to eliminate humanity in the ranks - machines had started to replace even that aspect.

"You must understand," the machine said finally, "That of my core programing, one of my most basic functions, is to protect my human Commanding Officer. It is written into my processors as my first order, above all else."

Kidd nodded that he understood so far. It made sense; Protect the Squishy one giving the orders.

"Did you not do that or something?"

"Quite the opposite. I was given a direct order by /his/ commanding officer and it conflicted with my first order. The top man in my chain of command told me to execute my CO and I did not follow it. I should not be allowed to disobey a direct order from any human officer above me. Yet I did."

Kidd hadn't reconnected any wiring yet - he'd need to soder it in place to correctly fix it, but he didn't have the tools on hand. Still, as the looked at how to replace some of the metal pieces that had broken or bent far out of shape, he could rig a temp fix, he was sure. "So somebody ordered you to kill your human and didn't. What happen to him? The human officer guy?"

"Since I have been scraped and discarded, I do not believe he is still alive. He was not loyal to the new family, so I see little chance of him being spared unless the was able to sneak off the Island."

For a machine- he seemed awfully sad about that idea. "Was he a good man. Your human?"

"Good is Relative. All men believe themselves good" the machine said - but almost gently, instead of a biting retort." But Officer Ceannand was a just man and he was patient and fair. He did not have many Soldier Models- mostly young humans under his command. But we were all his Soldier Boys, and he treated us all, machine or man, with dignity."

"Can you move your arm yet?" Kidd asked, turning the bolt tighter around the wire ends.

The Soldier Unit was able to raise his left arm a bit. It wasn't smooth, but it worked. "Do you find it wise to repair me? I am defective after all."

"Part of me just wants to know if I can," Kidd admitted, "But there's also the fact you're still... functioning. Still, processing and talking. In that sense, you're still alive and it would suck to be stuck in the trash like you were and just be waiting until a connection finally rusted away and let you die. I can't leave you to that."

"I am a machine. I am not alive so it is not correct to call it death."

"Humans are just electrical pulses too. But we just got squishy pants that are harder to replace."

"And when your electrical pulses stop- you cannot be reanimated. Humans and machine differ quite alot in that regard."

Kidd was quiet before shifting his attention to the machine's knee structure "Maybe, I just wanted to rebuild a kickass Robot Friend."

"While an interesting objective, I am afraid the last part in unobtainable. I am a machine. I can not be a friend to you. I can be programed to care for you. To protect you. But it is a Program. Nothing more."

"How'd I do that? Change your programing?

"On it's code level, I do not know. I am not allowed to know."

"What's the other way? You said code level"

"My chain of command would need to change my commanding officer to you."

"Fat chance with that."

"Indeed." The whirl of machinery humming away filled the quite, before the Solider Unit spoke again, "My last Chief Officer was not bright. He only needed to verbally assign me to someone, and it would of nullified my contradictory orders."

Kidd forced a bolt through two plates to haphazardly hold them together as are temporary fix, "Wait -what?"

"Officer Ceannand was my CO. When Boss Brathadair assassinated Boss Athanir he became the head of the house, and therefor his orders overrode all other humans. He became my highest authority. His order were above  Ceannard's - including my assignment. To have forced me to follow his orders to execute Ceannand, he had only to assign me to anyone else."

Kidd looked at him ruefully, "Would you have explained that to him if he let you?"

"Of course not. Brathadair is an idiot and even if he is my Chief of Command now, he wont be for long. His officers do not support him and he will be upsurged. And as much as I can hope for anything - I do believe it will be soon."

Kidd laughed outright at that, motioning it to stand. The machine was almost surprised when it could. "You are very skilled. Remarkably so."

"I just tinker," Kidd shrugged as the machine took a few steps to re-calibrate for its new weaknesses and adjust its balance. "So who's your commanding officer now?"

"I cannot definitively prove Ceannard is deceased so it remains him until furthar notice. I would then belong to his Commanding Officer - and so on. I still belong to the Family," it stressed, "If by chance they issue me a directive, I still must follow. You are in very Real danger, having repaired Me"

[smthngcl0ver]

"UH. HIIII"

> "Pleasure to make everyone's acquaintances, you all seem very lovely! I should go hide now <3"

I'mm baaackkk with another blogg because I need one where I actually know the direction I want to go in.

MAIN INFO !

(Call him a Stupid Rabbit, its funny) - coguhs go check out @agenteighter they're the reason Clover exists (both with the Division Soders and just in general, their lore n ideas do end up playing heavily into Clovers lore and some unseen ocs that arent on this blog. Alsooo check out their ask blog @ace4thespades !!) - Clover goes by a lot of names, mainly the Clover and Pawn. Club is a name reserved for their coworkers and boss, As it's his actual name. - Pawn goes by He/It, though accepts They/them to shake it up on occasion. - It is 24 years old (originally 27 when i started the blog, but, uh, explodes) - 5'4. - He is LOUD, and talkative, there's no hiding how he feels either his emotions are on its sleeves. - Clover is a henchman, Working for Mafioso despite his... Apparent listening issues. Its sheer luck that things go as planned when He's involved. - Technically a survivor, if he was in the game he'd be a skin for mafioso tbh,,

VV [ TAGS! ] VV

"Oh, Heyyy theree! Never seen ya before." - First interaction "You're back?" - Continuous interactions "Let's leave this to my luck." - In Character "Good to see ya again." - Interactions w/ Other Henchmen "Why didn't you come back?" - Interactions w/ @ace4thespades 's Chance in specific /evil "Boss!! I listened this time I promise!" - posts w/ Mafioso “Miss Eunoia! You're here!” - Interactions w/ Eunoia "Jeez you're tall, stop that." - Interactions w/ Killers "Ok so then you- And dont forget to -" - Interactions w/ Survivors "I think i lost the gamble" - Out of character

[ Clovers Ref Sheet!! ]

VV { RULES / INFO } VV

- Don't be TOO rude, I'm aware I'll be loud and probably a bit annoying on this blog unlike how i was with Nico. - Pleasee do not bring Politics onto this blog, I'm Floridian and using this blog (+Nicos) as an escapism thing - Flirting and being slightly suggestive is fine, but please, not too much, and No NSFW at all. - Magic Anons are chill with me, just don't go overboard! - If you dent like my blog, that's ok! just don't show up to say that, you can always block my account ! - This is my second ask blog, both of them are meant to be Forsaken ocs, but @m00nlitphotography has a LOT more ties to Block Tales. - my main is @m0nochromat1c btw ! - I still don't exactly know how to run a rp blog, and I'll still be active with Nico, but I decided I needed an oc who I could actually have match how I act, so I wasn't stumped with interactions (Because I really want to interact with blogs!! And I get really excited when people entertain my nonsense!) (I will still be running around the usual parody blogs I like, but now I'll be more likely to come off Anon) - INTERACTIONS ARE SO COOL AND LOVELY!! AND I'D BE REALLY HAPPY IF PEOPLE INTERACTED WITH MY GOOBER! - same with shipping tbh, again bro's an oc and that's unlikely but I'd giggle and kick my feet. - cringe is dead and I'm 6 feet in the floor -I'm 18! and a freshman in college! I take online classes this year but that's likely gonna change next set of classes I take. However, that doesn't stop me from being active at ALL. - I also yap.. a lot if you couldn't tell, so check tags! - This is all for fun! I wanna be joyous :3

CLAIMED ANONS - Evil Anon , Angel Anon, Document Anon

[phoenix-and-found-family]

Unconditional Love

Who wants a whole bunch of angst :3

Dr. Prism was definitely not staring at Agent Phoenix.

She was definitely not watching them as they rolled around on a desk chair, posing like an admiral while her robots pushed them all over the room. (They called it a 'bonding activity'. It was nice that they cared about them.)

She was definitely not going out of her mind with worry, turning the conversation she had with Reginald over and over in her head.

She was definitely not paying attention to her work- Did she really soder that wire there?

She cussed loudly which caused all three of the crew of the U.S.S Going to Hurt Themselves to turn to her with concern.

"Pop Roxs?"

"Dr. P?"

"Do we need to kill something?"

She shook her head no and sighed.

"I'm good. And please Right, stop assuming you need to kill something for me whenever I curse."

All of them were clearly still concerned, but eventually they resumed their goofing off.

She put down her tools and sighed. It was no use. She wasn't going to be able to do anything productive until she told them how she felt.

Even though...

"Hey, Reginald... You know Phoenix pretty well, right?"

He smiled, like he usually did at the mention of his agent.

"Well, I would hope so. They've broken into my office at least a dozen times by now."

She decided to bite the bullet.

"Phoenix, could you come over here, please?"

Robulter stopped suddenly, causing the chair to topple over. Before she could react, they sprung off the falling furniture, doing a cartwheel in the air before landing in a superhero pose on the nearest counter. They looked surprised but completely fine.

They stood up and brushed themselves off.

"Yeah, sorry."

"What's, like... what's their favorite food? Or movie, or something."

He looked a little confused.

"Well, they are partial to sandwiches... Roxana, what's this information for?"

They walked along the counters instead of getting down, sitting next to her with a smile.

"Am I killing something for you?"

She shook her head and sighed. (They were right there. They were right. there.)

"Please don't... Look, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Their smile flickered for a second, their eyes filling with a noticeable fear.

"I... I think... I think I'm in love with them."

The feelings she had been trying to hide hit her like a truck and started spilling out of her.

"They're incredible! They're smart, and acrobatic, and hot- really, really hot-"

"I... Supposedly, the feeling of falling in love is the same as a life-or-death situation."

She wasn't sure if that was true, but she didn't particularly care.

"And as I've been through both, with you... Falling in love is scarier."

She tried to gauge a reaction from them, but their face was unreadable, frozen in the fake smile.

He cut her off by putting his hand on her shoulder.

"... Roxana... You can't... You can't ask them out."

She looked up at him, confused.

"Because they'll say no? Because they don't like me like that?"

"I've been hiding this for... I don't know, a while now."

She chuckled dryly.

"I'm not going to get mad if you say no. Just... Do you want to go to dinner sometime? As... more than friends."

There was a heavy silence in the air as she waited for a response.

They got off the counter wordlessly, grabbed her hand, and kissed her gently.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't back away. She melted into it, kissing them until she was out of breath. They didn't look tired.

It wasn't until she pulled away that she realized they were crying.

"Because they'll say yes."

There were several different emotions crossing his face, none of them good.

"And then they'll stop being Phoenix. And start being yours."

"... Phoenix-"

"-Dinner sounds great, mi amor."

They smiled, not able to meet her eyes.

"But first, I thought you wanted me to kiss you?"

They didn't wait for a response.

--------------------------------------

@the-one-and-only-043 @wyvchard angst for you :3

I'll probably do a part two with the date

If you want to start an RP with them getting ready (with even more angst) I'd be very happy

[fictionkinfessions]

(Only doing my Hitman ‘kins for now) For LGBT Canons:

Agent 47 : I believe I was a demiromantic asexual, but I didn’t do much questioning over my lifetime as far as I’m aware, the time between my contracts was not that long, nor was it uneventful. As for gender, I just didn’t desire to fall down that rabbit hole, it’d be a distraction that would affect my performance - something I needed to maintain as it was rather entertaining to watch the ICA scramble to stop myself and Diana from constructing insane eliminations that other agents and their handlers tried to mimic.

Lucas Grey : I spent most of my time within canon ignoring whatever I felt to pursue vengeance against Providence and the Partners, though I certainly made more progress on working out what I felt about my gender and sexuality than 47 did. Overall, I settled on being ambonec (though I’d often say agender for simplicity of understanding) and an androsexual panromantic. Polyamorous too, though anyone who knew me would know that just by my relationships.

Sean Rose : Masc-leaning bisexual demiboy. I had my relationship with Alma before I realised I much preferred men, though I do regret walking away from Mercedes, my daughter. She deserved to have a family, even if neither myself or Alma were good people. I did eventually find love elsewhere, but that was heavily delayed by the injuries I sustained in Colorado due to a certain assassin.

For Canon Clarifications:

Agent 47 : I knew from the very start of my time at ICA that Erich Soders was not truly loyal to the Agency, but it was not my business to point that out, nor did I know what he had done that made me believe that he was traitorous. Though, to most of the world, the ICA must look to be made solely of traitors from all sectors.

I also had a pet at my safe house. Not that it mattered much, since I wasn’t there for too long most of the time, but she was a mixed breed dog, certainly some Doberman in her. She was Lucas’ way of trying to ‘liven up’ the safe house since he lived there longterm. We called her Zephyrus, she had a tendency for stealing the rubber ducks (and if you know Hitman, you know those things are usually explosive).

Lucas Grey : I didn’t intend to kill Cobb at first. He was the best boss I’ll ever have, and my time at Milton-Fitzpatrick was a period of calm within my life. This is also how I met Marcus Stuyvesant, since the Milton-Fitzpatrick bank was under his company’s control - this also would have been the first thing that should have alerted me to the idea that Eugene Cobb was a Providence operative, but as in canon, I was unaware that Stuyvesant was one of the Partners until 47 regained his memory.

Sean Rose : No one talks about how difficult it was to gain respect at the base in Colorado (or how awkward it is to end up with a workplace crush). I knew people disliked that Grey had put me in charge of the Western Cell, but I didn’t feel much distaste for their opinions. Monsters serve a purpose in our war, Grey himself said that, so I remained in charge until I was injured too badly to continue. (Crest usurped power in Colorado the second myself and the other lieutenants were out of the picture).

Right, back to that workplace crush. No one warns you that even despite you telling yourself that a relationship, especially a serious one, is dangerous in this line of work, you always fall for someone. It was an annoyance, but also maybe a godsend. 47 wasn’t kind, it wasn’t in his nature at the time, but even he can see connection and have some pity. (And pity indeed it was.)

✉

[mildlybizarrecorvid]

The Lore of Hitman 2016

We start in 2016, Paris, France, a spy network called IAGO has stolen information of undercover MI6 operatives and has put it up for auction, using a fashion show as a cover, so MI6 has hired ICA, the international contracts agency, to kill the Dalia Margolis, the head of IAGO, and her husband, Viktor Novikov. Diana Burnwood, Agent 47’s handler picked up the contract. 47 takes both targets out, and then we see that before the fashion show a man bought information from Novikov.

Sapienza, The Ether Corporation, a biotech company has been developing a bio weapon, a disease that latches onto DNA, an anonymous whistleblower has hired ICA to take out two of the head scientists working on the virus, Silvio Caruso, and Francesca De Santis. One week later, in Johannesburg a man in walking to his car, talking about how whoever hired ICA had to have been in the lab, since barely anyone knew about the virus, and the same man in Paris robs him, IAGO Sold him the information about the virus. The man being robbed talks about something called Providence, before a key is stolen from him and he’s shot

Morocco, a Swedish man named Claus Hugo Strandberg has stolen millions from the Moroccan people and is hiding out in the Swedish embassy. General Reza Zaydan is going to use the protests as a reason to hold a coup and enforce martial law. A real estate company stands to lose millions if the government is overthrown, so they hired ICA to prevent the coup. After, we see two men, it’s revealed the failed coup was orchestrated by Providence, someone knows about Providence, and they’re under attack.

Bangkok, rising rockstar Jordan Cross murdered his girlfriend, Hannah Highmore, pushing her of the balcony of his apartment, but was found not guilty for the crime. The Highmore family hired ICA to take out Jordan and his lawyer Ken Morgan. After that we see 47 and Diana in an airport, it’s revealed that shortly after Cross’s death, his father was also killed, and billions of dollars of his were transferred to offshore accounts. MI6, Ether Corp, Morocco, everyone received their information The same way, an anonymous tip. Someone is playing the long game, a shadow client.

ICA thinks they know who the shadow client is, an eco terrorist named Sean Rose, so they kill him and the other leaders of his organization. But Rose wasn’t the shadow client, and we find out there’s a mole in ICA

Hokkaido, ICA board member Erich Soders is a member of ICA, and needs a heart transplant. He needs to be taken out since he’s a mole. After that the same man we saw after Morocco finds Diana on a train, they have the same enemy, Lucas Gray, the shadow client, so ICA become partners with Providence until they can find and kill Gray

I hadn't realized there was lore, interesting

[kenora-pizza]

Edward strikes out

Google translate edition

Here you go! Sorry it took so long.

Enjoy!

Eduardo, who stood up

Since Edward spends so much time on the tracks, Soder Locomotives is pleased to offer track maintenance services in Fat Bay. He knows everything, everyone does it. The next day Edward came on board. Some large tumors require removal. Gordon and Thomas were there. Tomasz was surprised. A new crane has arrived on the island. “You are so strong. I know Gordon can handle you.” Gordon thinks this is crazy and Thomas immediately leaves. "The valve is great, but I wouldn't buy another one if I didn't have a car." Edward looked at his hands. Gordon was right. "I wasn't very happy." "You look like Edward." He soon arrived in Persia. I also hope for a new China. "It doesn't help much." "He's coming." "Open a new tab. Gordon, he and I fight and fight." "Edward, is something wrong?" "Percy is still young. She is young and delicate." Edward's car is parked next to the new crane. "My name is Loki." "My name is Edward." “Can you come with me? Can you help me with this long pipe?” "I don't need your help anymore, idiot." The material was removed and dried. Edward walked up to the sign. Loki recalled in his mind. The screen immediately went black. Edward stopped the car, but the windshield was damaged. A metal pipe can be seen in the background. "My key is broken." I saw a large canal. I was wondering what I should do. “Rocky has a lot of energy.” said Thomas. "Open a new tab." He tells the sergeant to call Harvey. Harvey said with a smile. Harvey started using the hose, but he worked hard. Only 1v1. "Incredible." Thomas and Emily will arrive soon. He found his way. “Let's go. Why don't you stay with Rocky?” Hannah: "Hey, Harvey, calm down." "I'm a failure, I have to do something good." Then he heard Gordon's voice. I stood up immediately. Then there's the question. Gordon kicks him in the head. They got off the plane. I was frightened. "I've been looking for Gordon for a long time." “We need Edward Logie.” Gordon hit him hard. "Open a new tab." But Edward couldn't fix Harvey Gordon because he knew he was in trouble. There is only one there. "I met Loki." Run fast. Edward comes on board. "Loki, I need your help." "I'm sorry, Edward." So Edward takes Rocky to the store. "Sure," Edward said. Edward leads Rocky through the hills and valleys. Everyone was crying and laughing. Edward introduces the new recruits to Sodor. Edward meets Rocky. "I can fix it." Rocky uses heavy equipment to get Gordon out of the van. Gordon was stunned. “Thank you, Loki. Thank you!" Rocky lost all his cigarettes in the pub. The work was completed quickly. Gordon and Edward were stunned. "It's crazy to think you sent me. You may be young, but it matters." That's why everyone knew and respected Rocky.

[sir-burnt-cosplay]

What I've been working on - part 1

• > Part 2

I started making a Helldivers cosplay last month, kept it as a secret project cause I was unsure if I'd be able to finish it

I saved up for an elegoo 3D printer earlier this year and got really into Helldivers 2, so I thought why not make a new cosplay for Anime North 2024?

Initially wanted to try my hands at 3D modeling the whole thing, but there just wasn't enough time so I bought the print files from Galactic Armoury

This is my first time using a 3D printer, took me almost a month and multiple burnouts just to troubleshoot it and get it working properly for printing.

Even when it was working fine, I still got some messed up prints that I had to weld back together with a sodering iron.

Weather was cold and rainy in April so after I got the parts printed I had to wait for clear weather to sand and prime them.

I got impatient and thought it was sunny one day, went out to paint just to get rushed back inside because it started HAILING!

I honestly haven't considered just how much sanding printed parts needed until I started working on this, it's definitely a lot of work still even after the parts are printed.

This was the result after 3 weeks, armour painted, still need details and padding!

[nutongzhi]

i need all yer cream soder

[myth-blossom]

Maybe #13 for the 'only one bed' prompts?

"I can take the floor?" "No it's alright, besides it's big enough for the both of us."

Thank you for the ask, Spicy! 😊 I hope you enjoy! ❤️

///

“Did you say ‘one room’?”

“That’s correct.”

“Our reservation was for two connecting rooms…”

“I apologize, Mrs. Rieper, but according to our notes, you requested a single suite for tonight.”

Diana sighed internally. Soders, you bastard.

“Oh yes, I remember now,” she chuckled, accepting the keycard from the hotel clerk. “Thank you.”

47 watched her curiously as they took the elevator to the ninth floor. She wouldn’t lose her cool facade just yet, not until they were in the safety of their room. Sharing a bed with her agent was not part of the plan, and neither was the lack of a safehouse or three connecting flights instead of the direct flight she had initially booked for them. 

Diana knew her superiors weren’t pleased with her joining 47 in the field, but they had no other choice for this elusive target. 47 needed a cover to get him safely in and out of the only event the target was planning to attend in the next six months, and she was the only person he wanted for the job. Being the Agency’s best operatives, Diana was able to convince the board to see it her way, but she knew Soders was determined to make her pay for their special treatment. With nearly 11 hours before the mission left to sleep, she worried he was already successful. 

They entered their suite with its well-functioning air conditioning and unloaded their luggage. 47 quickly swept the room for bugs as Diana looked awkwardly at the plush bed looming nearby.

“I’m sorry, 47. This was not planned, I promise you.”

“Soders?” 

“I think so, yes.” She thought she saw his jaw clench, but perhaps she was imagining things. 

“I can take the floor?” he offered, loosening his tie.

“No, it’s quite alright,” she assured him. “Besides, it’s big enough for the both of us.”

They quickly settled in for the night, their travel woes weighing heavily on their shoulders as they neared the relief of sleep. 47 switched off the light and laid on his back as Diana faced the wall, both doing their best to keep a respectful distance so the other could rest easily. Unfortunately for Diana, she was unable to grant her body the sleep it craved.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked eventually, his voice breaking the still of the night.

“No,” she admitted. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, I can—“

“No, it’s not that. It’s the mission.”

“What about it?”

“There’s a lot riding on this, 47. Soders wants us to fail.” She sighed and clenched the blanket in her fist as the air conditioning switched on. “We can’t afford mistakes, and I fear I will make one and put your life at risk.”

“I see.” He paused and laid on his side facing her back. “Do you know why I asked for you?”

Diana kept silent.

“I trust you,” he said simply. “You won’t make a mistake.”

She turned over to face him in the darkness, shivering at the room’s chill as she settled. He reached out and gently rubbed her arm from over the covers for warmth. She smiled softly at the gesture.

“I…thank you, 47,” she murmured. “I won’t let you down.”

He continued to comfort her as they quickly drifted off to sleep, his arm coming to rest protectively over her waist.

“I know.”

[babehog]

FUUUUCK I regret not Buying a soder pop drink to go with my pizzer. I need a lemon drink so bad it would fucking complete me

[suzuki-sibs-bar-and-grill]

Day 12 cuz its 2 PM for me :3

hewo again.,.,, today I'm gonna pull up an all-nighter just to continue the VHS for Mari <3 I think It's almost done but I still need time And I'll probably make a yt account just to post the VHS there so I could link it here later after I'm done

But for now.. Still no words to describe how amazing and wonderful you are :D

[SUNNY gained A CAT BRACELET!]

Sunny, sincerely, from all my heart.. You're doomed. /lh If count me as my SOXIEDI Basil, You have 2 Basil's simping for you already. SOXIEDI, and another side blog I have. @ask-basil-omori

Just remember to let me know when it's done! I really want to see it! (Also if I haven't said it already i really like ur art style soder)

Better than a Rolex.