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fangirlshrewt97 · 2 years

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Tale As Old As Time ... (Part 10)

Alright folks, strap in, today’s is a bit of a rollercoaster for poor Bhairava. But don’t worry nothing bad happens. It’s also a longer chapter than the previous ones.

Let me just add the wonderful additions people have created. Here is a doujin manga style comic from @sally-for-sally, where she predicted how today’s chapter would go. Find it here. And @bromance-minus-the-b created another lovely moodboard which can be found here.

Full work Ao3 Link.

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

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Bhairava stirred to the sound of crowing roosters, yawning and blinking away tears as he opened his eyes. He stretched from his curled up position, reaching to the headboard as he arched his back, groaning at the pull in his muscles as he let himself fall back in bed.

He banged his ankle against his anklet, wincing at the sting of pain. He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his grin into his pillow as he thought of the previous night. When he closed his eyes he could still taste the soft skin against his lips. He couldn’t believe he had done that. He couldn’t believe the King had allowed him that.

The King… Bhairava jumped up to sit on his knees. The King was leaving today!

Bhairava rushed to his bedroom doors, throwing them open and running as far down the corridor as possible. If he leaned forward enough, he could just make out the entrance gate, but nothing else. Still, he waited, shivering as the cool rays of the sun brushed against his bare arms.

There! Bhairava could barely see as a group of five riders rode out, a familiar figure in all black leading them. His heart beat hard against his chest. He stayed there till they were out of view, and the guards closed the gate.

He walked back to the room, running a hand through his hair. He fell back in bed on his back, staring up at the canopy ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands. They hadn’t even done anything. But Bhairava had replayed the night of the Shivaratri many times in his head. If nothing else, clearly the King would not…object to his…affections?

“I do not think all the treasures in the world would equal your cost Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava felt out of his depth, he had no idea what he was doing and there was a good possibility he was going to make a fool of himself. At the same time, he felt like he could fly, because the King’s touch, the King’s gaze, they lit him up from the inside.

Nandhini had asked him if he had ever had anyone besides the Princess. He wasn’t sure how much of the Princess he had had. He knew he loved her, and if in another world they had been given a chance, he knew he would have been happy and done everything in his power to keep her happy.

And his other tumbles, they had been just that. Single nights of temporary pleasure that he either regretted or forgot about soon enough. But the King…

It scared him, how much he was already feeling for the King, how much he cared.

He wondered how much he could trust his feelings because when all said and done he was still a prisoner. He didn’t talk to anyone else in the palace but the ones King had sent his way. He only ever left when under Tapan’s supervision. He didn’t want to doubt Tapan. Or Nandhini. He doubted they would actually hide some nefarious thing from him. But his freedom was also very limited.

And yet, there would be moments, like what the King had said last night. Or the way he had…the King had knelt before Bhairava. Put Bhairava’s foot upon his own thigh. And Bhairava, maybe he was a fool, but he couldn’t help but feel that all meant something more. To the King too.

And now he was meeting the King’s family. He had mentioned brothers. That meant multiple.

Would they be like the King? Would they have the same hard exterior? Would they be gruff or nicer? Not that the King wasn’t nice or generous.

Bhairava sat up.

He should get up if he wanted to be ready by the time Tapan came to escort him. He had been thankful to learn the man would accompany them at breakfast. Yes it would be odd a guard ate with the royal family but at least Bhairava would have a familiar face nearby for support if the brothers asked him any questions.

Would Bhairava even know how to answer them?

As he sorted through the wardrobe for something to wear his fingers hit the box with the earrings where his old earrings sat buried at the bottom. A pang of guilt hit him.

He had only been here a month, but already he was forgetting home. Had Princess Mithravinda gotten married? Shouldn’t he have cared more? Was their love not as genuine as he thought? Was he betraying his home by starting to find comfort here? Or by developing feelings for a King?

Bhairava shook his head, a wave of nausea suddenly twisting at his gut. He had a breakfast to get prepared for.

///

“Will you stop! You are making me nervous with all that fidgeting!” Tapan hissed at Bhairava who looked away guiltily as he tugged at his kurta for the nth time.

“That is because you won’t tell me anything! A little warning would be appreciated.” Bhairava hissed back, glaring mildly at his friend.

Tapan snorted. “Bhairava garu believe me, as much as you think forewarning you to the King’s brothers will help, I know it will not. Mostly because they are…them.”

“Very helpful.” Bhairava muttered, scowling when Tapan jolted his shoulder and winked at him.

Bhairava instead studied the hallways they were walking. It was an entirely new wing of the palace, and it felt…cozier. Less like a palace meant to demonstrate the power and wealth of the rulers, and more a home to live in. The colors were warmer and there were a lot of nooks to sit and relax or talk with friends. There were also a lot more windows and open hallways, letting the light flood in. There was still a sense of loneliness that permeated the air though.

“Here we go.” Tapan said, obnoxiously cheerful, as the pair reached a large door. Bhairava dug his fingernails in to keep from swallowing his tongue. Dread and anxiety mixed in his gut, further lowering his appetite.

From the doorway he spied two figures who looked to be arguing in whispers. They had the same sort of build, but where one was in a light blue kurta with hair neatly styled to sit flat, the other wore a bright green kurta that hurt Bhairava’s eyes a little. He also had longer hair than even Bhairava, falling past his shoulders, and had it tied half up. Tapan tugged him inside.

There was only a few feet between them when Tapan cleared his throat causing the two brothers to look their way.

Bhairava froze, mouth dropping to the floor as he wondered if maybe he had hit his head on the bathroom floor that morning.

The brothers…their faces were identical. To each other. And to the King. The same straight nose, the same broad forehead, the same curved jaw and the same onyx eyes.

Well.

Not the same.

Neither sent the thrill down his spine the way the King’s eyes did.

He became aware that while he had been inspecting them, the brothers had stood up and were looking at him with the same curious glance.

Tapan started to snicker at his side, and when Bhairava turned to him with a betrayed look, he started laughing so hard tears collected at the corner of his eye.

“Traitor!” Bhairava growled, causing the man to laugh louder. He startled when someone cleared their throat in front of him, only to be met with one of the brothers. The one with the neat hair. It really was startling how similar but how different the brothers looked.

The brother looked sheepish. Bhairava could not imagine that expression on the King’s face. “Forgive me…”

“Bhairava.” Bhairava responded automatically.

“Right. Bhairava garu. I suppose no one thought to mention that we were…ah…triplets.” he finished lamely.

Bhairava’s mouth was still hanging open. “Trip…lets…” he repeated dumbly.

Then it hit him like a lightning bolt. “It was you! You were the one at the temple! I wasn’t crazy!”

That statement may as well have been a rock thrown through a glass window. Tapan stopped laughing, hiccuping into his next breath. And both brothers froze where they stood, the one closer to him still having his wide smile, but his black eyes were filled with panic.

He laughed nervously. “Bhairava garu, I don’t know what you mean…”

Bhairava shook his head. “No, at the temple, during Shivaratri. You were the one who gave the speech….dressed as the King…why did you give the speech?”

“I think you are mistaken-”

“Don’t.” Bhairava said, more harshly than he intended. But he knew what he saw. Those onyx eyes had not belonged to the King. They had belonged to the man standing in front of him. The one with the softer eyes.

“Bhaira-”

“Lava stop.” the other brother piped up. “Annayya let him meet us. I think that means we can tell him the truth.”

“But Kusa…” Lava replied nervously.

Kusa came forward to stand beside his brother. They really were identical. Except the eyes. All their eyes held very different things inside them. And the way they carried themselves.

Tapan had been right, even if he had told Bhairava, there was no way he would have known what to expect.

Kusa ran an assessing eye over him before shrugging. “So you are the one Nandhini has been raving about. I was expecting something else. I guess you have nice eyes?”

Lava elbowed Kusa as Bhairava frowned. “Excuse me?”

Lava laughed nervously again. “Nothing Bhairava garu, my brother just sometimes speaks without filtering.”

Bhairava smiled with a lot of teeth that had Lava swallowing and Kusa rearing up behind him. “Yuvaraja with all due respect. I find those types of people are the most honest. I would like to hear his thoughts.”

Kusa gave him the smarmiest smirk he had seen in a long time. His fingers itched with the urge to throw a punch. “Well from the way Nandhini was going on and on about how…pretty your eyes were and your hair and how you looked in all the jewellery, I guess I expected…someone with less muscles.”

Bhairava clenched his jaw, reminding himself that this was the King’s brother and he could not punch him. “Apologies for disappointing.”

Tapan cleared his throat. “Right, I am hungry. Yuvarajas, if we may?”

Lava shot Tapan a grateful look past a glaring Bhairava and pushed Kusa back towards the table, shoving him into his seat. The seat at the head of the table remained empty. Tapan sat opposite of Kusa while Bhairava sat in front of Lava.

“So…Bhairava garu. Tell us about yourself!” Lava said, eagerness returning. Bhairava stared at him. This man felt like the personification of a newborn puppy. How was he related to the King?

“Um. What do you want to know?” Bhairava inquired as he reached for a cup of water.

“Have you fucked our brother yet?” Kusa asked as he tore at a naan.

Bhairava choked, coughing as the water burned going down the wrong pipe. Tapan hit his back while Lava punched at Kusa’s arm, glaring at him. It was the most ineffective glare Bhairava had ever seen.

Kusa for his part scowled and focused on his plate.

“Again, apologies for Kusa. What he meant to say was-”

“I meant what I said, just cause you don’t like it, OW!”

Lava had pinched Kusa and both brothers were now staring each other down.

Tapan grabbed a guava from the fruit bowl and threw it at Kusa, hitting him right above his ear.

“Tapan!” Kusa growled.

Tapan merely raised an eyebrow as he drank his water. “Stop being a dick. Bhairava garu is a nice person, and a good man. Whatever you think you are doing is not working. And I doubt Maharaj would be happy to find out about your interrogation.”

“And how would he find out?” Kusa challenged as he looked back at Bhairava.

Bhairava rose up, biting back the growl at the implication he would tattle, sitting as straight as he could as he met Kusa’s look. “I am perfectly capable to standing up for myself.”

“Then we should be fine.” Kusa retorted.

Lava’s head thumped against the table. “This is a disaster.”

Bhairava agreed.

Luckily the servants chose that moment to come in with the food, serving them all before retreating back. They ate breakfast quietly, Lava trying his best to talk with Bhairava who answered him politely but exactly. Tapan interjected every once in a while with additions about Bhairava or their trips around town. Kusa mostly kept silent, still glaring at Bhairava.

Near the end of dinner, Kusa finally spoke again. “So, Bhairava. What exactly are you doing here?”

Lava knocked against Kusa’s shoulders but nodded. “It is a fair question Bhairava garu.”

“Your brother hasn’t told you?” Bhairava asked in surprise.

Both brothers exchanged looks. “Annayya is…not the most talkative.”

An unpleasant sensation curled around his stomach. Could he really have been imagining things? Why would the King not talk about him to his brothers? But then, why would he? Bhairava was just …fuck. He didn’t know. Why would the King talk about some guy to his family?

He shrugged, keeping the turbulent storm building in his chest off his face. “Maharaj-”

“KUSA!” A voice roared from the door the servants had entered through. Kusa cursed and stood up, but didn’t get far before a woman entered the dining hall, wielding a large kitchen knife.

“Arunama…” Kusa said as he turned on his heel, throwing her his most charming smile. “My day was looking so gloomy, but after seeing your face it is like all the flowers are in bloom.”

The woman was short, shorter than Nandhini, with a severe face of wrinkles. But she held her back straight and her aura was of one used to giving orders. Arunama…the cook? What was with the familiarity the royal family had with their servants and vice versa? It was dizzying, both how casual the King had been with giving Nandhini a spare Laddu, or this woman looking ready to hit a Prince. Tapan had called the King’s brother a dick! What the hell…

“How many times do I have to tell you you are not allowed in my kitchen!” she barked out.

Kusa winced as Lava buried his face in his hands. Tapan was staring intensely at the table, but only when Bhairava took in his trembling shoulders did he realize it was to prevent himself from laughing.

“I haven’t been in the kitchen since last week!” Kusa protested.

“I found another dead rat. Next to a bowl of payasam.” Arunama said.

Kusa sniffed, “Sounds like you should clean your kitchen more often.”

Lava’s jaw dropped and even Tapan looked at Kusa like he was crazy.

Arunama threw her knife, making Kusa yelp and duck. The knife flew past where he had been standing to embed itself on the floor. Bhairava was impressed. That was a good throw. “Arunama!”

“I don’t care if you are the brother of the King, next time you step foot in my kitchen I am chopping it off and feeding it to you, do you hear me? I have a palace to feed, I cannot be running around after you as you create noxious concoctions. And then don’t clean up after yourself!”

“Arunama, I am trying to learn to cook!” Kusa whines.

“Do it elsewhere!” the woman shouted before whirling around to face the trio at the table. As one they all sat up as straight as possible. They did not make eye contact with her or each other. “You, new one.”

Bhairava stiffened before he lifted his gaze. “Uh, yes?”

“Are you the soldier Maharaj has been squirreling food away to?”

Bhairava swallowed. Nodded.

“Do you have a problem with my food?”

Bhairava shook his head violently. “No madam, it is delicious, the best I’ve ever had.”

The woman, Arunama, squinted at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“No madam.”

“Then why did I get three days of meals untouched back to my kitchen?”

Bhairava winced. “Forgive me madam…I uh…I wasn’t sure whether I could trust it?”

“What? you thought I would allow someone to poison my food?”

“No, uh, no madam that isn’t…” Bhairava shut up when she pointed the knife at him. “Kusa, stay right where you are.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kusa had indeed tried to escape while the woman was distracted. Was he really that stupid?

“Aruna-”

“Shut up.” She barked, still looking at Bhairava. “You. What’s your name?”

“Bhairava madam.”

“Listen here then, Bhairava garu,” and Bhairava shivered, he hadn’t known how much derision could be injected into that title, “you send something back to my kitchen untouched I will feed you your own tongue. Are we clear?”

Bhairava …did not squeak. Outright. But close. He nodded his head so hard his neck hurt.

The woman harrumphed. “And it’s Arunama, none of this ‘madam’ nonsense.”

“You,” Arunama said as she spun on her heel and stalked towards Kusa who looked ready to bolt. “You are coming with me.”

She reached up, nearly going on her tiptoes and grabbed Kusa’s ear, pulling him with her as she returned through the entry she had used. Kusa talked the whole way, switching between apologizing and complimenting the woman who ignored him entirely.

The trio watched in silence.

“She won’t …actually kill him will she?” Lava asked at last.

Tapan shrugged. “Unlikely, Arunama only prepares the best food, and I doubt Kusa would taste nice, Yuvaraja.”

Lava glared at him while Tapan giggled.

Lava sighed and shook his head. He looked at Bhairava. “Apologies Bhairava garu. I assure you this was not how I had expected our first meeting to go. I hope you will agree to meet with us a second time? If we haven’t scared you away completely?”

Bhairava smiled at that and bowed his head. “Not at all Yuvaraja. It has been an…interesting first meeting.”

Lava gave him a weak smile and rose from his place, telling them to finish their food in peace. He would go ensure his brother was not suffering. Too greatly.

Bhairava watched as Lava left the room. Next to him, Tapan continued to happily stuff his face.

Bhairava hit his shoulder. Tapan whined with a full mouth. He finished swallowing his mouthful. “What?”

“How can you still eat?”

Tapan looked at him like he was crazy. “Because I have exclusive access to food made by Arunama’s hand. I am not passing that up. The food at the guard’s mess is good and all but it is not this.”

Bhairava sighed and let him eat, carefully cleaning his plate too.

“So, what did you think of the princes?”

Where to begin? They were…It was hard to believe they were related to the King. Lava, so soft and worried all the time, such a contrast to the confidence and power the King exuded. And Kusa, obnoxious and crass where the King was reserved and well-mannered. Both of them clearly shared a deep bond, and also clearly respected the King. Bhairava suddenly desperately wished the King was there, that he could see how the man was with his brothers.

He wished he stood on solid ground.

“Is it always so…”

“Chaotic?”

Bhairava nodded.

“Pretty much.” Tapan confirmed.

Bhairava sighed. “They are…unlike what I expected.”

That at least they shared with their brother.

///

It was late, and Bhairava could not sleep. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets, powerful enough to knock a person over. He slid one of the daggers the King had given him in out of the scabbard. He sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard. He tossed it in the air, watching it spin twice before it fell, and he caught it by the handle. He tossed it again, hypnotized by the way the silver flashed against the dim light of the lamps he had left alight. He kept repeating the toss, moving faster. He felt his breath pick up.

Sliding out of bed with the dagger still in hand, Bhairava went to stand at the foot of the bed so he would have a decent floor space. He tossed the blade in the air again, higher. He did it again, tossing it a little away from him so he had to step forward to catch it. He sped up his movements, tossing in more twirls and complicated twists as he spun around with the blade. He added the other blade to his exercises.

He stopped when his chest was heaving, and in spite of the chill from the thunderstorm outside he had drops of sweat on his brow. Wiping them away, he moved to another starting position. He put away one of the blades. This time he moved slightly slower, using only his left hand. When he finished, he felt the triumphant smile on his face match the warmth in his chest. It had been so long since he had had a chance to practice with weapons. His arms were starting to feel the burn after nearly a month without use.

A month. It had been a month since he had volunteered to stay behind so Princess Mithravinda could be returned home. Twenty days since he had had that first dinner with the King. Just a few since he had met Tapan and Nandhini, gotten to know more about the King. Just three days since he had met Lava and Kusa. It felt like a lifetime.

He hadn’t tried to invite himself to another breakfast with the brothers just yet, instead asking Tapan to show him more of the city. The King was due tomorrow morning. Bhairava’s heart pounded. He could still recall the taste of that soft skin against his lips. The press of those hands against his jaw. His scalp still tingled from phantom fingers every night.

Regulating his breathing as he came down from the rush of exercising, Bhairava went to the giant mirror, looking at his reflection. In so many ways he looked the same. His hair had grown a centimeter or two, he had lost a little muscle from not keeping up with his rigorous physical training. His bindi was still his favorite crescent shape, and he was still able to hold his head high at the pride of being one of King Vikram’s best soldiers. But in many others, it felt like a stranger.

The golden rings hanging from his ears had a diamond he could never have afforded. The ruby pendant was a grounding force against his ribcage. The simple golden circles of his armlets emphasized the size of his biceps but also made them more …feminine. As did the rings on his index and middle fingers, simple metallic bands that clicked against the pommel of the dagger. He wore a sleeveless cotton top and black cotton pyjamas, both more luxurious than any he had had in Udaigarh. And his feet…those golden anklets that were becoming more and more familiar each day. He sank down, sitting cross-legged, with his knees practically touching the mirror. He ran a finger across the golden bands, the smooth touch of the ruby contrasting the coolness of the surrounding metal.

He looked at his face. He had grown softer in general from weeks spent eating and walking with no training. He had a little more fat around his tummy, and even his face had grown rounder. The kajal around his eyes were faded, but he ran a finger over them anyways. All because of one man.

He also stood taller, lighter. Like there had been some burden he hadn’t realized he had been carrying that he didn’t have to carry here. There was a carelessness he didn’t recognize, from being allowed to just live, not worrying about anything.

He brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them as he buried his face into the space between them. The stone floor was cold, and he was barefoot. But the coldness running through his body was different. He was alone.

His parents were dead, his uncle had his own life to care for, the Princess would likely be married by now, or getting ready to be. The King would find a replacement easily enough. Where did he fit in? He missed home, but did anyone there miss him? Was there anything that he had been so crucial for?

And here he was, again a stranger in a land that was slowly but surely becoming more familiar. There were so many secrets, so much that seemed to be one thing, but turned out to be another.

King Raavana.

Goosebumps raced down his arms as he thought of those onyx eyes. Every time he was next to the King, or talking to him, or just in the same room, his senses pricked up. Was the King dangerous? Undeniably. Was he capable of hurting Bhairava? Easily. Was he devastatingly handsome and unbearably kind? Bhairava bit his lip as he curled into himself.

“I do not think all the treasures in the world would equal your cost, Kala Bhairava.”

Bhairava whined into his knees. What did that man want with him?

Just then he heard a scuffle. The storm was still raging outside.

Then. Again. The undeniable sound of footsteps. At this hour? It was well past midnight.

Bhairava grabbed the dagger he had dropped next to him, crouching low as he moved to the door. The footsteps were getting closer.

He went to stand next to the door, pressing himself to the wall as he tightened his grip on the blade.

The doorknob turned slowly, and Bhairava cursed himself for getting complacent and not locking it.

A large figure entered the room, the door slowly swinging shut behind him. The figure was wearing a jet black cloak, and paused at the sight of Bhairava’s empty bed.

Bhairava moved, reflexes still fast, so that he was pressed against the figure’s back, right hand holding a knife to the figure’s throat as he grabbed at the intruder’s right hand with his left, pinning them both between them.

The figure froze.

“Who are you?” Bhairava hissed.

Bhairava did not expect the stranger’s speed, as the man kicked one leg back sending Bhairava’s knee buckling. The stranger grabbed his right hand with his left, spinning around and slamming them both against the wall beside the door. Bhairava felt all his breath escape him, but he still fought against the hold. The arm he had pinned now pinned him back, fingers curving into his hip and digging in. The grip tightened until he cried out, nearly dropping the dagger.

The altercation was over in a minute. At some point, the stranger’s hood had fallen back.

A flash of lighting lit up the room, and Bhairava gasped.

He found himself staring into familiar onyx eyes.

“Maharaj!”

///

The last bit was obviously because @burningsheepcrown dropped this on me.

///

Feedback is appreciated.

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you): @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fangirl-from-discord @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @m3gs1mps4a @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @ssabriel @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls

#rrr #jai lava kusa #jai kumar #jai x bhairava #jairava #bhairava #kala bhairava #magadheera #my fic #my writing #taoat

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justatinybunwriting · 2 years

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Haunted 3

Chapter 3: Shadows

Synopsis: Aiden is haunted by terrors since the events from the haunted house. The darkest of these entities await him...

TW for fear and dark imagery

<<Previous chapter

The week since the eve of the scavenger hunt had been filled with restless sleep for Aiden. For the first couple of days following that fateful night, the Beta Wile could barely utter a syllable, and his stomach stayed mostly empty. Through the attempts of comforting words from his concerned friends however, Aiden was gradually able to break out of his shell shock by day three, and thus began his path towards normalcy. By week's end he was eating full meals again and his general unease of mind was beginning to fade away.

But all that progress quickly faded, on the exact Saturday after that event.

The evening was cold and the sky appeared to be starless. What started as a slow, almost peaceful day would end in a treacherous night- Aiden's dreams would once again bring upon relapses of terror, but this time, they were more intense than any that had come before it. Everyday for the past week at almost exactly midnight, he would startle up from his slumber; the young Wile would then curl into a ball and wrap his arms over his legs, remaining in this position until the rooster crowed. This time however, his body felt as if it was paralyzed by his own sleep-no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake himself awake.

Breaking into a pool of sweat, the Wile constantly tossed and turned. Tremors began to quake all over his body and his hands and feet remained petrified, fingers stuck in place with no means to be able to bend them. His eyes were rapidly moving from side to side under his eyelids, the sheer horror of what he was imagining were thinly emoting from his gaping mouth.

The tree... It bared no leaves or fruit. It's bark was freshly charred as if it was constantly burning from an unseen flame.

Each dusk carried this very same nightmare, but this time there seemed to be no means of escape. It was as if the hallowed wood was drawing him in like a magnet. Or perhaps, it was the other way around. Upon realizing this, Aiden managed to regain half of his consciousness- he was well aware he was still dreaming, but at least now he had some control. With all his strength, he broke the shackles that were binding him, which were revealed to be strange tree roots that were only made visible once the Wile giant was able to rip them to shreds. But like a lizard's tail but in ten times the speed, the tree roots regenerated and tried to tie him down again.

Aiden's eyes widened in a furious gaze, his pupils narrowing to a slit with his bared fangs spewing out a bellowing snarl. The Wile giant has had enough. With a resounding roar, Aiden called upon his inner magic to ignite the roots in a reddish-yellow blaze. He was able to burn away the restraints that were keeping him down, and in this process his magic glowed, almost resembling brilliant red wings. With these newly obtained appendages, he was able to glide far enough away from the hideous tree, and back into reality.

In that exact moment, Aiden shot out of bed. In a panic, the young Wile checked all over his body, finding much to his relief that there was nothing wrong with him. He gave out a long sigh, and was fixing to curl up under his blankets once again, when he dared to stare up to the ceiling. His eyes shot up in sheer terror and he nearly forgot to breathe as he gazed, or perhaps more accurately, felt the presence of it.

A shadowy blob like creature hovered just above him, baring erratic eyes all over its gaseous body. Like a Portuguese man-of-war, this thing acted as a swarm of different organisms that linked together to form a single unit. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like a natural force of nature. Just being near this entity left the young man sick to his stomach.

With the sound of multiple voices, it grumbled. "You are a Phoebe Wile.."

Aiden's hair stood on end as soon as he heard those words aloud. He couldn't verbalize with his mouth, but his mind could be heard by the foul apparition loud and clear.

'How the hell do you know about that?!'

"Your power is phenomenal. Your fire can even burn spirits" A male voice said.

"Your kind go through a cycle of birth and rebirth." Said a female.

"You are both half alive" spoke another.

"And half dead" said another with a menacing cackle.

"And because of this, you are in tune with the spirit world."

"That's why you can see us!"

'Just who are you? And what do you want from me?!' Aiden cries out in his thoughts.

"Who we are doesn't concern you..." Dozens of voices spoke all at once. "We came for your flesh! A fresh, living body to take refuge in."

"But despite being near immortal, we failed to inhabit yours. Your fire will cook us up."

"A shame really..."

'Wait, you were trying to POSSESS ME?!' Aiden cried.

The spirits remained silent after that remark, which had mostly confirmed the Wile giant's suspicions.

"Our work here is done. There is no need for us to stay any longer." A female voice grumbled.

"Just keep this in mind, Phoebe," a male one spoke, "when the time comes for us to pillage the land, we don't want you to get in our way."

"We'll leave you alone if you leave us alone, that seems fair, doesn't it?"

Aiden could only nod rapidly in response.

"If you don't keep your end of the bargain" the voices gathered at once, "then we'll come after you, and you will pay with your life!"

The blobs then amalgamated to form a massive hand that filled up almost the entire room. It then charged at the terrified Wile, stopping just before it appeared as if it was about to smack him. He froze in place as he witnessed the shadowy appendage hovering inches above his head. Aiden was not in human height, so the mere thought of a hand this enormous that can envelop him and easily crush him unnerved him like there was no tomorrow. Sensing Aiden's plight, the voices all began to cackle at once, steadily increasing in volume and mass until their sinister laughter swirled around the entire house.

Aiden was beginning to grow ill from his struggle to endure this, for he wanted so badly for this nightmare to end. But the euphoria that was spiraling into a chaotic mesh of shadows made sure to prevent him from entirely ignoring them. The Wile felt utterly powerless. The only thing he could muster was to pull his covers over him and count, as tears ran down his hot cheeks like cascades.

And then... There was silence.

Aiden could not bolt awake this time. Instead he slowly and reluctantly opened his eyes to the ceiling, which had now been cleared of the strange apparitions. The Wile gave out a tremendous sigh, for he couldn't shake off the fact that he felt completely drained after this ordeal. He then looked to the side at the clock to see that it was only half past midnight.

'Another sleepless night...'

That dream felt too real to have been merely just that. If his instincts are correct then something horrible had just unveiled itself to him... and it hinted at something ominous to come. Normally he would keep his insecurities and personal problems to himself, but this time Aiden felt that this was about to go beyond just him. Like it or not, he needed help- he could not shoulder this burden alone.

Next chapter>>

#bun writes #oc: aiden #ghost #Haunted #horror #nightmare #writblr #writing #october prompts #jac in the beanstalk society

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emilydisanti · 3 years

Text

Family Roots (poem)- Journal 3

They tell me I have my fathers eyes, ever changing color and always focused

Combined with my mothers smile, the ever so slightest tooth gap that fills the room with contagion of joy and presence

My presence is subtle, yet powerful, like the pink sky above a hot June day in New York City

Colorful like Italian ice, comforting like cafe con leche with soda crackers from the tin

I reside above the border of Brooklyn and Queens, it seems as though I always reside among multiple worlds

The sound of Hector Lavoe fills my kitchen, smells like the homeade batch of sofrito made this morning, green from all the peppers

Green like the hidden sanctuary garden my great grandma made in her Brooklyn backyard that resembles her Sicilian farmhouse

The rooster crows every morning, the M train off of Seneca is your alarm clock

They say Im a jack of all trades like my late abuelo, who sold piraguas in Patillas with a love for the ocean and Bruce Lee

Pisces like me, a natural musician

Social and witty like my Gemini grandpa, who took night classes to learn English as he worked full time to feed 6

They say I have an intimidating walk and look like my Scorpio nana, Brooklyn in her step, always ready to fight, vaseline in her pocket

Strong legs like my Italian uncles who can outrun a bus

My brain calculates every second like a competitive game of dominoes at a BBQ, always remembering like my grandmother who kept all of my childhood belongings

My hair as burnt orange as the the map of Sicily in her dining room she never threw out, my skin the fairest olive like the inside of a Christmas flan with a side of Coquito

Respectful like Bendiciones at the end of a phone call, loud like an Italian Sunday dinner

I reside among two worlds, yet I often feel disconnected in a galaxy of space filled with my broken Nuyorican Spanish slang and lack of familiarity to the Amafi coast

Yet I am made among multiple roots of an old family tree

And that in fact, grounds me in everything I am

#puertoriquena #boricua #italy #sicilia #multidimensional #multiethnic #poem #newyork #brooklyn #queens #nuyorican #salerno #patillas #latina #family #roots #spoken word

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firewoodfigs · 3 years

Note

Hey Friend, I know I'm a bit late with this but how about - "an answer to the prompt ‘fevered forehead kisses’" Thanks. :)

here you go, friend!! this one’s for you and @brucestephenbucky, who both requested an answer to the prompt ‘fevered forehead kisses’ :)

[also, this turned out to be longer than expected (~3k words), so it’s on ao3 as well! for easier reading, all that stuff xD]

Summary: In which Riza is down with a cold, and Roy is both anxious and painfully oblivious. Also, Roy has to conquer his greatest nemesis yet: carrots. (young Royai)

~x~

Riza Hawkeye always woke up by sunrise. This was an immutable fact of life; as unchanging as the fact that the sun would rise every morning from the east. Not once had Roy seen her sleep in — not even on the weekends.

But today was different.

The sun had already risen long ago, and the roosters were back with their awful crowing. And even the morning dew that embraced the paltry patches of yellowing grass outside with timeless regularity was starting to evaporate by now.

Still, Riza was nowhere to be found.

Roy’s first thought was that she’d gone on one of her routine grocery trips. But Riza Hawkeye was the human incarnation of efficiency, if nothing else. Unlike his sisters, who had an uncanny tendency to get distracted by other things along the way (because apparently every girl loved shopping on a biological level, or so they claimed), grocery shopping was something she could easily complete in about a half an hour or less.

And it had been nearly two hours since he’d waited idly by the fireplace for Riza to come in through the front porch with that shy, contented smile that she always wore in the morning.

Believing that this might’ve been a rare, life-changing occasion where Riza wanted to experience the wonders of sleeping in, Roy therefore took it upon himself to prepare breakfast for the both of them. Typically, this wasn’t preferable, as he was only capable of making two things that were remotely edible: toasts, and eggs. (Not even fried eggs. Boiled eggs, because those were impossible to screw up.) To make up for the slightly burnt toast, Roy brewed a sweet, soothing mixture of chamomile tea with cinnamon.

Then he laid everything out on the dining table and hoped for the best.

Fifteen minutes passed. Breakfast was beginning to cool down. The mugs were no longer steaming; in them only a lukewarm stillness that reflected his lonely, worried expression.

Roy bit into the burnt edge of a piece of toast, consulting the grandfather clock down by the inordinately large hallway.

The empty hallway.

Ten-hundred hours.

Roy sighed into his tea. Ten more minutes, he decided. Ten more minutes. If Riza wasn’t down by then, he’d go upstairs and check on her instead.

In the end, Roy found himself dragging his feet up the old, creaky stairs. He balanced the tray delicately on one hand, and knocked at her door gently with the other.

“Miss Riza?” Roy called softly, deciding against dropping the honorific. (Riza might’ve given him permission to call her by her first name, but she still was not taking the liberty of addressing him as such.)

Silence.

Roy knocked again.

The tray wobbled precariously.

“Miss Riza?”

A groan resounded from the other end, before he heard footsteps padding softly towards him. Then the door opened to reveal Riza in all her pale, half-awake glory.

To say that she was a mess was a bit of an understatement. Her hair was uncombed and completely disheveled (very much unlike her usual self); cheeks flushed a deep scarlet — a stark contrast against the sickly pallor of her countenance.

“Mister Mustang,” Riza rasped weakly. But her demeanour was quick to shift once she caught sight of the tray in his hands. Instantly she straightened like a soldier standing at attention, back straight and shoulders tense. “I’m so sorry — what time is it?”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Roy reassured hastily. “It’s about ten —“ Riza’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened like she was about to admonish herself for not getting started on her endless list of chores earlier, “— but don’t worry about it. Are you sick?”

A shiver wracked through her petite frame, one that she tried miserably to conceal by wrapping her thin arms around herself. “I’m not,” Riza lied unconvincingly. “I —“

“Have a lot to do, I know,” Roy interjected, biting back a sigh at her stubbornness. God, the girl really needed to get her priorities straight. “But you’re obviously unwell. And besides, I already made you breakfast. I didn’t do such a bad job, see? I even managed to make you your tea just the way you like it...”

“I — thank you,” she muttered, turning away to sneeze daintily into the crook of her elbow. “But really, it’s just a minor cold. You didn’t have to...” Riza trailed off as another shudder assaulted her.

Roy pursed his lips, somewhat bemused by her insistence (and poor attempts at deceit). He cleared his throat and straightened, imitating the tone that his indomitable sisters used whenever he was trying to wriggle his way out of drinking some weird, medicinal concoction. “It clearly doesn’t sound like a minor cold. You should rest before it gets worse.”

“But...”

“No buts, Miss Riza.”

Roy set the tray down on her bedside table, then strode back to where she was. Gingerly, Roy put a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t flinch from the contact, he gently guided her back towards her bed. Riza didn’t protest. Instead, she was quick to settle back down, clutching onto her blankets for dear life — as if the short walk to her door had sapped her of all her energy.

“Just rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything else.”

Evidently too weak to argue further, Riza nodded and coughed into a fist. “I’m really sorry for the trouble —“

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he nearly exclaimed, a little frustrated by her self-deprecating logic. In what universe was it someone’s fault for falling sick — something that was not even within one’s realm of control? “Just let me know if you need anything, okay? A doctor, medicine, whatever. It’s what friends do for each other.”

“Friends...” she mumbled, eyes averted — in embarrassment? He couldn’t tell. Despite the remarkable progression in their relationship, Riza Hawkeye was still very much an enigma.

“Friends,” Roy affirmed, fluffing the coverlet a little before leaving hastily, his own heart pounding in his throat.

~x~

Roy spent the rest of the day dusting the window panes, sweeping the carpeted floors and drying the laundry in between studying for his upcoming test. More than once he’d spotted Riza coming down the stairs, meandering around the hallways aimlessly like she was inspecting for non-existent dust under the guise that she was just about to pour herself another glass of water.

Roy was quick to see through her excuses, however, and had ushered her back into her room with a full jug of water instead. Every hour or so, he’d go up to check on Riza, a warm cup of freshly-made ginger tea in his hands (a remedy that his aunt swore by, despite its repulsive taste) and constant reassurances that he was doing just fine with the chores.

When evening-time came around, Riza appeared in the kitchen, eyes bleary and nose pink. Roy withheld the urge to roll his eyes.

How stubborn could one person get? And was there — no, would there ever be a point where she’d come to spare a thought for herself? To put herself ahead of others?

Probably not, he thought wryly.

“I’m a lot better, really,” she sniffed, huddling an old, tattered shawl around her for warmth. (Roy made a mental note to get a new cardigan for her — one that was thicker; more suited for unfortunate days like these. Maybe a pink, fluffy one that matched her secret femininity.) “I should start making dinner.”

Right. He’d completely forgotten about that.

“I can take care of that,” he said. Riza quirked a brow at him, unconvinced. Roy shoved his wounded ego back down his throat and tried again. “Really. I’ll just make up a simple stew for us.”

What could possibly be so hard about throwing a few ingredients into boiling water, right? He’d just have to wait for the ingredients to work their magic. And if they didn’t, then he’d have to trust in the mythical powers of sesame oil and salt to save the day. Or so he’d gleaned from his sisters’ numerous mishaps in the kitchen and Riza’s incredible cooking.

“... Please don’t trouble yourself, Mister Mustang.”

“Nonsense. You’re always troubling yourself for my — for our sakes,” he insisted, guiding her towards the living room. Riza opened her mouth like she was about to protest. And Roy scrambled for a better argument. Something that might work on her desire to avoid causing trouble to others at all costs, perhaps? “Think of it this way. You’ll be - um, it’ll be worse if you pass out in the middle of the kitchen while cooking.”

After a long, contemplative moment, Riza relented and stepped back hesitantly. “Try not to burn anything down.”

This was a remarkable challenge, but Roy Mustang was not one to back down from challenges. Instead he nodded, solemn. “I won’t.”

Riza nodded, settling herself on the old rocking chair by the fireplace for warmth. The evening was remarkably chilly tonight, however, and so Roy tucked his coat securely around her, ever thankful that his reclusive hermit of a teacher did not choose to grace them with his presence at that moment.

Then he scurried back into the kitchen like a mouse and began rifling through the lower compartments of the fridge.

To his dismay, Roy found the following items: corn, cabbage, and carrots. Naturally he despised them all, since they belonged to that vile, disgusting category of food known as vegetables.

But carrots. God, carrots were the worst of them all. Those malicious sticks of bright orange clearly hated him with a deep-seeded passion, and so did he. Things never turned out well whenever he was forced to work with them in the kitchen.

Unless one considered multiple cuts and band-aids ‘well’.

Still, he was determined to make Riza a decent, hearty meal tonight. (Or maybe not ‘hearty’ -- that implied that he was a good cook, which was a little ambitious. More like edible, perhaps.)

Inhaling deeply, Roy rolled up his sleeves and set about to work once he found Riza’s little recipe book. But determination soon melted into frustration after he’d chopped up cobs of corn and sliced potatoes and had to face his greatest adversary in the world: carrots.

And after a lot of groaning and grunting and wheezing, Roy somehow ended up peeling more of his own skin than the carrot’s; a feat he hadn’t even thought possible until now.

… Like he said, they really hated him.

“Damn it,” Roy cursed softly under his breath, not wanting to wake the sleeping blonde. He quickly rinsed them under running water, then rummaged through the cabinets for a box of band-aids.

Torn between mild amusement and self-pity, Roy stuck them over the numerous cuts decorating his poor fingers and sighed.

Well.

Nothing like a few lacerations to prove his gallantry, right?

Still, Riza’s fitful, shuddering frame was all the motivation he needed to conquer the menacing abomination. At least most of them were chopped up by now, even if they looked nothing like the neat wedges that Riza usually managed to cut them into.

But it was all the same in one’s stomach, he reasoned.

Mindful to not set the kitchen ablaze, Roy got back to work and began dumping everything into the pot.

~x~

By some miraculous stroke of luck, the kitchen was still intact about an hour later. Roy popped back into the living room with a wooden tray holding two bowls of vegetable soup, billowing clouds of steam curling around his face.

“Hey,” he called gently. Riza cracked an eyelid open, still semi-conscious. “I made us some soup for dinner. Think you can get up for some?”

“I - oh,” Riza mumbled. Her face fell slightly as she adjusted herself on the seat.

Roy got the nagging feeling that she was about to apologise once more for not helping.

“I mean, it’s not the best, but it tasted… edible,” he cajoled. Barely edible, actually. It’d tasted bland, sort of watery; but Roy had been too afraid to add in more salt or seasoning for fear of screwing the whole thing up entirely.

One could only hope that the cold had muffled her taste buds.

“Thank you,” she said softly. They ate together in companionable silence; metal clinking gently against ceramic as the fire crackled.

Roy resisted the urge to scrunch his face up at the blandness of it all.

Riza, on the other hand, did not appear to have any qualms about the simple fare; she made no comment on his ostensible lack of talent in the kitchen. Instead she flashed him a small, grateful smile that warmed his heart immensely.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little better, I think.” Almost inaudibly, Riza added, “Thank you. For all of this, I mean. I really appreciate it.”

Roy beamed. “It’s no problem. Like I said, you’re always doing so much for our benefit. It’s the least I can do.”

Roy got up to clear the dishes before she could, once they were done with dinner. By this point, however, Riza was clearly too tired to argue. She waited by the fireplace as he rinsed the bowls; a shivering cocoon of blankets and soft sneezes.

And like a panicked mother hen, Roy started fussing. Without warning he helped Riza up, bringing her close so that she could lean on him for support. She was dangerously warm to the touch, he realised. It seemed her fever hadn’t broken yet, and he could feel the goosebumps trailing up her skin as they walked.

“Mister Mustang,” she called feebly, flushing scarlet.

“Hm?” he asked, oblivious to the heat crawling up his own neck.

Gently, he led Riza up the stairs and guided Riza back into her room.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can go get a doctor or something, if you need…”

It’d be hard to get one at this hour, especially out in the isolated countryside, but the boy was willing to do anything to help his friend feel better.

“N-no. I’ll be better once I get some rest, really,” she said, almost pleadingly as she nestled underneath the inviting coverlets.

Catching sight of her wide and frightened eyes, Roy instantly swallowed his earlier words. “A-alright,” he said worriedly, caught in a bit of a dilemma himself. “I’ll stay with you, then. Just rest, okay?”

Feverish and utterly enervated, Riza offered him a tiny, hesitant nod and drifted back to sleep.

~x~

For the rest of the night, Roy stayed by Riza’s side like he was holding some sort of sad, long vigil, changing the damp towel on her forehead every hour or so. But her fever did not subside. If anything, it only got worse. Delirium was starting to kick in. At some point she’d started muttering imploringly for her — mother?

Roy’s heart shattered.

How many ill, lonely nights had she endured aloneafter her mother’s passing, all because she wanted to avoid inconveniencing her negligent father? Riza was strong, yes, maybe even almost to the point of being invincible. But she was still very much a child. She was only thirteen, for heavens’ sake! Yet the girl always carried herself with an independence and maturity that far exceeded their peers’ — the sort that could only have been derived from hardship and misfortune. And Roy found himself feeling something akin to guilt and sympathy and admiration, for a girl who’d been forced to grow up far too soon because of her predicament.

Overcome by some profound, unknown emotion, Roy leaned forward and brushed her damp, matted fringe aside to press a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Get well soon,” he murmured.

Riza fidgeted slightly. For a moment, Roy thought she was about to regain consciousness. And all of a sudden he became acutely aware of what he had done: he’d trespassed some unspoken boundary and kissedher.

Roy recoiled sharply like he’d been struck. He leaned back into his seat, running a hand over his scruffy hair and crossed his arms decisively over his chest; an exercise of self-restraint. What was he doing, anyway? Taking advantage of his friend in her sleep?

God forbid he do so! Roy had grown up learning that women were to be treated with utmost respect. The importance of chivalry had been indoctrinated in him from the time he’d learnt how to walk, and he was not about to engage in any sort of funny business. Nope. Definitely not.

(He would be lying, however, if he said Riza wasn’t adorable while she was asleep like that.)

Fortunately for him, Riza was sound asleep. She was still shivering, though, so Roy drew the blankets up and readjusted the towel on her forehead. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she rolled over on her side.

Content that he was able to bring his friend some comfort, Roy lolled back into the seat to take a short nap, not seeming to mind in the least the inevitable stiff neck that awaited him.

Beside him, Riza let out a small smile as she tugged his coat closer around herself.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #young royai #yesss I'm back with my young royai corniness... sorry not sorry...#what about it!!! uwu #also Roy Mustang vs carrots L O L

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aisakaab2 · 4 years

Text

Lunar Somnus

This is a story mine when I was 14 years old I try to translate to English I hope you like it

The life is such as a dark alley that when you step up on it lights up, that’s why sometimes pick up the wrong path. Just like you're the one that revolves around the future, there's times he can revolve around you, waiting for you with something you don't expect to happen. I know what I say, because everything started to revolve around me at some moment. Maybe it was there where those strange dreams that attacked me began on the nights when the night sky was not greeted by the silver sphere called the moon, and perhaps, it had luminous points, called stars, visible. In those dreams I could see a thick black fog, it seemed such as a smoke from which only I could make out a silhouette and a beautiful, mysterious and unbelievable eyes. These was of an amethyst colour, but before of can do my vision clearer, I wake up startled while a cold sweat ran through my body and my heart throbbed strongly.

Time kept passing and those dreams kept attacking me mercilessly in some new moon nights. Since then things have gotten worse or maybe just, they uncovered the lies. Why I say that? Because my two best friends. A cute girl of the school and the other the sporty. I never thought at first to befriend them, I should have drifted as far away as possible, but I didn't in due course. When my parents told me, we should move I put on my best surprised face instead of joy, I told them that I understood and nothing was wrong. When I entered to my bedroom, I put me to jump and dance When I calmed down, I found that I was alone two days to go, so I started packing my few belongings.

In less than a rooster crows, my days passed. When we get to our destiny, I discovered that we were in Tenerife. Despite having asked them a thousand times where we were going to live, they preferred to keep me in suspense until I got to this amazing house. It had a large patio totally limited by iron gates and concrete walls, whose of apparently granite. The house had doors, windows, balconies, also a large garage. When I entered to the house, I checked it have been decorated for coordinate the modern with the classic rustic. I went to the room, whose had instinctively chosen and was delighted with the decoration.

That night, this strange dream came back for attack me, but there was something new: a symbol and the door of basement of the house where I lived now. When I wake up, for coincidences of destiny I found in front of that old and dusty door, whose was open, until I realized I had my hand on it knob. Confused I entered, I went downstairs, entering the room in complete darkness, feeling the sound of my own footsteps. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the image of those amethyst eyes returned to my mind. I didn't care about it and walked up to feel... Arena? I looked down, but all it was so dark, I hadn’t my flip flops but I was step on arena and rock. Suddenly I saw some light. I approached the deceased checking that he was a firefly and I carefully opened the window, entered lighting the room. I closer where found the arena, I saw the ground of rock whose there was engraved a full moon with a waning moon and waxing moon. I touched that strange symbol which one appeared a strange light. When that succeeded, I got scared and I decided run away of the basement to my room.

The next day I wake up and I saw in my shoulder blade I had a tattoo same I saw in the basement, a full moon.

The days passed and classes had started at the institute, where I was surprised not be the only new one. A young boy with purple hair and brown eyes, almost black, and other young boy with black hair with grey streak and brown eyes. They were the ones who came in with me.

The dreams were becoming more noticeable, worrying me. One day the boy with black hair with grey streak closed to me. He had a nice voice and for some reason I don't know, it gave me a lot of confidence. We became fast friends, although... he at first said nonsense. Then that boy with almost black eyes looked at me with a strange air, I think he doesn't fall good. He came up to me one day, the night before I had been in the basement. It had been a while without sleeping well and I think it was showing. He told me not to release him and I didn't I knew what he meant.

The days went by, dreams became more frequent and then I did not I held on longer and decided to find out what that basement was hiding. I was to class like a normal day and Jisung, the boy of black hair with grey strakes told me something of release my past. I was very surprised, since they both knew something that I did not know and that worried me. What was being hidden from me? There were many questions without answer.

When I came back to home I went to the basement and I stop frightening. I was going to do? I opened the door and it done a squeal and I close to the beginning of the downstairs. I went down accompanied by the creaking of the stairs thanks to my footsteps, until I touched the wooden floor. I had a flashlight so I was able to head to where the symbol that I saw painted on the rock. Touching it again, a beam of white light came out, giving in a strange halo, I turned off the flashlight, and carefully got up. I could see how the dark smoke that covered the basement battled in a magical way with the white and bluish light coming from the symbol. Worried as I was, I waited until that the light was gone, but the symbol was still shining. I reached out and touched it slowly the full moon shone and I moved my finger around the hoop and the light became so intense that I had to close my eyes. When I opened my eyes, I found me in front of a guy with grey hair and amethyst eyes. He looked me, smiled and he help me to wake up.

-I’m Felix- told me with a smile that made me shudder.

-I’m Y/N- I told.

When I found out it was a ghost, I didn't believe it, until a while later. He told me the story, or part of it, of the moons. They were magical beings, who, when dying, they reincarnated winning a battle. Jisung was the waxing moon and the guy of eyes almost black, whose name was Seungmin, was the waning moon.

Time passed and I liked Felix more and more, even if I kept it quiet, the latter was gentlemanly and gallant. I don’t know how to do Felix came back human…

One day Seungmin and Jisung told me:

-That with the power of the visible moon will be able to save the hidden moon from darkness... but they don't know it.

Months passed and then I understood. I decided to go to the basement where Felix was, despite the multiple feelings that began to attack me, I entered and went down the stairs that were already illuminated. Felix was sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. He got up and walked over to me. I could only look at him confused and not knowing very well that do. Let it go? But I... I liked... I just liked. So why me was it so difficult?

- What do you feel? - Felix asked mysteriously, approaching me and caressing my face with his hands.

-I… -I remember trying to say something, but I closed my eyes when I felt the caress and I didn't know how to respond.

-Let me show you what happened -Felix asked me and approached me very slowly face. I felt his breath, his arms around me, his lips brushing mine until turn that simple touch into a kiss.

At first, I did not know what to do, but little by little, I stopped thinking, and my lips joined in a dance that made the kiss turn between deep and delicious. I passed out, I know because his eyes, before falling into his arms, looked at me gently.

When I opened my eyes it was all dark, but I could distinguish like another girl, blue eyes and blue aura surrounding her, she looked at me. That girl said to me:

-You and I are one. I am the blue full moon, and I know everything that you do not remember...

She told me many things. She told me how Felix and I, in a remote past, were together, even though I never revealed my feelings to him. A human, who had virtue of being a medium, he fell in love with me and killed me because he understood that he could never be hers, Felix was sealed and I understood at last.

When I woke up, Felix was holding me. He smiled at me, kissed me and I reciprocated while I whispered that I loved him, he replied that he too and disappeared, something he said that he only expected to know my feelings since he did not know them in the other life ...

Three years passed and I was already in University. I thought I would never see him again. That same afternoon I found out that there was a new student. I felt like it invaded me a tornado of feelings: on the one hand, nostalgia for the past time, on the other, an inexplicable feeling that something new was going to enter my life. And without thinking, like if something pushed me to look in that direction, I saw it. It was him; it couldn't be any other. How a sleepwalker went to him and grabbed his arm. He turned and stared at me. Of suddenly she smiled and hugged me, until that moment I had forgotten to breathe and I felt the air expelled with relief.

-Thanks for bringing me from death. I love you so much that not even death could hold me back- and then he kissed me and I knew that the magic of love existed: "I love you" I whispered.

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fisherfurbearer · 5 years

Text

Why Enrichment Matters, and Why Improvement Never Ends

Animal enrichment is a never-ending process of learning and always, forever striving to improve.

I haven’t said much about the pair of button quail we adopted earlier this year, but they’re really something special. I’ve never owned birds before them, but I had done a lot of research into quail off and on and I’ve always obsessed over birds in general, but nothing else is like actually owning one in my own house. I’ve learned so much from just observing them and making small changes to their environment and care, and it has benefited them so much.

Wasabi (rooster) and Mushroom (hen) were hatched and reared by a local couple to us, along with several other roosters and hens that they hatched at the same time. Not realizing until later that button quail, especially roosters, are territorial and do best in pairs, they were looking to adopt out most of their quail to good homes, and we decided to adopt two of them.

Being hand-reared, they aren’t as horrifically skittish as I’ve heard other button quail to be (I’ve heard stories of some that are so nervous they bolt upwards to the point of hurting themselves if anyone so much as comes near their enclosure, and they remain Extremely Stressed after any enclosure maintenance!!) but they were NOT, and are not, handleable. Which was fine by me, I never expected them to be cuddly, but it was a little disheartening that they didn’t seem as relaxed as I wish they would be. Even after they calmed down and adjusted to being together (they were both housed separately before, but quickly bonded and have never had any issues) and being in a new environment, they would spend a lot of their time awake pacing and pecking at the walls, acting agitated even though they had room to move and plenty of food/water. I even gave them treats, which would calm them down for a short period of time, but soon after they would be back to pacing.

We have now had the pair for almost five months now, and so much has changed. I don’t think my initial care of them was ever BAD, per se...they’re still in the same enclosure they started in, with the same wood decor and they get the same treats...but all of the small changes I made over time have definitely made a difference.

After spending so much time watching their interactions and behaviors, I managed to test many different ideas and slowly alter and Improve their living environment and husbandry to what it is now.

This was their original set up right before I got them:

It’s not BAD, not at all! But it really wasn’t best for the birds. This was my first time owning any bird, let alone a ground-dwelling bird like button quail, so using my research and some assumptions I tried to come up with a set up that might make them feel more comfortable while also giving them space to perform natural behaviors. The substrate was a modified mix of my tarantula substrate (topsoil, coco coir, vermiculite, and sand) with extra soil for dust bathing. I used half-pint mason jars as food and water dishes, and (not shown here) mason jar lids for oyster shell and grit.

It was alright. There was some cover for them to duck under, and plenty of open space too, but I quickly realized it wasn’t nearly enough cover to make them feel Secure, and the semi-transparent sides may have been contributing to their pacing.

Over the weeks, I experimented...

I mixed up the wood placement, substrate choices (turns out 100% soil isn’t best, actually! They LOVE soil/sand for dust bathing, but it’s better as one specific corner, and pure RINSED sand is their favorite!), messed around with adding cover and changing foliage color/types, I tried growing live plants early on (that was a huge failure, by the way), experimented with different types of treats and forages (millets, roaches, and black soldier fly larvae are big favorites!!!), and learned a lot from watching their behaviors.

Over time, they grew bolder, and CALMER.

Here is their enclosure today, for reference:

It’s been a while since I last switched them over to their newest substrate (mostly soft paper bedding with a corner of play sand) and decor, and I haven’t noticed ANY pecking or pacing. Sometimes Mushy will pace the front of the enclosure and peer through the crack in the door, but she never pecks like she used to. They don’t even crow as much these days...they both have a wide variety of beeps, songs, and crows, but they only make a huge fuss if they’re low on water or food. In a way, they’ve trained me to keep all of their resources in tip-top condition and I’m convinced that soon they’ll figure out how to beg for treats, too!! Every time I open the door (to spot clean, replace water/food, remove eggs, etc.) I ALWAYS scatter healthy treats or leave a dish of insects for them, and it GREATLY reduces maintenance-associated stress. In the past week, she won’t even run from my hands!! (Well okay, today she ran, but I also had to remove her Secret Egg Stash and a lot of bedding from the sand so the movement set her off, but still, usually she’s good) Most of the time she waits for the doors to close before she dives for treats, but a couple times now she will wait for me to put it down in front of her, and will even eat with the door open and me sitting right there!! She’s still not perfect (again, today she was more antsy, but I don’t blame her) but she, and Bibi, come such a long way.

(Wasabi holding a One Singular bug for his wife to come take. He’s such a good husband and saves the best treats just for her. <3)

I attribute this to a mixture of changes, of course. It took a while to get this far and a LOT of adjustments, but it’s been worth it. I would say the greatest changes we made were...

- Keep general maintenance quick, calm, and Consistently reward door openings with treats. Scattered treats (ex. millet balls/individual seeds) are superior to entire millet sprays or dishes. ALWAYS remove birds from enclosure and place inside a dark, soft-sided box covered with a blanket for Safety during full cage cleans. GREATLY reduces stress associated with free-roaming.

- Multiple substrate types are better than one. Soft paper bedding or wood shavings are gentle on feet and aren’t super messy, and a corner of sand is greatly appreciated! They dust bathe several times a day and it seems to be a sort of ‘bonding’ time for them both. Rinsing sand vs. unrinsed soil is MUCH better for them as well, I learned that the hard way...everything was ridiculously dusty before and now we have had 0 dust problems!

(Pardon her bald butt, Bibi is NEVER aggressive with her, but he still manages to rub off her feathers when they court and she looks pretty weird. I’m not sure how to prevent this.)

- Cover!! And LOADS of it!! Even if you think it’s enough, it isn’t. Visual barriers are so important and they THRIVE when they have decor they can hide under/behind and run between. They’re tiny birds and can dive around it like it’s nothing, and even though the enclosure looks crowded, it’s actually set up so they have Maximized floor space. GREATLY improves their confidence and sense of security. Switching up foliage/decor types seems to be beneficial, but large-scale, frequent changes probably aren’t the best. They seem to prefer when some decor is kept the same (ex. large wood features) and others are changed.

- Designing multiple “zones” seems to offer them a much greater amount of choice and has made a huge difference to their behavior. Instead of an enclosure where everything is the same, they now have a corner just for dust bathing/sleeping, a middle section with shaded water, and food in the open, and a third section with a lot of cover to the sides and an open middle area where they can be out of sight. Shown above, it looks impervious, but that’s all quail-accessible space behind that wall of decor. I plan on setting up an avian UVB light (but arcadia only makes them in T8s so I have to figure that out before I get one...) to put over their dust bathing/open area to give them further choice and basking options, as well.

(Mushy’s secret egg stash!! I didn’t even know these were here until today, they’re so well hidden!! She never broods them, but it’s interesting to see that she’s started to lay them in the same place, she never did that before the changes.)

All in all, these little changes have added up, and I’m still improving as we go along. I have additional plans for building a larger enclosure for them one day (probably 48″x24″x12-18″) so they can have a third substrate option and even more room to run and roam...it shouldn’t be too expensive and I think they’d really enjoy it.

This turned into quite the ramble, but I hope it proves to someone out there that ENRICHMENT. MATTERS. And that just because your first run of something was ‘fine’ or even ‘good’ doesn’t mean it can’t be BETTER!! Learn from your mistakes, learn what you can improve, watch your animals and see what they do and how to encourage healthy, natural behaviors. Enrichment of all types isn’t just for our enjoyment, or because it looks pretty or cute. These changes have greatly influenced my birds’ behavior and comfort, and we will continue to learn and improve as time goes on.

It’s a never-ending process, and it’s a bit of work, but seeing them healthy, calm, and content is what all pet owners should strive for.

#birdblr #animal enrichment #avian enrichment #vivarium design #button quail #my pets #mushroom #wasabi #i have to send an update to the guy i adopted them from #to let him know theyre doing well #it was so funny when we met in that wawa parking lot so i could pick the birds up #i think we were both worried the other person was going to be a serial killer #or worse...some creepy old dude...#but nah it was a really rad trans guy and his girlfriend #and theyre my age and were all pretty short and just looked at each other like #'im so glad youre someone my age and also not a murderer'#and we talked for a while and they were very chill and passionate about birds #and i think theyd probably like to hear about how the quail are doing...#last time i showed them the enclosure they went out and got more stuff for their own quail #and made it all handsome and added lots of cover and branches and stuff for them #it made me so happy...they were so inspired by my own care that they improved their own birds c':#thats what its all about #thats why i ramble like this and want to keep animals all my life #it makes me so frickin happy

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acuaticamber06 · 5 years

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Training

Just some defense training in the woods with the Nek(r)o gang. What could possibly go wrong? @nekob00

***

“Okay.” Nico took a couple of steps back. “Come at me.”

They were in the clearing that Nico used before as a camp whenever she hunted in this part of the woods. It was far enough away from town to be secluded, but still close enough to be accessible. Open on all sides but one, it backed up to a rocky wall, exposed long ago when the mountain grew tired of hiding and wanted to feel the sun on its face. Moss had grown on many of the ledges, but when the sun hit it at the right angle, it sparkled with mica between the green patches. In early spring, the clearing would be carpeted in purple and white crocus breaking their way through the last of the winter snow, but summer was in full bloom, and they had trampled down the knee-high meadow grasses for their exercise.

Dawn took a steadying breath as she gripped her marker. Nico had forbidden the use of real knives until Dawn was proficient enough to handle a blade. Instead, they used short sticks that had been burned to charcoal on one end and cooled. That way, a touch from the “knife” would leave a mark on their clothes. Dawn hadn’t yet been able to mark Nico, even a little. She suspected that she never would.

After a moment, Dawn rushed forward, brandishing her weapon. Nico matched her movements, stepping back and moving with her.

“Your eyes give everything away.” Nico’s teaching voice was calm but firm. “Don’t look to where you’re going; you need to watch your opponent’s eyes to predict my next move.”

“But you don’t give away that kind of information with your eyes!” Dawn panted exasperatedly.

“I will for the sake of training. When we move into defense, it’s a skill you will need. Start now. Watch my eyes, but keep your vision open to movement outside of my gaze as well.”

Dawn locked her eyes on Nico’s, trying to remain focused and unfocused at the same time. It wasn’t easy.

She lunged suddenly, hoping to take Nico by surprise, but Nico stepped into the attack and thwacked her stick against Dawn’s rib cage.

“You’re reaching. Too open. Keep it tight. Don’t give your opponent an opportunity to get to vital parts of your body.”

Dawn stepped back and tried again, feinting left but moving right, grabbing Nico’s sleeve and pulling it in an attempt to get her off-balance. Nico was rock-steady, however, and instead whipped her arm in a circle and trapped Dawn’s hand in the material of her sleeve, bending her arm and bringing her to her knees.

“Clothing grips can be useful, but be careful where you choose to grab. The back of my arm would have been more effective than my wrist. Places I can’t move are even better. Try again.”

“What’s this? Two fey gone dancing in a fairy circle, and I wasn’t invited?” A voice called out between the trees. Ris emerged into the clearing, his face pulled into its usual smirk of mischief.

“We’re training, Ris. That’s not a two-person job. Well, not yet anyway.”

Dawn’s eyes widened with poorly-concealed apprehension and Nico chuckled.

“We’ll work up to multiple opponents, then Ris can join us. Maybe Miri will even give us some of her time.”

Ris settled down with his back against one of the trees that lined the clearing.

“And how goes the training?” He asked Dawn. “Have ya poked her full of holes yet?”

“No. Of course not.” She groaned, resetting her position to go again.

“We’re focusing on the basics right now.” Nico added. “Form and stance.”

“Well, don’t worry, Dawn.” Ris picked a long piece of grass and chewed on one end. “When you’re done dancin’ with Nico here, you ‘n me can start the real training.”

“This is real training.” Nico stood up out of the stance she’d taken to glare at him. “Being able to analyze a situation can make or break a person in a fight.”

“Maybe, but it certainly isn’t the fun part.”

“Fun? FUN? Was it fun to have wounds all over your body? Was it fun to be beaten so badly that you couldn’t move?” Nico strode across the clearing and stood over Ris, her eyes stormy with anger. “Was it fun to die?!?”

Ris stood up and tried to stutter out something in his defense, but Nico cut him off.

“No. You know what? You’re right. I should have invited you to our training. It’s clear that you’ve forgotten the only two rules of fighting defensively with a short-range weapon:” she held up her fingers in succession. “Disable and disengage. That’s it. That’s how you stay alive.”

Ris tried to interject again, but Nico continued right over him.

“I’ve seen you fight before, Ris. You’re smart. Smart enough to know when you should bow out of a situation.” Ris took a step forward, his hands up in a placating gesture, but Nico pushed his shoulder back into the tree, forcing him to stay put. “But you kept coming back! Over and over and over again! What the hell were you thinking?!?”

“MAYBE I WAS READY TO DIE!” Ris suddenly roared, his ears flat against his head. Dawn’s hands flew to her mouth and Nico pulled up short.

“Maybe I was sick of bein’ snubbed and hated by every person I meet on the street.” He growled through gritted teeth. “Maybe I was tired of fightin’ a reputation I didn’t choose.”

His words began to lose their fire, and his eyes flicked over to Dawn.

“Maybe...maybe I finally found something worth dyin’ for.”

Silence swept over the clearing. Not even the birds dared to break it. Then, quick as lightning, Ris turned and took off through the trees.

“Ris! Ris, wait-!” Dawn picked up her skirt to follow him, but Nico put out an arm to stop her.

“No. Let him go.” A heavy sigh fell from her lips. “This is my mess. If anyone should go after him, it’s me.”

“But what did he mean?” Dawn stared out the way he’d gone in shock. “Something- something worth dying for?!?”

“I...don’t know.”

They stood there for a moment, and Dawn tried to process what had happened. What had Ris meant? Why was he so ready to die? Was defending her life really worth dying in his eyes?

“I think we’re done for today.” Nico turned and gathered their sparring weapons. “You head back to town. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“But you will stay with me tonight, won’t you?” Dawn asked, now worried for two of her friends. “Please don’t sleep out here.”

“I won’t.” Astra strolled out into the clearing, laying down at Nico’s feet, her mouth tinted pink with a recent kill. “I just... I need time. To think.”

Dawn turned her feet in the direction of home, her heart heavy. She glanced back over her shoulder at the clearing and saw that Nico had sat down where she had been standing, her ears folded back and every part of her body completely still.

***

Nico kept to her word and returned late that night, going right to bed and leaving before Dawn woke the next morning. She left a note on the table telling Dawn not to worry and promising to be back in a week for more training.

Dawn worried still.

When Friday morning arrived, she got up even earlier than usual to begin baking for Ris’ visit. Anxiety had left her restless every night since, and sleep was elusive at best.

She dug out a small bag of dried Iccia berries that she had been saving for a special occasion and worked them into her bread dough. Tasting simultaneously of roses and citrus, Iccia berries were a rare treat for anyone outside of the richest classes. Dawn had been so excited to find them growing out in the forest that she’d picked every berry she could find, then took a few clippings of the plant with her to grow in pots on her windowsill. She’d enlisted Miri’s help getting them to root, and now the tiny bushes were thriving in their new domestic home. It would be many moons before they would bear fruit of their own, though.

When everything was almost finished, Dawn opened the window and lit the lantern. A few minutes later, Ris swung into the room, crowing like a rooster.

“I do believe I beat him to it this time!” He chortled, then breathed in deeply. “Is that Iccia I smell? I must be doin’ something right if you’re wastin’ such an expensive ingredient on me!”

Dawn didn’t respond. In fact, she hadn’t even looked at him. She stared into the hearth, stirring the fire with the poker. After a long moment, she finally spoke.

“What did you mean, that I was worth dying for?”

After a heavy pause, she heard Ris sigh.

“Straight to the chase, huh?” He shuffled to the table, pulling out a chair to sit. Dawn swiveled around on her stool to find him with his hands folded near his mouth, looking pensively at the tabletop.

“Arinaens are a minority out here in the world. We’re considered second-class citizens, but treated like third. The reason why is buried in an ancient mudslide of political intrigue, one I haven’t bothered to dig through in a very long time.” His tail flicked back and forth rhythmically as he thought. “I’ve been branded as untrustworthy from the moment I was born, and at some point I stopped tryin’ to fight it. Maybe that’s why I became a thief.”

His eyes found hers briefly, then went straight back to the table in front of him.

“Friends have been few and precious in my life and... I guess it just seemed like an honorable way to go. Defending my friend. To the death.”

Dawn stood and moved towards him slowly, her eyes hidden behind her hair. When she reached his side, she dropped to her knees, hugging him around the waist.

“Don’t.” Her voice was tight with the tears she was trying to suppress. “Don’t die for me, Ris. I’ll learn how to defend myself. I won’t need protecting anymore.”

She took a shuddering breath as Ris’ hands wrapped around her.

“You’re too important to me. Please.”

He stood and pulled her into a full hug. She hugged him fiercely, needing that contact, the first real moment they’d shared since the incident with the guards.

“Alright.” His voice was quiet and gentle. “I guess I can stick around. If it means that much to ya.”

After a while, she brought him out to arm’s length to look him in the eye.

“You need to talk with Nico.” Her tone left no room for nonsense. “She was just as worried about you as I was. We all were.”

Ris looked out the window at the rising sun.

“I know.”

#nekob00 #nek(r)o #ris west #nico #dawn #fanfic #angst

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countless2ndchances · 6 years

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Jesus Wept: Combating Toxic Masculinity

I can’t tell you the day…or even the year…but I remember this moment so clearly. We were standing outside at a camp ground, waiting for the rest of our group, when all the sudden his eyes filled up with tears. People cry. I was prepared to awkwardly comfort him, probably not knowing what to say but comfort him in whatever small way I could. Before I could even uncross my arms to offer a hug, he turned away and apologized. It was the first time I could really remember someone apologizing for having emotions. His exact words were “you shouldn’t have to see this” …as if his tears were some terrible thing. We tell people “you shouldn’t have to see this” about violence, flames engulfing their house, their child hooked up to too many tubes, their loved ones being hurt. So, in a way, I guess you could argue that he was right. I shouldn’t have to see my friend pretending not to be hurting, ashamed of the fact they were in tears.

In his book “Renegade Gospel”, Mike Slaughter makes the claim that Christian churches are losing numbers because Jesus is not portrayed in a way that is “manly enough” for their liking. While I’m not a scholar and not arguing with Mike Slaughter or other theologians, I personally believe that is an oversimplification of the matter. Is it possible that there is a happy medium between this “tea with Grannie but not much of a man” as Slaughter refers to our current image of Jesus and the stoic toxic masculine figure we want our men to be? Is it possible to be powerful without being overpowering?

We teach boys from an early age that they are fine, that they are strong, and that real men don’t cry. Now surely, we of the Christian faith, are not going to say that Jesus Christ was not a real man. We all know “Jesus wept” is the shortest bible verse (although only in our English translation…in its original Greek the shortest verse is 1 Thessalonians 5:16 which translates to Rejoice Evermore). John 11:35 isn’t the only time Jesus weeps. There are three documented occasions when Jesus weeps. First, Jesus weeps when he hears the news of the death of Lazarus Jesus weeps for Jerusalem as a whole, and lastly Jesus weeps in the garden, though maybe not from his eyes. Jesus is also NOT the only man in the bible who weeps. In Genesis alone; Esau, Jacob, Joseph, and Benjamin ALL weep. In 2 Samuel we find David and Saul both weeping on multiple occasions. What does Peter do upon remembering those infamous words Jesus spoke to him (Matthew 26:75 Peter remembered the word which Jesus had said to him, “Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” He went out and wept bitterly.) Peters weeping is so important that it is mentioned not only in Matthew but in Mark and Luke as well (Mark 14:71 and Luke 22.62) Although there are many emotions in all the books of the bible, Jeremiah is one that is specifically filled with many emotions most of which are coming from G-d. Most likely if you’re reading this, you are also aware that we are made in G-ds image (Gen 1:27). So, if G-d is an all-powerful being full of emotions, then how is it that we can expect our young men to bottle their emotions up inside of them? If we are made in his image then we must laugh, we must love, we must hurt, we must cry, and we must feel the same way he did.

So where do we find the balance? Even the World Health Organization acknowledges that a lack of understanding “masculinity” in shaping expectations and behavior is a primary causative factor for the health disparity between men and women ((Evans, Frank, Oliffe and Gregory, 2011). Being a strong independent man does not mean not asking or seeking help. We’ve all heard plenty of jokes about men and how they won’t ask for directions. The sad thing is, the reason guys don’t ask for help is because society judges them and perceives leaders who need help as less competent. Yet, we are told in Matthew 7:7 to ask and it will be given to you and in Psalm 107:28-30 they cried to the Lord in their trouble and he brought them out of their distress. How can we expect to help our young men if we don’t allow them to share their needs? Church needs to be a safe space for our men to begin to combat societies toxic masculinity, it does not need a more violent Jesus. Jesus act of rebellion are based in love, and so we must surround our young men with unconditional unjudging love so that they have the freedom to feel things with the same passion that Peter, Jesus, and even G-d felt.

#i did a thing #tune in next week for another thing hopefully #bible #jesus #devotions #writing #jesus wept #toxic masculinity #Jesus christ #the bible #genesis #new testament #i hope to write more of these but idk if anyone is actually gonna want to read them #bible verses #bible talk #jesus talk

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homesteading-alliance · 6 years

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The Complete 7-Step Guide to Raising Chickens in Your Backyard

Do you love the idea of being able to collect fresh eggs each morning?

Or do you love the thought of waking up to hens cackling and a rooster crowing? Makes you feel like you are really living the country life, huh?

Well, if any of this sounds like a dream come true to you, then you’ll want to tune into this post. I’m going to give you a complete guide to raising your chickens.

Hopefully by the time you reach the end, you’ll feel fully confident and ready to go buy your first set of hens. (Maybe a rooster too!)

Here is how you raise a flock of backyard chickens:

Where Do They Sleep?

The first thing you’ll need to know about raising chickens is where they should sleep. If you’ve been browsing the internet long, then you know that there are about a million different chicken coop options.

Well, maybe not actually a million, but there are a lot. If you need coop ideas be sure to check here for some great ones.

Regardless of what kind of coop you choose to use, you need to know a few basics of an ideal house for chickens:

1. Chickens need adequate space

I said they needed adequate space, not a lot of space. Chickens really only need about 4 square feet per chicken.

But keep in mind, the more space they have the happier your birds will be, and the cleaner the coop will stay.

Plus, you have less chance of disease spreading among your flock because they won’t be living in cramped spaces with other birds.

So remember that 4 square feet is the minimum you want to go with, but a little more won’t hurt.

2. Your birds need roosts

Chickens don’t sleep on the ground. They like to roost on bars. Therefore your coop will need to have roosting bars.

Now, these don’t have to be anything fancy. You can hang branches in your coop horizontally so the birds have a place to perch and wrap their feet around. You can also use other types of rounded wood.

But you do want to make sure that the roosts are rounded so it is easier for the chickens to wrap their feet around them.

Also, make sure that each bird has about 8 inches of perch space per bird. Also ma, e sure that they are not anywhere near the feeders or waterers.

Plus, be sure that you do not stack the roosts vertically above each other. No bird should be above another bird, because a sleeping chicken is a pooping chicken.

3. The girls need a place to lay

You’ll need to be sure to include nesting boxes in your coop. This is where your hens will go each morning to lay their eggs.

However, you’ll probably need multiple boxes. It is best to only plan on having 3 birds per box, but I’ll let you in a little secret. Your birds are all going to have a favorite box, and then fight over it. Just be prepared.

But give them adequate boxes anyway. You never know, you may get the first ‘normal’ group of hens yet.

So far, choosing a favorite box to lay in has been the trend of our coops.

4. It must be secure

Security is the number one focus of your coop. Your hens are animals that lots of other animals like to prey on.

So be sure that you have no holes in your coop, that you use lots of chicken wire, and choose latches that no toddler could figure out. If a toddler can’t open your coop, then a raccoon can’t either.

But you’ll also want to consider things like flooring in your coop. In our first coop, we had a wood floor. We also had to embed chicken wire into the ground, so that if an animal tried to dig in, it would dig into the chicken wire and would stop digging.

Now, we have an actual floor in our coop so we no longer have to worry about that. These are all decisions you’ll have to make when deciding to build your coop. Just make sure that you leave no room for predators.

Read this article to learn more about different chicken predators and how you can protect your chickens.

What Do Chickens Eat?

via Ready Nutrition

Chickens are not finicky animals. They will eat just about anything. In my experience, it is best to hang a feeder in the coop. Fill the feeder full and fill it up as needed from that point on. That way you aren’t worrying yourself about if your chickens are eating too much or too little.

But the risk you take by not leaving food free flowing in the coop is that if a chicken thinks there is a food shortage, they will stop laying.

However, if they feel like there is plenty of food, they will be happy and lay continually.

But what you choose to fill that feeder with is totally up to you. You can use store bought scratch grains, cracked corn, layer feed, or you can go a more organic route.

For instance, you can raise your own fodder, feed chickens table scraps, mealworms, or these other inexpensive chicken feeds. You may also want to try these alternatives to layer feed as well.

In short, chickens will eat pretty much anything you throw their way. Just be sure that you feed them plenty of protein because they need that in order to lay properly.

Also, include some calcium in their diet as well. They need this for strong eggshells. If they don’t have enough calcium in their diet they will start breaking their own eggs to get the calcium out of it.

Finally, chickens also require grit. This is basically rocks that go down into their gizzard which will help them grind their food and make it easier to digest.

To Free Range or Not…That is the Question

via Livestrong.com

Choosing whether or not to free-range your flock is a personal decision. There are pros, cons, and alternatives to each method.

Pros to free-ranging your flock:

They require less food.

When chickens free range they are able to search for their own food. They naturally peck and scratch which helps them locate bugs to eat.

In turn, this means that they eat less of your store bought or homegrown food because they are able to forage for their own.

They don’t need as much coop space.

When you allow your birds to free range, they spend most of their time out and about foraging for food. Nothing makes a chicken happier than foraging.

So they don’t need as much coop space because they will only hang out in it when the weather is bad or when they are sleeping.

Their coop requires less maintenance.

Obviously, if your birds only go to the coop to sleep, they don’t make as much mess as they would if they were in the coop full-time.

So it means that you shouldn’t have to clean it as often. This is good news for the busy farmer because the less frequently you have to do chores, the easier it makes it on you.

Cons to free-ranging your flock:

They are at a higher risk for predators.

As mentioned before, chickens are highly preyed upon. When they are out of the safety of their own coop, it is game on for predators.

So be advised that you might lose chickens to predators if you allow them to free range. It is just part of the risk you take when you let them live beyond the chicken wire.

They get into things.

Chickens are usually pretty good about knowing their boundaries, but if your garden or flower bed is within their boundary, it is fair game.

So just know that they will scratch in your garden hunting for bugs. It is what chickens do after all.

They lay everywhere.

Finally, this is the reason why I struggle the most with allowing my chickens to free range. They lay their eggs everywhere.

So it makes it difficult to find their eggs because they could be on the ground or in a bush. Every day is an egg hunt.

The alternatives to free-ranging your flock:

Building a chicken run.

If you want to give your chickens room to roam outside but also keep them safe, an alternative could be a run. This is just a strip of fencing that may have a top over it or it may not.

But this allows them to get out of the coop, scratch around, and also get sunlight while still hanging out in a protected area.

Building a chicken yard.

You could also build a chicken yard. This is a fenced in yard (that is usually larger than a run) that gives the chickens room to get outside, scratch, peck, dust, and do anything else outdoors they wish while still being contained in a larger fenced area.

So as you can tell, free ranging is a decision that will vary between chicken owners. You just have to do what is best for you and your specific situation.

Best of the Bird Breeds

Different chickens serve different purposes, but you’ll want the best breed for the purpose you are raising them. Here are the best breeds:

Egg Layers:

1. White Leghorn

via Moose Manor Farms

White Leghorns are great layers. They usually produce around 280 eggs per year.

However, be advised that these birds can be a little energetic. If you are looking for a more docile breed, then this may not be the best fit as they scare easily and can be a little flighty when surprised.

2. Rhode Island Red

via Purely Poultry

Rhode Island Reds are great layers too. They lay around 260 eggs per year.

However, these birds have a rather sassy temper, especially the roosters. So be advised that they can be a little more difficult to handle if you are new to raising chickens.

3. Golden Comet

via Cackle Hatchery

This is a very friendly bird that can lay anywhere from 250 eggs to 300 per year. That is a lot of eggs.

Also, because of its gentle temperament, this might be a good breed to start with if you are a beginner at raising chickens.

Meat Breeds:

1. Cornish Cross

via Purely Poultry

The Cornish Cross is a fast growing bird. The females average around 8 pounds per bird and the males average around 12 pounds per bird.

Plus, they are ready to be harvested at around 4-6 weeks so they don’t require a ton of investment in food or time.

2. Jersey Giant

via Cackle Hatchery

Jersey Giants are great birds to raise. I actually raise these myself. The females average around 10 pounds per bird while the males average around 13 pound per bird.

However, these birds do require a little extra time since they can’t be harvested until around 20 weeks. But they grow to be quite large so the time may be worth your investment.

3. Bresse

via Claborn Farms

This is a more expensive meat breed, but once you have your breeding pair you are set. They cost so much because they are known for being extremely tender.

So you can be ready to harvest around 7 pounds of meat per bird in an average of 16-20 weeks. Once you taste them, you may decide that it’s definitely worth the investment.

Dual Purpose Breeds:

1. The Black Australorp

via Cackle Hatchery

This is a large bird that is known for laying around an egg per day. It is said to have a friendly temperament about it while also be very aware of what is going on around the flock.

But if you’d like to eat the bird after its laying years, depending upon the sex of the bird, it should produce a 5 to 8 pound bird.

2. The Speckled Sussex

via commons.wikimedia.org

This is another chicken breed that is known for laying regularly. It also is known for having roosters that are very protective of the flock.

But once these birds are done laying, you should be able to have a 7-9 pound bird for dinner depending upon the sex.

3. Rhode Island Red

via Pure Poultry

The Rhode Island Red makes our list again. These birds are great layers as we’ve already discussed.

But I can’t stress enough to watch their temperament. Once you decide it is time to eat this bird though, you should end up with 6-8 pounds depending upon the sex.

Here's more list of the best egg breeds:

10 Best Chicken Breeds for Eggs

10 Best Chicken Breeds for Meat (and Dual Purpose)

How to Keep Them Healthy

Diseases and pests are a big challenge for chicken owners.

But pests like mites are just part of raising chickens. They are little bugs that climb on your chickens and cause them a lot of discomforts. It can actually lead to death if they are attacked by too many at once, as they wear down their immune system due to stress.

So how do you beat them? You purchase an inexpensive, natural treatment that will also help you to worm your chickens too: Diatomaceous Earth. Check out other uses for it here too.

All you’ll need to do is sprinkle DE on your chickens about once a month or so. You could even include it in an area where they like to dust bath. This will kill any mites on them.

But when you begin to notice that your chicken’s eggs have a lot of poop on them, you’ll know it is time to deworm them. You do this by sprinkling DE on their food. They ingest it, it makes them poop, and the worms are gone. You’ll do this on an as needed basis.

If by chance you begin noticing that your chickens’ legs are scaly, this is a different type of mite known as leg mites. You’ll want to rub Vaseline on your bird’s legs for about 1-2 weeks to smother the mites. When you see their legs have returned to normal, rub the Vaseline on their legs for a couple more days just to be sure that all of the mites are gone.

You now know how to help your birds beat the most common pests that will try to share their coop.

Read this article if you want to learn more about the most common chicken diseases and how to treat them.

How to Keep a Clean Coop

Helping your girls to have a clean area to live is probably one of the best things you can do for them. It helps to keep them healthy.

So I usually clean my chicken coop out about once a week or so. I refresh nesting box material as needed, though.

However, once a week I go in and complete these steps:

1. Clean the floor

I always begin by cleaning out all of the material from the floor. If you have a dirt floor in your coop, then you might want to try the deep litter method.

But if you have an actual floor in your coop, you’ll want to come through with a pitchfork and toss all of the material into a wheel barrel.

Then you can use it in your compost pile.

2. Refresh nesting material

Your girls will not want to lay in a dirty nesting box. That is why I change mine almost daily.

However, be sure that this is an item included on your weekly cleaning trip to ensure that your girls have a happy laying space.

3. Clean the feeder and waterer

Next, you’ll want to empty the feeder and waterer. Wash them out with a water hose and allow them to dry.

But be careful using any kind of cleaner in your coop as it can upset your chicken’s sensitive respiratory system. If you feel like you need to scrub the waterers or feeders, use vinegar. It is natural and wont’ harm them.

4. Clean the roosts

Then you’ll need to go along the roosts with a garden hoe to knock off any poop. If you feel they need a solid scrubbing, then just use vinegar and water.

However, be sure to wear gloves if you are handling chicken poop. You don’t want to get sick while trying to keep them healthy.

5. Empty the run

Finally, if you have a run area, be sure to open the door to it and empty it as well. Then you’ll need to add fresh material to the run to ensure that your chickens aren’t constantly walking on poop.

If you follow these few steps on a regular basis, then you’ll be well on your way to having healthy and happy chickens. Which hopefully equates to lots of eggs for you.

What Your Hens Need to Produce Eggs

The final step to raising your chickens is to make sure you give your birds what they need in order to lay eggs. They need the following items:

1. Clean space

We just discussed how to give your chickens a clean laying space. If your birds aren’t laying, be sure to check their housing situation. It may be dirty or overcrowded.

So try to avoid this issue if at all possible.

2. Food and Water

I mentioned this earlier too, but be sure that your birds know that they have plenty of food and water available.

If they feel they do not, they can potentially quit laying.

3. Sunlight

Finally, your chickens need sunlight. During the winter you will notice that most chickens lay fewer eggs. This is because of shorter days and less sunlight.

However, you can stick a regular lamp in their coop and put it on a timer so your chickens think the days are longer. This means they’ll wake up earlier and stay up later so they have enough time to lay for you.

Well, those are the basics to raising happy and healthy chickens. I wish you lots of luck on your backyard chicken adventure.

But I’d like to know if you are a seasoned chicken keeper, do you have any advice you’d like to share with those that may be new at this?

We love hearing from you so leave us your thoughts in the space provided below.

This article first appeared on morningchores.com Original Article

The post The Complete 7-Step Guide to Raising Chickens in Your Backyard appeared first on Homesteading Alliance.

#how to homestead #urban homesteading #chickens #backyard farming #how to live without electricity #h

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penpaperandstories-blog · 7 years

Text

The Dress

She was awakened by the loud crow of the rooster near their window. When she roamed her eyes to the entire room she couldn’t find her mother. Making her tears starts to drop from her eyes. Leaving for a year there is like she is in purgatory. But now that everything turned worst it feels like she’s in hell. Memories of the past flashed in her mind.

“Hey, Hey, Hey! This is Annemazing and welcome to my channel!” She is Anne a 15-year old girl who puts too much of her time on social media. She likes to film her everyday life from the things she’s doing first thine in the morning down to the evening. She is a famous vlogger. Having nearly 400,000 subscribers, praising her language skills, her high social status and of course, her intimidating beauty. Many people think that she has perfect life, but they don’t know deeper behind that camera.

One day while she is editing a video. She heard the voice of her parents like arguing. So what she did is to walk to her closed door and listen to her parent’s arguments.

“What do you mean that you don’t know where did our money go?!” the voice and words of her mother filled her ears.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know!” the soaring voice of her father makes her knees to tremble.

“It’s impossible that you don’t know! Maybe you spent it on gamble or to your mistress!” As she heard those words she felt her tears running down from her eyes.

From that day she’s already expecting things to get worst. She is not wrong. Her father’s company was taken away from them his co-gambler, because of a contract he signed as a deal. Their mansion was taken away from a bank as collateral. Their expensive cars, furniture, appliances, clothes, jewelries and gadgets are sold for bargain. Their maids resigned due to the situation. Sadly, her parents got separated. Her father went to his other woman without anything to say to them. Her mother went to their province with her to start a new simple life.

As she opened her eyes, realization hit her. She is riding an ordinary bus. She felt the stickiness of her body and face. Turning her head, to the right she saw rice fields, coconut trees and the things that city don’t have.

Several questions entered her mind. So the only way to answer her questions is to ask her mother.

“Ma, what will happen if we live here?”

“Maybe we will have a simple life. Far from the full of problem we had at the city.”

“ Simple life? You know I am not used to have that simple life you’re talking about. I want the extravagant life we had.”

“I know that but, this is the life we have now.”

“Fine, but is there any internet connection there? How about a phone? When can I have one? An exclusive school?”

“Anne we don’t have an internet connection there. Phones or gadgets are not needed in that kind of place. You are going to enter to a public school.”

“WHAT?”

Upon her first step on the ground of the province, she can’t imagine herself living on that kind of place. Houses made out of woods, people wearing cheap clothes and full of dust.

“Anne, Maybelline?” said of the old woman coming out from the small house full of surprise and joy on her voice.

“Nay!” said her mother while running towards the old woman.

After a decade of no communication, finally they saw each other personally.

“Anne, this is your Lola Nita. Come, greet your Lola.”

There is hesitation while walking towards her Lola. She was hug tightly by the old woman, because of the longing to her.

“Hi Lola Nita”

“My Apo, the last time you visited here you were just a little kid. But now you are beautifully grown up.”

“Come let’s get inside. You have to meet your cousins, aunties and uncles.”

After she met her relatives, there is only one person who caught her attention, a child who can only speak her mind with his hand.

“Ate do you want to talk to Ron-Ron?” asked her other cousin.

“I would like to, but how?” she answered full of curiosity.

“I will help you. Say to me first what do you want to say to him and I will do the work. Is that okay to you?” Era answered full of excitement.

“Oh, okay. I understand it. Can you ask to him how he is?”

She saw how they communicate with each other thru their hand gestures.

“Ate, he said he is okay, but, at the same time he is sad, because her parents left him.”

“Left him? Why did they leave him?”

“We don’t know what exactly the reason is but, we conclude that it is because of his condition, Ate.”

“How could they leave their son with that condition? In this time they should be the one who support and guide him. How narrow-minded people they are?” she replied full of anger.

“Ate, actually he is not related to us. His parents are friends with Lola Nita and because of pity Lola adopted him.”

“That was shocking.”

“But for us, he is our cousin, not maybe by blood, but by heart.”

By that Era’s statement, she felt warmth touch her heart.

“Apo, come here, let’s eat our snacks.” Her Lola Nita said while standing at the door.

As she heard the word ‘eat’ she started to imagine mouth-watering foods but all she have imagined vanished when she saw boiled banana and sweet potato on the table. Her mother knew that she don’t eat foods like that. Even if she doesn’t want to eat those foods she doesn’t have any choice.

“Maybelline, what is the sudden vacation all about? Where is your husband?”

“Nay, we didn’t come here for vacation. I and Robert got separated. We lost our business. The things between us didn’t work. We are here to start a new life.”

“It’s sad to hear that. You two are very much welcome to our house. My apologies, the house is small. You know that your siblings are still living here with their families.”

“I understand, nay.”

Few months had passed. She started studying at a public school. She started to learn house hold chores. She’s starting to get close to her relatives. She wants to believe that she like these things but, in the back of her mind these things she has now are not the things she wishes for.

“Ma, I don’t want this life anymore. I am tired of making myself believe that it’s fine to have this life!” she shouted angrily at her mother.

“Anne it’s not easy to have a wealthy life.”

“But that’s what I want!”

“Anne, can’t you see what I am doing to give all your expenses? I do things that I’m capable of. I do this just for you! Yet you don’t see my hard work’s worth?”

“So now you’re blaming me because you have multiple jobs?!”

“No, what I am trying to say is to understand the situation.”

“All these things will not happen if you were a responsible wife and mother to us.”

Because of Anne’s hurtful words, Maybelline couldn’t control herself anymore but to slap her daughter. Because of Maybelline’s action one thing marked on her mind and that is her mother doesn’t love her anymore.

From that day, their mother and daughter relationship put on a rocky side. They see each other every day but, they talk often.

Few weeks again had passed, but still they have problem. No one wants to open a talk about their conflict. They maintain their pride tall. Anne seems don’t have any care to fix their problem.

One day, one shocking news made her earth shutter into pieces. Her mother got killed by a man while she’s on her way home. The things were given back to them but there is a plastic bag and inside on it is a dress for her upcoming birthday.

At the wake of her mother, she didn’t do anything but to stare at her sleeping mother while crying and holding her mother’s gift to her. Sadly her mother can’t see her wearing that dress anymore.

The time has come to their family to bid goodbye to Maybelline. Anne cannot accept the fact that she will not see her mother anymore. It’s like there is a huge stone on her chest. Guiltiness was slowly eating her. Regret fullness filled her mind.

“I should understand her. I should say to her how I love her. I should not let my luxury subjected me. This is my entire fault. I am the reason why Mama is now dead.” She said while crying at her Lola Nita’s arms.

“Apo it’s not your fault. Always remember that your mother loves you no matter what happened.” Her Lola Nita said while wiping away her Granddaughter’s tears.

“What if I didn’t start a fight with her? What if I listened to her? What if I am not greedy to wealth? What if I didn’t say to her that she is irresponsible? What if instead of doing nonsense things I am with her showing my love to her?” she said while crying harder.

“Apo, stop crying your mother doesn’t want to see you like that.”

“Mama, I Love You. I Love You.” She said her last words before drifting to sleep, because of tiredness.

Anne just woke up in her room. She again remembered her late mother and realizes how stupid she is for doing those things to her mother even if her mother did anything for her sake.

She wants to remember the things what her mother did to her by looking at her Mother’s things. When she opened a box from her Mother’s closet she saw a folded paper. Because of curiosity, she opened the paper and found out that, it is a letter addressed to her.

Dear Anne,

If you are now reading this I might not be on your side anymore. Please forgive me if didn’t say this to you personally. I am sorry if I am not a responsible mother to you. I am sorry if I wasn’t able to fight for our family. I am sorry if I can’t give all your luxuries. I wish you will still continue to live for your dreams and for me. I wish you will finish your studies even if you don’t want to study on a public school. I wish you will be successful on your chosen profession. I wish you will grow with a kind heart. I wish you will learn how to be more respectful. I wish you will still keep your faith with god. I wish that if you are going to be wife and mother someday do the things that I am not able to do. Please introduce me to your future children. Please tell them that I love them. Please take care of your Lola and cousins especially Ron-Ron he needs extra attention among the others. I wish that when the right time comes you will forgive your father. Please do these not because these are my wishes for you but do this for your own good specially the last one. I know that it is hard to do it but at least try it.

Remember that I am always here for you, still guiding and watching over you from heaven. Remember that I love you even if I don’t exist anymore. Again I LOVE YOU Your loving Mother, Maybelline

After reading the letter from her mother, she burst out crying and hugging the letter. She can’t help but to lie down at the bed and continue to cry. Because of being tired to cry she let herself to be taken away from rest.

She wiped away the tears in her cheeks when she heard her Lola Nita called her because someone is finding her. When she was already prepared, she got outside her room. To her shock, she saw a man standing to their sala. It’s been a couple of years since she saw this man. Because of her mother’s wish and her longing, she quickly ran to the man and envelops her arms for a hug.

“It been years of not seeing you.” She said shyly at the man.

“I know and I am sorry for that. I’ve heard what happened to your mother. I am sorry if I was not here to support you. I was not able to go here because of the problems I had with my woman. She doesn’t want me to go here thinking that I will leave her.”

“I understand. I forgive you for all of your mistakes, as wished by Mama and also for the relieve of my mind.” Anne said sincerely with a smile on her face.

“Thank you, Anne. I Love You.”

“I Love You Too, Papa”

THE END.

-Laura Arceo

#love #short story

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davidblaska · 4 years

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“Most Americans have lost confidence in the media to deliver the news objectively,” said the Knight Foundand chief program officer. “This is corrosive for our democracy.”

Half (49%) of all Americans think the media is very biased. — an 08-04-2020 Knight Foundation/Gallup poll.

If the New York Times was any more “woke” it would crow like a rooster. The damn thing beats you over the head with its scolding progressivism like a Mt. Horeb guidance counsellor on a state legislator. All race, all COVID-19, Never Trump.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Take last Sunday’s edition (as Henny Youngman used to say), please!

The Page One top-line headline uncovers another example of far-right extremism — in Germany. One of the “read-outs” on the bottom of the front page starts out: “As America confronts its racism …” No “alleged” for the Times! It’s FACT, not opinion!

Another [snotty quotes] “news” story unveils the racism “that lingers in medical schools.” (When the entirety of the U.S.A. is racist, in the NYTimes’ telling, why should med school be different?)

Look, Jane! Look! There’s a photograph of President Trump signing legislation surrounded by applauding witnesses of multiple races. Oh, smack! The deflating headline: “Law to reduce crack cocaine sentences no help for some inmates.” (Once again, the perfect is the enemy of the good — especially when it involves Donald Trump.)

⇒ It could very well be true that a government action does not help everyone; it is argumentative to say that any legislation can and tendentious to draw attention to the defect while downplaying the overwhelming benefit.

No sports, only social justice

The discombobulated gray lab coasts at the Werkes fled the news pages for the oasis of the sports pages. No use! Top line: a professional basketball player is quoted to say: “the better I got in sports, the worse the racism got.”

The Sunday Styles section ignored the world of decadent fashion to bash what it supposes to be white culture. “Rejecting Greek life, groups of fraternity brothers and sorority sisters work to kick their organizations off campus.” (Someone tell Madison’s inflammable prankster, Althea Bernstein.)

In desperation, the labcoats cast their microscopes on the Times’ Arts & Leisure section. Cover story demands that “the Reconciliation must be televised [to] tell the horror story of the system, draw straight lines from slavery to right now and demand the system be reformed.” (Colonel Kurtz, splashing water on his bald head: “The Horror!”)

Not to be outdone, its Sunday magazine quotes Ben & Jerry “on selling ice cream and social change.”

“There wasn’t any other business talking about dismantling white supremacy.”

Never Trump infomercial

But none of this approaches a full, two-page spread bashing Trump with cutting-edge graphic artistry. Employing quick bites for the attention deficit (“Channel-surfing his way through the presidency.”) A variety of brief sidebars: “The Presidential Ego.” (It’s yuge!) “The president and the truth.” (Not very.) and “Things [John] Bolton claims people said to him.” (Never flattering.)

Of course, this unreported Biden political campaign contribution quotes (multiple times) disgraced former FBI director Jim Comey (still a hero on the Left). One of which equates the President with a Mafia boss.

That does not even get us to the editorial page where even the token “conservatives” like Bret Stephens are Never Trump. (We do have some sympathy.)

‘Fawning and feeble’

The distrust in the news media revealed by the public opinion poll with which we began this blogge “seems to shock many observers in the media but I do not know why,” observes law professor Jonathan Turley.

“Many in the [news] media has spent years in openly shaping the news to resist Donald Trump — just as some in the conservative media have done so in his defense. The New York Times recently to apologize for publishing a dissenting view of the protests by the U.S. Senator.”

Turley observes that “many news outlets seem to be actively working for the election of Joe Biden. This includes softball interviews that are so fawning and feeble that they are cringeworthy.”

Blaska’s Bottom Line: At least no lies about the “peaceful protests” in Portland. This Sunday.

What local newscast, print source do YOU trust?

All the news that’s fit to spin “Most Americans have lost confidence in the media to deliver the news objectively,” said the Knight Foundand chief program officer.

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smartoutlets-net · 5 years

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The Best Smart Plugs of 2019

Gabe: Hey folks, this is Gabe at Security Baron. In today's world, you can turn almost any electrical appliance into a connected device using a Smart Plug. Today, we're checking out our three best Smart Plugs. [background music] Gabe: In today's Best Smart Plugs video, I'm going to go for my favorite overall Smart Plug. My favorite to use is Google Home, and my favorite to use is with Amazon Alexa. If you want to see a full written review on any of these Smart Plugs, go check it out at securitybaron.com. [background music] Gabe: I want to kick off today's best Smart Plugs video talking about my overall favorite Smart Plug, the AUKEY. The AUKEY connects to your WiFi, allowing you to remotely control your appliances. It can accept any appliance that goes up to 1,800 watts. One thing to note about the actual AUKEY itself is its thin design, allowing you to stack it in that wall outlet, giving you tons of space for whatever you would like to do. You look at the thin, simple design of the AUKEY, it's all-white aesthetic, it's no-frills cardboard box. Honestly, that belies the host of features underneath. The two biggest ones, of course, with any Smart Plug, are scenes and schedules. When you set up a schedule, it does exactly that. It allows you to know when your AUKEY is on and off. You can set it up for specific things that you needed to do. Scenes are a little bit more complicated. This allows you to have groups of appliances working in conjunction. If you have multiple AUKEY Smart Plugs, you can have them all set up to, example, turn on all your air conditioners in your apartment at the same time. On top of that, you can integrate it with IFTTT, allowing for some pretty sweet home automations, and add on Amazon Alexa and Google Assistant, so you have voice control capabilities within your home. Beyond just looking at the physical elements and capacities of the AUKEY Smart Plug, we have to look at the mobile application, AUKEY Home, because this is where you're going to be doing all your setting up of those scenes and schedules, and voice integration. You want to make sure it's an intuitive experience so that when you're actually using your now-connected devices, it's smooth and consistent. Fortunately, AUKEY is knocking it out of the park here with a 4.5 in the Apple App Store, and a 4 in the Google Play Store. We don't have to worry about dealing with buggy mobile application concerns. Now, I know what you're thinking, you're saying, "Gabe, what's the catch? What's the price?" I'll tell you this. AUKEY Smart Plug gives you two for $27.99. Honestly, that might be the price you pay for just one of its competitors. There's a great value in the AUKEY Smart Plug. That's why I have it picked as my best overall Smart Plug. [background music] Gabe: Hold on. I hope you're enjoying today's look at the best Smart Plugs. If you want to be kept up-to-date on the newest in Smart Plugs, Smart Bulbs, and Smart Home Security, subscribe to the Security Baron channel. We're dropping new content weekly. Let's get back to the video. [music] Gabe: The next category I want to jump into is the best Smart Plug for Google Home. Here, I'm going to say something very controversial. I'm giving it to the Wemo Insight Switch. I understand that in 2018, Belkin had a host of issues when it comes to connectivity with Google Home. Since they fixed it, our experience with the Wemo Insight Switch has been very positive. In fact, when it comes to connectivity and using Google Home, it's one of the top performers, overall, when it comes to Smart Plugs. It'll also work with Amazon Alexa, Apple HomeKit, and IFTTT. Basically, no matter which ecosystem you find yourself in, it'll work for you. It also comes with a host of other features that one typically expects from a Smart Plug. Like the ability to set up schedules and set up scenes, which it calls rules. On top of that, it gives you the ability to view your daily energy usage, daily or even weekly. You can know exactly how much power you're using to be a little bit more sustainable. It has a Home and Away mode which is pretty fun, because it serves to protect your home. It randomizes appliances going on and off to give the impression that you're actually at home, when you can be far, far away. Finally, you have a Sunrise and Sunset mode, so you can make sure that that coffee is ready as soon as the rooster crows. Overall, coming in at around $50, it's definitely on the pricier side. Given its advanced feature set and smart home integrations, you can see why we chose it as our best Smart Plug for Google Home. [music] Gabe: The final category we're going to jump into today is the best Smart Plug for Amazon Alexa. For us, it's the TP-Link Smart WiFi Plug Mini. Our experience setting up, connecting, and using this particular plug was really easy, really smooth. We can just name our Smart Plug something like AC, sit back on our couch, realize we're getting hot, and say, "Alexa, turn on the AC." Boom, we're blasted with that nice, cool breeze. Along with Amazon Alexa, you do have the ability to have it work with Google Assistant, Nest, IFTTT. No matter which smart ecosystem you're a part of, you can probably have all your bases covered with this plug. Along with that, you get your general feature set, the ability to set up schedules, the ability to set up the Scenes, even on Away mode to have things on so people feel like you're home, even when you're far away on vacation. It has a highly rated app, called Kasa, that is loved by both iPhone and Android users, for its smooth, consistent, intuitive, overall experience. That's not even the kicker. The kicker is that it costs $17.99 for the TP-Link Smart WiFi Plug Mini. It's not going to break the bank and give you that deep feature set. This is why we give it our top Smart Plug designation for Amazon Alexa. [music] Gabe: That concludes our look at the Best Smart Plugs. If you appreciated today's video, give us a Like and hit that Subscribe button. As always, this is Gabe at Security Baron. Be secure.

https://youtu.be/vsUWfiKwXmk

#smart outlet #outlet

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thecoroutfitters · 6 years

Link

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another article on chickens from R. Ann Parris to The Prepper Journal. If you have information for Preppers that you would like to share then enter into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies!

Chickens are some of the most popular livestock worldwide, modern backyard enthusiasts to sustenance-level farms from China to the Balkans. There’s good reason. They’re economical, versatile on the table, and multi-function laborers. Most chickens have pretty short “working” lives, though, which means we need to replace them regularly.

(Full disclosure: I don’t actually like chickens, but they’re essential to my production capabilities and I respect them as such.)

Breeding capability builds our resilience against the personal and short-term disasters as well as the nation-shaking and world-altering crises. A good rooster and reliable broody hen are a gold mine in these days of ordering chicks.

Those broodies are worth identifying, especially. They can save us time, electricity, and effort, and even increase the efficiency of our other poultry. Watching for some key traits in our hens, both good and bad, can maximize our flock’s ease and success.

I’m specifically talking about chickens, but many factors also apply to other poultry, and the behavioral aspects apply to the other super-efficient, inexpensive, every-prepper, apartment to acreage meat source: rabbits.

*Not everybody who can/will shoot a person or a wild animal is capable of harvesting something they raised. Start small and make sure you can actually control the population before you go big or breed more.

Broodiness

Broodiness is basically when a hen is ready and willing to sit a nest. I have never successfully induced broodiness. If a hen doesn’t want kids right now, game over. Maybe somebody is managing, but don’t waste too much time trying on this one.

See, most of the suggestions miss a big factor: Successful mothers are usually older hens, 3+ years. The best are typically upper-echelon birds hitting 4-6 years old.

Because laying decreases significantly every year, a lot of people have already replaced hens by then, leaving mostly young birds. It’s expecting a toddler-teen to focus, earn, budget, and shop like a 30-40-year-old.

That said, do use breed reviews to help anticipate broodiness expectations.

If you want a laying flock to periodically reproduce or serve as surrogates, avoid breeds listed as “low” and “no/almost never” for broodiness.

If we want 3+ clutches annually, we might maintain a couple keepers from breeds listed as “high/yes, often broody”, but try to go with breeds that break off broodiness easier, not breeds listed as persistent (read: constantly, stubbornly broody).

For fewer over-broody frustrations but periodic clutches from our layers, choose a “moderate/occasionally broody” breed.

Laying Boxes

Most of us expect our hens to share laying boxes. That can be a problem for brooding. If a hen shows signs of being inclined but isn’t sitting the eggs we’ve left, see if she’s getting displaced by other hens.

If so, that box is too popular. You need more boxes, to try moving her and her clutch to a different box, or relocating her box and replacing it for the other hens.

*Bonus tidbit: You may need extra boxes even with only 6-12 birds in non-brooding daily layer life, although you should be able to have a minimum of 2-4 layers using each box. — If you’re having problems, check the placements but start watching for personality traits and your own habits. There’s usually a problem, and it’s usually our fault or a particular animal or two with unacceptable behavioral issues.

Insufficient boxes can also be responsible for full and partial-clutch abandonment (she started sitting, then abandoned her eggs).

Check the hen and flock for battle signs, although roosters are rough lovers. She’s a sitting target on the nest, so he may actually be the problem. If it’s not him, she’s fighting off other hens for her nest, and may eventually give up or lose.

*Bonus tidbit: Hens with “love torn” back feathers are actually the indicator for most-likely-fertilized eggs.

Mean Ol’ Bitty

A hen should not resist being nudged out of the box daily. Nor should you be pecked over every egg. That’s cause to assess how calm the coop is at collection time (checking for problematic human habits) and then send problem birds to the glass-jar coop in the pantry.

Since our birds are calm, cool, and cooperative, we can recognize a hen exhibiting broody behaviors: staring daggers as soon as you appear, racing from feed/calcium/water to occupy the box before you get there, becoming increasingly unwilling to leave the box while you collect, fanning out feathers, pecking your shoe, snatching your sleeve, trying to squeeze through the lift in back-access boxes to follow her egg(s), and-or trying to wedge into the collection basket or hovering over it.

*Bonus tidbit: Also watch for hens laying near their favorite box(es) but not in them. Sometimes they can’t get in to lay because a broody is defending it.

Those behaviors are – for this out-of-character, slow-ramping (3-8 days), and temporary behavioral change – acceptable.

So long as they’re not excessive.

We are not going to screw with this hen often, but we are likely to want in there.

We need to add, crayon (track), and candle (check the contents of) eggs. We may want to get our hands on the hen (briefly and noninvasively) to feel under-the-feather condition.

In some cases, we may need to relocate our hen and her clutch/box (extreme weather, coop companions, brooder or grow-out pens, changing conditions that affect nest safety).

We’re usually going to want to get our hands on the chicks somewhere through their “raptor” stage at least once or twice, even if we’re not sexing or weighing them and don’t handle/socialize our birds.

We need to be able to do this without the stress that excessive guarding creates within the flock and her clutch. Excessive guarding can also be contagious to the flock and chicks, and carry over to her post-clutch conduct.

We might let an over-aggressive bitty raise this clutch (be aware: the genetic inclination is there if it’s her chicks). We wouldn’t indulge her broodiness again, though, and she’s looking hard at the butcher-paper poncho.

(Apply that to rabbits and other livestock, too. There’s a line mothers need to walk between enough and excess.)

Successful Broody Traits

On top of her personality, a broody hen needs to check a few boxes successfully, and a few more if we’re not hand-rearing the chicks or she’s raising them inside a flock.

One, and it might seem obvious, but she needs to eat.

Two, she needs to be lickety-splickety, and then get back to the clutch.

(Psst … We usually need to feed her, not expect her to free-range forage.)

Some hens are easily distracted or not dedicated, and will leave a clutch too long. Flip side, some barely budge at all. We may need to provide her with some extra tidbits, or keep feed and water closer.

Good mothers of most species lose condition, but if she loses too much, it may be months before she recovers enough to lay again after her brood.

Also seemingly obvious: She needs to sit her nest for the 12-60 hours it takes all the eggs to hatch.

Flaky hens will sometimes only sit the first few chicks, then abandon the rest. It’s especially frustrating to find cool, wasted eggs that were abandoned half-cracked and chicks that have gone hypothermic. Check them frequently when hatching starts.

Some young hens are like any other new mother, and just don’t get it yet.

We may be able to finish the hatching this time, but if she leaves early a 2nd-3rd time, we need to not indulge her broodiness anymore (and weigh feed-productivity against a glass-jar coop).

Unless we’re taking the chicks away to raise and only wanted the non-electric incubator, our broody hen needs to walk another balanced line: showing her fluffy-fuzzies how to eat and drink, but keeping the late-cracking pips and wet peepers warm enough.

This is another one where a food-water station near the box can make a difference.

If she’s keeping her peepers, the bitty walks that narrow aggression line again: Being peck-happy enough to protect her chicks from other barnyard residents, but not being a feathered Terminator intent on keeping everything 50’ away from the shed.

*Chickens are brutal. Do let her keep other birds off the chicks.

I prefer flock-raised clutches, but it’s not always possible. Big-gap fencing, small hawks/big crows, free-range factors, and the broody spending too much time guarding can make it unfeasible.

*Watch for a particular bird harassing her/them; problem chickens get the Ziploc poncho.

Especially if we have a big, multiple-breed, or mixed flock, we’re likely to need a brooder pen. Usually multiple hens can share them, especially if the nests are within 2-4 weeks of each other.

Once they’re separated, we’re going to have to be careful with introductions/reintroduction’s to the flock.

Surrogates

While my preferred birds will raise guineafowl, quail, turkey, and waterfowl, I for-sure want hens that will incubate them.

Sometimes we can add 3-4 eggs at a time, so she has the 10-20 she can cover in just a couple days. Sometimes we can add a full dozen at once. Sometimes it has to be slower, adding 1-2 eggs at a time to the ones she’s laying.

Some will roll significantly different-sized eggs out of the nest. I don’t love it, but it’s not a glass-coop or never-again offense to me.

A workaround is swapping for her eggs. Sometimes we’re stuck with 1:1 egg replacement, but usually we can match the size/mass of what she had – 2-3 hen eggs for 3-6 quail eggs or 1-2 goose or turkey eggs.

*Hen size determines her max egg count. Chickens cannot fit over as many goose or turkey eggs/chicks as they would their own.

Some hens will take on not only foreign eggs, but live chicks. Some will accept even 7-10-day-old chicks into their clutch.

It’s a rarer hen that will let you add already-hatched other-species to her own chicks, but they’re out there. (Some bitties would happily sit a half-grown emu.)

If you’re going to lose a clutch anyway (power/heat light out, mother overwhelmed or killed), give it a shot but brace for carnage. The earlier you can add them, the better.

I love the surrogate trait, but I don’t want hens too crazy with their adoptions. Too-keen birds trying to steal eggs or chicks are too disruptive, especially in smaller flocks.

It can result in fights, serious injuries, production-stoppage (stress), broken eggs, and mangled, run-over chicks.

We spent 5+ weeks (minimum) doing without a layer’s production to get those young birds. Heaven forbid they be from slow-laying, low-production game birds. The problem hen heads to Camp Kettle.

Broody Birds

Reproducing our flocks takes some pre-planning and know-how, but it increases our resilience to everything from personal disasters to worldwide crisis.

Reliable, versatile broody hens further increase our capabilities, even beyond small (but devastating) crises like outages/gennie failure and burned-out incubators and brood lights. They improve the efficiency of all our poultry.

Older, slower-laying chickens can raise clutches for higher-yielding young hens, maximizing each’s strongpoints and minimalizing each’s inherent age weaknesses.

Chicken surrogates incubating slower-laying game bird eggs gets those hens back to laying faster, too.

They also give us a canny bird to raise clutches for species that are mortally stupid mothers.

However, excessive broodiness is a problem akin to clutch abandonment and fake broodiness, and there are other broody behaviors we want to remove from our bloodlines. It can be hard for some keepers, but it’ll give us a more peaceful and productive flock in the long run.

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caredogstips · 7 years

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6 Iconic Works Of Art With Brutal Insults Hidden In Them

We all take our inessential little revenges where we can. If someone cuts you off in commerce, you give them the thumb. If one of your co-workers ingest your lunch, you pee in the coffee maker. If someone talks at the movies, you follow them residence, dress like a comedian, and shriek “their childrens” awake each night for the rest of “peoples lives”. But not everyone stops events so reasonable. Here are masters who held onto enmities so long and so hard that their petty avenge became commemorated in their work.

# 6. Harry Potter Is Full Of J.K. Rowling’s Secret Insults

We’re at a culture time where anyone who needs Harry Potter explained to them is clearly a robot trying to gain sentience. So we’re hop-skip the purpose of explaining who Harry Potter is. Better luck next time, robot. For the rest of you, it turns out that J.K. Rowling realise it a habit to turn real beings from her life into attributes in her works, and for shifting those personas into avenge. For instance, when Stephen Fry was hired to narrate the first audio journal, he was told that a sequel was already in the works. Fry commended this Rowling person whom he’d only met with, “Good for you.” She took it as an offend and never forgot it. It got petty.

When registering the book, Fry had fus adding the words “pocketed it.” Through a bizarre lecture hindrance, it always came out as “pocketeded it.” So he called her up and would like to know whether he could change it. Rowling afforded a hard no. And then, through sheer coincidence , the phrase “pocketed it, ” appeared in the next four Harry Potter notebooks. That’s how ridiculous “womens issues” was willing to get for the tiniest quantity of revenge.

Which introduces us to the character of Gilderoy Lockhart, the blowhard educator from Chamber Of Secrets . He was based on a humanity Rowling knew and reviled, who was constantly bragging about acts that almost certainly never happened. So she made him a persona in her work who virtually facilitates Magic Hitler rise to power and get his psyche mopped. Then, after publicly announcing that this shithead was based on a real guy, Rowling responded, “Don’t annoy … he will never in a million years dream that he is Gilderoy Lockhart.” So everyone who has ever gratified J.K. Rowling, take note: There’s a decent hazard she thinks you’re a stupid asshole.

Based on a real stupid asshole .

Another character, Harry’s vile Aunt Marge, was based on one of Rowling’s family members who “liked dogs more than people.” But there’s one character who rises above all others in the annals of hated Harry Potter Characters. The one character whom every fan agrees is the most evil and disliked. No , not Voldemort. Not Lockhart. Not even the sniveling Wormtail.

It’s Dolores Umbridge. Her identify literally signifies “annoyance and offense.”

You goddamn bitch .

If you watched the movies, you might recollect Umbridge as the short one dressed in all-pink who realise Harry write with a pencil that carves characters into his tissue. Seemed a little bit much, right? Well, she was based on a educator Rowling knew whom she described as someone she “disliked deeply on sight.” The impression was mutual, and Rowling described her style as being “appropriate to a girl of three.”

Imagine you’re a coach trying the very best to fertilize young judgments. One of your students( though not your favourite) has already become the most successful writer since God. Excited, you open one of her volumes and find someone who’s clearly you, written as a dimwitted maid of immoralities garmented for a children’s tea party. Oh well, you predict she never forgave you for those imprisonments …

“That was just the once, you crybaby.”

… and then later in the book, your reputation is dragged into the woods by centaurs — a scene which we’re almost certain implies that they then raped her.( That centaurs abuse human girls is an essential part of the lore around them. For speciman, the centaur Nessus was killed while trying to rape a human lady .) Yeah, that’s how freaking nighttime this gets. J.K. Rowling didn’t get along with one of her coaches, so she had the teach get( apparently) sexually contravened by horse-men in a children’s volume. Then she announces to the world that this sorceres get bayoneted in every flaw by centaur rooster is based on a real party. “Not to * wink !* name any refers, but it was one of my teachers, and here’s job descriptions! “

“Does she have teenagers? They just watched Stand-In Mommy lose all hope and glory. Oh glee! ”

So if you ever had an proof with J.K. Rowling, give the books another speak. There’s a good chance a goblin based on you has been torn apart by unicorns for the amusement of children.

# 5. Muslim Street Artists Bash Homeland … On Homeland

Homeland is a testify with so many absurd constructions that it’s more of a practical joke on the observer than a floor. But that’s not why it’s contentious. It’s about CIA agents contending Islamic terrorism, and it’s been called everything from insulting and humiliating to borderline racist. Basically, the appearance treats controversial issues the same way Donald Trump might list his favorite Mexicans — it’s not quite “bigoted, ” but it’s definitely uncomfortable.

So some of Homeland ‘s detractors decided to speak out against the reveal from inside the show itself. One occurrence took place in a Syrian refugee camp. Because the writers are all lily-white Americans with little-to-no Syrian refugee camp suffer, they decided to let some individuals who knew Arabic embellish the laid with graffiti. You possibly discover where this is going. They wrote smart-ass words everywhere.

This suggests ” Homeland is watermelon, ” which is meaner than it resonates in Arabic .

The three masters hired were Don Karl, Heba Amin, and Caram Kapp, and they felt that the establish reached Arabs and Muslims feel disliked and helped shape negative minds. So they said so, in Arabic, right in front of the producers’ non-Arabic-speaking faces.

“This show does not represent the view of the artists.”

The entire place seems a bit obvious in hindsight. Homeland is no other indicate on Tv that hires Middle-Eastern performers, and most of them either play-act suicide bombers or regular grinders. So when the same evidence hires Middle-Eastern set designers and tells them to make it super Arab-y , no one should be surprised if they respond by trolling you.

Actual translation: ” Homeland is racist.” Oh, and “NO MICKEY MOUSE.”

# 4. The God-We-Wish-It-Were-True Story Of “The Cask Of Amontillado”

“The Cask Of Amontillado” is one of Edgar Allan Poe’s most well known toils. It’s about a being who gets retaliate on a acquaintance by pulling him underground with wine and then entombing him alive. He leaves “the mens” chained to a wall to die, mocking the man’s shriekings for blessing. A few vague details are given, but it’s never become clear to the reader what injustice invigorated the assassination. Even for Poe, it was a bit dark.

“Once you’re dead, I’m giving your body the teabagging of Amontillado.”

And it all started because another novelist was sort of a douche.

Like all scribes, Edgar Allan Poe had a wonderful sexuality life, great “hairs-breadth”, all the money in “the worlds”, and countless antagonists. One of them was a scribe mentioned Thomas Dunn English. The two detested one another, and Thomas wrote a parody of Poe into one of his tales: a reference appointed Marmaduke Hammerhead who writes a legend called “The Black Crow, ” acts crazy, and is drunk all the time.

Poe didn’t think it was cute. He registered a suit against the working paper English worked for, and acquired. Still unsatisfied, Poe decided to placed him into a narrative. And in that legend, he garmented “the mens” like a jester, walled him up in a dungeon, and tell madness and famine race to destroy him. In … in fiction! Exclusively in fiction.

This was his response to being announced crazy .

As you might have approximated, the poorest of the poor drink dumb “whos got” lay alive in “The Cask Of Amontillado” was based on English. So if you had to read the tale in high school and none of you could figure out what the hell the guy did to deserve such a dark fate , now you know. He gently taunted Edgar Allan Poe. When Poe kills you in a legend, he dresses you like a buffoon and lets you whimper for their own lives alone in the blackness. As opposed to doing you in with the whimsy of a centaur penis.

# 3. Willow Swerved Multiple Movie Critics Into Villains

Though you put your heart and soul into a work of art, there will always be a critic there to tell you it sucks. It happens no matter how great your artistry happens to be, but it happens a lot if your prowes — like Willow — kind of sucks.

Maybe in a preemptive strike against their inevitable offenses, or maybe as revenge for past commentaries, George Lucas mentioned two of the villains in Willow after film reviewers. The first was General Kael, a skull-headed warlord reputation after Pauline Kael, who had called Star Wars an tired circus with no psychological clutch. Well fuck you, Pauline, you’re an evil skeleton now. In Willow .

“You look hopelessly cool and impossibly badass. Aren’t you ashamed? ”

And this wasn’t the only period this happened to Kael. The same year Willow “re coming out”, an analog of her also appeared in the Dirty Harry movie The Dead Pool . Apparently, the filmmakers still hadn’t forgiven her for calling Dirty Harry “fascist, pro-violence, pro-gun, republican nuttery scrap.” So they based a reputation on her, and then had that character get brutally jabbed to demise. That’ll picture her who’s pro-violence!

“I know what you’re deliberation: six gaping spurting curves, or only five? ”

You might believe that George Lucas was outdone, since his insult was simply appointing some guy “Kael, ” while Dirty Harry exited all-out and killer her. Perhaps you’re right. But wait until you hear about the other reviewers who took a smack in Willow . This one is brutal .

At the end of Willow , a two-headed fire-breathing dragon shows. George knew the dragon could be more than a fantastic culminating to history’s greatest film — it was his chance to get revenge for every mean happen Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert had ever said about his movies. Those guys would rue the day they traversed the artistic juggernaut of George Lucas!

He identified the dragon Eborsisk.

“We grant it two deformed-looking whale dicks up.”

Oh, shit! Can you envisage what Siskel and Ebert must have visualized when they received information that !? With one reputation( which is never even pronounce aloud ), Lucas killed them both and plummeted the mic. Eborsisk! That’s like both their reputations in one! It was the snap discover of all the countries … Eborsisk. The instant some supplementary information revealed that the dragon’s reputation was Eborsisk, “the worlds” knew never to doubt George Lucas’ filmmaking abilities again.

# 2. The Symbolic Middle Finger In The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn

The writer Sir Walter Scott isn’t exactly a household name, but there’s a respectable opportunity you’re familiar with some of his effort, like Ivanhoe and Rob Roy . Regrettably for him, the most famous journal in which his name sounds is The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn . And that’s because Mark Twain goddamn detested Walter Scott.

Even more than he hates you for misrepresenting him on Facebook .

Twain thought that Scott’s writing romanticized battle, and was worried that young men were reading about the magnificences of engagement and ranging off to combat. He felt that Scott’s novels were to blame for much of the “windy humbuggeries” of the South, which gave rise to concepts like duels or even the Civil War itself. He felt that Scott’s novels continued the delusion that Southerners were noble heroes and gentlemen, despite their participation in brutal frontier justice and the owning of other humans. So Twain are determined to immortalize his antagonism of Sir Walter Scott in art.

If you don’t recall the patch of Huck Finn , it’s about a runaway boy and an escaped slave traveling down the Mississippi River, and the language hasn’t aged well. What you may have never observed was an aesthetic offend to Scott encoded into their passage. In the tale, Twain named a steamboat after the object of his condescension; the Walter Scott is carried away by a strong present and wrecked against some rocks.

“The regained wood was then turned into an outhouse which was consistently full of shit.”

It was meant to symbolize the path the Old South rode along on Scott’s strong back toward an out-of-control catastrophe( the Civil War ). It’s a little bit more subtle than embed someone alive or probing them with a centaur, but it translates to the same act: “Fuck you, Sir Walter Scott.”

# 1. DC And Marvel Piss On Their Movie

In its very first trailer, Man Of Steel boasted a quote from Grant Morrison’s All-Star Superman . This was strange chiefly because All-Star Superman is considered one of the greatest Superman floors ever told, and Man Of Steel was a 150 -minute tantrum hurled by stupid room juveniles. Besides having a laser-eyed alien as the prime reference, they could not be more different. In Man Of Steel , Superman clicks cervixes and watches fathers succumb. In All-Star Superman , he is infallible and benevolent. He’s nearly drew as God.

It’s not even that subtle about it .

Morrison shovels the idea of Superman being a perfect compounding of every human ideal. So he was understandably ticked off that the matter is “gritty” movie in which Superman is a petty thug exploited a quotation from his duty. But since he wrote Action Comics , Superman’s flagship title, it was likely wasn’t appropriate for him to come out and publicly talk shit about the movie. Instead, he carefully knit all that shit-talking into a Superman story.

In a long, mind-bending narration that obligates Memento look like Blue’s Clues , Morrison acquainted a soul called Super-Doomsday.

We’re sure that swastika-looking “S” was purely coincidental .

It’s created by scientists attempting to make a pure and inspirational person, but in their hopelessnes, they sold him off to “owners corporations” which moved him into “a violent, disturbed, faceless anti-hero … a global marketing icon .“

Sound familiar?

“Oh, I get it. You’re like a metapho-AARRRGH! LASER BEAMS !!! ”

Superman eventually uncovers him and uncover a distorted half-Superman/ half-Doomsday — which is eerily same to the form of Doomsday’s origin in the upcoming Batman v. Superman .

“Ugh. Doomsday is some Kryptonian DNA with demon shit attached? What deplorable monster would green-light that project !? ”

Morrison got extremely heavy-handed as he wrote. The commercialized Superman is powered by “a simple corporate directive: kill the competition.” And if that wasn’t obvious enough, the large-scale bad behind Super-Doomsday( an imp from the fifth facet) find right out and explains it TAGEND Able to pinch limitless account in a single body …

“There’s blood on your princely pinnacle. A stain that can never come out. The mark of betrayal and exploitation … Your “S” a dollar sign! ” It almost sounds like he’s referencing a very concrete occurrence. Hmm … wonder what it could be?

“Hkk! This … testifies a fundamental misinterpret … hkk! … of 80 years of reference developing! ”

While on the subject of literary superhero retaliation, Marvel had a similar rebuttal to a bad movie in the sheets of Fantastic Four . In one issue, groupings of people birthing a strong resemblance to the stars of the appalling, frightful Fantastic Four reboot be standing talking about a movie that they worked on with a director referred “Trang.” “Its probably” a including references to FF chairman Josh Trank, but it’s so deeply unclever that it virtually seems impossible.

Turning that “4” on his shirt into four middle fingers would’ve been wittier . And then this happens TAGEND

“We had to level the whole metropoli in case they wanted to threw a reboot.”

That’s it — over the course of three boards, Marvel wordlessly explosion them. It’s the kind of hamfisted theme that makes you long for the intricacy of a fifth-dimensional pixie appearing to explain the laugh. Or, of course, the sophisticated nuance of J.K. Rowling’s unwanted centaur cocks.

Always be category, because you never know when you’ll end up a laugh in someone else’s innovation. Witness more of that in 6 Brilliant Insults Hidden In Video Games As Easter Eggs and 6 Famous Works Of Art You Didn’t Know Were Vicious Insults .