#either keep it alive by planting it freeze it or dehydrate it

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Any further tips/advice for freezing veggies? Or any kinds of dish that are good for frozen veg that loose their usual texture (like celery, potatoes etc)?

Basically, cut and clean them to the size you will want in the final dish, since they'll be a bitch to try to cut once freezing makes them soft. For anything juicy, spread it out to freeze first so it doesn't all stick together in one chunk, or portion it into the servings you want to take it out in.

[When I get a camera cord, remind me to photograph my freezer stash, I have mixed potatoes, cabbage, celery and some other things in there now waiting on doing a duck roast,]

And honestly I haven't noticed much loss of texture after cooking. Unless you are used to very lightly steamed celery, the difference in texture there, as example, isn't notable. I don't use celery in stir fry, for example, because I don't eat stir-fry, but I use it in sauces and soups or in tiny bits in stuffing for poultry, so there's no difference there.

If it's the kind of thing that browns you can try tossing it in vinegar or lemon juice but honestly I don't care much about the look of my potatoes or whatever oxidizing slightly.

Pasta sauce and soups, or sauce put put on rice, curry etc.. is a good use for bits of frozen veg.

Really any dish where they normally get cooked a lot in with other things or fluids of any kind. Even tossed into meat pies I haven't notice a difference. It seems scary when they're raw because they seem weirdly soft like if they went bad, but it's because the water in their cells has burst out, much like it would with cooking anyway.

You can puree onion and garlic or herbs instead of having to cut it and make ice-cubes with it, and toss them in a bag, or even pre-caramelize all the onions and then make ice cubes of them to take out one at a time.

And potatoes, potatoes you don't freeze after cooking into a dish, you freeze them pre cut into either chunks for boiling, fries, wedges or shreds, freeze them, and when they come out you put them in whatever you would normally, like boiling them to make mashed potatoes, or mixing them into hash or latkes... It's like how you can get bags of frozen french fries and they bake or deep fry like fresh. I would not pre-make mashed potatoes necessarily because the other ingredients might separate oddly, unless I was making perogis to freeze for later or something. But freezing can even help get out extra water so they're easy to drain and dry or squeeze out for frying or adding to batter.

The goal isn't to necessarily find something to batch cook, it's to just get them cut up in a usable state and in the freezer with as little work as possible before they spoil. Deal with actual meal planning later as a whole separate process.

Pre-shredding carrots can mean having shred carrot to add to things easily, like cakes, tomato sauces, meat or vegetable pies, soups potato hash, ect, but it might help to freeze it spread out on a tray so it all doesn't stick together in a lump, or ice cube tray it, and then bag it, or -alternately- dehydrate carrots in a dehydrator in thin slices for soups. Dehydrated carrot is shelf stable a long time but if you freeze it dehydrated they last indefinitely, which can help make use of those huge bags of big cheap carrots that go on.

I'm not big on eating vegetables raw or half raw due to digestive sensitivities, and boiling or baking them makes them way softer than freezing does anyway. It isn't going to give you something lightly roasted or steamed, but it's better than throwing them out.

If you want to get clever about it keep track of how you cut up various veg for various meals and settle on 1-2 sized you are okay with them being in a variety of things and go with that.

The main thing is to predict to some degree what you'll want to make, but the benefit is being able to just reach into the freezer and grab pre cut veg. I like to grab out a pinch of frozen onion slices one meal at a time, rather than having an onion to work through in the fridge.

And if you are really into soups, you can actually puree tomatoes, cucumber and even lettuce that's about to go off, just clean it up and blend it, and then add it to soup stocks and stews and sauces, where it won't add much to the texture, but it'll add in those nutrients you would have missed from throwing them out instead. Most veggies that turn to utter mush when frozen can be blended and used for soups and sauces so long as you are at peace with them not adding any texture, and looking like goop or a block of coloured ice coming out of the bag.

Just make sure you clean and cut them like you would for meal prep first. You will NOT be able to clean and cut them properly -after- freezing, so you can't just shove them in there thinking you'll deal with any of the prep later, you have to do it first.

Personally, I batch prepare veggies this way into freezer bags before winter and stock up my box freezers with them, that way I have veggies all winter that are nearly fresh. I can just reach in and grab pre-cut peppers, onions and mushrooms to toss into a meal.

It's kind of easier to batch process like 10+ bell peppers at once and not worry about any other meal prep and then just have them for later, as example, and you can buy the bulk packages of stuff that's on sale because it's about to go off. It ends up saving money, sure but also means you are eating a more well rounded diet because you end up with this selection of veggies to just grab and toss in to anything on a whim... That aren't going bad.

You can buy enough corn on the cob to feed a big family, when it's cheap or on sale, and then just defrost one or two at a time for yourself.

Frozen ginger gets soft enough that you can squeeze out all the juice with a garlic press and leave behind the stringy bits, so if you cut it into 1/2-1inch chunks it can be good for that, and then you can take the crushed bit and brew it in a cup of tea, or soup stock... just rinse the ginger off before freezing it.

I also buy huge cuts of meat when they are on cheap, portion them myself and freeze them for later, so basically any meal just becomes taking out your pre-portioned ingredients and doing the actual cooking part with about 0 food waste. I also take the bones and fat off of meat I am cooking and freeze that separately for soup later, or frying or baking etc. Bones are a mash of bits by the time I am throwing out the remains.

Have leftovers you don't want to eat immediately in the following day? Frozen for later! next time you are hungry and don't want to cook you just toss that boy in a baking dish, bam! No food waste.

And when a whole bunch of something is about to go off, you don't have to stand there trying to figure out what you want to cook in the next 3 days that's going to use up 20 potatoes, you just cut them up and put the pause button on them.

If you don't have a box freezer, they are typically sold for 100$ second hand on facebook or kijiji and are a good one time investment when a tax cheque comes in.

Just make sure you are actually using the frozen food. You can't be thinking of it as less good than fresh or harder to make use of, because if you avoid using it and just keep buying more, you are going to run out of space and end up with freezers full of food you aren't eating. Get comfortable reaching for portions of frozen vegetables to add into things, and shop your freezers when you are getting ready to cook meals. [Pinch of bell peppers? Don't mind if I do! It's like a spice rack of vegetable add-ins now! Peruse.]

The last tip I have is to not buy a bunch of stuff to do this with all at once thinking you will have the spoons to do a week of meal prep with it all. Space it out. Buy the big bag of onions one trip, and get most of them frozen before you worry about grabbing a big bag of apples or potatoes, buy cabbage and celery the next trip and cut up most of those to freeze when you get home, or in the following days. Whatever is about to go bad, if it comes to that, just clean it up cut it and freeze it. or prep the whole things when you get to the meal you bought some of it for, depending on what it is, and freeze what you don't use.

Before long you'll have a stash of basically everything you use on hand. Then you can get pickier about waiting to buy things until they are on sale when you can. Like I buy butter on sale only and keep it frozen, but I also buy raw cranberries once a year at Christmas for 2$ or less a bag and just rinse and freeze the whole bags [they have holes int he bags for air flow]. I buy pumpkins for sale -after- halloween and cut them into quarters, bake the quarters so they are squishy, fold them flat into freezer bags, and then have a quarter pumpkin to use in pies or whatever I want. You get pumpkins for like a dollar, so you get each bag of frozen pumpkin for 25 cents [I have known people who do this -after- carving them for Halloween, if they aren't outside, just rinse bake and freeze them for food]. They have a sale rack sometimes of food that's about to go off that's all been bagged up together and discounted, and that is your friend if you are taking home one thing at a time and actually using it.

Frozen apple wedges, btw, do fine in an apple pie. And apple dehydrates nicely at home too. Same logic applies as carrots, if you dehydrate and then also freeze them, they don't stick together and you can have them indefinitely, and they take up a lot less space. But really I just freeze apple slices and then make pie filling with them [or add them to stuffing].

I will eventually formalize and share actual recipes, but so much of the cooking I do is measuring with my feelings that I need the spoons to go through making each dish and documenting what has it come out the best. There's some batch cooking things I do like pre-roasting chickpea flour to coat dumplings and rolls in so they don't stick together in the freezer. I make about 50+ spring rolls at once from frozen bean sprouts and etc, and then freeze those to eat 2-3 at a time.

I just can't stand having food go bad in the fridge if I don't have the energy to cook, and I hate the idea of simply not eating vegetables because of it. I'm trying to save money and also eat well and my response to problems tends to be a little "smash it all with one simple elegant solution". If you have any specific questions please let me know <3

[toosicktoocare]

Prompt:  this might be too vague but how about sick dick or jason (your pick, i'm fine with either) hiding it from bruce on patrol bc things are really bad between them at the moment

Catch me flying with the typical Jason is still A+ Bitter at Bruce

With the recent rise in aggravated incidents in Crime Alley, Jason’s been forced to share his patrols with the bats, an idea he violently fought against until Alfred stepped in, the calm, steady voice of reason, and insisted it was necessary for his safety.

Monday he had Dick, and things were... okay. Dick’s face is plastered beside the definition of “handful,” but he knows how to respect Jason’s patrol strategies, following wordlessly and only helping when needed. On Tuesday, Tim proved similar to Dick, his maturity blossoming. Though, he asked more questions, weirdly curious about Jason’s lingering effects of the Lazarus Pit. Jason answered each, hoping his short, clipped replies would hush the replacement because his head was starting to pound along each question.

Jason wasn’t surprised to see Damian on Wednesday, but he was definitely annoyed. He had woken up with a splitting headache that seemed to bleed down to his muscles, pushing against them. He thought, at first, it was a migraine, but the pain in his head was different and accompanied with a flushing fever heat that colored his cheeks. He said nothing to Damian, and Damian merely scoffed and disappeared to navigate Crime Alley areas alone. Jason let him, going off on his own as well, and they met up to one-word debrief before parting ways for the night.

When Jason shoots his grapple hook to the edge of a rooftop on Thursday, he expects to find Dick again. Maybe Cass. What he doesn’t expect is to see the unwanted, annoyingly familiar, brooding shadow of Batman standing atop the roof, arms crossed, mouth flat.

Jason’s stomach drops, and he stumbles his landing, catching himself with a hushed curse. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Bruce sighs, fingers visibly digging a little harder into his arms. “Language, Hood.”

“This is my territory,” Jason spits back. “I’ll say whatever the fuck I want. Why are you here? Doesn’t Batman have bigger things to do?” Saying ‘Batman’ aloud leaves a sour taste atop Jason’s tongue, a bitter word that plays with the dull burn of the Lazarus Pit.

Since Jason’s return to Gotham, Bruce has been trying to reconcile, but Jason’s not willing to forgive and forget. He’ll try with the others, more so because they are annoyingly persistent, but not with Bruce. He can’t wrap his mind around forgiving Bruce for letting him die, for letting the Joker continue to breathe while he took his first last breath.

“I want to be here.”

“That’s fucking gold,” Jason rolls his eyes and turns away, absently coughing into his fist as he scans his rapid departure. The coughing’s a new development, only just testing his lungs when he woke this morning, but the headache’s remained, a steady, pulsing thump that his repeated consumption of pain killers can’t seem to touch. He doesn’t need a thermometer to know he’s running a fever; he’s got the inconsistent jumping from boiling hot to freezing cold to supply that for him.

“Jay-”

“Code names, Batman,” Jason growls before he shoots his grapple hook to a rooftop adjacent to them, moving along the sudden pull of weightlessness until his feet are thumping atop the next roof. He breaks out into a run, falling into a pattern of leaping over smaller gaps and grapple hooking over larger ones, all to ditch Bruce. His muscles are trembling from the sudden exertion, but he feeds off of the pain, pushing himself harder and harder when he hears Bruce not far behind him.

He only stops when he hears a woman scream from below, skidding to an unsteady stop and peering over a roof edge just as Bruce lands heavily beside him.

“Muggers.”

“No shit,” Jason grumbles, already bracing to leap off the building. “Do me a favor? Stay the fuck out of my way.” He jumps to the sound of Bruce’s strangled “Jay,” ignoring it as he grabs a fire escape to soften his fall. He lands strategically between the two muggers and a young woman.

“Today’s your lucky day, gentlemen.” Jason smiles sharply under his mask. “I’m in a really shitty mood, so I’ll make this quick.” His fist moves on its own, and he allows the aggravation to bleed to a dull rage that pushes his punches, plants his feet, and pulls his dodges. In just a minute, the two muggers are unconscious at his feet, and the woman’s running from the scene, stopping only when Batman drops to the ground in front of her and talks her into staying to give a statement to the GCPD.

Jason’s already shooting back up to the next rooftop, and his lungs quake against a bursting fit of coughs the second his feet make a rough landing. He coughs into his helmet, his chest shaking, but he forces a steady breath when Bruce drops beside him. Though, it takes more blinking then he expects to clear his wavering vision.

“Do you plan on following me all night?” Jason questions, tired and far too hot under his suit. “I don’t need my territory associating the Red Hood with Batman. I have a reputation, and you’re going to fuck that up for me.”

“I’m here to help.”

“You can help on the East side of Crime Alley,” Jason mutters, a few, weaker coughs slipping past his lips. “I’ll handle the rest.” He drops to a landing below him, leaping over to the roof of a convenience store, and his legs buckle on the landing. He falls to his knees, his vision swimming faintly, and he unconsciously taps into the deep-rooted burn of the Lazarus Pit when Bruce drops beside him, one hand frozen mid-reach toward Jason’s back.

“What part,” Jason growls, coughing hollowly around each word, “of fuck off isn’t clicking in that empty skull of yours?” He’s shaking despite the heat gripping at his bones, and he clumsily undos the lock on his helmet, sucking in a ragged breath when his burning face is exposed to the cool wind.

“Jay?”

“Jesus Christ, B,” Jason spits out, forcing himself to his feet and slapping Bruce’s hand away. “Just fucking go.” His throat’s burning, and his head feels oddly heavy despite the absence of his helmet. The skin across his face is so hot it’s practically itching, and he rips at his domino, squeezing it in his fist when Bruce frowns deeply at him.

“Jason? What’s wrong?”

Jason laughs, and his laugh gives way to a few, chesty coughs that rattle his lungs. His vision is graying at the edges, and he hastily rubs at his eyes. “What’s wrong is I’m tired of you and the fucking peanut gallery clinging to me like fucking leeches!” He’s faintly aware that he’s breathing too fast, and he’s impossibly hot. He swipes at his eyes again, but his vision only darkens. He’s fading, and yet, his body is mingling with panic.

He feels Bruce slip and ungloved hand across his forehead, and he tries to jerk away from it, but Bruce keeps him in place with his other hand wrapped tightly around his arm.

“Jason, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you say?”

Bruce’s classic growl, Jason thinks, is wavering? He’s not sure because his ears are ringing. “Because it’s not your fucking busin-” Jason stops, his mouth forming a round ‘oh’ right as his vision goes black.

***

Bruce catches Jason as he falls, and he swallows back the panic threateninng to cripple him as he taps his comm, rattling off his coordinates. “Who is closest?”

“I am,” Dick chimes in after a moment. “I can be there in five. What’s up?”

“I need to get Jason back to the manor. Do you think you can cover the Alley alone tonight?”

“Of course, but what’s up, B? Is Jason okay?”

“No,” Bruce whispers, smoothing a shaking palm to Jason’s burning forehead. “But he will be.”

***

Jason’s entire body feels impossibly heavy, so heavy that he struggles to open his eyes, mind briefly flicking toward panic at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“You’re at the manor.”

The ceiling suddenly makes sense his mind, as does the voice at his side. He drags his gaze to see a Bruce sitting in a chair at his bedside. He frowns, briefly glancing to the IV in his arm before turning back to Bruce, a silent question in his eyes.

“You fainted on patrol. You were running a fever of 103.3 degrees, and you were dehydrated.”

Shit. Jason knew he was sick, but he hadn’t realized he let it get that bad. He wants to talk, even opens his mouth to, but Bruce holds a single hand up, shaking his head.

“Save your strength. You’re on the mend, but not as quickly as we’d like.” Bruce slips to his feet, his eyes colored in dark pain that Jason catches onto.

“I’ll give you some time to yourself now that you’re awake, but I’ll be back, and you are just going to have to deal with that.”

Jason’s mind is fuzzy, confused, pained, but he feels a fraction lighter along the knowledge that while he blacked out, he woke back up this time, safe, alive. He stares at Bruce’s back headed to the door.

“B?”

Bruce stops, and he whips around, one brow arched.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Of course, son.”

Bruce leaves, and Jason decides that, just for tonight, he’ll take muted comfort in the single word that carries an impossibly heavy amount of weight.

Son.

[kyber-kisses]

Cracked

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: spn level gore, cursing, I think that’s it-

Summary: When the reader gets knocked out by a powerful witch, Dean and Sam race to find a cure before it’s too late.

A/n: my first one-shot in who knows how long! I’m so happy I finally wrote something that didn’t turn into a series! Anyways I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (also its hella long, ye be warned)

“Is she still out?”

“Yeah Dean, shes still out.”

Dean let out a string of curse words as he turned his attention back towards the road, his brother sitting in the back seat with a very unconscious Y/N in his arms.

“Dammit. Dammit. Dam-“

“Okay, dude you need to calm down. She still alive, she’s not dying.”

“But what if she is?!” Dean whipped his head around once more to stare at Sam, eyes full of panic. “We don’t know what that witch hit her with!”

“Well can you at least wait to freak out until we actually know what’s going on?”

Flexing his fingers on the steering wheel, Dean let out a huff before falling silent. He tried to push his worry down but as he got closer to Bobby’s house he only felt it rise. Every few seconds he brought his eyes to the rear view mirror, checking on both you and Sam. That witch had been harder than expected to kill and she had knocked you out with some sort of blast, now they were just waiting for whatever effects it brought on.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“She’s kinda getting warm. . . We need to get her back to Bobby’s.”

Clenching his jaw, Dean nodded. “I know, I know I’m trying.” Hissing through his teeth he pressed his foot further down on the gas, the impalas speedometer quickly rising right along with Deans worry.

*. *. *. *. *.

Ten minutes later Dean was practically kicking down the front door of the old hunters home, your body limp in his arms as he quickly moved over the threshold, Sam close behind.

“Bobby?!”

Normally at the sound of his name being called the man would have grumbled and whispered a what now under his breath, but the panic in Deans voice had him shooting out of his desk chair like it was on fire.

“Dean? Sam?”

Dean payed no attention to his name being called, instead moving past the startled old man so he could gently set you down on the old cot in the living room.

“Dammit, man. She’s burning up-“ Deans voice shaking as he pressed the back of his hand to your head.

“What the hell happened?! I thought you guys said the hunt was going fine?” Dropping his book back on the desk he moved across the room towards where you lay unconscious, practically having to pry Dean away from you so he could assess the situation.

“It’s was! And then the evil skank hit her with something and knocked her out cold!”

“And her temperatures been rising for the past ten minutes.” Sam added, dropping their gear bags on the already cluttered floor. “You have any idea what we can do?”

“Not really. Try and keep her fever down until we can figure out what exactly she hit her with?” Bobby shrugged with a sigh. “It’s kinda hard to help her when we don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Alright, yeah okay-“ Dena breathed, still slightly out of breath as he wiped the back of his forehead with his hand, already turning towards the kitchen and moving away.

Bobby watched him go with a confused look before turning to Sam. “Is he alright?”

The younger Winchester only shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s been acting like this ever since she went down. Full blown panic and all fidgety. It’s definitely not like him.”

“No. No it ain’t.” Bobby murmured, stepping out of the way as Dean came back, the two watching as he went straight to your bedside and took a seat next to you, putting cold compresses on your forehead and wrists.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Dean weren’t particularly fond of each other. Enemies was too strong a word. . . It was more like you both just found the other to be mildly annoying. And seeing Dean so worried about you? Well that was not normal. Not normal at all.

“Dean, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, yeah why wouldn’t I be?” Quickly whipping his head around he stopped short at the facial expressions he was being given. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Shaking his head, Sam turned towards the hunter besides him. “We should probably start trying to figure out what the hell is happening.”

“I’ll stay here with Y/N, make sure her fever doesn’t spike.”

“Okay. . . We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us.” Nudging Sam forward, Bobby gave the older Winchester one last look before departing. The jade eyed hunter still seated at your side, only shifting once to wipe a loose strand of hair away from your face before slipping his hand into yours.

Not normal. Not normal at all

*. *. *. *. *. *.

When you woke up it was dark. . . And freezing. Hair rippled erect on your arms as you shivered, slowly blinking yourself into consciousness. Turning your head you quickly realized you were no longer in the witches home but instead in the messy study of one Bobby Singer, the only light either coming from the bay window next to you where a full moon shone bright or from the kitchen across the room.

A small groan escaped your lips as you tried to shift on the cot, a bolt of pain shooting through your head as you did. Falling back once more you peeled the cloth from your head, looking at it with confusion. What the hell had happened? And where was everyone?

Tossing the cloth away you took a deep breath. It was only after did you hear the hushed voices coming from the kitchen.

Up. You needed to get up.

You moved slowly this time, stretching out your body as you sat up. It felt like you were made of lead, every movement taking twice the effort that it normally did. Shrugging it off you swung your legs over the side of the cot, bracing yourself to get up. You shivered once more, this time feeling the cool perspiration on your skin, which was only cooled further when a soft breeze came through the open window.

Standing up slowly you flinched as your feet came into contact with the cold hardwood floors, the old wood squeaking ever so slightly under your weight. Other then that you crossed the room quietly, heading towards the hushed voices just around the corner. Your body felt like it was being weighed down with lead as you walked, a deep ache in your bones accompanying it.

You didn’t feel right. You felt off.

Using the wall as a somewhat support, you rounded the corner into the kitchen, halting in the doorway. Sam, Dean, and Bobby were seated at the small table, all three of their faces buried in books. It was easy to see they were working on something due to the mountains of lore scattered across the surface of the table.

“What are you guys doing?”

At the sound of your voice all work stopped, three heads looking up in unison in your direction.

“Y/N.”

“You’re up!”

Eyebrows knitting tightly together you gave the brothers a confused look. “Yeah, I’m up. What the hell happened?”

Instead of a clear answer, you watched as Sam suddenly stood up, moving across the room towards you. Once close enough he had the back of his hand pressed to your forehead.

“Her fevers gone, that’s good right?” He spoke, looking over his shoulder at his brother and the old hunter.

Swatting his hand away you took a step back. “I’m sorry, fever?”

“Y/N, you had a temperature of 104 for almost three hours.” Dean spoke up, closing the book in front of him so he could give you his attention.

“What?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

With a shrug you leaned your weight against the door frame. “We were in that house trying to find that witch.”

God, why did you feel so weird? It’s like your feet were encased in cement.

“So you don’t remember getting thrown across the room by her?”

“No. And so what if I did? What does me having a fever have to do with getting thrown by a witch?”

There was silence from the three as they looked between each other, clearly arguing silently over who should say something.

“You think she cursed me don't you?” Letting out a sigh, you pinched the bridge of your nose. You weren’t cursed. If you really had a fever that bad then that’s probably why you felt so off.

“How you feeling kid?” This time it was Bobby that spoke up, leaning back in his seat to look at you.

“A little dehydrated, but I’m fine.”

“You sure, cause I feel like you should still be in bed-“

“I’m fine, Dean!”

But clearly you weren’t fine, because not a second later you knees suddenly buckled, your hands reaching out for the door frame so you didn’t crash to the floor. There was a series of shouts and all of a sudden Dean was in front of you, and hoisting you up into his arms before you could fall to the wooden floor.

“I got ya, Sweetheart.”

“Dean! Let me go!”

“Would you just let me help you for once?! I’d rather not see you face plant on the floor.” He fired back, adjusting you in his arms as he carried you back the way you had just came, setting you back down on the cot.

A light switch was flicked on as Bobby and Sam followed behind. “What the hell was that?”

“Like I said, I’m probably just dehydrated.”

“I- I’ll go get you some water.” Dean nodded, hesitating for a moment before backing away and heading back towards the kitchen.

“That was not dehydration and you know it.”

The second he was out of earshot you looked up at the remaining people in the room, ignoring Sams comment.. “Okay, why is he being so nice to me?”

“Trust us, we’ve been asking that same question for the past several hours.” Sam sighed, looking back over his shoulder momentarily.

“No, seriously. Dean and I practically bicker 24/7. And now in the span of two minutes he’s picked me up bridal style and gone to get me water. Is he dying? Am I dying?”

“Ya ain’t dying. . . At least not yet.”

“Wow, thanks Bobby. I feel so much better.” Leaning back on the cot, you took a deep breath. It kinda felt like you were dying now that you thought about it. Your body felt heavier than normal, even your eyelids. You weren’t tired though, so that was out of the question.

“Uh here. Sorry it’s not cold.” Dean sighed, stepping back into the room before handing over a glass of water.

“It’s fine. Thank you, Dean.”

“You sure you’re feeling alright? You kinda scared us earlier.” Sinking down into the chair next to the cot, Dean crossed his arms.

You paused mid sip, lowering the glass from your lips. “I mean, I’m sore- like really, really sore but what else do you expect when you get thrown violently across a room?” Leaning down you put the glass next to the cot before resting your elbows on your knees. “But I also feel. . . God this is gonna sound so weird- I feel heavy.”

“Heavy?”

“Yeah, like my bones are encased in concrete. It’s probably nothi-“ your words suddenly died on your lips as you looked down at your lap, your elbows still resting on your knees.

“Y/N?”

Slowly sitting upright, your eyes widened as you suddenly patted down your thigh. You couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t feel your leg at all.

“Uhhh-“

Changing tactics as your panic quickly increased you tried squeezing the muscle, but nothing happened. You didn’t even feel the skin dip under the sudden pressure. It felt solid. Like glass or something.

“Y/N! What the hell is going on?!” Too preoccupied to notice the panic in Deans voice you leaned over to roll up the cuff of your pants.

The trio watched as your eyes widened, unable to clearly see what had you so shocked.

“AHhh!”

“What?”

“AHhH!” You repeated, lifting your leg up and into better lighting, gesturing wildly at your limb.

“What the-“

“Oh my god.”

“Holy shit.”

It was still your leg- but at the same time it wasn’t. The light reflected off of it like it was coated in some sort of gloss, and when you lightly tapped your knuckles against it you were met with la light clink.

The three hunters were crowding around you within seconds. Dean crouched down in front of you slowly, eyes going from your leg to your eyes. “Mind if I-“

You shook your head, allowing the hunter to gently lift your leg to get a better look.

“It looks like. . . Porcelain.” Sam mumbled, kneeling down next to his brother, eyes fixated on your leg. “Can you move it?”

“No.”

“Can you feel anything at all?” Dean tilted his head, running his palm over your solidified calf muscle. You shook your head again, eyes still transfixed on the glossy sheen of your leg.

“So I guess we figured out what kind of curse that witch put on you.”

“No shit, Bobby.”

“I’ll go through the lore, see if I can’t find something.” Sam nodded, popping back onto the heels of his feet before quickly moving back towards the kitchen table, Bobby not far behind.

“It doesn’t hurt or anything?” Dean asked quietly, gently putting your leg back down, your heel hitting the floor with a light clack.

“No.”

“We’re gonna fix this, don’t you worry.” He gave you a soft smile before rising to his feet and giving your hand a squeeze. . . Or at least he tried too. Instead his hand only felt cold porcelain, your hand stiff against his own. The two of you exchanging a worried look before looking down, your hand now the same as you leg.

“Yeah, I really don't want to turn into a fucking porcelain doll.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Whatever curse was infecting you spread slowly, and thankfully; painlessly. The only way you could tell it was spreading was when the soreness in different parts of your body suddenly stopped. And sure enough when you looked, you skin was smooth and glossy. It was an odd thing to look at, normal skin slowly giving way to something else entirely.

In the last few hours it had completely taken both of your legs, the entirety of your left arm and most of your torso as well. Unable to move you were forced to stay on the cot, but thankfully Sam, Dean, and Bobby had moved their research into the study so they could keep an eye on you.

“This sucks ass.” You grumbled, using your one good hand to flip through the pages of one of Bobby’s books on hexs. “Please tell me one of you guys have something.”

“Nope, sorry Y/N.”

You let out another groan before slamming the book shut. “When I turn into a life size doll do me a favor and try not to turn me into some extravagant coat rack or mannequin.”

“Oh don’t worry, I was thinking more of a lawn ornament or scarecrow for you.”

“Haha. Your so funny Dean, really I’m crying from laughter.” You deadpanned, saluting him with a middle finger. “Maybe if I’m lucky and I stay like this I’ll be able to flip you off even in death.”

Turning your head away from the group, you chose to look out the window instead. Beyond the pane of glass rain was coming down in sheets, soaking every inch of the salvage yard. Every once in awhile a lightning strike would light up the sky, followed by claps of thunder that vibrated through your body. But it was really your reflection that got you.

It was beginning to spread to your face. Lucky your neck had yet to be taken by the witches curse allowing you a little mobility, but it was beginning to crawl up the side of your face, your cheeks reflecting the flash of lightning beyond the salvage yard. Using your one good hand, you delicately let your fingers dance across your face, the cool materiel beneath them unable to register the touch. Leaning forward to get a better look at your reflection you lightly pressed your cheekbone, hoping to feel something- anything.

Instead you were met with a sharp crack and you had to bite down on your tongue to keep from crying out in horror, your eyes widening as you quickly brought your hand away from your face.

No,no,no,no,no,no-

“Haha! I think I found something!” Dean exclaimed, hoisting whatever book he had in his lap up into the air, unaware of what had happened a few feet away from him.

“Good. . . Because I think you guys need to hurry.” Your voice was soft as you slowly turned your head to face the group, the tone of it catching everyone's attention.

You watched Sam’s eyes widen along with Bobby’s, Deans book dropping from his hands to loudly smack against the floor.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

“I’m trying not to.” You spoke softly, trying to minimize the movement of your face.

The only proper way to describe it was that you had cracked. Literally. Where your face was once unblemished was now a massive spider crack, the point of impact stemming from your cheekbone and spreading across your temple towards the center of your forehead, along with spreading out over the bridge of your nose and going down to meet the corner of your mouth. The cracks only stopping where porcelain ended and skin began.

Y/N, I’m gonna need you to be really still.” The caution in Deans voice adding to the tension as he slowly and very cautiously got up from his seat.

“N-no problem.” As you breathed in you swore you could feel air seeping through the cracks in your cheek. You shivered.

Slowly kneeling down in front of you, Dean allowed his hands to reach for your face, only to stop a moment later, calloused palms hovering millimeters away from your fractured skin. He was afraid that if he touched you in the slightest you would shatter.

“Sam, take a picture of the spell I found in that book. If you guys leave now you might be able to get all the ingredients in time.” Speaking over his shoulder Dean never took his eyes off you. He wanted to talk to you but he was afraid the movement might make the breakage worse. Instead he slid his hand into your good one. “One squeeze for yes, two for no. Does it hurt?”

Feeling the first tears fill your eyes you squeezed his hand twice, watching as he body relaxed slightly. You were scared. . .and deep down you knew Dean was too.

“Dean, I’ll keep an eye on her. You go with Sam.” Bobby suddenly spoke up, giving the hunters shoulder a squeeze.

“What? No! I can’t leave her here!”

“Son, I got her. You and Sam know your way around that witches house better than I would. You’ve already been there once.”

“But-“

“No buts. Get going, your brothers already out the door with the keys.” Bobby sighed, ushering the older Winchester to his feet.

He got him all the way to the doorway before Dean halted to look back at you.

You looked afraid. . . And he wasn’t used to seeing that in you. He didn’t like it. It made him feel sick.

“Look after her for me?”

“I got it, now get going! clocks a tickin.”

*  *   *   *   *

Sam and Dean has maybe been gone two hours when the old hunter finally spoke up again from his place behind his desk, looking up from whatever he was occupied with.

“That boy worries about you, you know that right?”

Letting out a light huff you rolled your eyes before looking back out the window. The curse had spread more over the past ten half hour, most of your face and neck now the same as the rest of your body.

“He does. Dean may be stubborn and hard to read at times, but it’s easy to see how much he cares about you.”

If your body would have allowed it you would have laughed. Instead you shot him an amused look. . . Or your best attempt at one.

Dean was the last person you would expect to worry about you. You had been nuances to each other for as long as you could remember.

“It took me a little while to see it.” He continued, leaning back in his seat behind his desk. “But I figured him out. You know he came busting in here like the place was on fire earlier, yelling for me with you limp in his arms. I don’t think I’ve seen that boy so afraid in awhile.”

You shook your head, unable to believe it. He was lying. There was no way Dean would be like that with you. That didn’t sound like him at all.

“At first Sam and I were confused as all get out. But like I said, I put two and two together. That idjit has fallen hard for you Y/N.”

A laugh rumbled in the back of your throat at that, you couldn’t help it. How much had that man had to drink?

“I’m serious. You know while you were unconscious he sat with you almost the entire time. Making sure your temperature stayed down, and all that. He held your hand the whole time too. . . Even if he thought Sam and I didn’t notice. That boy was worried beyond all get out.”

Titling your head you gave him an amused glare, one the clearly read old man, you’ve lost it but I find what you’re saying highly amusing.

“Fine, don’t believe an old drunk like me. Half this town thinks I’m crazy already.” He shrugged, reaching across the desk for his beer.

But that was the thing. You wanted to believe him, because deep down you knew you had feelings for the jade eyed hunter. You never found him annoying. . . If anything he was one of your favorite people.

It was maybe twenty minutes later that the front door was thrown open, a hectic Dean flying into the room with Sam hot on his heels.

“We got it! This should turn you back!” Lifting the small vial up he hurried across the room, his steps slightly faltering at the sight of you.

It had gotten worse since he left. The cracks head spread from your face to creep down your neck and collar bone and from what he could see the only parts that hadn’t turned to fine china were your eyes and part of your mouth, along with a little of your neck.

Shaking his head, he moved to sink down next to you on the mattress, unscrewing the lid of the vial. “Alright, tilt your head back, there we go.” Holding the back of you head he slowly emptied the contents of the vial into your parted lips, sending out a silent prayer that it worked.

Once empty he slowly stood up, backing away as he kept his eye on you. “Well, did it work? Is it working?” Turning towards his brother and Bobby in hopes of an answer. The two only shrugged.

“We’re gonna just have to wait and see. These things need time.”

The older Winchester let out a groan before taking his hand through his hair. “I- I can’t. I cant. I’ll be outside if you guys need me.”

Neither man interfered as they watched him turn and walk back out the way they had come. Dean was worried, and he had every right to be.

Dean only made it out the front door before sinking down onto the front steps of the porch. (Porch being way too nice a word since it was more like a few planks of wood resting on some old cinder blocks.) above him the porch light clicked off as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon to the east. It was only then that he realized he had been up all night, a yawn crawling up his throat. He needed you to be alright. If that cure didn't work-

The sky was beginning to shift to dusty shades of pink and orange when the front door clicked open behind him, the old wood wheezing as the person moved towards him.

“How’s she doing?”

“. . .I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”

At the sound of your voice, Deans head whipped around at such a force he swore he heard his neck crack, his green eyes finding you instantly. A sigh of relief left his lips as you sunk down onto the steps besides him. The only sign that you had been cursed at all was the crack shaped bruises on your face and neck, other then that you looked unscathed.

“Y/N-“

“The bruises are fine, Dean.” You smiled, lightly tapping the purples lines on your face. “Feels like I just fell down a flight of stairs, but I am welcoming the soreness.”

Folding his hands in front of him, Dean sucked in a breath as he nodded, eyes fixed on the rising sun. “Good, good.”

There was a small band of silence before you spoke again. “Thank you for saving me. I really didn’t feel like becoming an antique.”

“It wasn’t just me. Bobby and Sam did most of the work.”

“I know, I heard you were too busy holding my hand to help go through the lore.” You grinned, watching as he tensed up besides you, eyes going wide as a deep pink the same color as the sunrise crept across his cheeks.

“Wh-what? No! Who told you that? That- that is crazy talk. I wasn’t holding your hand!”

“Well, if you were I don’t mind.” Casually looping your arm through his, you rested your head against his shoulder. “The sunrise is pretty. Glad I got to see it.”

“Yeah. We don’t watch too many of them do we?”

“No. No we don’t.” The two of you fell silent for awhile, the only sounds being the road off in the distance and birds starting to wake up. It was only then did you lift your head to look at the hunter. In that moment you swear you heart skipped several beats, because for the first time in a long time you saw a soft smile on Dean Winchesters lips, a content one. You were silent for another moment.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Pulling his eyes away from the horizon he looked at you with surprise. “What?”

“I said-“ you leaned forward, “are you gonna kiss me or what?” you repeated with more confidence.

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Mhmm. Because here’s the thing, I’ve kinda got these feelings for you.”

“You want to kiss me?” Dean repeated, dumbfounded at what you were saying.

“Well I don’t want to kiss Sam, and I certainly don’t want to kiss Bobby.” You laughed lightly, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you looked at him. For a moment Dean thought you were joking with him, but he knew how you played, and you weren’t playing.

“I think you have terrible taste-“ he murmured, suddenly and very slowly leaning in, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. You were like a magnet, pulling him in.

“I totally agree.” You smirked, heartbeat increasing as the distance closed..

“I thought you hated me.”

“Oh I do, I despise you to my very core.”

“Oh, then I guess I should leave.” Deans grin grew as he slowly began to lean away. This was the kind of playfulness he could get behind.

“How bout you shut up?”

“Mmm, sounds like a good idea. Why don’t you make m-“ the words died on his lips the second yours connected with his. And the first thing he realized was that they were soft and molded together perfectly. As if on autopilot his hands went to your face no longer afraid of shattering you,but still holding you gently because of the bruises. He let out a sigh of relief against your lips when they found skin and not porcelain.

“You can kiss me harder if you want.” You whispered, hands finding the back of his neck.

“Don’t want to break you.” He mumbled, keeping his assault on your lips light and simple. He wanted to savor it, cherish it. It was you after all.

“You won’t.”

“Okay.”

SPN Taglist (still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro​​​​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​​​ @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​​​​ @callmekda​​​​ @jordangdelacruz​​​ @orphiceseum​​​ @andthatsmyworld​​​ @marvelfangirllll​​​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​​​ @gladiosamicitias​​​ @castielsangelsx​​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​​​  @totallyluciferr​​​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​​​ @dolanfivsosxox​​​@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​​ @akshi8278​ @defenderrosetyler​​​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​​ @idksupernatural​​​​ @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @beanie-beebo​​​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​​​ @greenarrowhead​​​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​​ @brebolin​​​ @biahblue​​​

[fragileizywriting]

friends (part two)

AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This… this is not fun.

He wants to be in bed with Marinette.

He wants to be under the thick covers on a cold and freezing morning and curl into her warmth and never leave. Is it the cat part of him, or the demon part of him that means this? After all, demons don’t like the cold— it burns through the hellfire that covers their soul and makes them all almost insufferable. His dad, too, is inconvenienced by any amount of freeze— he doesn’t get snippy but he’s seen the way that frown has transformed his father’s face into a disgruntled god.

But cats are no different, either— making it a habit to curl up in the warmest place and hide until it’s warm enough to move. Winters are hard for Chat when he’s not in hell, and Marinette always teases him for him retracting into his cat form almost for days at a time, trying to use his fur to keep the frost from seeping into his body. The cold and Chat Noir do not do so good.

Whatever it is that makes him hate this, he listens to it, souring his mood by thinking of all the things he’s missing without Marinette near.

Why hadn’t they just invited Marinette along? It’s not like she doesn’t ever come with them sometimes. She enjoys the experience of being on Luka’s boat, even if it is to collect ingredients on her own, and Chat Noir has always very much enjoyed her company. If Luka’s feeling up to it, which he often is, he goes collecting for her. Marinette’s list is never that long, given that she stocks up on everything she can get her hands on, but sometimes she’s in need of more.

Algae, rocks, a specific crystal that regrows every two weeks or so. Snails, any bottom-feeders that Luka can lure and trap for her, and definitely whatever type of ocean or lake plant she’s looking for. Every time Luka resurfaces with a new item, Marinette is so quick to smile and so quick to thank him, turning and spinning around on the deck to show Chat the new item before she puts it in a jar for storage.

But without her, this whole fishing moment is just… exhausting.

Truly, of all things he’s done in the past week and a half— this takes the cake as both the most mundane and the most unnecessary thing to do.

He’s built fence posts, he’s seen his mother and almost passed out from dehydration— he’s seen his father and gotten his whole world tilted onto its side and backwards— not to mention the bite marks and suture in his skin. He’s kissed Marinette— done more than just that, actually— and finds himself rubbing at the tattoo on his chest the more and more he thinks about being away from her. The seal burns purple against his hand, reminding him that he’s far from his witch’s magic, and that his entire body and soul misses her.

Today’s fishing is just too much.

Luka agrees with him— he knows it— because the naga’s eyes are closed as the sun beats down on their shoulders, warming their skin and bodies to the point of laziness. Chat can barely keep his eyes open, looking out to the lake, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier as the sun continues to bake them alive.

Just their luck. The two people who struggle the most to focus when there’s a patch of sun are now subjugated to an entire afternoon of it— what he wouldn’t give to just transform into his cat form and lounge for the rest of the day, yearning to be in his witch’s lap as she pets through his fur.

“Why is it so sunny?” Chat complains into the silence, trying not to close his eyes for too long. This is perfect napping weather— all he has to do is just rest his head and… “Of all days for it to be ridiculously sunny.”

“It’s good for the festival,” Luka answers, looking just as out of it as he is. It’s laughable, of course, that a water creature such as Luka would absolutely go frozen stiff at the prospect of baking under the sun. Even though he’s not a snake— or at least, that’s what Luka always argues whenever he brings it up— he certainly acts like one. He looks ready to lay down and coil up, let his blood be warmed up by the sun, and stay that way for days.

“What’s going on with the weather this week?” He sniffs, not exactly stopping himself from laying back down on the deck of Luka’s boat. The Liberty doesn’t even budge under their weight— she’s a solid, heavy barge that is more long than tall— it offers barely any protection from the elements coming from the sky. It’s a floating platform, essentially, which is perfect for nagas who frequently spend most of their time in the water and have a tough time climbing up the sides of their boats from how slippery they are— and the boat is also long enough to house a superfluous amount of nagas, as well as their long tails comfortably, should they feel the need to curl up instead of letting their tails hang off the boat.

And it fits the fish as well.

Lots and lots of barrels of fish.

“The constellations are starting to move.” Luka answers, almost sounding a bit too serious. The tip of Luka’s tail sways in the water with the gentle current that is too soft to genuinely make a dent in the barge’s lazy course to the middle of the lake. His plumes open instinctually wherever his tail meets the water— a sway of fins that only come out when there is enough moisture. He is more sea serpent this way, than an actual snake— and his tail glitters with sparks of gold underneath the clear water. Fish swim by next to him, curious as to whose fins are swaying like a tree in a breeze, and Chat Noir admits— even if it’s to himself and safely away in his head— that he understands why nagas consider themselves sea serpents instead of just snakes. “There’s a celestial storm coming. Did you not know?”

“This sounds like a horoscope,” Chat doesn’t let the idea settle into his head. “Celestial storm? Don’t pull at my tail, Luka. You won’t believe that my parents are gods, but you’ll believe in celestial storms?”

He snorts. “No one believes you when you say your parents are two divinities.”

“At least it’s more believable than hearing you talk about how a ‘ tornado will come from Orion—’ or ‘ an earthquake has been predicted because of Antares—’”

Luka smiles good-humouredly. “Idiot, nothing of that sort. Naga use constellations to guide themselves across the sea, you pruned lion.”

“‘Pruned lion’,” Chat mutters, resting his clawed hands against his chest. Rubbing and rubbing and rubbing away at the seal. “I’ll show you a ‘pruned lion’.”

“There’s not much paper we can use on the sea. Clay is a good substitute, but they’re too heavy when using as maps, so we navigate by using stars. We can tell when stars aren’t in their place,” Luka continues, as if he’s barely heard him. “And they are most definitely not in their places. Just last night, eight northern constellations moved closer south.”

Chat’s feet dangle off the edge of the platform that makes the Liberty, and his toes sink into the water. It’s lukewarm, heated by the sun that beats down and down and down, but much easier and cooler than the damp and still air above.

He has half a mind to dunk himself body and whole into the water just to cool off, but knows that his hair will dry in the shape of a dandelion if he does that, so it’s a stern no. There’s no way in hell he’s going to worry about how his hair dries while trying to fish with a naga by his side. Besides, getting ready for the festival will take him a lot longer if he has to tame his hair— he doesn’t mind getting brushed by Marinette when she corners him, but his fur usually snags into knots and it’s painful. “Fine, fine. I believe you— you don’t need to get all technical on me. I’ve just never heard of a celestial storm before.”

“Probably not, since you don’t need to use stars to see like we do. The celestial storm just brings indication that there will be a large magical gathering soon— it’s nothing inherently serious.”

Interesting. “You mean like the festival?”

“Exactly. It’s something to be cautious of, that’s all— it just ends up confusing lots of naga who are trying to travel somewhere new for the first time. There might be a lot more naga at the festival than usual, since the stars are pointing in this direction.”

“That’s not too bad— no one has anything against your kind, anyway. Witches and magic-users from all places are coming here to see the infamous Ladybug, after all— they want to get her good wishes on behalf of my mother— so it’s not like a big deal to see more of you.”

There’s laughter in his voice. “‘The one who can cast good fortune on even the sick and the dying’, yes, I know. But unfortunately, no— the magical gathering isn’t the reason for the stars warping. It’s something bigger than that. Bigger than her. Constellations only move when sages or gods show up.”

Well. Well well well. He doesn’t really need to think about it, now does he?

“How long have they been moving?”

“They only started four days ago.”

“Have they shifted back?”

“No.” Chat doesn’t need to look at him to know that there’s a question forming on his face. He knows Luka too well by now. “Your questions are oddly specific for someone that never heard of this storm before.”

“Well, good to hear. You don’t need to worry about all that— but thank you for the confirmation.” He spreads his good arm out as far as he can reach it. He ends up hitting Luka in the chest, and the naga hisses out, startled— but other than that, they match each other by slowly cooking in the heat. Luka’s heartbeat is slow against his palm, and Chat has no real reason to pull away, so he just leaves it there on his jacket. “Everything will go back to what it once was after the festival.”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in horoscopes. Why are you fortune-telling?”

“Because my dad isn’t going to set the festival on fire just because he’s up here.” Maybe. There’s a strong likelihood he won’t, given that he’s already caused too much mischief.

“Right, right. Your ‘father’. You think Plagg is here?”

“The stars said so, didn’t they?” He flashes a smile, even though they’re not making eye contact. It’s instinctual to try to get a rise out of the man sitting next to him. “Relax. I won’t let him set fire to things— Marinette’s been making all of those charms for the past three months, it won’t go to waste.”

“Remind me to get a handful of them, since I’m going to be spending most of it next to you,” The driest thing in the world is hearing Luka’s voice go flat. “The last thing I need is to catch fire from your terrible luck.”

“Wh— rude. I don’t have bad luck, that’s just a myth— but I’ll gladly walk underneath a ladder for you in order to give you what you deserve. Anyway, I thought you were going to find yourself someone new to fancy? What was the whole point of the molting?”

“The two people that I actually cared to court are currently taken. I’m not disappointed, but I’m rather bored of humans otherwise.” Luka’s breath deepens as if he’s falling asleep at the idea of spending that much energy finding someone else. “If someone were to approach, I’ll at least give them the benefit of listening, but you won’t find me looking for new people.”

“You’d make a good familiar to whatever witch shows up to you tonight,” Chat oof!s hard when Luka’s hand does the exact same and hits him on the chest. He snorts on instinct, thinking a second or two longer on the idea. “Do you have an animal form like I do?”

“I’d rather not tell you, just in case you get ideas. But I would hope that she would like me for more than just a pet, unlike Marinette.”

He ignores his comment. “Most magic users can create some sort of animal form for themselves, no? Humans can’t, but I’m sure a naga could. Are you sure you don’t have a snake form?”

“I’m still not telling you the answer.”

“I’m imagining a faceless witch wearing you like a scarf as she brews,” For some reason, he imagines a white snake wrapped around a neck, even though Luka’s tail is very much blue. “You’d be happy getting to laze around while your lady works.”

“I should give it a try with Marinette one day. You wouldn’t mind sharing, would you, kitty-cat? After all, she doesn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Funny.” He tries his best not to laugh, but he’s weak to the comedy of this whole day. It’s beyond painful to keep the laughter in, of how this day has been just another bizarre domino in the whole scheme of the week.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Luka sighs. “I was beginning to worry you actually hated me. Ever since this morning you’ve been snippier to me than usual— you’re not actually worried I pose a threat of some kind, do you?”

Wait. “Are you insecure?”

“You two are my closest friends.” Luka doesn’t meet his eyes when Chat lifts up from his spot to look down at him with furrowed brows. “After Adrien passed, I didn’t have many people, you know.”

Wait. “Hold on, you knew Adrien that well?”

“I didn’t know you knew who that was.” Luka raises a brow.

“Marinette talks about him.” Never mind the other things…

“He was my first friend when I was very young.” He shrugs, still giving Chat the stink eye like he doesn’t actually believe him. “Naga aren’t as scary as people think, but humans are prejudiced to their own kind all of the time, so it’s not hard to believe that they won’t be to nonhumans too. Adrien brought me into the friend group before he got sick.”

Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. Always Adrien, isn’t it? “Was he the closest friend you had?”

“Probably. Nino and I were always really good friends, back in the day. But Marinette and I got rather close after Adrien’s passing. I would see her almost every day if I decided to stay nearby.”

Oh. Oh. “No wonder you were so uncomfortable with the idea of her moving a demon into her house.”

His eyes go flat. “A girl I liked suddenly bringing a demon home? Anyone would’ve been worried.”

Chat can’t force himself to stop chuckling. “I guess I can see why you were… not the nicest person to me at first.”

“She’s never been afraid of you, but I think that just made me even more worried.” Luka gestures towards Chat’s direction, as if that helps explain better. “It doesn’t take much brainpower to realize what a Ladybug needs a Chat Noir for. Forgive me for not buying the little nonchalant act between the two of you, but I can read the little pearl like the back of my hand, after all.”

“So you know about the miraculous cure.”

“Yes. Anyone with reading eyes can put two and two together, kitty-cat. Information isn’t kept that hushed about it.”

He ignores the needling smile gracing Luka’s features. “How well exactly did you know Adrien?”

“Well enough to know that his sickness was strange. His death was stranger. The smell on Marinette’s clothes was horrid, when she’d ran into me in the woods while stricken with grief and crying. We were all terrified by it, obviously, but Marinette seemed to be the most affected— probably because she was the one to try to see him the day he died. Nino, Marinette, and I were the most affected.” He sighs. “I don’t think Nino’s ever actually talked about it that much, but they were best friends.”

“Smell.” Chat winces. “What smell?”

“Same smell that’s coming off your stitches on your arm. I recognize the smell of hellfire anywhere, it sticks to my nose for weeks. I’ll never forget the first time I smelled it sticking to Marinette’s clothes.” Luka laughs bitterly. “Running down the path in the woods towards the ocean like she was crazed. Death clinging to her dress like she was his daughter.”

“Hellfire. You smelled hellfire? Are you sure?”

Luka’s looking at him curiously, now. “I’m positive. What’s on your mind?”

Adrien’s room had been covered with the smell of… hellfire? That’s just further proof that something definitely happened— one more thing pointing to his own relation to Adrien. One more damning evidence that his past life could be tied to Marinette’s wish. If only he could get his memories back to actually prove it as fact, though…

He flattens his ears across his head, looking back out on the water. “Don’t— don’t mention this to anyone what I’m about to tell you. Promise me you won’t. This can’t start a crowd.”

Luka’s eyes turn to gold as he squints. “Of course.”

“Marinette and I found out that there could’ve been foulness in his death. Odor or otherwise.”

The naga pauses. “Are you saying a demon of some kind could’ve been the reason for the smell?”

“I don’t want to tell you something only for it to be wrong later, but the basic answer is that Adrien most likely didn’t die from an illness after all.” He licks his lips.

“You’re saying that Adrien’s father might have summoned a demon for some reason?”

“No. I have no idea what it could be, but, if there was hellfire involved, there’s definitely something to do with hell in this poor boy’s death. We don’t have all of the information yet, but I think it’s a little bit more difficult than just pointing fingers.”

Luka’s quiet for a long time. There are gears turning in his head too, no doubt, trying to piece together all of the information. “Gabriel could… most likely be at the festival tonight.”

His head snaps up. “What? He will?”

“A couple of my kind saw his ship sailing close by the shore and where our dens are. He left— or, rather, fled, now that there’s an implication that he could’ve been responsible for something to do with Adrien— town years ago, and never came back. It’s been completely silent from him, deciding to even move countries, but I think he’s here for a blessing of some kind by a Ladybug.”

“Shit.”

“Agreed.”

“Shit.”

Luka sighs. “It’s just speculation, of course. I have no idea if he even knows that Marinette is Ladybug, never mind the fact that he might not be stopping by after all. He could just be here to visit family friends, and is using the festivities as a genuine and good excuse. What will you two do? Confront him?”

“I don’t know.” Chat answers honestly. “I genuinely don’t know. My dad doesn’t know much of the story, either— and he’s usually on top of his game on paying attention to these types of things, but got distracted the day it all happened. It’s not often you hear of a human getting caught in the crossfire of hell matters— but we’re all stumped, so it’s not like we can pin it directly on Gabriel with no reason. I’m going to need more information.”

Luka is surprisingly not as agitated with the whole thing as he’d expected. He’d expected surprise, or confusion, not genuine contemplation like he is now. The naga hums at the back of his throat, attempting to piece things together himself. “Do you think Adrien is still out there, maybe?”

“Well… He’s not dead,” Well. Are demons considered alive in the first place? Is this a moral or philosophical question? At what point is Chat Noir even considered alive? And if he really was Adrien, would he consider Adrien to be dead in this case? Rebirthed as Chat Noir? His head hurts. “As far as we know. Maybe in a sort of limbo state. What a mess.”

“This sounds a lot more confusing than I thought it would be. I can’t imagine this is any easy on the two of you. Adrien was my best friend and it’s hurting me to hear about it, I can’t imagine what it’s doing to the little witch.”

“She’s been… a little bit confused about it, too. I can’t wait for the festival and get her to relax about it— yesterday it was nonstop. The both of us, honestly, need to stop thinking about this for just a bit. You and I should keep an eye out for Gabriel just in case. I don’t know what he looks like, but, anything that’ll get us closer to the truth I’ll do it.”

But Luka’s smile is kind, and Chat can sense he’s trying to skirt the subject away and get him to think of other things. “Sure. I didn’t have plans, anyway, so that’s fine. And I’m sure you two managed to distract each other at some point yesterday, right?”

“By the grace of my mother,” Chat mutters under his breath. “This entire week has been monstrous to us, Luka. Every day has been a discovery, I don’t even know what to do or how to handle it. Not to mention that even my father thinks you and I are a good match together, did you know that? The amount of years I’ve aged each day in this disaster of a week would’ve turned a human into dust by now.”

Luka turns, belly-side down, hiding away his pale under-scales in favor of showing his long blue-and-diamond-patterned back. He ends up dunking more of his tail into the water, and those ghost-like fins blossom from underneath his scales like a billowing sheet. The water is hazy from all the glittering gold and those glossy, feathery fins. “Perhaps I’ll listen more often to what you have to say about your family, after all. Is he truly the king of the underworld?”

“Shut up,” Chat really can’t stop himself from laughing, because he doesn’t have any emotional handle on any of this. “If you have any luck, you might see him visit the festival and actually find out. Maybe I’ll have all my friends meet him, so that you all can stop making fun of me when I say it.”

“What in the world is the king doing here?”

“Visiting his son, you noodle.” He slips his eyes shut.

Ah, this is more natural territory for them both, isn’t it? He can almost feel how easy it is for the two of them to slip back into banter. “Careful, now. You’re implying that I’m tasty.”

“And also very easily chewable, what do you think about that?” He’s bit into Luka’s tail a few times, and each time he’s felt how the muscles had shifted under those hard scales. It’s amazing his teeth can even penetrate the scales from how genuinely hardened they are, but he supposes that anything is possible with a jaw strength like his. He cracks back open one of his eyes, looking at Luka, who continues to just look at him with humor swimming on his face. “Hey, how come you aren’t fishing?”

“I am fishing, you idiot.”

“Bullshit. Where’s your fishing pole?”

“I’m not fishing with a pole today.”

“What?” This gets Chat Noir to sit back up, looking around. He blinks hard in the sunlight, willing his eyes to focus without hurting his vision. His pole at the far end of the barge is completely still, resting in a small divot carved into the boat, the fishing wire still swaying with nothing grabbing onto the bait. He narrows his eyes at the single pole, looking around for Luka’s, which is no doubt somewhere on the boat, only to come up with nothing. “Have you been using your net this entire time?”

“And if I have?”

“I thought we said no fishing with nets this time.”

“We said no fishing with Marinette this time.” Luka’s eyes are absolutely vibrant and gold as Chat Noir turns to look back at him in the eyes. He looks a little bit more awake than he does, but that’s probably because Luka’s cooling off in the water with most of his body in it, while Chat continues to bake. “You and I get too distracted around the little pearl, you especially more now. And the festival needs fish— the last time I went pole fishing with you, I got a hook stuck in my dorsal fin.”

“That was your own fault, noodle.”

“Again with calling me tasty,” Luka sighs. “Honestly, Chat Noir, it’s a miracle Marinette’s fallen in love with you when you’re so keen on flirting with me, instead.”

“At least I don’t injure myself while flirting with her, and don’t realize that my hook was next to one of my fins before trying to cast out my line.” He rolls his eyes. He remembers the nasty gash, and how the translucent fin had bled for what looked like to be far too long for a simple cut, and how Marinette had spent so long carefully stitching the feathery membranes back together with suture, willing for the fins to heal. There’s a scar still left behind on that fin, but it’s hard to see unless he’s close enough to really look at the little veins and how they’re slightly wobbly.

Luka snorts. “Of course, of course.”

“That’s what you get for flirting with my Lady.”

“So childish. You’d think I’d be allowed to talk to a good friend of mine without her familiar puffing up his chest.” Luka sighs, unraveling his jacket on the waist. The pearls on his sleeves shine all sorts of colors as his shoulders shift, and he folds the garment carefully with his long claws. Every bead is delicately sown in, and he knows that Marinette has obsessively looked over the pattern work, as well as the stitchwork, with amazement and gluttony.

Would she be happy if he bought a naga jacket for her? Maybe in a dark red color, or a white as similar as Luka’s and a red sash? Something pearlescent, though— a plain white jacket wouldn’t match the paleness of her skin. It would look as if she’s wearing nothing at all.

“Loverboy, I’m going to go check up on my net. Stop swimming in your thoughts and focus on fishing. Cast yours as well, won’t you?”

He registers that he’s been drifting off into thought, rubbing at his tattoo across his chest, still thinking of her. He thinks about what Luka’s said for a little while, trying to remember if he’d been making a point, only to realize: “I didn’t bring mine.”

“Use my spare, then.” Luka laughs. “I’ll be back in a second— try not to get lonely, kitty-cat, okay?”

Luka slips off the boat entirely with a gentle splash noise. Chat watches with mild interest as Luka’s long and elaborate tail starts to plume again, filling out with all sorts of fins now that he’s entirely in the water, disappearing under the boat into the shade where no doubt many fish are hiding. He reminds Chat very dimly of a betta fish, with how gentle and fanish the fins are. No doubt that naga are incredibly good hunters in the water, but Chat Noir can’t help but wonder why they look so delicate and so easily tearable once they’re subjected to a humid environment.

He looks back to the empty barrels behind him with a sigh. Maybe his mother will bless him with good fortune, although, in all honesty— it’s doubtful. Very doubtful. He’s just going to have to do this by hand, it seems, to which he sends a quick prayer to his father— hopeful that instead of blessing him with good luck, he gives Luka enough bad luck for him to win.

And maybe he’ll be able to stop thinking of it for a few more minutes, too.

She finally finishes with the first stack of charms when Alya ends up knocking on the door. There’s a breeze gentle enough to kiss her cheeks brushing up against the windows— she’s let the panels of the house open enough to catch the draft. It’s light, as gentle as a cloud against her skin as she works, and barely stirs the fire from its slow attempt to reignite from the coals. The breeze is good for her heart, she supposes— every once in a while stopping in her attempt to complete her task in order to bask in how content she feels.

Her heart is full.

Of thoughts of Chat Noir, of thoughts of them, of thoughts of being happy. The thoughts she hadn’t given the chance to breed and fester are suddenly in full swing in her chest and mind, allowing her to gaze longingly out the window, wondering about him. There are many things to do in order to get the festival up and ready, and many of them will have to be done at the fields on the other side of town, but she’s certain that she’ll be able to finish a second or third stack of charms before she has to slip out of the cottage and go start the physical preparations.

Alya’s here to collect her, no doubt, just like Luka had said she would.

She’s brought Nino along, too, and Marinette is quick to grin and pull the two close enough to smother them into her shoulders. “Hello!”

“Hello there, Mari!” Nino twirls her, pressing their foreheads together. As like many people in her life, Nino is much taller than her— he makes up for it by bending his back as much as possible to be at her height. “I haven’t seen you in so long. How have you both been?”

“We’ve been well,” She laughs, cupping his cheeks with her hands. He lets her, eyes squinting behind his glasses, looking at her with friendly affection. “Much much better now, recently. The rain finally letting up is much better for the farm— oh, but I’ve missed you both. When was the last time we spoke?”

“Far too long.” He muses, breaking away enough to allow Alya to crush her into another hug. Her friend’s arms are warm, and comforting, and so definitely sweet. Living in the cottage away from town is mostly good, and allows her to work on her potions in peace— but it doesn’t allow her to see her friends as much as she wants to. The two of them are always so busy running their tavern, and renovations to Marinette’s own shop have made her daily check-in to their eatery almost impossible. “Where is Chat? Don’t think I forgot about him— I haven’t seen him in forever, either. Where is that cat?”

“Out fishing with Luka, unfortunately. They’re at the lake, if you’d like to go join them?”

“Absolutely not,” Nino breaks out into laughter as he unlaces his boots. “The last thing I need is to be caught in the crossfire between the two of them. It’s usually fine, I enjoy their banter and their desperate attempts to find reasons to touch each other without making it weird, but I’m trying to look my best for the festival.”

“And I’m sure you can’t do that when you’re in the middle of getting your hair scorched off.” Marinette can’t stop laughing.

“You and everyone else,” Alya rolls her eyes, letting go of her so she can breathe and not cough into her sleeve. Alya hugs like she has a vendetta. “What are you trying to look good for, anyway?”

“The more presentable I look, the more likely people are willing to give us tips in the end, my dearest.” He waggles his brows. Oh, the two of them are so lovely— Marinette watches with a yearning and heartful gaze as Nino bends Alya back in his arms, dipping her low, a firm arm underneath her waist. Even with only one shoe on, and his feather in his cap dangling dangerously low to brushing against their faces through the entire action, he’s nothing short of having heart eyes for the woman in his arms instead of dissolving into giggles like Marinette is. “I may be a good player, but we all know that only the truly most handsome get the money at the end of the day.”

“Then it’s good fortune for us that I have the most handsomest man in the world by my side,” Alya smiles so warmly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Oh, the two of them— Marinette is helpless to give a little sigh at how perfect the two of them are. “We’ll be rich in no time.”

Love. Love love love.

By far one of the most important things that Marinette has ever been able to witness firsthand is the way the two of them look at each other— her heart is ready to explode. She hasn’t touched the cookies in a couple of days, still trying to get the bitter taste of love sick out of her mouth and away, and looking at the cookies gives her a slight nausea, but the core principle is still there.

Love.

She’s so giddy and warm.

“Oh! Come on, come into the house for breakfast, join me at the table. I’ll get a new pot of tea out, does that sound good?” It’ll be good for her, too— it’s a good thing she has those herbs on hand, or else she would be worried about any developments in her body she isn’t ready to have— the problem now, of course, will be to make sure neither of them pick up on her dropping additional leaves into her cup. Alya is persistent and keen and notices just about everything there is to notice, which means that unless she’s genuinely distracted by Nino, it’ll be impossible to dissuade her from asking questions.

Marinette readies herself, turns to the kitchen, and beckons the two of them to finish unlacing their boots while sitting the iron kettle on the oven to heat.

“Awh, I’m sorry, Mari. We’ve already eaten breakfast,” Nino has to help Alya, of course, because her petticoats are far too long and her stays are too thick with boning for her to bend properly for her feet.

“Oh? That’s alright. I think I have something you both will enjoy snacking on while I continue working on my stuff.” Marinette grins when they finally make it to the table. She moves the charms away and clears most of the space for there to be enough room for the three of them— she drops the unfinished charms into a corded bag, for now, tying the little string. “So. Do you remember the lover cookies?”

“Do I? The same cookies that made Nino realize that he did, in fact, have feelings for me?”

“Hard to imagine a time that you two didn’t date,” Marinette giggles. “But yes, those exactly.”

“I always knew I loved you,” Nino pouts. “My problem was I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Telling me ‘I love you’ would’ve been enough, you know.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Nino sighs. “We were all so caught up with the loss of Adrien that I didn’t know how to do anything.”

Marinette stops wiping at the table with her apron. Alya and Nino always remind her that she’s not the only one who misses their old friend. She never wanted to bring Adrien back because of her love— she wants to bring him back for everyone’s sake. Luka, Nino, Alya— their friends miss him. So dearly and so much— and talk about him as if he’s simply moved town, instead of being gone forever— but she’s never actually… explained that she plans on bringing him back. And now with the complicated mess of Chat Noir possibly being Adrien…

Oh, her head hurts. Just when she thought she could survive five more minutes not thinking about this tangled web. It’s as difficult to navigate as Plagg’s magic.

“Right, yes— I remember.”

“Mari?” Alya tilts her head, looking at how she massages her temples. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes— yes I’m okay. I just wish he were here.” Marinette smiles small, trying her best to ignore the way the seals on her ears burn. The two of them look at her with knowing gazes— they know she’s consumed some of the cookies herself. What they don’t know is that her heartache is actually pointing in an entirely different direction… or, perhaps, the same direction after all— just the person has a different name now. “I miss his laughter. I miss him— so I made lover honey cookies a couple of days ago, but I’m still in the process of making more, along with the charms. Would you two like to try them?”

Nino looked pained. “Are you making them for the festival?”

“Just in honor of our friend,” Marinette shares a private smile with herself. “It was his favorite, after all. It’s almost been ten years since he’s been gone.”

Alya’s eyes widen, looking down at the plate that Marinette puts in front of her with wide eyes. “Oh, how interesting. A cat shape?”

“Chat’s idea,” Marinette eagerly waits for them to try some, smiling a little bit wider. The cookies don’t snap in their mouths— still moist enough and sweet enough that it’s more of a chew than a crunch. The two of them hum appreciatively as Marinette takes a bit of time to pat off her apron clean of dirt. “What do you two think? Still good?”

“This tastes wonderful.” Alya sighs. “How is it that you make things taste like a whole fantasy? I feel like I’m biting into a cloud.”

“Guess it’s just part of my luck,” She giggles. “What do you think, Nino?”

“I think that, if I weren’t already with Alya, I’d confess my love to her on the spot all over again.” Nino’s face pinks. “This cookie is so strong. Did Chat try some?”

“He did.” She tries to hide her blushing and focuses instead on some dried-up flour on the edge of the table. “We both got love sick from all the cookies we ate. We probably ate a whole batch and a half, honestly— don’t do it. You’ll get overwhelmed with love.”

Alya hums with the cookie in her mouth, sharing a look with Nino. “Oh, really?”

“There’s no need to act all mysterious,” She shies, hiding her hands behind her, wringing her fingers through the laces of her apron. She looks to the single fire lily in the vase, how beautiful the blossom’s orange petals are, smiling to herself. “The cookies don’t make you feel love, but rather just amplify the feeling, and you two definitely know that. It wasn’t hard to put the context of his purring together with why we were getting overwhelmed.”

“Y—” Their eyes widen. Alya gasps. “So— he— you—”

Are there stars in her eyes? It feels like there are stars in her eyes. “We… talked about it.”

And other things. Lots of other things. Where was that bag of herbs, again?

“Chat Noir finally managed to confess?” Nino has to sit down from shock. “Holy hell!”

She sets out three tea trays, ignoring the way Alya looks at her knowingly when she sprinkles ginger root into one of the porcelain cups. Alya will accost her for that one later, that much is certain. “Wait, you— uhm. You knew?”

“Everyone does! Everyone knows that your familiar’s affections for you are much more than just friendly. Chat Noir has always— always— had his eyes on you, and has never concealed it.” Alya rolls her eyes. There’s a glitter in her smile, something that wasn’t there before, just proving to Marinette that she is absolutely going to get hounded the moment the two of them are alone. “I didn’t even need gossip for that one. His eyes follow you everywhere.”

“Oh. So, everyone, huh?” She blushes.

“Anyone with eyes can tell, yes.” Alya takes a seat next to Nino. She grabs for another cookie, nibbling on the tail, “Everyone could tell your affections for him, too. I was hoping something good would come out of it. Good to see that everything is well, in the end!”

“So are you two… together?” Nino doesn’t let Marinette steam behind her hands for very long. “Actually actually?”

“Uhm— well— I hope so. I think so. We talked about it—” Alya’s snorts cut her off, hiding a ‘yeah, and more’ under her breath. Marinette steams harder. “Uhm— and I really do think we’ll be together for a long time.”

“Is that even allowed for demons?”

“I don’t think we’re breaking any rules,” She rubs at her earlobes. Yet another thing to consider… “Uhm. Maybe I’ll have to talk to him about it. Who knows? He could be fine, considering his father—”

“Is 'the king of hell'.” Alya curls her smile. “And so, with a kiss, Marinette has accepted his propaganda.”

They have no idea how confusing it gets, do they? To know that Chat Noir could absolutely be telling the truth, and furthermore— the shenanigans that Plagg caused? She snorts behind a hand, thinking of how to even begin breaching the topic of a god stopping by to prank a witch and his demon son. Even if he really isn’t the king of hell, he’s certainly showing that he’s living up to the name… she can’t stop giggling. “Let’s hope he’s telling the truth. Why don’t you two enjoy some more cookies while I work on more of my charms? Or should we go to the field now?”

AO3 | Start Here | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[aweebwrites]

Move on Dragons Ch27

The day was a rare one. Everyone was present just outside the Bounty, the elders, their dragon selves, the ninja, Morro and the twins all present. A massive space was being taken up by the dark dragon elder who was flat on his back, taking in the sunny day. The temperatures were rather warm for winter due to the location but they were still noticeably low, lower still at the top of the tower. So with no immediate need for them, all nine dragons came down to soak up some sun. Wu was more reserved, laying on his stomach with Morro tucked into his side, their eyes closed in a light doze while his brother was determined to get as much sun as possible.

And well, his adopted sons were weak to such an opportunity. Which was why he had Lloydie and Kai at his sides, on his wings on their backs as well but they kept their wings closed so they could press against his sides, both dragons purring in content as Lloyd laid sprawled out on the massive black dragon’s head, one of his famous Horns of Destruction pressing against his side and preventing him from falling off. The rest of the dragons were piled together with the rest of the ninja team in various positions on their bodies, Shard blowing snowflakes to keep the energy filled twins busy, chasing the shimmering white carvings of ice as they fell, chirping and roaring in glee as they hit their scales as cool water drops.

All and all, it was a good day. A great one even. No-one had thought much of the approaching sound of quick wing beats, as the dragons liked to race across the sky. That was, until-

‘Elders! Elders help!’ Garmadad was on his feet in seconds, his large wings curling around both of his larger sons and the upward tilt of his snout he kept being the only things keeping his sons from flying off him.

Both he and Wu who were now on their feet looked to where the metal dragon was flying in fast, almost crash landing in her rush.

‘Silver. What has happened?’ Wu asked the silver coloured dragon as she panted heavily.

‘Torch!’ She huffed out before drawing in a deep breath. ‘We were through the forests close to the city and we got separated! When I found her, she was- she sleeping in some strange looking bushes along with a lot of other creatures but she wouldn’t wake up! I tried getting to her but when I tried to get closer, I started feeling sleepy! I figured that must have been what happened to Torch so I didn’t get any closer- so I tried calling out to her instead but she won’t wake up! No matter how loudly I call her nor how much I throw rocks!’ She told them woefully and the brothers were immediately troubled by this.

‘I’ve read of this world’s flora and one comes to mind.’ Wu says to his brother as the others gathered around, curious about the commotion.

‘Their Charming Flowers.’ Garmadad agrees, puzzling over how they could save their fallen dragon. ‘We must go. Perhaps my powers will be able to destroy the plants.’ He says, turning to Wu.

‘Do not be quick to rely on your destructive powers brother. You have yet to hone them. It is too great of a risk.’ Wu admonishes and Garmadad grumbles but he knew that was true.

There hasn’t been a moment to tame these abilities of his, what with all that happened after the fight against the Oni of their world.

‘We can’t sit around here and do nothing though.’ Lloydie protests, walking up to his father and uncle, Kai by his side.

‘Yeah. It’s obvious if we don’t wake them up somehow then they’ll stay asleep forever.’ Kai rumbled, looking up at the two.

“We have to get to the location to gauge the situation.” Zane pointed out. “My database tells me those who fall asleep under the flower’s influence will not wake so we are running out of time. We don’t know if removing Torch from the flowers will have her wake up naturally or if we need to do more to wake her up afterwards. Point is, we have a little less than three days to wake her up before she passes from dehydration.” He told them, watching the horrified looks that crossed the dragon’s face, save for Silver who didn’t understand human language.

“Then we haven’t a moment to spare.” Wu says, spreading his wing. ‘Silver, take us to the location.’ He requests and she nodded, flying off, both brothers taking off as well.

“We’ll follow with the Bounty.” Pixal says as she climbed up the ladder to the ship’s deck.

“You guys go. I’ll stay back at the tower. With both Uncle and my dad gone, someone has to keep an eye on things here.” Lloydie told the others.

“I’ll stay too. Two eyes are better than one.” Morro says as he walked over and Lloyd nodded, watching as the rest flew off as well.

“We’ll look after these two too.” Lloyd says, walking over to where Nix and Rux were looking at them in confusion but were cautious enough with the sudden change in atmosphere to stick close to Cole.

“Are you sure? I can stay if you need.” Cole offered.

“Yes, we’re sure. Our fathers will need your help. We may have been here for some time but this world is not ours. We are unused to it still.” Morro told them before he leaned down and picked Rux up by the back of his neck, the latter tucking his feet and wings close as he did.

“Go on. We’ll wait for you to get back.” Lloyd told them, doing the same to Nix before they spread their wings and flew off, back to the tower.

“We better hurry.” Nya says and they quickly spread their wings and flew up to the ship as Pixal began taking off.

____ The trip to the Forest of Tranquility was a short one, the group catching up with the dragons just at the outskirts of the forest. Already they faced a problem. As large as the Forest of Tranquility and its trees were, the elders were finding it impossible to fly through the thicket of trees, their bodies too large. Luckily, they could track Silver from above and fit through the trees by walking with their wings close.

‘She’s over there.’ Silver pointed out with her snout to the orange-red dragon fast asleep amidst a large bed of Charming flowers, animals and even people asleep around her. ‘I left this log here so I remember not to go any further.’ She rumbled, nudging said log blocking the path ahead.

“This is the largest gathering of Charming Flowers ever recorded.” Pixal says as she and the others came over as well. “They’re known to sprout in groups but this is several times larger than their standard patches.” She told them with a frown.

“But signs show that volcanic ash from the Temple of Fire seemed to have blown this way and greatly enriched the soil…” Zane murmured, scanning the faint patches of gray on the ground. “That combined with their abnormal grouping must have strengthened the flower’s influence.” He murmured in thought then lifted his head.

“Nevertheless, Pixal and I should be able to cut and kill the plants so everyone else can get to her.” He says as he turned to the elders who nodded.

“Be careful however. While we are unfamiliar with this world still, we are familiar with the magic that runs untamed in this world… And those plants have a lot of it.” Garmadad told them and they nodded before walking forward, Zane pulling out a kunai to cut the plants if needed while Pixal prepared her in arm saw.

They walked around the log, Zane leading the way- before he froze just two steps ahead, the wings he hadn’t bothered putting away flaring open wide to stop Pixal.

“Zane, what’s-”

“We can’t get to the plants.” Zane interrupted Cole’s call of concern.

“I’m afraid Zane is correct.” Pixal says as they backed away from the plants, Pixal holding her head. “The plant’s magic seems to be able to work on us as well. My sleep protocol was being activated on it’s own.” She told them as they retreated safely behind the log.

“Then-! How are we gonna save Torch and those other animals?!” Jay sputtered.

“We have to think.” Shard spoke up, sitting on his haunches to place a curled paw under his chin while the other supported his arm- a very human pose. “None of us can get close enough to the plants without falling under their influence but we still need to get close enough to destroy the plants. And I suppose none of you have any tools or means to reach from a distance?” He asked, looking to the ninja.

“Sadly, no.” Nya told them. “They’re way too far out for any tools we have and even if we did have something that long, it’ll be easier said than done moving it around through the trees, not to mention the fact that it would be time consuming. That and the weight of it would also become a problem.” She explained.

“Kai and I could try burning them but we aren’t certain if those other creatures are even alive.” Blaze says with a frown, glancing across at his doppelganger next to him.

“That and we’d cause a massive forest fire and endanger a lot of people.” Kai pointed out.

“Ice won’t be very helpful. We’d only end up freezing everyone and in order to get anyone out, we need to break the ice around them- and the plants will be in that ice around them.” Zane ruled out.

“Water’s a no go here too. There’s nothing we can do that wouldn’t risk Silver drowning.” Mist says and Nya nodded her agreement.

“Lightning’s a bust too. We’d either start a forest fire or electrocute Silver.” Jay shrugged, Wisp nodding his agreement.

“Earth won’t be able to do much either. We might crush someone- or worse.” Rocky spoke up and Cole nodded his agreement as well.

“My energy won’t do much. My powers kind of evolved out of shields.” Lloyd reported with a shake of his head, beady red eyes watching them from his hair.

“... Perhaps I could create a means to remove the flowers- or at the very least, it’s captors. But what?” Wu questioned in thought.

“That’s what we have to figure out, and soon.” Garmadad rumbled then draped a wing low, over Silver’s back as she watched Torch with pain in her eyes. ‘We will free her.’ He promised her, intent on keeping his word and she looked up at him hopefully before she nodded and looked back to her partner.

________

Thinking of something was easy. Thinking of something effective- and something that would actually work? Not so much. But this? This was their best idea yet. A means of transport that was air tight, that was small enough to get by the large trees with ease while having tools and equipment to extract and remove the flowers from the area. They had no time to build it manually so they took an emergency visit to Borg Tower for some supplied Cyrus gladly offered to them while eyeing the winged ninja curiously, and returned to the forest.

“Ok. Let’s do this.” Cole says, cracking his knuckles as all six of them stood around the pile of parts and equipment.

“Right.” Kai nodded in his more humane form before he activated his Spinjitzu, the others doing so shortly after before they began to converge, the dragons watching them as they did to create the Tornado of Creation.

In seconds, the parts and tools they sucked in became a small four wheeled vehicle with a glass capping at the top for easy viewing.

“Alright, I’ll go and see how fast we can cut this puppy down.” Nya says as she walked towards it, opening the glass hatch to slide inside.

“Be careful sis.” Kai told her, watching as she situated herself with the controls.

“Don’t worry, I will.” She reassured, flashing him a grin before she slid the hatch back into place and started it up.

The group watched hopefully as she drove ahead, passing the log and slowly driving closer. They watched with breaths held as she inched closer- then deflated once she came to a stop, reversing almost immediately after.

“The plant’s magic is too strong.” Garmadad rumbled, clearly as displeased as the rest of them.

Night was already falling and they just took a step back from any chances of rescuing Torch.

“Any chance of you guys having magic dragons?” Jay asked dryly, flopping down to sit with a frown on his face.

“Magic isn’t an element.” Shard pointed out.

“And metal is?” Jay pointed out with an arched brow. “Uh, no offense.” He added, looking to Silver who wasn’t even paying attention, being unable to understand them as she was.

“So sayeth the master of lightning.” Garmadad says dryly and Jay looked up at him insulted to have two Garmadons having used that quip on him now as Cole laughed.

“Snap, he got you again!” He chuckled and Jay stuck his tongue out at him.

Cole’s amusement didn’t last long though, watching the others help Nya out. No-one could get close without the threat of falling prey as well. He couldn’t help but think that he could have rescued Torch ages ago… If he was still a ghost.

______

Attempts came and went, all failing, all falling short. They were running out of time. It’s been roughly two days since they’ve arrived and they were all growing desperate. Nothing Wu created could help, nothing they thought of would work and Silver had tried twice already to throw herself into harm's way. They understood. She was watching her partner die right in front of her and they could do nothing to help. They had a few hours at best. They had to think of something. Had to keep trying. Cole was helpless to watch as his friends spent hours trying to solve this, running on as little as no sleep to just a few hours since they arrived.

The solution was simple yet so out of grasp. They needed an entity that wouldn’t be swayed by sleep magic, an entity that didn’t need to sleep. They needed a ghost. A ghost that could become solid at will, a ghost that would destroy and remove the plants so they could work on waking Torch up. He glanced at the rest of the team as they pitched ideas back and forth in the bridge, looking a bit worse for wear then headed down on the deck, finding the dragons in a similar huddle. If only he was a ghost still. Then, he could have saved them all the trouble.

He gave a dry huff then looked to the sky. He never thought there’d be a day where he actually wanted to be a ghost. Cole blinked then, a frown tugging his lips downwards as he felt his hands starting to go… Numb, the feeling spreading all over. He stepped back from the railings, bewildered as his sense of bodily awareness went… Mute. The last time he felt like this he was- Cole’s head snapped up as he gasped, realising what was happening now. No way… Was he actually… The low green glow that washed over him confirmed it as he watched himself becoming more transparent. This was almost exactly what they needed! He just needed to make himself solid! But could he even control it? He didn’t know how…

He thought back to all the times he did become solid. How did he do it? He didn’t put a lot of thought into it, he knows. When he had strong, positive emotions, he became solid in their room that first time. Afterwards, he wanted to do something that required him to be solid and when he went to do it, he just was. That made him think. It surely was worth the try.

“Wh- Cole?! Why are you a ghost again?!” Kai yelled down at him and Cole shot him a grin.

“We’ll figure that out later! Right now, I have a dragon to save!” Cole yelled back before he floated up to the bridge and towards the weapons closet as the others exclaimed behind him.

He flexed his fingers before he reached out for the handle, grinning once he became solid to grip it then opened it.

“It’s been a while.” He says fondly, pulling out his scythe and looked it over. “Time to kill a plant.” He grinned before he headed out the others following after him.

“Wait! We don’t know how the plant affects ghosts! This is magic, remember?!” Zane called after him.

“Sleeping magic. Ghosts don’t need to sleep so I should be good.” Cole dismissed, hopping over the railings.

“Should?!” Jay sputtered as they hopped over too. “Should isn’t secure enough! You’re somehow a ghost right now Cole! If you fall asleep, you might sink into the planet! How will we save you then?!” He yelled, jogging to catch up.

“That won’t happen though.” Cole shrugged, striding forward with purpose still.

“You don’t know that for sure!” Pixal protests.

“Well, we’re about to find out anyway.” Cole grinned, hopping over the log before charging forward with a run.

He just hopes this thing really doesn’t affect him… He was closing the distance between him and the slumbering dragon quickly, already reaching much farther than any of their attempts did. It was working! He’s so close! He swung his scythe back as he approached the massive bed of plants with their circular flowers hung low and immediately began slicing into them from the root, careful to not hurt the large dragon sleeping there.

“Oh my gosh! He’s actually doing it!” Jay grinned from a safe distance.

“But there’s a problem.” Zane warns, his eyes glowing brighter as he used his zoom feature to get a better look. “Torch is sleeping on a large amount of the flowers. In order to make the area safe enough for us to approach, he needs to get rid of 85% of the plants- 50% of which is located under Torch.” He told them and the team pondered on what to do.

“If only my powers were better honed. I coil destroy the plants without the need to move Torch.” Garmadad says with visible frustration and Wu lifted his head, getting an idea.

He sat on his haunches, bringing his front paws together and focusing his energy there, gaining Garmadad’s attention.

“You have an idea?” He asked his brother who only nods once, focusing.

The smokey gold orb of light focused, taking the shape of two circles. When the light finally vanished, there were two gold rings in his paws, confusing everyone.

"What are those supposed to do?" Wisp asked curiously as Wu gestured for Garm to lower his head.

“They are meant to focus and better control my brother’s powers so he may use them without worry they may go awry.” Wu explained as he slipped them onto his older brother’s prominent horns of destruction, the bands stopping mid way.

“Of course! The solution is so obvious now!” Blaze yelled as he face-winged.

“Now is as good as a time as ever to test how well they work.” Garmadad says, rolling his wings before gathering his destructive powers, the black/purple energy gathering between his horns and flickering lightly over his body. “Stand aside Cole.” He called and Cole’s head jolted up at his voice before he quickly backed up out of the way.

He shot a streamlined blast of his destructive energy ahead, keeping his intentions on destroying the flowers- and to his amazement, it impacted- and immediately began turning all the Charming Flowers in the large gathering of it to ash. Seeing the cursed flowers that threatened to take her partner away from her finally starting to fade to ash, Silver couldn’t stay away another moment. She charged ahead for the third time- this time breaking away successfully as the group hadn’t expected her to suddenly take off. The air didn’t have that warm, hazy air to it anymore and it only pushed her to run faster.

‘Torch! Torch wake up!’ She roared as she finally crossed the space between them, nudging her insistently. ‘Come on Torch! This isn’t the time to nap!’ She insists, tugging at her wing with her snout.

“The others?” Garm asked Cole in a low tone once he and the others walked over, the rest focusing on Torch.

Cole sighed as he stood from where a middle aged man laid and shook his head.

“Just Torch.” He told him and Garmadon gave a mournful nod.

“We will give them all a proper burial.” He told him and Cole nodded then turned to where Wu had immediately began instructing Mist to feed Torch some water, holding her head at a certain angle to avoid water in her lungs.

‘Why isn’t she waking up?’ Silver asked the white scaled elder with watery eyes, keeping close to her partner.

‘It might be the plant’s effect taking some time to leave her body.’ Wu told her. ‘But the sooner she awakens, the better. Perhaps this will help...’ He added, taking out a very small- by his standards- bag attached to a rope and passed it by her nose.

Torch jolted awake then on her feet and bewildered.

‘Huh? What?’ She asked, blinking quickly a few times before she lifted a paw to rub her eyes. ‘What happened?’ She asked then froze when she caught sight of Silver as tears slid down her scales.

‘Silver?’ Torch whispered softly, brushing her wing against the side of her face.

‘Torch… You…’ Silver’s voice wavered. ‘You… You idiot!’ The group startles once Silver smacked Torch over the head with a suddenly solid metal wing.

‘Ow!’

‘I told you to be careful flying in here! You almost died!’ Silver yelled at her as Torch rubbed her throbbing head, pouting.

“Well. Looks like Torch is alright. Save for a nasty bump on the head I’m sure she’ll have.” Wisp says dryly as Silver continued to scold Torch.

“But what about you, Cole? How did you become a ghost again?” Lloyd asked, looking towards their friendly ninja ghost.

“I’m not too sure to be honest. I mean, this time I actually wanted to be a ghost since ghosts don’t sleep and I could have cut those weeds to size. But I guess I didn’t consider the parts Torch was laying on.” He shrugged then looked at his hand. “I’d love to be human again though.” He mumbled then had a feeling of sudden heaviness- and he was!

“Woah!”

“You can become a ghost at will now?” Blaze asked, looking him over curiously as Cole flexed his fingers.

“Looks like it.” He grinned up at him and his friends. “Now this, I can get used to.” He says, flicking back and forth between ghost and human once more to test it.

“We’ll have to get used to that later.” Pixal told them, Zane agreeing.

“It appears that the plant’s magical energy has been keeping them perfectly preserved. But now that it’s gone…” Zane trailed off, looking towards the people and animals that still looked peacefully asleep.

“Right. Let’s put them to rest.” Cole whispered softly.

______

They returned back to the Labyrinth once the short burial was over and a check of the entire forest was done to eradicate large blooms of the Charming Flowers and those that managed to lull victims into their beds, they headed back to the Labyrinth. Torch and Silver were immediately greeted by friends once they arrived, all glad that they were both safe and laughing at the visible bump on Torch’s head.

“Welcome back. I’m glad you guys managed to save her.” Lloydie says as he and Morro greeted them, purring happily under their fathers’ greeting nuzzles.

“It was not an easy feat but it was one of opportunities.” Wu murmured, nuzzling Morro, the smaller dragon tilting up for more.

“You’ve both done well looking after the dragons in our absence. You will both be great leaders one day.” Garmadad praised them both.

“Nix! I missed you too!” Jay laughed as Nix tackled him over, nuzzling him fervently as he gave happy chirps and coos.

“Were you good for Morro and Lloyd?” Kai asked Rux as he stroked his head Cole holding him up in his arms.

Rux only gave them large eyes and a coo both ninja immediately took as a no.

“Of course.” Cole huffed at him.

“Well, another successful mission. It was touch and go but hey! Cole’s leveled up on powers!” Kai grinned, patting Cole on his back.

“Again.” Pixal added, recalling his lava arms.

“Honestly, after becoming a ghost twice in a pretty traumatic way, I think he deserves it.” Nya shrugged and the others had to agree.

“Now if only we could hear a word from Sensei Wu…”

_____________ (Loooong chapter update, yes but only because I'm taking the next 5 days to finish up a fic for Loving Cryptor Day on the 25th. I doubt it'll take that long to finish but It will actually be a pretty long fic so I'll take these five days just in case. After wards- or on the same day- I'll post the start of the finale and get down into business to wrap things up! That aside I really liked the idea of Cole also getting to keep his ghost powers so yea! Downside is that water in that form can still kill him so He won't always be keen to using it. Next chapter will begin with a time skip! Thanks for reading!)

[ohdeer-malia]

► ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU ✘ plotted with @lostvacvnt​ 

SWEAT drips from Malia’s hairline. In fact, sweat drips from pretty much every pore on Malia’s body. The sun is sizzling her skin as if she’s a strip of bacon on a griddle. Mmm, bacon. She would kill for a piece of bacon. In fact, she might have to.

BEACON HILLS, the place she used to call home, is a G H O S T  T O W N. A shell of its former self, it’s former glory...well, if you can even say it had any glory. Whatever it had, it was a hell of a lot better than this. Buildings were crumbled. Windows were shattered. Businesses were looted. It was Hell on Earth. 

Malia had dealt with a lot of supernatural shit, but not once did she ever think she’d have to deal with zombies. Walkers, Biters, Roamers, Lurkers, the Undead, THE INFECTED—whatever you wanted to call them—freaking sucked. Hard. They were pretty stupid because, hello, rotting brains, but they were fast as hell. They were ruthless. If they got their hands on you, might as well start practicing your zombie growls.

Her stomach rumbles lowly, reminding her at the business at hand. Right, bacon. More specifically, food. A hoard of those UNDEAD BASTARDS had holed her up in her bunker, preventing her from leaving. She had run out of ammo, so she couldn’t blast her way out. It was a waiting game. A game that lasted three days. She ran out of food halfway through day two and ran out of water the morning of day three. As soon as she was able to get out, she stocked up on shells immediately. Now it was time to get food. What good was a shotgun for protection from the outside if you were already dying from the inside from starvation?

Since there’s no power throughout the town, Malia has to push the doors open herself. She plants her feet, her cheeks puffing out and she pushes with all her might. The doors seem to be rusted on the tracks. Great. With one final grunt, she manages to force the doors open just enough to slip inside. As soon as she’s in, the doors immediately slide shut, thankfully without a sound.

She keeps her footsteps light as she makes her way through the aisles. Though bacon sounds good, she needs non perishables. Canned food. They didn’t taste the best, but they’d keep her ALIVE. She wouldn’t have to worry about lurkers smelling meat and raiding her stash either. She pulls her olive green knapsack off her back and begins filling it with as much stuff as it can hold. Beans? Yup. Rice? Sure. Dehydrated bacon strips that might be for dogs? ...Sure. That’ll do.

Chips! Oh god, chips would be great. They had to be around here somewhere. Malia slings her knapsack over her back, opens the pack of bacon strips and takes one out to nibble on. If they were for dogs, she couldn’t tell the difference.

Most of the aisles were bare or on their way to being bare. Had to be the looting. Whenever someone or something raised just a little anarchy, humans lost their shit. Malia likes to think that she keeps her cool, well, when she needs to. There were times when a little heat was needed. 

Malia’s in the middle of grabbing another strip when she hears a low mumble. She freezes in her spot, listening for more. It sounds almost...melodic? Like someone is...singing? 

She closes the bag and slips it into the side pouch of her bag before creeping into of the aisles to hide. It’s getting closer, louder and farther off from the key it’s supposed to be on. Malia’s not the biggest Miley Cyrus fan but she can recognise Wrecking Ball and also recognise that who ever is singing it is getting the words all wrong. 

Making as little noise as possible, Malia pulls her shotgun out from off her back. She presses herself against the shelves, careful not to accidentally knock anything off. Whoever it is is approaching the chorus (and her) pretty quickly. Once the person is close enough that Malia can hear their footsteps, she steps out. Her chin is tilted down, her dark brows low and her shotgun pointed directly at them. 

[spacegate]

Keetah’s guide on bug out / get home bags.

LIKE I PROMISED, here is a bug out bag I designed using Amazon wishlists. Get me one of these and I will be forever happy! HOWEVER, the main purpose is to show you guys what things you may need if you ever want to put together a bug out /get home bag!

A bug out / get home bag is a bag designed to keep you alive during some sort of disaster that can be easily grabbed and carried. A wildfire is approaching out house, civil unrest is in the street, you are somewhere else and you need to get home on foot, or travel somewhere on foot. You need to grab your things and get out!

KEEP IN MIND, THIS BAG IS DESIGNED FOR TEMPERATE FORESTS AND STEALTH. Please keep in mind the environment in which you live and plan accordingly! For example, if you live in the desert, you are going to want to carry extra water. If you live in a tropical rain-forest, you are going to want mosquito nets and rubber treated supplies. 

If you want to be found and rescued, choose colors like SHINY SILVER and ORANGE. Both are bright attention grabbers. If you want to remain unseen, choose colors like olive drab and dark brown. 

Now without further ado, check the cut below to read up!

THE BAG

When selecting a bag, there are many options to consider. Some bags have compartments that can store water. Some bags are waterproof. Others have less storage space but are very comfortable to wear. Some have straps to help distribute the load on your body. It’s important to research for yourself what bag you will want. You want to consider durability as it will probably get thrown around a lot. I also recommend a bag that has the MOLLE straps. These are straps on the bag where you can hang tools and other bags on. They make things easy to get to!

For example, here is a really good backpack, and extra MOLLE pouches to attach to the bag.

With the bag you can also get a tactical belt. Especially one that is MOLLE compatible. That way you have essential items right there and easy to grab while taking some weight off your back.

TOOLS

Tools are things you can use over and over and are essential to your survival. Will will need to chop, cut, hammer, tighten, loosen, or even break objects. Mankind has made tools for thousands of years, and thankfully you can buy some premade. These are things you should keep on hand and close to the outside of the bag so you can grab them quickly.

It’s recommended you have these.

A good knife: Preferable smooth blade. If you want stealth you can have the blade blackened. You will use a knife for a lot of things, but mostly processing game. 

A hatchet: Same with a knife. What I like about hatchets is that you can use the other side of the head as a hammer. You will mostly need this for wood and also to process game. You could also use a machete instead if you prefer that!

Shemagh: It’s a scarf/blanket/bandanna all in one! You can also get bandannas! You use these to cover your face from skeeters, protect your face from cold or the sun, filter water, a sling for an injured arm, and other uses. [MORE REASONS TO CARRY ONE]

Paracord: a MUST HAVE. [USES FOR PARACORD] Can be used for fires, hanging up things to dry, lashing shelter, and other things :D You can also get them as bracelets so you always have some handy!

A portable radio: You need to have a way to listen and hear when it’s safe to go home. Most are solar or hand cranked powered, and some has a usb port to charge your phone and other electronic devices.

Multi-tool: The kind with pliers and other do dads inside. Invaluable!

Entrenching tool: For digging holes. Also can be folded down into different uses! You can use these for digging holes to pit roast game as well.

Light sources: You can choose things such as LED Flashlights or a hands off headlamp. Make sure if you need batteries, to pack extra! I figure the headlamp would be best, as your hands are free to perform tasks in the dark.

Socks and Gloves: You need to protect your feet and hands! For socks you should have two pairs, and they should be made of wool and waterproof. For gloves, you should look into a pair that keeps your hands warm and will protect you from cuts and pokes. 

Med kit: You don’t need to take the whole pharmacy with you, but you do need some essentials and you are free to customize and put them in whatever container you like. What you should have is bandages, gauze, medical tape, gloves, tweezers, scissors, painkillers, itch/bug/burn relief,  tourniquets, tums. Basic things. [AN EXAMPLE OF A CUSTOM KIT] [BUDGET CUSTOM KIT]

Binoculars. Compact ones will work great! Lets you see long distances!

Field sharpener: You NEED to keep your tools sharp! [HOW TO USE THIS PARTICULAR SHARPENER] [SHARPENING YOUR KNIFE WITH A ROCK]

NAVIGATION

This is a section that honestly depends on where you live. I recommend for everyone, a local map or your state map. A good compass will also help you out. Beware of items made of steel with compasses built into them, they won’t give you accurate readings! Ranger beads and pace counters can also help you keep track on how far you have traveled.

.....I can’t really recommend brands or anything else, cause I actually can’t read maps :X But I’m working on fixing that! These days it’s hard to be lost lost in the woods, since urban sprawl. If you are lost and need to find civilization, sometimes following a river downstream will help. 

ON GUNS/WEAPONS.

You may notice that in my pack, I don’t have any weapons. No guns or crossbows or the like. Why? Guns and crossbows require a LOT of upkeep. Did you know that you have to clean a gun after each use because the gunpowder can corrode the inner barrel? Not many people do, and I can’t in good faith recommend a gun. Guns take skill and time to learn. You CANNOT just pick up a gun and expect to learn on the go. That’s how you end up with accidents with deadly consequences. If you personally want a gun, go for it! However, sign up for lessons and practice in a shooting range. You MUST practice and learn about your weapon BEFORE disaster strikes. Even crossbows need maintenance to keep the bows and strings in good condition. If either of these breaks, you’re out of luck unless you know how to repair them. And ammo is very finite. I always recommend blades because not only can they perform other functions, but they are easier to care for and don’t rely on ammunition. If you’d like a weapon, pack it, but be careful! Also, never underestimate something as simple and ancient like slings and slingshots! They can still pack a punch! Also consider MACE and TASERS. 

FIRE

Fire is important as it can not only keep you warm, but it can cook your food, boil water, and even signal for help if you need it. Remember the redundancy is key. You should have multiple ways to start a fire. You don't want to lose your firestarter without any backups! [ How to build a fire in wet weather! ] If you don’t want to be seen, build small fires and try to use cover to block the light, such as at the bottom of a hill or a cliff. If you want to be noticed, build big fires and during the day, throw in leaves to produce more smoke. Smoke also repels mosquitoes and other bug pests!

It’s recommended you have these.

A magnesium fire strike rod: [HOW TO USE]

A really good zippo or a couple bic lighters

Storm-proof matches: You can make your own by dipping match heads in wax, and then scraping it off before use. Make sure you have strikers! Be sure to keep them in a waterproof container!

Fatwood:  Fatwood is tinder you can buy that either comes in rods, chunks, or dust. It catches on fire super easy.  You can also buy powdered magnesium, which catches fire well too!

A mirror/magnifying glass, or even a pair of glasses: You can use these to start a fire. [ HOW TO USE ]

Pencil sharpener: Get a big one. Not only can it shave tinder down super fine, but it also has other uses like making spears! 

Candles. I recommend beeswax candles, because you can also use the wax to waterproof matches, strengthen thread for sewing, and can waterproof your shoes! 

FOOD

Food should be packed depending on the situation. You will need emergency food, but you should eat them as a last resort. You should first consume what you can hunt and forage for first. You would be surprised at all the things you can find to eat out in the wild! 

It’s recommended you have these.

Hard candies/boiled sweets: They provide a boost of sugar and carbs to give you a little energy. They give you something to suck on and prevent hunger from getting too bad. They are light and are easy to pack. Also a great moral boost!

Freeze Dried food: Preferable to canned food because of the weight. Dehydrated food weighs very little and it’s compact, so you can carry a lot. You just add hot or cold water and you have a meal. 

Other foods: Other foods that travel well are things like rice, fruit leathers, instant oatmeal, pouches of tuna/spam, and even those little potted meat meals you can get at the store. 

Drinks: Not needed, but provides a very important mental health boost. Things like powdered lemon-aide mix, instant hot chocolate, or electrolyte powder can give you a much needed sense of comfort in a scary situation.

Snare wires, rat traps and a fishing kit: Lets you catch sources of protein. You should eat these first so you can save your stored food. Rat traps let you catch squirrels or even big rats. You can buy emergency fishing kits with collapsible fishing rods. Snares let you cat squirrels and rabbits. All small game mostly. [HOW TO SET SNARES] [LEARN ABOUT FISHING] [ WARNING: GRAPHIC!!! Butchering: FISH | RABBIT | SQUIRREL] [MAKING A FISH SPEAR]

Books: Should be lightweight. I recommend getting books in identifying edible plants as well as basic bush cooking. You can pick up specific books in mushrooms and tubers too. MAKE SURE THE BOOK YOU GET HAS COLOR PICTURES!

Mess kit: You can buy all in one mess kits that can collapse down to reduce weight. You should at least have a bowl, cup, eating tool like a spork or so, and a way to boil water. Most mess kits are designed to go over coals or small stoves, NOT in direct flame. You can buy some very complete mess kits out there!

A stove: For cooking. I recommend an Esbit stove. They are lightweight and folds down. It takes fuel tabs and they burn hot! The stove is quiet and easy to carry. [COOKING ON AN ESBIT STOVE] Make sure to stock up on extra fuel tabs!

Spices: Salt is a must for human survival, but you can also pack pepper and other spices to jazz up wild food. You can also carry olive oil and the like! Be sure it’s in secure containers.

Vitamins: The pouch gummy ones are easier to carry. Try to get a multivitamin that has both Vitamin C, Calcium, magnesium, and iron. Your diet in the wild will be very random so you may not get all you need to function. After weeks, scurvy can be a real issue you may face. 

Why did I not mention MRES? Well because MRES are heavier than a few packets of rice or dehydrated food. Americn MRES are designed to make you constipated, and the last thing you need is to feel ill like that in the middle of the woods. 

WATER

YOU NEED WATER TO SURVIVE. The first thing you should look for when in the woods is a source of water. However, just because the water LOOKS clean, doesn’t mean it is! BE SURE TO BOIL/TREAT ALL WATER BEFORE YOU DRINK/COOK WITH IT. 

It’s recommended you have these.

A good metal canteen with a canteen cup. You can sometimes get these from army surplus stores. Be sure it’s a single wall canteen/water bottle, cause if it’s double walled it can explode if too close to a fire. You can pick up a lid to go with your cup so you can cook in it! You can even make bread in a canteen cup! 

Water purification tabs: Add a few of these to water to kill the bacteria and parasites. You can also get liquid iodine and it works the same way. 

Life straw: It’s a portable water filter that can literally save your life. For when you don’t have time to boil and treat water, you can just drink with the straw. LIFESTRAW DOES NOE FILTER VIRUSES.

SHELTER

You need shelter in order to survive. If you can carry it, you can have a small one person tent. You can have hammocks or even just tarp staked to the ground. Whatever it is, it must be waterproof. The shelter you select should reflect the area in where you live. If you live in cold areas, you need to beef up your shelters.

It’s recommended you have these.

A really good rain poncho. Something that can keep you dry. Some military grade ones can be turned into a tent!

A bivvy bag: What it is is a portable sleeping bag that’s really light and keeps you warm and dry. However condensation can build up from your body heat on the inside.

Small portable tent: You can get a kit like this or simply use a waterproof tarp and some rope to get the same affect. [HOW TO TURN A TARP INTO A TENT]

Optional, but you can also pack space blankets. Not only can they be used for heat, but you can also collect water, make shelters, sit on it to protect ur butt from wet ground, or signal for help.

You can also buy actual tents, but be sure to choose one that can be carried and can be set up in the dark!!!

Tent spikes: You can get lightweight plastic ones, but you can also use rocks to do the same thing, even small sticks!

MISC

Things that don’t fit in an easy category but you still should consider bringing along with you. This includes random things and cleaning supplies, which is important. Being clean not only prevents you from getting sick, but it also is a huge moral booster.

It’s recommended you have these.

Kleenex travel packs and Wet wipes: To keep your hands clean, clean a wound, and you can use the Kleenex as toilet paper.

A towel: You can buy some that are compacted so it’s easier to travel with! You can also use a towel other than for cleaning.

Nontoxic camp soap: Non scented so you don’t attract unwelcome wildlife nor leave your scent on your traps. Also won’t harm fish and animals if you wash in the local water.

Waterproof containers: To protect sensitive gear from the elements or a spill!

Duct tape: Can perform a wide amount of functions such as making spears and building shelters.

Handwarmers: Can protect your toes and your hands from cold. A little bit of heat can be the difference between life and death.

Random toiletries: Sure you can bring toothbrushes and lotion, but be sure it’s lightweight and unscented. 

Seeds: This depends on how bad the disaster is. If you are going to be stuck somewhere for weeks and weeks, you might have time to sow and harvest a garden. This you can consume before your stored food.

Bug spray: A MUST. Mosquitoes carry diseases and the last thing you want is to be sick in the middle of the woods!

Clothes. Extra underwear and light clothing if you have the space!

RECOMMENDED YOUTUBE CHANNELS

Townsends: A 18th century enthusiast that does a lot of campfire cooking tutorials as well as old school survival.

Ultimate Survival Tips: What it is says on the tin!

Primitive Technology: A guy in the Aussie bush making stone age tools and shelters. Turn on CC because he has commentary on his videos, but never says an actual word.

Sigma 3 Survival School: Has a little bit of everything!

Survival On Purpose: Tests a lot of gear so you can make informed buys!

Thank you all for reading and I hope this helps you all out!

[moritzstiefelwiki]

Nothing

1288 words | Ao3

This follows Moritz from his suicide to the end of the play. His suicide and Martha being abused are both mentioned in this.  It’s late and I’m tired and my usual beta reader is sleeping like a sensible person would be at this hour so I’m not sure how coherent everything is. Please tell me if you find any jumbled nonsense or spelling/grammar errors! Thanks for reading :) 

It didn't happen right away.

After he shot himself he was wrapped in nothing. It wasn't dark or light or hot or cold or wet or dry or anything at all. But it didn't last. He didn't know how long it was before he started to flicker in and out of the world.

At first it just felt like a scratch. Like a lot of scratches. Something clawing at his arms, his legs, his face before disappearing again and leaving little marks behind. It came and went and covered more and more of him, never the same place twice. He wanted the nothing back.

Then it felt like sandpaper. But on the inside. Pain. Fear and anxiety and grief and loathing and hopelessness and shame and more filled him up and weighed him down. Sometimes it was like he could feel the cold. Or his hair tickling the nape of his neck. Or the hard floor of his coffin. But only sometimes. Mostly he just felt sad. He wanted the nothing back.

Then it felt like dehydration. His mouth was dry and sticky and his throat burned and his head hurt. His skin felt too dry, too tight. But he could feel it. He could always feel it now. Sometimes he imagined he could move. Mostly he just thought about what his life had been. He wanted the nothing back.

Then he just felt lonely.

He wanted everything back.

He doesn't know when exactly, but he managed to get up. It took some work. It took some time. His head fell off the first time he sat up. He almost dropped it the first time he climbed out of his grave. It still looked fresh. He wondered how long it had been. He wondered if he was missed. He wondered if anyone noticed his absence. He wondered if they were better off. He wandered around the graveyard.

He was cold. And rotting. And alone.

There was nowhere for him to go. He spent most of his time in his grave. It was warmer there. Somewhat. Less freezing, at the very least.

There was nothing that he could do, either. There were no books to read, no games to play, no work to be done. He was trapped with himself. With his doubts and failures and mistakes. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. Everything hurt. And it kept hurting. And then it hurt some more.

Sometimes he would watch people come and go. The only people that came for him were Ilse and Martha. They planted flowers on his grave and left him wreaths and bouquets.

Martha planted roses. Just for him. The next time he saw her she had a split lip and he could see the bruises poking out from under her sleeves. She talked about it sometimes. Talked to him. He felt himself break a little bit more every time she confided in him. He could not comfort her. He had tried, certainly. But she didn't hear him when he spoke. When he tried to speak.

There was no pattern to Ilse’s visits but she always brought him so many flowers, she told him once that she picked them whenever she saw them and carried them with her until she could give them to him. She always planted some for him. She always watered the ones already growing there. She told him stories too. He wondered how many of them were true.  

He never once saw the person he loved most. Melchi never came to see him. Had his best friend, his oldest friend, his only friend, forgotten him so soon? The thought hollowed him out in a funny way. It ate away at him, chipping more and more of him away with every passing day.

But Melchior did show up. Eventually. He knocked over Moritz's cross and trampled on his flowers. And he kept on walking. Moritz saw him bent in grief over another grave, Wendla's grave. And he couldn't stop himself, couldn't bite back the hurt and the loneliness and the jealousy he felt. He stomped across the graves calling out for his friend, offering his hand. Offering death. You are not Moritz Stiefel! He wasn't, really. Not anymore. But he was so alone and Melchi could see him. He could hear him. If he could get Melchi to take his hand he wouldn't be alone anymore.

He spun a story of the wonders of death. The fun he wishes he could have, the adventures he might wish to go on. The laughter, the laughter, the laughter.  

And it works, almost. A man in a mask intervened at the last possible second to shoo him away. Get out! What are you up to? Why aren't you wearing your head? He could see him. Another person could see him. I shot myself. Please don't send me away. Please. Let me stay with you a little longer. It's terrible under there.

He couldn't go back to the isolation, the emptiness, to his own thoughts. So he sat and listened to them talk. Melchior tried to debate the masked man, to outwit him, to stump him. The humorist can be what he likes! Tell me who you are, or I'll give him my hand. But Melchi couldn't win this argument, he was wrong to want to die. He's right, Melchior. I was trying it on. Take his invitation, and get everything you can out of him. It doesn't matter how well he's masked - at least he's something! Something.

He wanted something. Anything. But it was out of his reach. He would never have anything again. He can't trap Melchi with him, can't doom him to this. He wishes he hadn't killed himself.  

And still, Melchior insists on arguing. If this is to be the last conversation he has with his dearest friend (or anyone, really), it won't be a fight. Don't quarrel. Please don't quarrel. What's the use of that? Why sit here in the churchyard - two living and one dead - at two o’clock in the morning, if all we can do is quarrel like drunks? It will be a pleasure for me to be present at these discussions. If you want to quarrel, I'll take my head and go. He had seen more than enough fighting when he was alive. He didn't need more. And it didn't matter, his final conversation seemed to have run its course. Goodbye, Moritz. I don't know where this man will take me. But he is alive - And it was right to go with him. Don't hold it against me for trying to kill you, Melchior. It was only my old devotion. I'd spend a whole lifetime of tears and misery, if I could walk by your side again. And he meant it. 

Goodbye, Moritz. Thank you for returning once more. The happy, good times we had together in these fourteen years! I promise you whatever happens in the years to come, if I change ten times, if I go up or down, I'll never forget you - And one day if I'm old and my hair's grey perhaps then you'll be closer to me again than all the people who share my life. He wanted to believe him. But he had been forgotten once already.

Thank you. Good luck on the journey, gentlemen. Don't let me keep you any longer. He wasn't worth it. The life that lay ahead of Melchior was far more important than the already-forgotten ghost he was walking away from. He returned to his grave.

Melchior survived.

He straightened his cross.

Melchior will live on.

He climbed back into his body.

Melchior won’t be trapped like this.  

And he smiled.

Melchior said he wouldn’t forget him.

[skanecanyon]

Make Survival Preparation Great Again

Making Survival Preparation Great Again: The Survival Of The Human Species

            We are living in a time when any number of catastrophic events could affect large portions of the population. Some of these catastrophic events will be natural and some will be of our own making. Human activity as it stands is unsustainable and like it or not, it is changing the climate and the environment. It would behoove us as a nation, as a species, to come up with some sort of contingency plan for such catastrophic events. As it stands though, we are terminally distracted with our own vices. Far more interested in consumption, reproduction and short-term benefits. I tend to agree with astrophysicist, Brian Cox's explanation as to why we haven't made contact with another alien species yet. Maybe the same thing happened to them as what is happening to us. They pursued short-term benefits in exchange for long-term sustainability and thus burned themselves out before they could become capable of inner galactic travel. Maybe this is the path that all "intelligent" life takes, wherever it evolves in the universe. One would think that long-term survival of the human species would be a common interest among all of us, but it's not. I would like to see this attitude change, and so I propose to you the Make Survival Preparation Great Again campaign. A new hope for the survival and advancement of the human species.

 Post Apocalypse

           In the event of a major event, such as a Yellowstone eruption, the United States would essentially be destroyed. According to geological evidence from the last several eruptions, Minnesota, where I live, could be covered with anywhere from .4 to 1.1 inches of ash for a month long eruption. We would survive the immediate eruption, but life would not be pretty afterwards. Millions of people that live in Zone One, which is the area closest to the blast will die instantly. Ash would cover the entire United States and the world could potentially be thrust into a nuclear Winter scenario. Acid rain, ash, contaminated surface water, lack of sunlight, and freezing temperatures would kill crops and livestock around the world. There would be mass panic and migration in the aftermath. There would be extreme rationing of goods, and ultimately, people in the U.S. who wished to survive would have to migrate, most likely to Mexico and South America, possibly Canada. This is one possible scenario, and it's not that it might happen, it is that it's going to happen. It has happened regularly in the past and will continue to happen in the future, and when it does, the effects will be devastating. Yellowstone is not the only super volcano in the world, nor are super volcanoes the only possible global catastrophe. There could be another asteroid impact. We could experience another Ice Age. It might be something of our own doing. Global warming could increase storm activity; cause sea levels to rise, wiping out coastal cities, or kill off pollinators and make agriculture a lot more difficult. Overpopulation could cause widespread disease and pandemics. So you see, there are any number of catastrophic events that definitely will happen at some point, and we will not be ready for it. Not as things currently stand.

 Food Production Centers (FPCs)

            The main idea behind the Make Survival Preparation Great Again Campaign (MSPGAC) is the construction of several hundreds, possibly thousands of Food Production Centers (FPCs) across parts of the nation. These centers will be designed such that they can be totally sealed against the elements in a moments notice. They would be climatically controlled, filtered, and self- sustaining if need be. They essentially would be agricultural centers that could be turned into self-sustaining bio domes in a moments notice. The exact size and design of these FPCs could be debated, but the immediate idea that comes to mind for me is essentially a giant cement bunker, approximately one acre in size (about the same size as a football field), that is mostly underground and divided into two main sections, the agricultural section, where various crops could be grown, and the food production section, where those raw agricultural goods get turned into food stuff with long lasting shelf life. Meals Ready to Eat (MREs) if you will. I personally envision some kind of Soylent Green type of product, but made from peas instead of people. The nature and variety of these MREs are also debatable, but I envision a lot of granola bar type products. Maybe some canned goods. Maybe some dehydrated stuff. In the case of a near extinction level event, many species are going to die. Pollinators would become extinct as well. So you'd have a really tough time farming in a post apocalyptic world. Some of these FPCs could potentially be used to raise chickens, but large animal livestock is probably not feasible. The shit produced by the chickens could be used to fertilize the agricultural plots. Even so, items like meat and eggs would be extreme luxuries in a post apocalyptic world. Most people would be eating Soylent Green products. As for pollination in a post apocalyptic world, either natural pollinators would have to be kept alive indoors for several decades, or crops would have to be pollinated by hand, a job that could prove to be quite labor intensive and time consuming. This consideration would undoubtedly factor into choosing the types of crops that are to be grown. Regardless of what crops are chosen, these FPCs could also serve as seed banks, storing seeds from before the apocalypse, so that they can be reintroduced into nature at some future point. 

             Once on-line, these FPCs can immediately go to work producing quantities of MREs that can then be transported to various Emergency Distribution Centers across the nation, where they should be able to be stored and protected from degradation until their time of need. Distribution of packaged goods and/or raw materials could be done by conventional means for now, but in the case of a major catastrophe such as a Yellowstone eruption, ash, fallout and dust could end up fouling up combustion engines, so inevitably, all transportation should probably be electric. We could build a few of these FPCs each year until several hundreds or thousands of them exist across the nation, and a massive stockpile of MREs has been achieved, capable of sustaining a large population for decades. See artist's crude rendering below. 

            The only part of the FPC that would be above ground would be a giant, retractable, high-strength, glass roof, which sits on rollers, and is capable of sealing itself to the agricultural side of the building. When there isn't an emergency, the building can sit with the roof open to allow for natural rain and pollination. When there is an emergency, the glass roof can be closed and seal the structure against the elements. The roof would be made of high strength glass and would have a low profile to help it withstand high winds and debris. Any air entering the building through the ventilation could be filtered. Interior fans could keep air circulating.    

Location

           The location of these FPCs would have to be strategically planned. Access to water, and potentially lots of it, would have to be a consideration. In non-emergency times, any and/or all sources of water could be used. After such a catastrophe, however, surface water would become contaminated and wouldn't be able to be used for crops or livestock, but it could probably still be used to generate energy. Clean water would most likely have to be able to be drawn from underground aquifers, otherwise it would have to somehow be filtered and purified.

           These FPCs would require energy, even in a post apocalyptic environment. They could initially be wired to the grid like anything else, but would also have to have a self-sustaining source of power. Wind power, hydroelectric, and battery back-up all come to mind, but nuclear should also be considered. As much as I hate the idea of proliferating nuclear power plants, I have to confess that small, individual nuclear reactors would be the best way to ensure consistent long-lasting power in a post apocalyptic world. They wouldn't have to be up and running all the time, but they must be available should the conditions call for it. I would think that each FPC would require a reactor similar to what powers a nuclear submarine or aircraft carrier, maybe even smaller. Solar power could be considered, but wouldn't do much good in a nuclear or volcanic Winter scenario. Sunlight could be blocked for month, years, or even decades depending on the catastrophe.  

Economic Impact

           We are also living in a time when good jobs are becoming scarce due to automation, down-sizing, and outsourcing. The construction and operation of these FPCs would provide employment for thousands of people across a wide spectrum of abilities. I know what you're thinking. This is going to cost a lot of money and how are we ever going to pay for it? Well, for starters, you continue to tax the most inelastic luxury goods (ie: cigarettes, video games, smart phones) At the same time, you legalize currently illegal goods like marijuana, prostitution and gambling and tax the piss out of them. In addition to this, you could consider fundraising, and taxing the wealthiest among us who own and operate the corporations that are responsible for encouraging our consumptive behaviors in the first place. Anyone who donated time and/or money to this cause would be viewed as one of the ultimate heroes of mankind. I don't think funding it would need to be difficult. The FPCs would be pretty basic structures. I certainly don't imagine that any of them would cost any more than the average skyscraper. If we can talk about funding a post war New Deal, or a several billion dollar wall along the Mexican border, or investing billions into more nuclear weapons, or colonizing Mars, then we can talk about building FPCs across America over the course of several years or decades.

           Survival of the human species should be a common goal among all people world-wide. This plan would cost a lot of money, that is true, but it would guarantee a lot of diverse jobs for a long time while at the same time ensuring our long-term survival. If you say to me, "This sounds too expensive. Can we actually afford to do something like this?" I ask you, "If we are to survive in the long-term, can we afford not to?" We are currently an exponentially growing, global population of consumers, intent on obtaining short-term benefits in exchange for long-term sustainability. Barring all other possible catastrophes, this, in and of itself, cannot go on forever. It is a bubble waiting to pop. You can argue that all empires crumble, but I think it is largely human behavior that determines when that happens. It's time we stopped living in the moment and started giving some thought to the future. This is our home. We're not going anywhere.

[wilburn38-blog]

How to Protect Your Plants From Frost This Winter

How does Frost Damage Plants?

Frost Causes the water in the plant cells to freeze which damages the cell wall and as a result the inside structure of the plant is damaged. When the ground is frozen, roots cannot take up any water to feed the plant and as a result dies.

Don't be caught out!

Be aware, early frosts may occur From September onwards or late in spring. When an early frost occurs, not only have you not prepared your garden for cold weather and frost, the plants themselves may not have prepared themselves either and an unexpected frost can occur when they are not ready. Plants prepare themselves for the winter months by:

Materials and chemicals - some plants store extra chemicals and materials that act as an anti-freeze lowering the freezing point of cell contents. This process usually starts when the days become shorter in autumn.

Antifreeze - this is where the plant is able to prevent water in the cells from freezing even below freezing point. In order for this to happen, plants have to be in a cold environment for about a week or so before freezing conditions occur.

Bark - this insulates the plant to prevent water freezing inside the plant cells During spring there will be new growth and buds appearing, which is vulnerable and has no resistance against sudden freezing conditions.

A few things to Consider

Golden or variegated varieties of plants are usually more vulnerable and less hardy. Research hardiness of plants so you don't waste money and time planting them if they cannot withstand the cold. Shelter will be required for tender plants. Plants with flower buds and new shoots are less likely to be damaged in east-facing sites. Avoid if possible colder areas in your garden called 'frost pockets' and are usually the lowest point in your garden or near fences and garden walls. Newly planted and young plants will be more vulnerable to frost damage than fully established specimens as they have not developed any resistance to frosty conditions. Pruning and cutting back plants encourages new growth which will be damaged by cold weather and/or frost. Protecting Your Plants

If you didn't plan ahead in spring and consider the cold weather and frost when planting, then protecting your plants this winter may also involve a bit of re shuffling of some plants around your garden to provide extra shelter for them. Protecting your plants will also include covering them with fleece, bringing them indoors as well as adding mulch.

Evergreen plants will need a thick layer of mulch on the surrounding soil to keep the solid from freezing so water can be taken up by the plant so they don't dehydrate. Fleece? Tender Plants ideally need to be in pots over the winter so they can easily be moved indoors to protect from the frost and cold weather. Growing in the Open: if they cannot be potted up and moved indoors, they can simply be covered in fleece. The ground around the plant should be covered in a mulch to prevent the soil freezing. In the spring new shoots can be covered with a bell-cloche until they are more established.

Potted: Move any potted tender plants indoors to protect from the cold weather.

Plants growing against a wall can simply be protected with fleece.

Low growing Plants will need to be protected from wet weather so a cloche is ideal to keep them covered. You can then surround them with gravel or grit to ensure they will have effective drainage.

Tree Ferns, Cordylines and Palms will need theircrowns (centre of the plant) protecting by tying their leaves into bunches and the trunk of den trees should be wrapped in fleece.

Tuberous Plants, once the frost has blackened the foliage, you should carefully dig them up taking care not to chop them in half with your spade. Remove the soil form the tubers and place somewhere cool and dry to allow the tubers to become fully dormant. After a few days, store the tubers in almost dry compost in a frost free place over winter such as the greenhouse.

Plants in Pots need to be moved indoors. If you can't move the pots indoors then you will need to use pot feet to prevent waterlogging. If you don't have frost proof pots they may crack in the frost so you should insulate them with a layer of bubble wrap or hessian.

Frost Pockets are the coolest places in your garden and can be found by a wall or fence and at the lowest ground levels. These areas can be damaging to plants so if possible you will need to dig up and move these plants elsewhere in your garden. If not remove some of the lower growth to improve cold air drainage.

New plants Avoid planting any new plants as newly planted and young plants will be more vulnerable to frost damage than fully established specimens as they have not developed any resistance to frosty conditions.

Know which ones are the Less hardy plants in your garden. They ideally need to be moved to a sheltered spot such as under a tree or next to well established shrubs if possible if they are in an exposed position. They will need to be covered in fleece and mulching may be necessary too depending on how resistant to frost they are.

Plants with flower buds and new shoots if not already, need to be in east-facing sites.

Do not prune and cut back plants before the winter or during, as the older foliage is vital as it will help to protect the rest of the plant and hopefully will take the hit of any frost damage. Cutting back encourages new growth which will be damaged by cold weather and/or frost. How to detect frost damaged plants

Overall the general signs you need you look out for are withering, scorching or browning of leaves, limp stems, brown fruit.

With hardy Evergreen plants the leaves becomes scorched and often turn brown. Tender Young Growth causing scorching of the leaves and pale brown patched will appear between the leaf veins, usually on the more exposed surfaces. Tender perennials usually become blackened and the plant stem will be limp and distorted. Blossom and young fruits will have a corky layer form at the flower end of the fruit Bedding plants and some tender vegetables will show leaf scorch and browning Some shrubs may have the spotting on the leaves The foliage of certain plants appears water-soaked and dark-green and will then turn black. Checking for Signs of Life

After the winter, a great way of detecting frost damaged plants is to scrape the outer layer of the stem away and if it is sappy and green then it shows a sign of life. If the stem has no sap and is soft, dry and brittle this will mean that the plant may well have died. However, you cannot tell if this is the case with all plants, as climbers with woody stems don't have green sap at this time of year, so you will not be able to tell whether they are dead or alive.

What to do if your plants are damaged

If your plant does appear damaged, so not give up hope as you never know, it may well recover. There are ways to prevent any further damage to your plants.

Protect them from the morning sun to prevent them from thawing out to quickly. If they cannot be moved then cover them in black plastic to block out the sun.

Cut back frosted growth in spring to prevent further die back and encourage fresh, new growth. You should be looking to cut back to an undamaged side shoot or bud.

Feed damaged plants with a slow release plant food to encourage strong and healthy new growth. The fertiliser will need to be balanced with equal amounts of nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium.

Dig up small tender plants and place them in the greenhouse. Provided they were not exposed to long period of cold and frost they should recover and start to produce new growth.

Newly planted specimens if there has been a hard frost will lift up above ground level if just recently planted. Check them regularly to re-firm the ground around them and keep the roots in contact with the soil. Remember: Many plants can actually recover from frost if you give them time, do not just give up on a plant that has been frost damaged. Even if there is no sign of life above ground, the root system may still be okay and you may start to see some growth over a few weeks. If no re-growth has appeared by mid-summer you may well need to replace the plant.

Snow!

Snow actually acts as an insulator; however it can still damage plants. If there is a heavy covering, the weight of it can cause leaves, branches and stems to break. To minimise damage you will need to shake snow off the branches of large trees, shrubs and hedges. Even if the snow doesn't break the branches it can leave them distorted. Snow on greenhouses or cold frames prevents the light from getting through so it will need to be removed. You will also need to avoid as much as you can from walking on snow covered grass as it damages the turf and will leave it looking unsightly.

Hardiness Scale

Hardiness zones are useful as a guide only as there are many other factors to take into

account on how a plant may survive in your garden. For example, a damp shaded spot my kill a plant that in the same garden, would survive in a border which slopes away and has sandy soil.

How hardy is it on a scale from 1 - 11. One will survive arctic winters, eleven is tropical. The hardy zones vary across the UK from 7 to 10. Generally most of England, Scotland, wales and centre of Ireland are zone 8.

You can see the hardiness scale to the right, so before purchasing any plants check out your area first so you know how hardy your plants need to be to stand the best chance of surviving this winter.

We are the online shopping home of Crowders Garden Centre. We have been supplying our customers with high quality gardening products for over 25 years and you can now access our products here at our online shop for delivery throughout the UK or collection in our Garden Centre in Horncastle, Lincolnshire Trees .