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neeeeeoposts · 4 months ago

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i know i keep ranting about fusionfall but DUDE ITS SUCH A COOL CONCEPT AND WHY THE FUCK WAS THE GAME CANCELLED I STILL WANNA PLAY IT😭😭😭

but if u didnt know, fusionfall is a game based around an alien invasion involving cartoon network characters of the 2000s or somewhere around that time frame (if i am correct tho, the academy storyline has characters from some 2010s shows?)

by the way, major spoilers for the game ahead

but what is interesting about that is the fact on who is participating in the game. because fusionfall is a story based around the concept of an alien planet invading earth, it causes a life threatening situation for the characters we are introduced to and basically placing them into a war

AND DO YOU KNOW WHO IS IN THAT WAR??? LITERAL CHILDREN. mostly. what i want to mean by that is when you play the game or at least watch playthroughs of it, there are not adults that you meet at first, the only few adults i can count is Prof. Utonium and Father but there's probably more. Instead when you first join, youre met with younger people (depending on whether youre playing on the future or academy version, it really doesnt matter because either way youre meeting someone younger than the age of 20 when you first boot up the game)

this is interesting to me because, once again, think about who's participating in the war against Fusion. its actual kids, like the KND is actually the main supplier or weapons and transport throughout the entire game, and there are literally so many more examples i could give but i wont

but thinking about it from their persepctive, its fucking terrifying. its a literal war theyre in right now, and half of the population of Townsville (or wherever the game takes place) is either dead or somewhere else because nobody is there but them. for all they know, kids could be thinking that their parents or friends died in the invasion, or vice versa.

also, these characters had to take on a huge role at such a younge age. another example, but in the game (for the future version) once you complete the first quarter of the game and are sent back to the past you have to choose a guide to help you advance in your story. for those who dont know, guides are characters that lead four different story lines rhat can be a potential way to help you defeat Fuse at rhe end. The four guides consist of Dexter, Ben 10, Mojo Jojo and Double D.

Out of the four, double d stands out the most since for one, ben 10 and mojo jojo are like superpowered or something cause they feel actually qualified to be leaders in a war. Dexter is like the main reason that FusionFall takes place so he also makes sense to be a guide. Double D however is most likely still 12 years old (or older), still a genius n inventor, but he's just a normal kid here. you could argue that Dexter is just a kid as well, but he has such advanced technology that basically cancels that out.

what im trying to get at here, double d is literally just an average child with nothing but extra braincells he stole from his friends and more resources than usual that made him a guide. at 12. and is participating in a war. just. idk its probably that its horrifying to be a war general at such a young age??

OH AND I DIDNT EVEN BRING THIS UP YET BUT FUSIONFALL SURE AS HELL AINT AFRAID TO LET CHARACTERS DIE

in one of the versions of fusionfall, maybe the academy version?? Buttercup is presumed dead after one of the ppg fights against mojo jojo and she is shot into the sea and disappeared for like a bunch of years. Blossom and bubbles obviously had no idea shes still alive, and spent almost everyday trying to search for her until they had to give up and accept her sisters presumed death and THEN get burdened with an alien invasion (buttercup does come back tho, sorry for spoilers)

and in the future version where your character is accidentially sent far into the future where youre able to see the devastating amount of destruction the invasion can bring, you meet a lot less characters than you do when you travel back to the past. the past part of the game probably has at least over 50 characters or less im not sure, but when youre in the future theres at least 10 characters left

now im not totally sure if every character died or not, but considering the change in environment from the future and past, its not that far off from a possibility. though, it could jist be a personal headcanon for me.

but if this were true, then the game just killed off like the majority of their cast, including the main ones like Dexter and left some behind, obviously so you know what to do in the game but like imagine it from one of the characters perspectives??

eduardo is the only imaginary friend we meet in the future, so he's all alone with none of his friends there

eddy's the only kid left from the cul-de-sac like dude what

numbuh 2 and 5 are probably the only KND members we meet

Ben is still there

basically, everyone left had to watch their family and friends die and thats a little idk dark maybe for a cartoon network game?? i mean just a little-

anywho i love fusionfall its a lovely concept and i really want to talk to people about it but NONE OF MY FROENDS KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT CARTOON NETWORK AND IM GETTING SAD OF TALKING TO MYSLEF

goodbye

#fusionfall #cartoon network #im gonna tag the referenced show in here #ummm okay #powerpuff girls #code name kids next door #ed edd n eddy #fosters home for imaginary friends #ben 10 #rant post #this is my hyperfixation #it took over my brain for like a week straight #it was so painful

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fandom-monium · 1 year ago

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Sweet Poison - Part 3

Summary: In which you don't paint in color and Zagreus asks why? “Contrary to popular belief, Elysium don’t take kindly to beings like me.”

WC: 1k

TW: Zagreus (Hades Video game) x Succubus!Reader, GN!Reader, a succubus AND an artist bc sex is just work and food, au where in game Zag commissions the paintings using gems, what if boons actually affected Zagreus, slow build, strangers to friends to lovers trope, sex work, fluff, fluff and humor, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild angst, pheromones, technically it’s succubi magic aura, Zagreus is at least 6 ft convince me otherwise, eventual smut

—

“So… why?”

“Hm?”

“Why black and white? Why not in color?” Without looking up, Zagreus thumbs through one of your old sketchbooks, the light framing his profile in a soft green. Pieces of parchment fall out and he fumbles. You shake your head with a smile, facing your easel once again.

You hate to admit it, but you think you made the right choice welcoming Zagreus into your life. His visits—brief as they are—quickly become a highlight of your day. He’s not around all the time, but when he does happen to stop by, you find the rest of the day to go by quicker, easier. Even work feels less exhausting.

It’s been a long time since you had a friend. Especially someone as easy to talk to as Zagreus. It’s… nice. He’s nice.

To think not too long ago, you tried to bring him to his knees and suck the soul out of him. You’re glad you didn’t. Mostly.

A small part of you would still love to see him on his knees, but you banish the thought as quickly as it came.

Touching Zagreus with even an ounce of your normal power feels sacrilegious. Not that it affected him before, which you still don’t understand. Still, you dampen your aura as a precaution, letting out enough so as not to strain yourself. For some reason it felt wrong to touch him in that way. He’s too good. Pure.

Ironic, considering the amount of times he’s entered your domain splattered in blood. And yet somehow, he still manages to bring you gifts between runs.

You’ve never known someone to be in possession of so much nectar. And he just hands it out freely? The demonic, selfish part of you can’t understand why. Perhaps he’s bored of the stuff. Common in his corner of the Underworld. The thought of this stuff just laying around makes you chuckle. In all seriousness, where he gets it, you suspect he’s got a supplier of some sort, probably in the deepest pits of Taratarus. The Tartarian and Asphodelish marketplaces sure don’t.

They don’t have a lot of things.

“It’s not that I can’t color. I just don’t have any,” You shrug, continuing to sharpen and blend shadows where you see fit. “Trust me. I’ve visited every market in Tartarus and Asphodel; art materials aren’t exactly high in demand.”

Zagreus looks up from your sketchbook, parchment sheets filled to the brim with charcoal and lead. “And Elysium? There’s a grand market by the arena, you know.” He’s not trying to be condescending—you know—but a dull ache forms at the back of your skull, a sour squirm rising in your chest at his ignorance. His naivety.

“And you truly believe they’d serve me?” You scoff.

“Why not?”

You raise an eyebrow, and he meets your gaze, unwavering, like he can’t see the horns, wings, and tail. He is so used to your presence, they no longer register.

That makes you no less a demon. A succubus.

You shake your head, “Contrary to popular belief, Elysium don’t take kindly to beings like me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

You give him a tightlipped smile as his brow furrows, visibly crestfallen. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head, Zagreus. It is what it is.” Turning back to the canvas, you swirl your brush and mix different gray tones on your palette. Oh, why is getting the right shade so difficult?

Sensing the shift in your mood, Zagreus glances down, flipping through your old sketches, all black and white and shades of gray. “But if you had the materials, would you? Draw and paint in color?”

You don’t even have to think, your eyes focused on a particular corner of the painting. “Yes.”

A moment later, stone rumbles and you look up in time to see his footprints cool off. The sketchbook has returned to its rightful place, wedged between the leather-bound novels and trinkets in your bookcase.

Two runs later, Zagreus barges in, gasping for breath like he raced over as soon as he could. There’s burns on his arms, blood sprayed across his face, a gaping wound on his thigh as if he’d been stabbed, but none of that matters—not to him at least—as he holds out a box held with twine to you, his teeth bared in an eager smile.

And when he slaps down a handful of colorful gems for a commission, your cheeks grow sore, unable to stop smiling back.

—

AN: Succubi!Reader tried to buy colored paint once and it unfortunately did not turn out as they hoped 😔 Good thing Zagreus got the hook up 😌🫰✨️

#zagreus x reader #zagreus (hades video game) x reader #zagreus & reader #zagreus (hades video game) & reader #hades supergiant #hades video game

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maria021015 · 14 days ago

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Mourning: Mourning is the expression of an experience that is the consequence of an event in life involving loss, causing grief. It typically occurs as a result of someone's death, often (but not always) someone who was loved, although loss from death is not exclusively the cause of all experiences of grief.

In many ways, season 3 of Teen Wolf (and this fic) saw the characters experience the consequences of actions that were both their own and out of their control. They each experienced personal loss and great transformation which largely occurred off-screen before season 4. We see the results of this in later seasons, but the changes themselves were not nearly as developed as they should have been. This fic aims to rectify that.

In this chapter, you will read about grief in different forms, and the grieving of many things: loss of life, connection and family. Loss of innocence and self. Loss of control. Grief is the centre of the next leg of our characters' journeys, and it is this journey with grief that will lead to change. Themes of guilt, autonomy, power, and control will be explored through Zaida, and the events of Season 3 will more greatly impact the storyline moving into season 4. Alternatively, we will also explore themes of forgiveness, acceptance, and togetherness and shine a light on those special moments between the characters that become all too rare as the show goes on. I hope you enjoy the subtle changes and added layers these elements bring to the overarching story.

Deaton paused in surprise at the sight of Zaida standing in the doorway to the back room of the clinic, looking pale and drawn. Dark circles framed her hollow eyes, her usually vibrant features washed out, devoid of any make-up. Her steps were slow, almost hesitant, as she moved into the space, her desperation palpable. She’d managed to sneak out of the apartment before Lydia had woken up, not wanting her - or any of the others - to know about her venture to the West Hills of town.

The veterinarian’s calm demeanour was a stark contrast to her turmoil. He looked up from the metal desk before him, his eyes softening with understanding. "Zaida," he greeted gently.

“The others…Did they tell you what happened?” Her voice was low and hoarse with a haunted tone as she vaguely referred to the events that had transpired at Oak Creek.

“Yes, I did hear about that,” Deaton nodded, but there was no judgment in his voice. He knew what she was there for. The man sighed as he reached for a box on one of the shelves, moving it to the workspace in front of him. "I had a feeling this might happen. The Nogitsune unlocked something in you - a deeper level of power that you were not ready for.”

Zaida's shoulders sagged with relief as she saw the familiar herbs in the cardboard box. She crossed the room quickly, and there was a hunger in her eyes that Deaton did not miss. Before she could reach over the bench, he stopped her. "Artikas can help to subdue your powers temporarily, but I must caution you. Relying on it isn't a long-term solution.” He reminded her sternly. “You will need to relearn everything, Zaida. But…this can help you manage it in the meantime, just until you find control."

She nodded eagerly, forcing herself to wait as her powers buzzed beneath the surface of her skin, waiting to be released. Zaida watched intently as he began to prepare a mixture, crushing a stem of the plant with a mortar and pestle before adding the dust to a golden solution. As he worked, her keen eyes caught the name of the supplier on the box of fennel, committing it to memory. Her fingers tapped on the tabletop, jittering with agitation and struggling to quieten the emotions rushing through her mind. Deaton's movements were precise and methodical. He used a syringe to carefully insert the liquid into gel capsule moulds.

Once they were set, Zaida took the tablet he offered, her fingers trembling. She hesitated for only a moment, remembering the sounds of her own screams as she endured that blistering pain in that sweltering basement. Pushing the memories away, she placed it on her tongue and forcefully swallowed. As it landed among the acid of her stomach and the gell capsule dissolved, a burning sensation spread through her, making her gasp, but almost instantly, she felt a shift. The chaotic noise in her mind quieted, her powers subdued. A sense of relaxation washed over her, and she exhaled a shaky breath.

"It's working," She whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and relief. "I can feel it."

Deaton watched her carefully, his expression a blend of concern and curiosity. "Use it sparingly," He advised, pouring the rest of the tablets into a container and handing it to her. "And remember, it’s not a permanent solution.”

Zaida nodded in a slightly dismissive manner, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Deaton," She said softly, revelling in the silence in her head.

As she left the clinic, the tablet still burning in her stomach, she couldn't help but feel a surge of peace. She had a long road ahead - they all did - but for the first time since she was taken from the hospital she felt like she might be able to walk it. For the first time in what felt like forever, she knew the emotions running through her body were hers and hers alone.

Zaida’s body surged with heat, her stomach lining blistering as fought to hide her internal pain. At this point, she’d learned to accommodate it. With winter approaching, everyone else surrounding her was wrapped in thick cardigans or coats, braving the gloomy weather to stand around the sleek black casket. Chris had kept it a private affair - no hunters, and no family left to join them in their grieving. The overcast sky had joined them in their mourning instead. Chris Argent stood with a stoic expression by the casket, his face a mask of controlled grief as he watched his daughter being lowered into the ground.

“How is he so…okay?” Zaida whispered, her own face wet with tears and her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from days of crying.

Scott glanced at Chris, then back at Zaida. "It's how hunters are trained," He explained softly. "They compartmentalize their grief and move forward. It’s the only way they can keep going."

Zaida fell silent as her mind drifted to something Allison had once said to her. Suppressing your emotions like that works for a bit, until it just doesn’t cut it anymore. The memory sent a shiver up her spine, like ghostly fingers dancing their way towards the nape of her neck where they lingered. Her heart went out to Chris. She knew what it was like to lose family, but losing a child would be a whole different kind of agony. A parent should never have to bury their child. She recalled the way Boyd’s mother had wailed at his funeral, and though Allison’s memorial was a lot quieter, the loos felt heavier. The weight of her own grief was almost unbearable, and not for the first time she thanked the container of pills in her pocket that she was not also feeling everyone else’s sorrow.

Her thoughts took a different turn to Xander and the relief that he was still alive. If he were gone as well…just imagining it left her breathless, and her heart broke all over again for Chris, who had lost everyone. When it came time for the eulogy, the man approached the small podium. He stared at a single sheet of paper before him before shaking his head and taking a step back with vacant eyes.

"I can't," His hoarse voice was barely audible until he repeated himself in a stronger tone. "I can't do it."

Scott didn’t hesitate to step forward and take the man’s place at the podium, looking back at them all and trying to find the right words to express everything Allison Argent meant to him. His lips parted and then shut several times before he opened his heart and allowed his feelings to flow freely. Where better to start than the beginning? "From the moment I met her, I knew Allison was special. She had this way of lighting up every room she walked into. She was one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. She did everything she could to protect the people she cared about,” Scott’s voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes glistening with tears. "She fought for all of us, even when it seemed hopeless and impossible. She never gave up."

He paused, taking a deep breath, his eyes scanning the sympathetic faces of those gathered. Even Noah and Derek hung their heads sombrely, listening intently to what he had to say. Forcing himself to keep going - for her sake - Scott continued. "Allison taught me what it means to be strong, to stand up for what’s right, even when it’s hard. Her heart was so big, and she gave so much of herself to others."

Scott’s voice cracked slightly, but he pressed on. "I remember the first time she told me she loved me. It was like the world stopped, and nothing else mattered. She had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person on the planet. And that’s who Allison was. She made everyone feel important, valued, loved."

He looked over at Chris who was staring at him with grateful eyes, and his heart ached for the man who had lost his daughter. "That's Allison’s legacy. It’s the lives she affected, the love she gave, and the courage she inspired in all of us. We’re better because we knew her...because we loved her." Scott stepped back, tears streaming down his face as his voice finally failed him. The weight of his beautiful words hung heavy in the silence that fell over them. Zaida found herself twisting the rings around her fingers, replaying the sight of Allison's ashen face and her blood-stained lips.

“Allison was always there when you needed her,” The sound of Isaac’s voice surprised them from his place beside Lydia. All of their eyes shifted to him, and he cleared his throat nervously. “She was always ready to help, to fight, to stand by your side. She had this quiet strength that never let you feel alone. And she had a hell of a way with a knife…”

A soft chuckle floated over the group at that statement. Many of them had been on the opposite end of Allison's blade, and it certainly was not a place anyone would want to be. Lydia found herself smiling at the memories that played behind her eyes, encouraged by Isaac’s sentiments. Her face was pale and her makeup was smudged from crying. "Allison was our best friend," She said, her voice breaking as she flashed Zaida a rueful smile. It only twisted guilt's knife deeper into the naiad's stomach. "I never had sisters, but Allison was one of the people that gave me that. We shared everything, our dreams, our fears, our hopes. It all seemed a little more possible with her around. She taught me things I’ll carry with me forever.”

"I didn’t know Allison the way you all did,” Kira seemed almost apprehensive to speak, cautious of intruding upon something that she wasn’t quite part of. Yet she also felt like she needed to show her support. “But I do know that she never backed down, never gave up. She was someone we could all look up to."

“She was someone we did look up to,” Stiles confirmed with a sniffle, and there was something tranquil and comforting that speaking about Allison brought to them all. Well, all of them except Zaida, who suddenly felt as though she was going to throw up all over the toes of her boots. “At the start, I only knew Allison through Scott, but it was impossible not to become friends with her. We’ve all had our ups and downs, but in the end, she always came through for us.”

When it became quiet once more, it took Zaida looking up from her fidgeting hands to see everyone's eyes turned to her expectantly for her to realise they were waiting for her to speak. Her breath immediately caught in her throat. There were a hundred things she could say. Allison was everything - brave, kind, loving, accepting. She believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. She made me want to do better, be stronger. The only thing that managed to leave her lips was a choked noise as guilt turned her stomach upside down. Her trembling hands rose to wipe tears from her eyes as they fell. "I..." She began, but her voice immediately broke. "I'm so sorry," She whispered, her shoulders shaking with sobs. It was suddenly all she was able to muster. I’m sorry. Over and over again like a chant in her head.

Stiles was by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her and guiding her face into his chest. She clung to him and her tears soaked through his shirt, her guilt and sorrow pouring out in a torrent. Stiles held her tightly, his own eyes filled with unshed tears. They all longed for a day when the wound of Allison’s loss wouldn’t feel so fresh and raw.

After the funeral - their second this week, after Aiden’s - Zaida just wanted to be alone. Stiles had dropped her off at the apartment, the weight of the day's sorrow pressing down on her. Her room was dimly lit, the air conditioning humming softly, its cold breeze a stark contrast to the warmth she felt on her skin. She paced around, her mind racing, until an irregular tapping at the window broke her thoughts. Moving to the window, she opened it to find Isaac standing on the fire escape below.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned him, stepping back to allow him to climb into her room. She quickly moved to hide the fennel tablets she had been using, pushing them into her bedside drawer before he could see them.

“It’s freezing in here,” He frowned, feet dropping to the carpeted floor.

Zaida managed a small smile. "Yeah, the air conditioning's been acting up."

Isaac raised an eyebrow, taking in her appearance. She hadn’t changed since the funeral and was still dressed in light clothing, but she seemed unusually warm, almost feverish. "Are you okay?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," She replied quickly, brushing off his worry. "Why are you here, Isaac?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm leaving, Zaida."

“But you just got here…” She trailed off in confusion, not understanding him.

“No, Zay, I’m leaving Beacon Hills,” The werewolf clarified in a low tone, moving to take a seat on the end of her bed.

"What? Why?" Zaida’s heart skipped a beat.

"I've lost too much here," He explained, his voice heavy with grief. "My mom and brother, my dad, Erica and Boyd, and now Allison. I can't stay here anymore. I need a fresh start, somewhere new."

"But what about us? What about Scott, Lydia, and everyone else? We need you, Isaac." Zaida's eyes welled as her emotions prickled to the surface once more.

Isaac shook his head. "I can't keep losing people. Who's gonna be next? Scott? You?" His voice cracked, and he looked away, trying to compose himself. "Chris is setting me up with a new life in France. He thinks it's best for us both to get away for a while. And I'm taking the Triskele box with me, to protect it."

Zaida's heart ached, but she understood his reasoning and her defiance backed down. "France, huh?" She said softly, trying to keep her voice steady as she dropped onto the mattress next to him. "Allison loved it there. Sounds like a good place for a fresh start."

Isaac nodded. "Yeah. I hope so."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their impending separation hanging heavily in the air. Finally, Isaac hung an arm around Zaida’s shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'll miss you, you know?" He whispered. “You’ll always be my first girlfriend.”

"I don’t think we ever actually got that far," She replied with a soft smile, leaning her head on his shoulder as her voice broke. "But I’ll miss you too. Promise we'll see each other again someday?"

"I promise," He agreed, getting to his feet and pausing to look at her as though committing the sight to memory. "Take care of yourself, Zaida."

"You too, Isaac." Her lips pulled into a taught smile, and with one last lingering look, Isaac turned and climbed back out of the window he’d entered through.

Zaida was restless, her fingers twisting rings around her fingers over and over and over again. Dim light filtered through the stained-glass windows arching high in the walls surrounding her, casting colourful, fragmented patterns on the scuffed wooden floor.

Disoriented, she looked around at the paintings of saints adorning the walls and ceiling high above the ornate altar. The scent of incense filled her nostrils, and though the smell was familiar, something about it all felt strange.

“You okay?” The boy beside her broke her reverie, and she glanced up at Stiles in the pew beside her to see him frown in concern. Instead of grounding her, the sight of him was out of place here, in the church where her family had spent countless Easters - and where her parents’ funeral had been held.

She blinked, trying to process his words through the haze of lingering confusion. "What are you doing here?" The question felt strange on her tongue, as if it were a remnant of another reality. The last time she’d been here she’d been sat between her grandparents as they listened to the funeral hymns being chanted.

“Zay, are you feeling alright?” Stiles gave her a puzzled look, his brows knitting together.

Before she could answer, the sound of shuffling caught her attention. She turned towards it and saw the church was filled with people - some she knew immediately, others were distant memories from her past. They all stood, their faces solemn, eyes fixed on the double doors at the entrance to the church as a casket was carried in. Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Scott, Isaac, and Ethan bore the weight of the casket, their expressions etched with grief. A chill rushed down her spine and as she hurried to tug the sleeves of her dress over her frozen hands, she saw herself sheathed head to toe in black. Looking up with a jolt, she realised everyone else was covered in it too. A sea of mourning.

"Stiles, what is this?" She asked him, her voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “Why are we here?”

He hesitated, his questioning eyes burdened with sorrow. "...I thought you wanted Xander's funeral to be here?"

A rush of white noise filled her ears, drowning out the world. Xander’s funeral? No, no this couldn’t be Xander’s funeral because that would have to mean…Panic surged through her veins as the casket was placed on a table at the front of the church before them all. Zaida found herself driven towards it with stumbling feet, desperation in every step. Pushing past the Sheriff, she reached out towards it. The moment her hand touched the polished wood, a barrage of images assaulted her mind - photographs of Xander's mutilated body, memories of the bomb she helped make, the plan she helped conjure. As the world tilted around her the ground rushed to meet her knees, leaving her looking out at all of the faces staring back at her. Her body shook with sobs, her vision blurred by tears. Their faces twisted with anger and disgust, eyes filled with silent condemnation. They shook their heads, their judgment like daggers to her heart. Desperately, she looked for Stiles, seeking solace, seeking forgiveness. But he stepped back - away from her - his face cold and distant, his eyes hard.

"You did this, Zaida." He said, his voice devoid of warmth, each word a blow. "It's all your fault."

A deafening bang echoed off the church’s walls, filling the cavernous space as the top of the casket blew off. Zaida turned, horrified, as the velvet-lined wood clattered to the floor. Inside the coffin, Xander sat up. His body was a grotesque vision of blood and burns, his police uniform torn and charred with a gaping hole of missing flesh where the beam had impaled him. When his head turned to land on her his eyes were filled with an agony that mirrored her own.

"Why?" Her brother asked her, his voice a raw whisper that cut through her soul. "Why did you do this to me?"

“No, I…” Zaida exclaimed, her breathing becoming ragged as Xander reached a hand out towards her, stretching fingers seeking out her flesh. Wood creaked as the coffin shifted unsteadily beneath Xander’s shifting weight.

‘I didn’t’ was what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie.

A scream tore through her throat as she instinctively tried to scramble backwards while the coffin tipped off the table, flipping over. The last thing she saw was Xander’s face rushing towards her as the coffin fell, enclosing her inside with him in engulfing darkness.

She was still screaming when the thick cloud of black around her was illuminated by a warm glow. Hands still reached for her, searching for revenge. Zaida kicked and screamed against the blistered skin that clamped over her own until a voice by her ear - a voice that was not Xander’s - whispered that she was okay.

“It’s alright, it’s not real. It’s just a dream,” Stiles comforted her, his breath hot against her neck. Tearing herself out of the boy’s arms she shot upwards into a seated position, tugging the quilted blanket up to cover herself.

“Stiles? What the hell are you doing here?!” Zaida cried out, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

“I thought you needed someone to wake you up,” Stiles ran a hand through his unruly hair, which was flatter than usual, as he leaned back against the headboard. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, no shit! I’m asking what you’re doing here, in my apartment?” The brunette shook her head, smoothing tangled locks of hair behind her ears with shaking hands.

“Oh,” He blinked at her awkwardly, realising that waking up to him in her room was likely startling - particularly when it was unexplained. “Right. Uh, I felt it…Your nightmare. I…I don’t know how, but I knew it was you.”

“Shit,” Zaida cursed, rubbing temples to ease the oncoming stress headache as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded across the carpeted floor. She didn’t bother turning on the bathroom light - she didn’t need to see to know exactly where she left her little bottle of pills.

“Your powers are stronger, aren’t they? You’re starting to do things you couldn’t do before…” Stiles trailed off before the name could slip his lips, but it didn’t matter. They both knew who he meant, and it cast a frozen blanket over them both. Her eyes fell on the reflection of the boy in the mirror where he was still sitting on her bed, knees drawn into his chest as he played with the fabric of his flannel pants. “Doesn’t that mean you should be training more?”

“I’ve got it under control,” Zaida promised, her fingers closing over plastic and twisting. With a small shake, three golden tablets fell into her cupped palm.

“...Are you sure?” Stiles questioned her, concern echoing in his tone as he very obviously referred to the events of the night. Projecting her emotions into him unintentionally was one thing, but doing it over the span of a few tens of miles away while unconscious? That was considerably more worrisome.

Sucking in a deep breath, Zaida stared at the capsules in her hand. Instead of putting two back she tipped them all into her mouth and turned on the water, tilting her open mouth under the running stream. With a hard swallow, she shut off the tap and wiped her dripping chin, squeezing her eyes shut against the fire that crackled through her. “Yeah, I’m sure,” She insisted in a quiet voice, fingers curling to grip either side of the sink as she gritted her teeth.

She waited for the wave of onslaught to mellow - for her body to grow accustomed to it once more. When her breathing was under control, she looked back up at the mirror. Looking past her pale and sweaty complexion, her eyes landed on Stiles once more. He had picked up the copy of ‘Crime and Punishment’ from her bedside table and was scanning through the pages. At the sight of him, a new query entered her mind, tension coiling in the pit of her stomach.

“Hey, Stiles?” She redirected his attention to her with a low hum, looking up from the book with raised eyebrows. “How’d you get inside?”

“Oh, uh, I had a key made,” He answered nonchalantly and her fear that this was just another dream gave way to relief, bringing a faint smile to her lips.

“Of course you did,” Zaida shook her head, slipping the pill bottle back into her hiding place beneath the rolled-up face towels on the bench.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles x oc #stiles stilinski #stiles #teenwolf fanfiction #female oc #female original character #teenwolf

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udhhyog2 · 1 month ago

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Buy MS Seamless Pipe from Leading Manufacturers in Delhi

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christiangrest · 6 months ago

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CZ Pistols Multiply

Recently I talked about a new CZ Pistol that I picked up from Brownells, the CZ shadow 2 Compact. With a few hundred rounds down range of a variety of ammunition… both Federal 115gr and S&B 124gr, I’ve been quite impressed with one of CZ’s top of the heap offering. CZ has long been a company with a strong following from firearm enthusiasts and finally I could say that I’m starting to see what all of the fuss is all about. So what about CZ’s more budget friendly options? The P10 series has been around for quite a few years and folks really seem to like those. The P10 series is a polymer framed striker fire pistol that’s priced a decent amount below the comparable Glock offerings. When I got to looking at an additional CZ pistol, of course just a bare bones CZ-75 was an option, but that’s basically a blank slate for the CZ Shadow series. CZ does offer polymer framed SA/DA pistols, both the P-07 and P-09. So which one would be my next CZ pistol acquisition?

Enter the CZ P-07. The CZ P-07 is a compact sized polymer framed SA/DA pistol with a de-cocker or a safety that can be configured. The P-07 pistol is comparable in size to the CZ Shadow 2 compact and a Glock 19. Price wise it comes in $100 or so less than a Glock 19 depending upon the deal you find. IUt comes with 2 15 round magazines. Unfortunately those magazines aren’t compatible with the CZ Shadow 2 compact as far as I can tell. The CZ P-07 also isn’t cut for an optic which is kind of a bummer as I believe that all pistols manufactured today should come optics ready. It can of course be milled for an optic, but I’m planning on running it as is. The sights are a common fixed metal 3 dot sight system with a small trick…the dots are luminescent meaning they glow at night. These are not night sights, but give you some dot glow in low light. I’ll most likely swap them out at some point for a proper set of night sights, but these will do. The pistol also ships with a 9MM dummy cartridge for dry fire practice as well as 3 different grip back straps. CZ has put a lot of value into this pistol. The DA trigger pull is quite heavy, off my scale at probably in the 12lb range and the SA trigger pull is right at a consistent 5lb. A spring swap can make a difference here and I’ve already ordered a new spring set.

So what do I think of this pistol so far? 100 rounds down range just the other day and it’s a really nice pistol for the money. It- doesn’t shoot quite as good as the CZ Shadow 2 Compact, but for a duty or EDC pistol, this one would fit into that role very nicely. I plan on spending much more time with this pistol and will probably throw it into my carry rotation at some point. If you’re on the fence like I was about picking up a CZ pistol, just do it! Head over to Brownells as they typically have a decent collection of CZ pistols.

#brownells #brownellsinc #bureauofpropaganda #CZ #CZlife #CZ P07

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angelsdean · 2 years ago

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The other thing about Sam's bloodfreak era that I don't see discussed very often is that even with the demon blood, it doesn't seem like his powers were innate and in fact were specifically tied to Azazel, because he doesn't actually seem to have any powers in season 3 at all after Azazel dies (no prophetic dreams, no telekinesis, etc) beyond maybe being immune to some of Lilith's stuff in the finale (which, given what we now know her endgame plan was, could have been a ruse anyway). Not only does he not have powers until he starts actively consuming demon blood as an adult, the powers he gains FROM the demon blood are different from the ones he got from Azazel, and he never really seems to exhibit those original powers again after season 2. I think the implication that Sam's powers were never innate to him even with the demon blood and were more like the boon from a warlock pact w/Azazel is something that gets wildly overlooked when discussing the demon blood arc and how the brothers both handle it.

oh yea definitely !!! i like vaguely remembered something abt how his powers seem to disappear completely after azazel dies (either from a discord discussion or another post) and i was gonna mention it in my post but s3 is a bit hazy in my mind rn so i wasn't completely sure abt that. but yea his powers just are not innate in any reading of the text. they're clearly presented as a result of the demon blood (first from azazel dosing him and the other special children as babies, and then from ruby in s4). there's nothing inherently monstrous abt sam !!! thee only thing sam has that sets him apart from the other special children is the lucifer bloodline and even that doesn't make him evil or bad it's just that genetically he's more likely to be able to hold an archangel, same as dean and adam w/ michael ? being the lucifer vessel doesn't give him any special powers or make him more monstrous than anyone else. yet so many discussions of sam's "bloodfreak" era and the special children psychic powers arc seem to focus on these things being innate powers that set sam apart and make him monstrous and Different when the narrative itself shows that those powers and abilities stem from substances being introduced into sam and esp all the stuff w/ ruby is framed as a metaphor for addiction and ruby being his supplier / enabler. imo sam projects a lot of his fears of being innately bad or impure onto others and from his POV he thinks he IS a monster and inherently bad. while from outside perspectives like dean and bobby and cas they see him as struggling with an addiction and making choices that are leading him down a dangerous path so of course they're going to try to stop that but sam sees it as an attack and rejection of who he is because once again he believes he's monstrous and that there's something inherently wrong with him but that's not the case.

anyways, i'm def gonna keep an eye out for the differences between azazel's powers and his powers from the regular demon blood on this rewatch bc i'm fascinated by the idea that they're completely different things and that sam's psychic powers died w/ azazel bc he and the special children were drawing on azazel's own powers or something.

#replies #sam studies #mymeta

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fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction · 11 months ago

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Descend into the Heart of Madness

Vanessa, Gregory, and Glamrock Freddy head down below Roxy Race way together. They don't come back the same.

Time Frame: Burntrap Ending Security Breach Arc, SB Trio POV

Companion to Trade Tomorrow for Today

-------

Vanessa flicked her flashlight over the dilapidated elevator, mouth twisting to the side as the sight left her decidedly unimpressed. Glamrock Freddy stood beside her, ears bent in that way that helped him express concern while Gregory carefully examined the rusted metal control panel nearby. In the wake of their travel together, twisted metal and popped open gates lay scattered over filthy ground, piles of trash and industrial garbage heaped in place to act as makeshift walls to block the way forward.

“Well, this looks an OSHA payday if I ever saw one,” she muttered dryly and pulled her manual from her back pocket again. -She’d been doing this so often this whole night, her only comfort from everything that had been happening that had turned her world inside out and upside down and filled it with horrors.- “What’s corporate policy for dealing with this? Doubt we have enough bleach in stock to clean this mess up.”

“So, everything that’s been happening in the Pizzaplex is because of something that’s way down there?” Gregory suddenly asked, looking over at Freddy first before glancing at Vanessa, “Something that’s doing weird crap other than sucking the power out of this place?”

“The records we were able to collect all indicate the source of the power drain is located beneath Roxy Raceway,” Freddy confirmed with a nod, his voice still scratchy from the swap of his voice box with Chica’s. He gestured at the elevator, “This is one of the service elevators that descends beyond the known boundaries of the Pizzaplex. However, based on the condition of it, I do not think it will survive a return trip.”

Vanessa swallowed at his words, biting her lip as she slipped the manual away. “You’re saying… we go down this thing, we might never get back to the surface?” she asked, voice cracking a little as she gave it another sweep with her flashlight.

“Do we have time to find another one? A safer one?” Gregory asked her in return, wariness in his tone conflicting with the expression of fear and resignation in his eyes. Vanessa lifted her wrist, twisting it to check the face of her watch. The Pizzaplex officially opened to the public at 8 AM, it opened to staff and suppliers at 6 AM. With all the activity going on since the doors opened -don’t think about almost losing herself, don’t think about watching Sydney fall under whatever malevolence made itself present in the building, don’t think about the crowd of people that rushed in and immediately took to fighting the S.T.A.F.F. and animatronics with signs of experience in doing so, don’t think about the woman in the rabbit suit asking her to join her in ‘having fun’- she had lost all track of time.

7:25 AM.

“We’ve got about half an hour before general public starts showing up,” she finally answered numbly, weight settling on her shoulders and heart racing as she cast her thoughts ahead to what could happen if innocent people walked in on the nightmare taking place up above. “They walk into the place before we get network control and power back, it’s going to turn into a blood bath.”

And Sydney would be there among the remaining functional S.T.A.F.F. bots, leading the way in slaughtering those people in the name of Fazbear Entertainment for whatever schemes needed fresh souls. Her best friend….

“So we don’t have a choice but to use this one,” Gregory sighed, pulling out his own flashlight that Vanessa glanced over quickly. He shone the light out at the rest of the sub-foundation level, searching for something only he could think to look for. Movement? Aid? “Fuck my life, I guess.”

“Language,” Freddy told him in exasperation and Vanessa felt her mouth twitch into a small smile. Gregory only gave him a flat glare without any heat to it before pressing the call button to open the elevator doors. The three of them stood together in silence, tense, until the doors slid open to reveal the elevator itself, a ramshackle looking thing that didn’t inspire much trust in its security.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Vanessa murmured, shivering from a sudden chill running up her spine. So much could go wrong, and once they were down there…. What if they never saw the outside world again? She grabbed her walkie-talkie, pressed the contact on it and raised it to her mouth, “Sydney? You out there? Can you still hear me? Over.”

No response. He’d stopped responding to her, to anyone, once they were given orders to find and contain Gregory. Network control. Her own implant had been disabled by whatever Gregory had done to the system trying to trap her consciousness. Before that, she’d almost been like him, following horrible orders and likely screaming in her own head, trying to fight her own body betraying her.

“No help from your boyfriend, huh?” Gregory quipped dryly and Vanessa shot him a glare as the boy stepped into the elevator, Freddy following him with careful steps.

“Not boyfriend, best friend,” she corrected and hurried in with them. Loophole in the manual, she had to keep carrying it out. Keep people out of restricted areas; if a guest requires assistance leaving the Pizzaplex, escort until they do. In case of emergency, follow the guideline that minimizes a paper trail. Gregory wanted to leave the Pizzaplex, but refused to go out the main doors until he finished his little self-assigned mission, so Vanessa would help him until he was satisfied and willing to leave. Technically, this place couldn’t be considered restricted if it wasn’t on the official paperwork to be labeled as ‘restricted’, and an evidence trail was different from a paper trail if he spoke to cops about what he saw.

The elevator jerked, making them all freeze in sudden alarm, and then began descending, the usual music now a distorted mess of fluctuating speed and notes. Vanessa flicked her light up to the speaker, wondering if smacking it with the flashlight would count as a strike against her since the elevator wasn’t part of the official property.

“You didn’t have to come, y’know,” Gregory suddenly said, his hands clutching the flashlight he’d clearly stolen. Vanessa gave it another quick look over, zeroing in on the bird sticker plastered near the butt of the device. “You have people looking out for you, like that big guy. The Not-Boyfriend.”

“Best friend,” Vanessa corrected again and pointed at the flashlight, “And that’s his. Where’d you find it?” Gregory gave her an odd look and she shook her head, “Never mind. And I already told you, as a security guard for Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex it is my responsibility to make sure our guests have a safe and fantasy-filled time, which also includes escorting them out of the building when they want to leave.” She shifted in place in discomfort, glancing around at the flickering light of the elevator. “You want out, so I’m helping until we can get you out.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a massive tunnel leading out and away from the shaft. Twin beams of light roved over the walls of rubble and construction debris from their flashlights as guard and boy carefully stepped out of the elevator that now shuddered and went dead behind them.

“And if you’re right,” Vanessa continued in a softer tone, fearful gaze lifting to the shadows high above that blocked all view of the rest of the world, “then dealing with whatever’s down here will save Sydney too. You broke the system that was trying to get in my head. Maybe the system controlling him is down here too?”

The path was littered with construction lights, gas generators, and bright red canisters emptied of fuel. Now and then some forgotten tools and other equipment would be seen, along with what looked like dried blood spatters. Vanessa swallowed hard at the sight. Other people had been down here to clear the way, obviously, but she hadn’t considered until now what happened to those people. They had to have been silenced, otherwise she would have known about this place a lot sooner.

Did Sydney know? Was he ordered to do the silencing?

“God… what did management make you do?” she murmured and jumped with a small shriek at a sudden hiss of steam from a pipe nearby. Gregory shushed her, eyes wide with alarm. The three of them held still, listening, but the only other sounds were the plinks of pebbles and dust occasionally falling from above and striking rubble and the generators running. “Have you been turning those on?” Vanessa asked the boy.

“Yeah?” Gregory returned with a shrug, “They’re connecting to something up ahead, and it’s better to just turn them on now and see what happens than find out we needed them on when we get there and then have to come all the way back here to do it.”

“That’s dumb and lazy,” Vanessa told him flatly, folding her arms over her chest, “What if you end up powering a death machine?” Gregory waved his hands around to show off their surroundings.

“Who builds a death machine in a dump like this and hooks it up to gas generators?!” he exclaimed incredulously, “If there’s anything messed up in here that could cause death or whatever, it’s already getting power from the Pizzaplex! It won’t get anything from generators that aren’t hooked up to the power grid!”

“The logic is sound,” Freddy agreed, ears wiggling to show amusement. Vanessa looked between them and sighed. Well, at least they helped her keep her thoughts off what was happening up above.

Horrified was only the tip of the iceberg of emotions swirling in Vanessa’s head as she gazed up at the sign in lights, the boy and animatronic beside her also staring up at it in confusion.

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place.

A pizzeria? Down here? How many feet below ground was this? How did a whole building end up down here in such weirdly good condition? Did corporate know about this?

Was the Pizzaplex built above it intentionally?

“Is this where we’re supposed to go?” Gregory asked aloud, then sighed harshly, “Hey, Knife Lady! Wake up!” Vanessa shot him a look, one eyebrow raised, and quickly raised her flashlight, brandishing it like a weapon, when a plume of black smoke rose up before them.

The smoke swirled, then faded, leaving behind a woman dressed all in black, long hair decorated with a black ribbon that made it look as if she had rabbit ears. She looked beautiful, even with the right side of her face scarred, but her eyes were frighteningly inhuman, black sclera with a glowing purple pinprick of light for a pupil in her left eye. She looked down at Gregory like she was barely tolerating being around him, which made Vanessa feel suddenly irritated with her.

“Once again, my name is FuriRosa,” the woman greeted with a huff, one hand resting on her hip, “Where did you put my knife, guey?”

“And then you wonder why I call you Knife Lady,” Gregory snarked back, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and lifting it to show off a belt cinched around his stomach, a sheathed knife strapped to it. “You won’t let me use it, so I just keep it here. Happy?”

“Is that a knife?” Vanessa demanded, scowling at the weapon as Gregory pulled the shirt back down, “Why do you have a knife? That’s not allowed in the Pizzaplex! And where did you come from?” The last question was directed at the strange woman, who only sneered at her in silence. Rude.

“This is Knife Lady. She came from the knife, and I found the knife already in the Pizzaplex cuz somebody dropped it,” Gregory introduced her in a dry tone, “She’s some kind of weird ghost thing and she has fire powers and she’s kind of a bitch.”

“Language,” Freddy reprimanded again.

“That’s kind of rude to say about someone,” Vanessa pointed out, glancing over at the woman now sniffing at the air and looking very much like whatever she smelled was incredibly offensive.

“She was rude first!” Gregory protested in frustration, “She wouldn’t let me use the knife!”

“You don’t have the right to,” FuriRosa shot back and took to glaring up at the wrecked pizzeria, “This place stinks of Afton blood, even more than the other place. Their Remnant soaks here.” She lifted a hand absently, pitch black fingers posed as though they were claws. “Get me further inside. If they’re hiding within, I’ll rip them to shreds and get my revenge.”

“I told you she was a bitch,” Gregory said in stage whisper to Vanessa, one hand up to his mouth in a performative attempt to hide his words.

“Language,” Freddy repeated in the same scolding yet patient tone. He sounded almost parental, weirdly enough. Vanessa looked at each of her companions in disbelief before looking back up at the pizzeria before them.

Yeah, there was nothing in the manual about any of this. Which meant she probably wasn’t going to get any sort of compensation… drat. She let out a long, low groan of complaint before taking a step forward to enter the ruined building.

Might as well get this over with.

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

She didn’t know how much time had passed since those lighthearted moments of banter. Honestly, she didn’t think she cared at this point. She felt hollowed out of everything, numb with despair.

“Vanessa? Y-you’re not dead, r-right?” Gregory’s voice sounded so small and frightened and helpless, the boy kneeling in the rubble beside her prone body. She faintly recalled Freddy laying her out on her back in as clear a patch of ground as he could. The sleeves of her uniform shirt were torn free and used to bind a couple of flat pieces of metal to her arm, a makeshift splint for her fractured limb. She didn’t know where her flashlight went, or her hat. Was that important? The thoughts drifted through her mind with no sense of priority or logic. Nothing felt important, really, not after what she’d learned from the madwoman inside the ruined pizzeria.

Was she even Vanessa? Was that truly her name? Vanessa Afton… what a sick joke.

“Vanessa? P-please, say something,” Gregory begged softly, hiccuping through the words. Drops of water hit her cheek and her lashes fluttered in response, her eyes moving at last from staring at nothing to focusing on the face of the little boy crouched over her. He was crying. He was crying and some distant instinct wanted her to wipe his tears away and tell him she was okay.

Was that truly her, or also a lie?

Gregory sniffled, his gaze searching hers for something. What was he looking for? “Mm,” he began uncertainly, his voice dropping to a whisper, “M-mom?”

Was that who she was? She couldn’t remember. Everything before she woke up in that research lab was gone, and months after she’d keep forgetting things. Those memories, they’d been taken from her. From her and from Gregory. Was she Gregory’s mom? Was Gregory even his name?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know and the guilt and despair threatened to pull her under. Even with the ruined pizzeria set ablaze, burning through whatever constructs were keeping larger rubble suspended and now threatening to spread to their little bubble of tenuous safety, she couldn’t feel anything but despair and shame.

“Officer Vanessa, please,” Freddy murmured through the scratchy voice box installed in him, “We need to get moving and find a way out of here. You need medical attention.” Her gaze moved from Gregory to the animatronic, and Vanessa searched the bear’s face for signs of humanity. He was possessed too, wasn’t he? Another discovery made in that cursed place. “Your arm is broken, you suffered an electrical shock, a head injury, and inhaled some of the smoke as we fled, which led to you passing out for a short time,” Freddy added, listing off her injuries to catch her up on what she’d missed.

She dimly remembered all that. Precious memories.

“Mom?” Gregory repeated, still sniffling as he sat back, rubbing the tears from his eyes, “Vanessa?”

“I’m okay,” she managed to get the words out at last, weak and tremulous and so, so unsure of herself. She couldn’t be ‘Mom’, not when she couldn’t remember being one. But she still felt the want to keep Gregory safe when she looked back at him, felt the urge to hug him and stop the tears, even through the thick blanket of numbness that coaxed her to give up and sink into her own mind and drown.

Gregory shook his head, lip trembling as he huddled in place. “You’re not. You’re really, really not,” he disagreed shakily and took an equally shuddering breath, “I’m not okay, either.”

She looked him over, at the new collection of scrapes and bruises littering his legs and arms and face. She should have kept him safe. If they were family, then she did a poor job of keeping him safe. The least she could do, before even thinking of letting herself fall into herself, would be to finish her job as best she can. His mission was complete, so now it was time for him to leave the premises.

“We should go,” Vanessa whispered. What time was it? Did it matter? Gregory nodded and pushed himself to his feet. She wondered if she should do the same but the problem was solved by Freddy sliding his hands under her back and legs, lifting her from the ground in a bridal carry. From where she could see, cheek pressed to his chest, Freddy’s shell had taken damage as well, deep scratches and scraped paint and part of one shoulder casing broken off completely, exposing the joint of his endoskeleton shoulder.

They started walking, Freddy and Gregory, and Vanessa listened to the heavy thumps of Freddy’s footsteps, faint vibrations moving through the shell of his chest. She could also hear her walkie-talkie crackling, Gregory speaking into it and relaying what happened in the pizzeria in between requests for help to escape this cave system.

“The people that showed up said they found and fixed another elevator for us, we just gotta find the other end of it down here,” the boy reported after a while. Vanessa lifted her head to gaze blankly down at him. He offered her a small and hopeful smile, “We’ll make it out of here… Mom.”

She wished he didn’t call her that. It wasn’t fair to them; Gregory deserved a good mom, and Vanessa couldn’t even be sure of her own identity. Not anymore. Still, he didn’t have anyone, and the madwoman who stole their memories had given them both the last name of Afton in some twisted mockery of adoption into her family, so maybe she could try to be a real family member for him. Vanessa managed a small nod and Gregory brightened a little, more hopeful in his expression.

“Oh, and your Not-Boyfriend also seemed to snap out of it, but he got taken to the hospital already,” he added, shaking the walkie-talkie to keep her focus on him.

“Best friend,” she corrected. Ugh, her voice sounded so raspy and bad. Was that from the smoke inhalation? Or the dust from all the debris that collapsed in the path that led to the pizzeria?

“Whatever,” Gregory dismissed with a wave of his hand, “Point is, Circus Baby’s friends are gonna help us get out of here, and then we can get away from this place and be free.” His eyes were wide and bright as he spoke, “Just the three of us, you and me and Freddy; we’ll ditch this place and find our own one. We can have a home.”

It sounded so nice. A real home, a place to heal and start making memories again, memories that wouldn’t be stripped from her mind to keep her blank for someone else to take her over. A home where she could look after Gregory, and Freddy and Sydney could help out, and they’d all be together and happy.

She wanted so badly to be happy.

“Yeah,” she managed to say, blinking to keep her tears in so she didn’t jinx the whole thing, “Let’s get out of here, and find a home.” She reached her uninjured arm out, hand open, and gave a gentle squeeze when Gregory put his hand in hers.

Freddy didn’t say anything, but he wiggled his ears and Vanessa could almost feel the smile from the spirit within him as they moved on in search of a way up and out of the madness under the Pizzaplex.

#fnaf fanfiction #fnaf au #parlourverse au #fnaf vanessa #fnaf gregory #glamrock freddy

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iconicofficesposts · 11 months ago

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Adaptable Elegance: The Alter L-Shape Height Adjustable Desk with Integrated Storage

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mariacallous · 2 years ago

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As much of the world was focused on Chinese President Xi Jinping’s high-profile visit to Moscow last month, it was lost to many observers that Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida was in Kyiv at the same time on an equally consequential visit. Making an unannounced trip to see Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, Kishida offered Japan’s solid support.

Three themes immediately stood out from the simultaneous presence of Xi in Moscow and Kishida in Kyiv. First, it pointed to East Asia’s active and growing role in shaping European security, perhaps for the first time since the medieval Mongol invasions. If China joins Iran in more actively supporting Russia in Ukraine, it would have profound implications for the course of the war—and the map of Eastern Europe. South Korea has emerged as a major weapons supplier to Poland, which is transforming into NATO’s most important military frontline state. The presence of the so-called AP4 (Australia, Japan, New Zealand, and South Korea) at NATO meetings is becoming routine.

Second, Kishida underlined that China’s view of the war in Ukraine is not necessarily the view in the rest of Asia.

And third, the parallel visits exposed the hollowness of Xi’s claims to be a neutral peacemaker in Ukraine. Even as some European leaders, like French President Emmanuel Macron, have hailed Xi as Europe’s savior who can mediate an end to Russia’s war, Kishida’s meeting with Zelensky served to highlight the one-sided nature of Beijing’s so-called peace initiative in Ukraine.

Traveling to Ukraine seems to have given a bounce to Kishida’s sagging ratings at home, but it also underlines the definitive break from decades of Japanese passivity on the world stage. Although it was perhaps coincidental that Kishida found himself in Kyiv at the same moment that Xi was in Moscow, his trip to Ukraine illustrated Japan’s emergence as a geopolitical actor to be reckoned with.

To be sure, the remaking of Japan as a key power in the security sphere began under the late Shinzo Abe, the former prime minister who undertook the onerous task of getting Japan to rethink its role in Asia and the world and shake off the political shackles of the past. Abe made much progress on revamping Japan’s national security policies during his two tenures as prime minister, from 2006 to 2007 and from 2012 to 2020.

But few expected Kishida to build on Abe’s strategic legacy. Abe’s shoes were big to fill, and Kishida was widely viewed as weak. The Ukraine crisis, however, offered a huge opportunity that Kishida seized with both hands to radically reorient Japan. If Abe had to struggle to get his ideas accepted by the political class, Russia’s attack on Ukraine has heightened popular awareness of the fundamental changes in Japan’s security environment. That a major power armed with nuclear weapons could invade a neighbor with impunity, seeking to unilaterally change borders by force, shook Japan to the core. Kishida’s plans to double defense expenditure over the next five years; modernize the military to better deter North Korea, Russia, and China; and take on a larger regional security role have thus found less resistance.

Long viewed as passive and pacifist, Japanese foreign policy seemed to produce few strategic ideas of its own. Tokyo was happy to follow Washington’s lead while avoiding challenging Beijing. Over the last decade and a half, however, Japan has begun to develop new geopolitical approaches, promote them, and get them accepted by allies and partners.

None of Japan’s foreign-policy innovations are more important than the invention of “Indo-Pacific” as a geostrategic concept and the establishment of the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue (or Quad), both of which are now integral to Asian geopolitics. Abe first outlined both ideas in an address to the Indian Parliament in August 2007. It was one thing to frame new ideas in a speech—and entirely another to get others to see their merit.

The initial international response to both ideas was skepticism among Japan’s friends and outright hostility from Beijing. But Japan’s sheer persistence and a rising China’s growing assertiveness saw Tokyo’s Quad partners—Australia, India, and the United States—come around to accepting Abe’s ideas.

In late March, Kishida also traveled to India to offer an upgraded vision for the Indo-Pacific that outlined a range of ideas to strengthen the region’s security, and he presented a more ambitious Japanese contribution to realizing it. This includes joint military training, and cooperation on maritime security.

A third important innovation from Japan was to transcend the “hub and spokes” system that defined the postwar U.S.-led security order in Asia. While Japan attaches great significance to its bilateral alliance with the United States, it has recognized the importance of directly connecting the spokes. Japanese efforts to build bilateral strategic partnerships with other countries in the region complement Tokyo’s alliance with Washington and deepen the basis for regional security amid growing Chinese military power and diplomatic assertiveness, with its destabilizing impact on the region. The strongest of these new regional relationships are with Quad partners Australia and India, but ties to South Korea and the Philippines are strengthening as well.

A key goal of Japan’s regional strategy is to strengthen the defense infrastructure and capabilities of Indo-Pacific states. If the Abe administration sought to give Japan’s substantial overseas development assistance a strategic character, Kishida is now developing a framework for overseas security assistance. These new Japanese initiatives have full U.S. support, with Washington eager to see its allies and friends become stronger by collaborating with each other and making themselves more capable in coping with the challenge from Beijing.

Just as important as Japan’s role in developing a new security architecture for Asia are Tokyo’s efforts to tie Europe to the Asian security order. Similar to the way Abe’s Indo-Pacific concept imagined the strategic unity between the Indian and Pacific oceans, he also recognized the deep interconnection between security in Europe and Asia.

It was nearly five years ago that Abe was inviting Britain and France, Western Europe’s leading military powers, to contribute to Asian security. Abe understood that isolationist pressures on U.S. foreign policy—which became so visible during the presidency of Donald Trump—meant that Asia couldn’t rely solely on the United States for its future security. Abe looked beyond the region for further partners to manage Indo-Pacific security challenges.

Since then, many European powers, including France, Britain, Germany, and the Netherlands, have outlined Indo-Pacific strategies. The 2022 U.S. National Security Strategy issued by the Biden administration also underlines the need for allies and partners in Europe and Asia to work together.

One of Abe’s last acts before his life was cut short by an assassin was to raise the question of Washington’s extended deterrence in Asia and to call for a debate on deploying U.S. nuclear weapons in the region. So far, Kishida has rejected nuclear sharing with the United States, and he has repeated the Japanese commitment to nuclear disarmament and nonproliferation. But the issue of a U.S. nuclear security commitment to Asia is unlikely to go away as China continues to modernize and expand its nuclear arsenal.

Underlying Japan’s new security vision is a clear recognition of the Chinese threat to Asia. Unlike many of its European peers who were or still are unwilling to come to terms with Russia’s or China’s aggressively revisionist ambitions, Tokyo has not let its massive economic exposure to Beijing get in the way of dealing with it. Proximity surely helped Tokyo perceive the problem clearly, but Japan had to overcome the inevitable constraints presented by the dangers of sharing a contested maritime frontier with China.

Equally significant has been Japan’s decision to highlight the implications of Russian aggression against Ukraine. In arguing that “Ukraine is the future of Asia,” Kishida has pressed Japan and Asia to see the implications of a nuclear-armed power unilaterally changing the territorial status quo.

With its increasingly clear-eyed security policies, Japan is reminding the West—especially Europe, which had become geopolitically complacent in the decades after the Cold War—that coping with the challenges presented by China and Russia demands greater discipline. This includes a much needed strategic outreach to the global south, where Kishida has called on other G-7 countries to do more to address developing countries’ own concerns and priorities instead of projecting Western policies and preaching to them about how to run their affairs.

As it rises to become a major geopolitical actor in Asia and the world, Japan has become the unlikely actor persuading the West to rethink its strategic assumptions. As France’s Macron and other European leaders struggle to come to terms with the challenges presented by Russia and China, Japan has injected a much-needed sense of clarity to the strategic discourse in Europe and Asia.

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cityadvertising · 2 years ago

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tubetrading · 2 years ago

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What are the benefits of MS Pipe angle and MS Pipe beam?

MS angle, also known as mild steel angle, is a type of L-shaped cross-section that has several applications in the building industry. MS angles, also known as metal angles, are typically used to create right angles with two equal sides with the same width and length. Equal angles are those in which each side is the same length, and unequal angles are those in which one or more of the sides is longer than the other.

While Tube Trading Co. is just one of many MS angle manufacturers in India, it is widely recognized as a leading supplier of MS Pipe angle in Vadodara. MS angles are easy to weld, drill, as well as cut to a desirable size, making them versatile for a wide range of applications. They also have exceptional mechanical qualities.

Applications of MS Angle:

Angles made of mild steel (MS) are produced using two materials, either high-strength low alloy steel or hot-rolled carbon steel, which gives them a great deal of stability for use in a variety of structural applications as well as other general fabrication and maintenance activities. It finds widespread applicability across a variety of engineering fields, including commercial, industrial, and domestic settings.

MS Angle is highly recyclable, and as a result, it is regarded as an economically viable material for the production of a wide variety of tiny and big components in virtually every industry. MS angles have a very broad range of applications since they may be utilized in a variety of contexts to perform a variety of functions to meet your needs.

The construction of bridges, buildings, as well as other types of structures, farm equipment and machinery, precipitators, transmission lines and towers, transportation corners and frames, border frames, as well as a variety of other applications are just some of the common industries that make use of MS angle.

Tube Trading Co. is one of the most reliable sources for all of your requirements if you are looking for a trusted distributor of MS Pipe angle in Vadodara, and if so, you should consider using their services.

Advantages of MS Angles:

In light of what has been discussed thus far, it should come as no surprise that the malleability and high degree of versatility inherent to MS angles confer a plethora of advantages.

The pipe angles made from Mild Steel are also available in a variety of grades, dimensions, as well as surface treatments. It has a lower carbon percentage, which makes it simpler to deal with because it can be easily drilled, cut, and welded to suit a vast range of applications, especially construction because of its tenacity. Additionally, it has a lower carbon content, which makes it more environmentally friendly. MS angles have a superb surface finish, and they are available in mild to high steel, all of which contribute to their popularity as a material for the construction of dependable building frames and structures. It is also quite versatile in nature, and as a result, it is regarded as a "green material" for the fabrication of all construction-related components because of this quality.

Therefore, regardless of the kind of building work you could be doing, you should think about using MS angle because it has such a vast array of different mechanical qualities. When it comes to acquiring items made of mild steel, it is usually suggested to purchase from reputable manufacturers and suppliers.

MS Beams:

Mild steel, often known as MS, is a common and flexible building material that may be found in the construction of large structures like skyscrapers and residential buildings alike. The Mild Steel used in construction is designed to withstand significant weight. MS Pipe beam in Vadodara is available in a variety of dimensions, and its application is determined by the needs of the construction. In order to protect a structure from being damaged by severe weather, it is common practice to make use of MS beams while constructing roof structures and the frames of homes. The ability of MS pipes and beams to be bent and shaped is an important factor in the construction industry's reliance on the usefulness of these materials.

Features of Mild Steel pipes:

● High tensile strength

● Made of a low % of Carbon

● Easily welded

● Budget-friendly

● Long-life

Primary Applications of MS Pipe Beams:

● General engineering purposes

● Mechanical purposes

● Structural purposes

● Water treatment plants

● Chemical processing plants

Advantages of MS Beams:

● Recyclable:

In contrast to the majority of other materials used in construction, structural mild steel may be recycled. This contributes significantly to the reduction of waste produced by construction.

● Durable:

Mild Steel beams and other structural components made of Mild steel are known to have a higher tensile strength that can withstand heavy weight, which contributes to their remarkable durability. It is more resistant to fracture under pressure than a mass of stone or wood of the same volume would be under the same conditions. One of the benefits that make structural mild steel structures ideal for the building of big skyscrapers and bridges is the fact that they can withstand wear and tear for a long time.

● Rust and Corrosion resistance:

The life expectancy of construction materials such as wood is poor because of the increased likelihood that they would rot sooner. Because of the chemical structure of mild steel beams, these components are resistant to rust and corrosion, which are two factors that could otherwise reduce the structure's longevity. Because of this benefit, the life expectancy of structures that are created using mild steel beams supplied by Tube Trading Co. - an excellent supplier and distributor of MS Pipe beam in Vadodara is higher when compared to other construction materials.

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