#have lore and a story that i want to delve into and build upon

[unsettlingcreature]

I think it's really funny how I play games like. I'll mod games that are supposed to be chill/casual to be mega-difficult and just an all-around suffer-and-suckfest but then the other games I will be playing on the lowest difficulty and with mods to make it a slice of life game instead. I have ✨layers✨

[doctorprofessorsong]

Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.

[aceinacloset]

FNAF SL REDUX

This whole Au is just self-indulgent for me, but you may like it, so still give this post a read if you're a fan of Fnaf sl, Fnaf aus, or both. Enjoy 😊.

This Au is dedicated to "rewriting" sister location to be more independent from the other fnaf games (*cough* *cough* FNAF 4) and to give a more unique perspective to SL'S story.

This Au is focused on the funtimes

I love these 4 sillies, I just love these 4 heck all the characters in sister location. I really wanted to have an Au that focuses on the funtimes and their struggles in the facility, focusing on that also allows me to delve into the very motivations that had them want to escape the facility in the first place.

The other animatronics in SL are also part of this Au, just not as prominent as the Skittle squad.

Elizabeth is also very prominent in this Au.

Elizabeth is another character in SL. I love a lot, so she's also very present. Since she experiences the same pain as Funtimes I through, I felt it really necessary.

There are lore changes.

Not really changes, more so add ons. These add ons are here to expand upon what Fnaf had built with Sister Location but never did anything with past SL. Some stuff in here are add ons just to indulge me.

William and Michael are here too.

While they're not as focused on as the characters previously mentioned, they do have their role and place in the story.

William is intentionally designed that way. While I do have a planned human design, I have a reason he looks like his 8-bit sprite. The reason is to show the rift he would unintentionally build with Liz after her death, and this rift would become so wide that she would no longer see him as her father let alone a person.

While Michael's look would specifically be keeped hidden through most of the story to show how the Funtimes and Elizabeth perceive him.

Oh yeah, Mrs. Afton is here too for some extra plot.

I don't have a complete design for her yet, so all I have are concepts of her design. I'm still working on her character (That's the fun of Mrs. Afton not being canon yet, I get to write her how ever I like.) But I want her to be someone who's kind and sweet but doesn't take shit and has the will to beat the shit out of those who deserve it.

A major plot point she is a part of is going down into the rental facility to find clues on what could have happened to Liz.

She would find answers, but at a price

Yeah, she would, um be killed by william. I'll go into further detail on this event at a later date.

Extra changes

Redesigned the facility's map

Changed some game events because I didn't like them or I felt they could have been better

Some new faces to really bring life to this Au

Unique character designs

More a focus on events prior to Sister Location (the game) events

Spooky stuff if I feel up to it.

Mult ending ideas

This Au may also touch upon and make content in association with other games and books in heavy relation to Sister Location (ex. FNAF 6 and fazbear fright story "Room for one more")

That's all the info I got so far, I hope to post more about this Au soon.

Bye-bye

-Jester 🤡

[witchofthesouls]

Hiii I know that ur busy with a lot of stuff recently but I just wanted to ask some tips as a fellow fanfic writer. I have a hard time doing some world building n I've noticed in your writings that you always managed to put in enough details. It's okay if u don't have the time or energy for my ask. ^^

Have a good day 👍

Oh, thank you!

I approach world building as world/lore expanding or tweaking. The bones are there. You're just shaping the muscles to direct them, and you can pull from a lot of other experiences or influences to guide the process.

Example with Transformers Prime. Canon-wise, the position of Prime is deeply tied to religious and cultural aspects of Cybertron, and the Matrix itself came from Prima's (the first Prime) own weapon: the Star Saber. I like thinking of the implications since it was never stated to what happened to Prima. Perhaps he's a ghost trapped inside the Matrix to guide all the other bearers because he's the only one with the big picture or focus vast enough to keep the goal in mind.

Then there's the "Uncrion-is-Earth" subplot. Since Unicron is the Unmaker and Lord of Chaos, then it raises a lot of questions about Earth's role. Since I like fantasy and magic, it's an easy delve into "Hey, what if magic and legends were actually real at one point?" and it gives me more work into thinking about humanity's role with other magical peoples, especially with all the lore in regards to animal brides, divine intervention, and worship. I know there's a general consensus that humans are boring, but how do the others perceive us? What do seafolk, like Selkies and Mers, warn their children about the two-legged land dwellers? Why are fey and humans so fascinated by each other?

Or, there's the deeper delve into popular tropes and doing your own twist. I like the fandom agreement that "Seekers are like birds of prey," so I just expanded it by incorporating more of the sexual dimorphism (i.e., larger, drab females and smaller, colorful males) and other behavioral traits (i.e., mating dances, courtship and threat displays, aproaches to raising chicks), which then leads to more thoughts on how all that can influence Vos' culture and how the rest of Cybertron perceives them because they're not driven by those instincts. Because there's a common fandom trope that Vos and Praxus are deeply entwined with each other, or Praxus came from Vos, there's additional layers on their relationship as well as thoughts how Praxus functions and their own relations with other city-states.

Because it's a lot of detail and it's easy to dump too much on people, I like writing from a character's perspective because it's simpler to tie in things from their own observations as well as their own biases. Either as an outsider or an insider.

Like in my story with "this earth i rise from," each segment is told from the perspective of others towards the cyber!June and cyber!kids. I explored a bit of Cybertronian language with Optimus, grief and biological quirks and tells with Ratchet, and Fowler's own tidbits between the Cybertronians and the ex-humans as everyone is trying to get used to the new reality where June and kids cannot go back to their old lives and need to make it work.

When it comes down to it, a lot of my own world building came from what I wanted to read. To go really deep, you can take real-life references to build upon it. My thoughts about the Thirteen Primes came stemmed from the mythologies of the ancient world and Medieval Europe. Prima is the equivalent of the "king of the gods," how each sibling has a specific role or domain associated with them, and the possibility of sentient Primal Artifacts that decide the worthiness of wielders.

[meowmeowuchiha]

Fuck it I'm dropping my fave fics

All Naruto fics

A Second Chance by calibratingentropy

Summary: A Kisame time travel fix it. He's sent back to the day of his academy graduation upon his death. He decides to do things much differently than the first time around. Most characters are either OCs or were such side characters in Canon that we barely got scraps of personality, such as Yagura, Mei, and Ao. Wonderfully written and frankly a must for any Kisame lover imo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45811153/chapters/115287730

Orochimama by Whoamama

Summary: When Orochimaru first attempts the Living Corpse Reincarnation Jutsu, shit goes sideways and he ends up replaced by a woman from our world. Hilarity ensues as she attempts to fix the chaotic mess that is Otogakure and save the world on top of it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458050/chapters/67129078

Okay. That's Enough Lemonade Now. by Meeceisme

OC is the child of Hatake Kakashi and a Nara OC named Nara Miyu. Technically part of a series, but every one can be read as stand alone easily. An AU fix it type fic, and I adore all of the lore about the Nara, Hatake, Aburame, and even Kurama clans. The beginning is squicky, but as long as you can get past that it's a wonderful read. Same with the rest of the series, mostly the first installment. The ages are VERY squicky in the first one and it took me years to actually read these fics because of it. Either way, highly recommend..

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32294638/chapters/80049616

Plasticity by Misfit_McCoward

Hidan tries to summon a shinigami. Gets a science major college student instead. OC proceeds to have a terrible time trying to stay alive, and after winding up with Orochimaru ends up delving into ninja mad science. Eventually winds up with the Akatsuki. Unwillingly. An absolutely hilarious fic and I reread this at least twice a year. Everyone is beautifully in character.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017161/chapters/37377839

Honōka by Yujina

A girl from 90s Tokyo is reborn in the Naruto universe. Due to her unique viewpoint, she regularly 'breaks' jutsu and uses chakra in ways that everyone is confused as to how tf she even came up with it. She's the same age as Kakashi. Winds up Orochimaru's apprentice. Good!Orochimaru AU, or at the very least a Not Terrible!Orochimaru AU.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225191/chapters/63828178

Parallel by Sora2131, stacyb

Kakashi time travel fix it fic. Team 7 winds up an actual family. A wonderful story. I don't want to say too much and spoil it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498318/chapters/61857256

Homemade Dynamite by Misfit_McCoward

Itadei time travel fix it fic. Except Itachi tells Deidara absolutely none of his plans and Deidara is just along for the ride. Unwillingly. Deidara is back in his 10 year old body so Itachi is like 12-13. All from Deidara's POV. Despite being a ship fic, there isn't a super heavy romantic focus which for me personally is wonderful. The OCs are wonderful and I love them, both Itachi and Deidara are wonderfully in character. Another fic I reread like twice a year.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201637/chapters/66442810

Shinobi Isekai!: Round Three! by Morrowyn

A trans girl wakes up in the Naruto universe in the body of Choumei's jinchuuriki (before Fuu) in the midst of escaping from Takigakure. Winds up living in a ruined temple in the middle of nowhere. Accidentally befriends passing ninja.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205340/chapters/66452216

Second Bite at the Cherry by Sakinthra

Sakura decides she's going to be useful to her teammates in a different way. Things spiral out of control. Hidan is a protagonist, but he's still in character (still a gleefully murderous zealot. I love him). Builds up Jashinism as a religion very well and I adore it. A fic I reread at least once a year.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001781/chapters/34770497

The Bloody Oracle of Kiri by Cannibalisticapple

OC with a very fucked up moral compass is reborn in Naruto during the third shinobi war and is picked up by Kiri. Specifically by the seven swordsman. Specifically specifically by Ameyuri Ringo. Absolutely wonderful and with plenty of hilarious moments along with more serious moments. I tend to reread this at least once a year.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788408/chapters/31696218

The Unwoven Threads of Fate by Diadru

OC is reborn in Naruto universe and winds up replacing Naruto on Team 7. Befriends Sasuke and they wind up BOTH going to Orochimaru. Shit goes wildly wrong. Everyone is wonderfully in character, but there are a couple slightly OOC moments. The name of the MC can definitely break immersion, but as long as you can get past that it's great. Gets very angsty at times, understandably so, as the MC gets thrown headfirst into several moral crises and being around Orochimaru is not exactly conducive to staying a 'good' person. I reread this one about once a year usually. WARNING: ENDS ON A MASSIVE CLIFFHANGER AND HAS NOT BEEN UPDATED SINCE 2019.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11943924/0/

Seven by Shaydrall

Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura wake up in their bodies the day of team assignments. It was not done intentionally and none of them know about the others. A time travel fix it and it's absolutely hilarious.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13054671/0/

[honourablejester]

Okay. So this is the result of a combination of thoughts. I’ve been reading/watching Pathfinder lore lately, and the idea of the dwarven Sky Citadels fascinates me. I will admit, though, that when I first heard them referenced, in a discussion on Adventure Paths and in particular Dongun Hold in Alkenstar, I thought they were sky citadels. As in dwarven flying cities. Which, let’s not lie, would be boss. Though the mythology of the actual Sky Citadels, that they’re where the dwarves emerged onto the surface during the Quest for the Sky, is also very cool. But. Dwarven flying cities.

This idle thought merged with a thought I had a while back regarding one of D&D 5e’s trinkets from the PHB. No. 37: a small, weightless stone block. Because I thought, even at the time, with just that, I thought: put a piece of stone that weighs nothing in a dwarf’s hand, and let them imagine what and where they could build. Because, again, I’ve wanted flying dwarves for a while.

And then I added in some other things. The concept of a space elevator, and how compression-based ones aren’t possible, because of weight. The biblical Tower of Babel. And, a little bit, the Islamic version of the building of the Temple of Solomon.

So we get this. A piece of worldbuilding, a setting element. Something to put in a fantasy world that’s heading for steampunk levels of technology, possibly beyond.

The Legend of the Compact Tower

A lot of people think the name is ironic, calling the tallest thing in the world compact, or perhaps that it’s a joke, a reference to its builders’ shorter stature. But the name doesn’t mean compact as in small, it means compact as in agreement. Pact, covenant. The Compact Tower was named for the holy agreement that enabled its construction.

There are different versions of the story, depending on the teller, but in the dwarven one, it happened like this.

Dwarves are creatures of the earth. Of the stone, of the depths. They are called to delve, not to fly, and it is a holy calling. The gods of earth and the gods of dwarves look kindly upon it. But from the moment dwarves first stepped out onto the surface of the world, from the moment a dwarf first looked up and saw the raw splendour of the sky, there have been dwarves who hear a different calling. One, perhaps, less favourably looked upon once, but no less real.

And, though many still deny it, no less holy.

Much as there are gods of earth, there are gods of sky. They are not dwarven gods, but they are gods nonetheless. Dwarves can hear their call. And even pulled by this foreign thread, dwarves are precious to the gods of dwarves. They are creatures of the earth. They are rooted, not only in the stone, but as a people, and their gods no less than them. These ties do not break for a foreign calling. A dwarf, no matter where their heart leads, is still a dwarf.

And so the gods of dwarves spoke to the gods of sky, on behalf of their children. And those dwarves who had felt the longing for the sky spoke also to its gods, on their own behalf. They spoke of their awe, their appreciation, their longing. They spoke of their nature, of earth and stone and roots. And they spoke of a joining between them, the earth and the sky, the root and the longing. They spoke of a construction, for dwarves are builders before all things, that would honour both.

A tower, built by dwarves, and allowed by the compact of gods, that would reach from the stone roots of the world to the top of the sky, where all was weightless, and even the concept of falling was lost. A vast pillar, miles in diameter, visible for untold miles around, that stretched upwards as far as the eye could see. A tower built of stone, in its lower reaches, and then of something else, as it reached higher. A gift, a blessing, from the gods of dwarves and the gods of sky.

Skystone. That which has no weight.

The dwarves say that skystone was a gift, given by the gods so that the Compact Tower could be built. But others say it had other origins.

Among the surface peoples of the world, the primary claim is that skystone was born of magic, a creation of dwarven arcanists, and that it was far from holy. It was mundane, created by mortal ingenuity. And, thus, it may be created again, if one could only find the formula. Perhaps even some dwarves believe this, that skystone was a thing they made with their own hands, that no gods were necessary, and that if they only searched hard enough, they could find the means to make it again. In the aeons since the breaking of the Compact Tower, many, many people have sought the secrets of skystone, both dwarves and otherwise, among the peoples of the earth.

But among the peoples of the sky …

Here is the other legend, the darker legend. For the elementals of the sky, the creatures of air and lightning, claim that the Compact Tower was not built by a compact of equals, but by a compact of slaves. That they were bound, against their will, to imbue stone with the essence of air, their own essence, and create skystone so that the tower of dwarves could be built. The gods of sky, they claim, did not look kindly on the pleas of dwarves, and so the gods of dwarves took matters into their own hands, on behalf of their children, and granted them the power and magic to enslave the creatures of the sky.

And for this reason, millennia ago, the children of the sky attacked the Compact Tower, and severed it in two. Sundered it, in a great surge of rage and lightning, and tore free the upper half of the tower, the skystone half, and claimed it for their own. It was born of their suffering, their magic, their essence, and thus it belonged to them, or so they claimed. They tore it loose, and have ever since sailed the skies with it, a vast, trailing shape, the massive cylinder of the skystone tower looming distantly above the world beneath. And the dwarves which had inhabited it were bound as slaves to their elemental masters, as recompense for the slavery that wrought the tower.

The dwarves refute this, with all their soul and ardour and honour. Their stories tell of treachery, of a holy compact broken out of greed, and a tower and a people stolen by their enemies. Dwarves do not deal in slavery, nor the binding of free creatures. Their ancestors would not have done what the elementals accuse them of, nor would their gods have permitted it. They do not know the source of the legend, but they refute it, down to the stone.

And the gods, of dwarves or earth or sky … are curiously silent on the matter. As if the truth is obscured to them, perhaps. Or as if they cannot speak it. And that … is a source of legend and of terror in and of itself.

Whatever the truth of the matter, however the Compact Tower was built, whatever created skystone, and whatever happened when the Compact Tower was shattered, these are the truths that remain:

A vast stone pillar stands upon the stone, still reaching brokenly skywards, yearning for its other half. The dwarven half of the Compact Tower, now known as the Broken Tower, remains a dwarven citadel, and has thrived across the centuries. For the dwarves of the Broken Tower have not lost the sky-yearning of their ancestors. When the Compact Tower was shattered, shards of skystone were flung and scattered from the tearing, and the dwarves have gathered it jealously. These shards have become the hearts of engines, as skydocks sprouted from the miles-high flanks of the Broken Tower and skyships sprang from dwarven ingenuity to scour the skies for the Skystone Tower and their long-lost, enslaved brethren. The Broken Tower now stands at the heart of a dwarven empire of artifice, magic and construction, reaching from the depths of the stone towards the lost reaches of the sky.

The Skystone Tower, inhabited now by djinn and other elementals, soars miles above the earth, where the sky kisses the great beyond where perhaps the gods dwell, a vast, weightless edifice that drifts horizontally across the sky, trailing its broken end where once it was torn free. In its depths, it is said, live another people too, a blue-grey people who bear a remarkable resemblance to dwarves. Whether these people are servants, slaves, or equals among the elementals of the Skystone Tower is difficult for outsiders, what few have ever gained access, to ascertain. Perhaps their status has changed, in the millennia since the sundering of the Compact Tower, or perhaps it is the same as it ever was. Slaves, or equals … or something else.

The gods of earth and sky remain silent on the questions of the Compact Tower, no matter how their children plead for the truth. If skystone was a gift of the gods, it hasn’t been given again. If skystone was an offense against the gods, it hasn’t been struck down. The gods of the sky do not disdain to grant their gifts to faithful dwarves, and the gods of dwarves do not offer the secrets of binding elementals to their children. Those secrets remain the preserve of arcanists.

And arcanists and artificers the world over search for the secrets of skystone, not least to challenge the might of the dwarven sky empire. Adventurers, thieves and secret operatives seek to find and smuggle fragments from the sundering, or to sail the skies, even as the dwarves do, in pursuit of the Skystone Tower. Elementals are bound, in search of the secrets of how they were once forced to create the material. Arcanists and alchemists seek to recreate it with naught but their own genius. The world of the Compact Tower claws its way ever skywards, seeking what once was theirs. The gift, or secret, that they were once given, and that so many wish to discover anew. A means to travel from the very root of the world, to the very top of the sky.

And, perhaps, beyond.

Perhaps this is why the gods are silent. To prevent mortals from going where they have no right to go. Or to protect them, to keep them from going where they cannot survive going. But the gift was given once, and the knowledge of it not rescinded. The world yearns skyward. And the gods have not explicitly forbidden it. Perhaps there is something with the power to command gods, a sinister force behind the sundering of the Compact Tower, that forces them not to. Or perhaps the gods, of earth and sky alike, wish to see what their mortal children might accomplish, when given only the thought and the proof, and the ingenuity of their own minds and hands.

And if that is so, say the dwarves of the Broken Tower, then they shall be the first to build again. Their tower shall be whole, and reach once more from the heart of the stone to the edge of the sky.

Further Thoughts

Whether or not dwarven inventors and magic users pioneered skystone itself, they definitely did pioneer a lot of the magic and technology that made living inside the Compact Tower possible. The Tower covered miles of vertical and horizontal space, and while it was, initially, basically an upwards extrusion of subterranean living, adjustments were made. So things like teleportation magic, mechanical and magical elevator systems, massive water transportation systems, hydroponics, fungal gardens, how to build with weightless materials, how to build and function in low orbit, magic items and technology to work around lowered gravity and thinner air, etc.

Now, large chunks of those latter ones in particular may have been lost when the Skystone Tower was ripped away, and are now (potentially) the sole preserve of the Sky Dwarves of the Skystone Tower, but not everybody who knew how the systems worked was in the upper reaches when the Sundering happened. So fragments of those technologies remained behind, and the dwarves have had millennia to capitalise on them.

The legacy of the Compact Tower and the magic/technology it left behind have had a massive warping effect on the politics, magic and technology of the world since. Particularly since the Broken Tower dwarves absolutely did not give up on their lost technology and dreams, and have built a skyfaring technological empire in the aftermath. Skyships build around shards of skystone, and the quest by other peoples and empires to gain or recreate skystone for themselves in order to match them, are a huge element of the world’s politics. Piracy, espionage, secret experiments, ground to air defenses, all of that will be in play.

There’ll also be a divide between Broken Tower dwarves and fully subterranean dwarves who never heard the sky’s call, and who are not only perfectly happy building in the stone as the gods originally intended, but possibly view the Sundering as proof that the gods did, in fact, never intend dwarves to go skywards, and hold that Broken Tower dwarves are heretics who’ve made all other dwarves enemies of the surface world, so thanks for that, buckos, real nice of you.

(Just because the gods are real, physical presences on your world, doesn’t mean you can’t have religious schisms and different interpretations, especially if the gods in question, for whatever reason, choose to keep or are forced to keep quite on the religious issue in question. Or it had nothing to do with them, and they’ve been watching the fallout in bemusement ever since)

The Skystone Tower itself has been pursued relentlessly ever since it was Sundered from the Broken Tower. Whatever the truth of the relationship between the sky dwarves and the elementals that fly it, the Skystone Tower these days is extremely reclusive and inclined to be very hostile towards intruders. The Tower haunts the far upper reaches of the sky/atmosphere, basically as close as it can get to low orbit, and even Broken Tower skyships struggle to get that far up. Magical storms and elemental force protect the Tower and its secrets, as well as raw height and speed. And, again, it’s huge. A vast mobile city-tower in the upper atmosphere that’s visible to everything below it.

Possibly the Skystone Tower casts a mobile shadow that’s a factor in the magic of the world. Tidal pull could also be a factor. The Broken Tower could also be an issue when it comes to shadow, warping the natural plant and animal life in the area, as well as being a massive weight on a single location on the world. Skystone is weightless, but the Broken Tower was built of normal stone, slowly merging into skystone in the upper reaches, some of which might be left (probably as the basis for the skyship factories). So the Broken Tower may well have a physical warping effect on the world round it too.

And then … Space travel could so very easily be a thing. It could be a thing the Skystone Tower dwarves and elementals are working on. It could be a thing the surface mortals invent in the course of pursuing them. It could be achieved by diplomacy and a reunification of the Towers, creating an actual space elevator that would allow colonisation up into whatever lies beyond the sky.

What does lie beyond the sky? Are the gods there? Is something else there? Is it survivable? Don’t you want to find out?

I just. I want fantasy science fiction. And sky dwarves and/or space dwarves. Apparently. Heh.

So. The Legend of the Compact Tower.

[ainyan]

⭐️⭐️

Let's talk Chiss lore. In this case, I'll discuss specifically the relationship between Chiss and the Force and how it comes into play in the backstory of my Chiss OCs.

I have delved fairly deeply into Chiss Lore in my stories about Miurani'kal'istae and Cip'rys, and right now some of that lore is directly contradicted by the new canon introduced by Timothy Zahn in his new Thrawn novels. So I wanted to talk about how it came about and why I still continue to use it, despite it being contradictory to current canon.

I will begin with the constant theme that Force-Sensitive Chiss are consider anathema and are routinely killed or surgically altered to be unable to use the Force. This is directly contradicted by the new lore about how Force-Sensitive Chiss are utilized by the CEDF as wayfinders, are almost always female, and lose their abilities by the age of thirteen.

In SW:TOR, there is a Codex entry called 'Force-Sensitive Chiss', and it states the following:

Though incredibly rare, the Chiss have produced Force-sensitives among their people. There's a strong stigma against Force-sensitives among the Chiss because many believe it's an impurity or faulty genetics, and must be purged. Most Force-sensitive Chiss work hard to hide their shameful abilities. When a Force-sensitive is discovered in the Ascendancy, the consequences depend on the individual's social standing and family lineage. A lower-class Chiss is exiled from the Ascendancy, while a social elite may be allowed to use a combination of surgery and medication to keep their powers dormant. Any Chiss caught practicing or weaponizing the Force within Ascendancy territory is executed without question. Chiss wishing to hone their skills must leave their families behind and take their chances with the Sith or Jedi.

I have bolded the relevant part.

When I began writing my SW:TOR fanfiction, it was long before the first of the new Thrawn novels by Mr. Zahn. Before the new Thrawn novels were produced, the ONLY Chiss lore from any official (or official-esque) source was from SW:TOR, the original Thrawn/Thrass novels, a variety of magazine articles, and the original Star Wars RPG. Therefore, every piece of lore that I had to use to develop my backstories and Kal'istae's continuing story (which ties so heavily back to the Ascendancy) came from those sources.

The reason I continue to use this lore rather than rewrite everything to conform to the new canon is because, frankly, this is 3,000 years in the past. Things change. It makes absolute sense that by the time, 3,000 years later, we meet Che'ri, the Chiss have come to accept the use of the Force and their constant genocide against Force-Sensitive Chiss has altered the genome that determines Force-Sensitivity so it only surfaces in female Chiss within a certain age-bracket and suppresses itself once they reach a certain age.

And, honestly, it's really great lore that allows for a variety of backgrounds for my Chiss Inquisitor (half-breed Chiss/Pureblood, enslaved by her father), Chiss Knight (given to a Sith warlord by her parents as a force-slave until she was freed by a Corellian Green Jedi), and Chiss Consular (smuggled out of the Ascendancy as a child by Cip'rys's family and given to the Jedi) - as well as allowing me to build a richly tragic backstory for my Chiss Smuggler (family exterminated for treason, with her the only survivor).

This is, of course, only a small fraction of the Chiss lore that I expound upon in my fanfiction. Most of it is taken from official(esque) sources as written pre-New Thrawn, but a little bit of it is made up whole-cloth because, frankly, we knew next to nothing about the inner workings of the Ascendancy until the new novels came along.

And some of what I wrote is actually now canon - even though I wrote it before the new books came out. So yay for that!

Original Ask Meme

Thank you for the ask! If anyone is interested in more of my Chiss lore interpretations/uses, please feel free to ask. I love to discuss Chiss lore.

[theladyelara]

Could a tv show save the sequel trilogy?

After watching Clone Wars and Rebels and Clone Wars again and getting my heart absolutely wrecked every time, it brought me to two conclusions. One, Dave Filoni is a god and must be protected at all costs, and two, animated shows and tv shows in general have immense power 

So there’s a fair share of prequel hate out there, a camp which I sort of understand but definitely don’t belong to, but it’s pretty much universally accepted that the clone wars is golden. For a lot of people it made the prequel trilogy so much more meaningful and impactful than it was before. Rebels only continued this trend, continuing to give depth to the world of star wars, tying in some of the EU and continuing stories of tcw characters while also simply telling a really good story of a new cast. 

Which led me to the question I posed at the beginning. Could a tv show save the sequels? We’ve seen tcw ‘save’ the prequels, could a new show do the same for Disney? 

Disclaimer, I have not watched Resistance, and I have watched Mandalorian. 

In order to break down the question we’ll have to outline some things. First: Why did tcw ‘save’ the prequels. I think it comes down to these things. They... -- expanded upon and added depth to existing characters -- expanded the world building, and lore -- successfully introduced compelling new characters  -- continued the thematic elements of the prequels and sw as a whole  -- had really good storytelling overall  -- none of these above things contradicted or disconnected from the existing world of the movies

Now, is there a show that could do that for the sequels? Explore the characters more, delve deeper into the world, and tell a compelling and cohesive story? (listen I really am asking, lmk your opinion!) 

I am going, also, to posit some of the base ideas I have as well.

First: The year is before the Force Awakens, and after Ben genocides Luke’s temple. The show will center around one Jacen Syndulla and friends. Jacen is now a young Jedi who survived the temple razing, as he had been studying under Luke beforehand. Jacen is a quick tie in to the rest of the tv shows, being the child of Hera and Kanan from Rebels. He would travel the galaxy, perhaps trying to reach out to Ben, perhaps trying to stay the heck away from him. At some point he’ll find out about Something On Jakku and we’ll see him try to get there, always thwarted at exactly the wrong moment. Rey never meets him and it’s a tragedy. I could see him working with the resistance, and we could see other facets of the ST characters through him that way. The most potential I see with this idea is exploring Ben through a character like Jacen who grew up alongside him, and we could see more of exactly how Ben fell to the dark side, Snoke’s(and ig palpatine’s) influence and Luke’s teaching. It could also be used to salvage Luke as a character and give him better motivation for whatever happened in TLJ.  Of course, if you haven’t noted it already, we come to the stumbling block with this plot thread that FA made possible. It’d be almost exactly like Rebels. And I choose to blame this entirely on the New Hope Awakens episode 4 7 and not on my elevator pitch! 

Second: The other idea I had would be half about the sequel trilogy? It’d be more of a direct sequel to episode 6, basically following the OTs as they set up a new Jedi and a new Republic. But this may be bias talking, as that’s what I’d have wanted to see, and I also don’t know how well it’d work into the ST we actually got. The potential with this story thread again is Luke and Ben and Snoke, figuring out how Palpatine, one, survived, and two, has been pulling strings this whole time. The worldbuilding potential here is also huge, chances to explain what the first order is and why it exists.  However, I don’t know how well this would make for a tv show, and does little to help the characters of the ST, as it’d largely be set slightly before their time. 

Third: Somewhere between TLJ and ROS. This is the only time skip present between the mainline movies. It’s not like tcw, where the showrunners had something deliberate and fleshed out to talk about in their show. So they don’t have much low-hanging fruit to pick up for plot, and I think the time skip is pretty short. Still, this gives the most potential for the ST characters, and expounding upon them. We could see the trio actually work together, discover their relationships together as they go on missions. Rey is trying to learn how to be a Jedi, and is getting increasingly frustrated because she can’t get it. There could be darker hints as to her heritage. Also some proper bloody foreshadowing to the rise of palpatine and the Sith in the next movie. We should see her struggle and grow, go back to Jakku and deal with that, keep confronting Ben and Luke and Leia in more interesting ways. In my head the structure is pretty much like tcw or rebels, but maybe that’s just how I expect star wars shows to be structured at this point. A series of missions, exploring themes over arcs of a few episodes. And again we come to lovely originality problems, because this would be basically TCW with OT flavor and ST characters. But if it works it works, and I think this is really the best option to ‘save’ the ST. We need to get invested into these characters, and their best bet (as far as a tv show goes), is to do for Rey what TCW did for Anakin. 

[slashing-bunni-farm]

Decided to do some world building around two oc’s :]

I don’t really know how to start this off, so I’m just gonna info dump I think 😭

in this world, it’s pretty much just our modern day earth except magic and magical creatures/entities walk among everyone. Besides Earth, there is the UnderWorld, the FeyWild, the Heavens, and Limbo. More micro terrains exist within Earth, like deep undersea cities and mountain settlements to other fantasy creatures. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Thyrians (basically furries), DemiHumans (humanoids with animal features), and imps (weak devil spawn) are the more common population races among Earth, all having learned to live among each other with humans being able to get over their fear of magic and the unknown. Now, you don’t have to choose to delve into magic, some people choose to just live with a more simple life with everyday technology (like us). But sometimes, you can’t really choose if you want to live a magic free life. Magic is kind of a sentient force in this world, it can judge whether a non-magic born being is worthy of learning magic or just goes “oh, you have magic in your families blood line? Let me just give you an extra spicy dose where you can’t exactly control it!”. Because of magic and it’s unpredictable ways, schools and universities specifically for the teachings of magic were made.

In my main story based off the two characters I posted, I’m just gonna randomly lore dump and see if it makes sense again lmao

Laura, a Demi-rabbit woman, was enrolled in a sorcery university by her parents when she was 16. Once 20 years old with four years of magic experience, before graduating sorcerers are required to summon a familiar or make a contract with an other worldly entity to ensure they can still use magic and to help guide them in what career they will take in life. Usually animal familiars, water spirits, and the souls of dead sorcerers are summoned and bound in contract to their summoners. One is to fail if they don’t do the summoning ritual correctly and will not graduate. When it was Laura’s turn, she was miserable and worried. She was just going to try summoning a rabbit or mouse familiar, maybe even a deer. Sounded easy enough to her. But she was so worried and fearful of being seen as a failure by her father for so long, she couldn’t help but to feel the strong determination to prove him wrong. She got so distracted in her feelings of pent up anger and need to prove herself, that her summoning aura shifted into something much more foreboding and serious. Once the ritual was over, everyone, including her, were trembling in their shoes from the sudden coldness and smoke that filled the room. Once everything cleared and the figure in the summoning circle made itself known, Laura knew that she screwed up her life forever.

Rorisumutt, the Damned Knight of Vengeance, Wanderer of the UnderWorld, stood before everyone. He easily towered over everyone, his invisible gaze under his helmet promising to eliminate anyone who dare pose a threat. It is rare, EXTREMELY rare to be able to summon a Death Knight, especially one that used to serve one of the Fallen Kingdoms of the UnderWorld. Rorisumutt, after his kingdom he served had fallen, went into a state of rage and vengeance, leaving violence wherever he walked in the UnderWorld without a master to serve or pledge his allegiance to. Having been summoned, he was ready to pounce at being able to serve a new master, ambitious to be able to fulfill his honor. Upon seeing that he was bound by ritual contract to a small rabbit girl… he did obviously think this had to be some kind of trick. And he was stuck in a world he was unfamiliar with, bound by unbroken magical oath to serve such a pitiful specimen.

But then again… word of someone apparently powerful enough to summon a Death Knight as a companion would surely spread.

Rorisumutt may be able to get some action and fulfill his need for honor and pledging loyalty after all.

[porcelain-paladin]

I've got a long list of video games that I've started/half completed but never finished and I've decided to try to get through them bucket list style and maybe write a review for each.

I'm gonna post the list after this but I wanted to also give my review for the game I just finished: Moonlighter, developed by Digital Sun and published by 11 bit studios.

I got the physical version of Moonlighter on the Switch some years ago and only ended up getting through ~75% of the game, with about ~18hrs of playtime total. I picked it back up a couple days ago and absolutely BLASTED through it (shout-out to my developed brain) with a new, completed save file of a little over 12hrs.

GAMEPLAY: I <3 collecting fun little objects. If you give me a collectathon or a series of items to collect/organize I will kiss you. Moonlighter is an Shop Simulator by day and a Dungeon Crawling Rogue-lite/inventory management game by night (literally! It's why the game is called "Moonlighter" [as well as being the name of your shop]) that sees you trekking through interdimensional rifts into ever changing dungeons populated by autonomous sentinels. Fiery constructs, mutated plants, and haywire machines stalk the various chambers you must trek through to acquire artifacts to sell in your shop.

The gameplay loop is very fun at first, but I found that it got a stale after the first two dungeons. An example of this is how some artifacts you find are "cursed" and have certain conditions to be placed in your inventory, such as being restricted to edge spaces or destroying an adjoining object (some curses can even benefit you!) However, after the first few dungeon runs, you have seen all the types of curses, which don't really impact how you arrange your inventory. The design of the dungeons (while visually stunning) also lacks substantial variety after your first few delves, which led to me just mindlessly blasting through each room.

Combat is very fun, with many different weapon types to try (I ran through the game with a combo of the Star Platinum Gauntlets and the Lightning Bow) and creative enemies (which there is a small pool of for each dungeon) led to me developing different strategies for dealing with different enemy combos.

The retailing aspect of the game has some challenge, but is not punishing. You set your prices and experiment to find the acceptable cost of each item, dealing with the occasional thief or item request, but beyond that there isn't much else. It's more of a way to cash in your loot than add to gameplay. This, as well as the inventory management aspect felt like there was a lot of room to build upon that never happened.

After the first dungeon, you've been introduced to everything the game has to offer, and it becomes a bit of a rinse-and-repeat process throughout the rest of them.

STORY: It's fine. A lack of build-up towards the big revelation at the dungeons' existence towards the end feels rushed and out of nowhere. The lore of the locations *before* the plot ends up taking center stage while the plot throughout the game taking a very lax backseat. It's interesting to learn about each dungeon and what caused them to end up this way.

GRAPHICS/MUSIC: Holy shit do I love this game's art. The style and design of every enemy scratches a part of my brain (especially the Desert Dungeon, which was my favorite overall) The environments are rich with details and animations are smooth as hell. The music of the base game (composed by David Fenn) is super good and builds with each floor of the dungeon you are spelunking through (Each track is separate in the official OST, sans floors 1-2 in the desert dungeon, which are one track) DAMN do I love a build-up song.

POLISH: For the most part, the game is well-made. There are several recurring (very minor) bugs and graphical glitches that do feel frustrating to deal with, especially since the game went through several updates and a paid DLC release (haven't touched the DLC yet.) Items being unreachable behind chests in your home, stray green pixels when using the Mirror item, and the camera not properly centering on the larger-than-life bosses all stick out like sore thumbs in a game that otherwise is very nice to look at.

OVERALL: Moonlighter is a creative, visually stunning game that suffers from a stagnation in gameplay elements and some unfixed bugs that hinder an overall fun game. I don't fault the game too hard, being an indie game (especially with all the bullshit around Unity rn.) I'd say it's a 7/10, I'd recommend it if you want a game to wind down with that you don't have to put much thinking into

[crowehorte]

I would say that 5e paladin is far more workable as a pop culture practice than clerics of any flavor. The thing about clerics is that they're specialists. They're monotheists in a polytheistic world, and while you could fudge it a bit to fit what you're going for, the role they're meant to fill is largely like the oracles of Delphi or an academic studying one very specific branch of theology. They have the ONE THING that they're SO DEDICATED TO that it gives them power.

With an Oath bound Paladin, you get a lot more wiggle room since you're dedicated to a set of principles rather than one specific deity. It's their conviction to their oath that grants them strength, rather than an outside force. Therefore, you can engage with a whole range of icons and deities that exemplify whatever oath/set of principles worth dedicating yourself to.

Although like- this is just general musing, mind you. I have no idea what goals/effect you're going for, anon. What is it that draws you to the concept of Clerics and Paladins? Is it the idea of healing and protection? Is it the aesthetics of a knight in shining armor? Or do you just enjoy playing those classes in D&D and you want to bring it into your life?

I personally love playing clerics because I love the idea of being the avatar of something greater and being able to put myself between those I love and an oncoming danger, but IRL the build I've fallen into is a College of Lore Bard. I love stories and I love delving into what makes certain characters think. I love learning about new things and sharing that knowledge with others. I love mythology and folklore and connecting with other people through storytelling, whether it be listening to them talk about their day or finding common ground with a shared love of media. Sure, I have my deities that I call upon and look to for guidance, but they are not central to my practice the way they would be if I was a cleric.

So yeah, uh. Lost my train of thought a bit, but I think that's kind of what makes answering a question like this hard. Without a Why or a sense of direction, all you can really do is speak in a very general sense.

Do you think someone could use the d&d clerical/paladin build irl but with other pop culture deities? If so, how do you think one would go about it? Do you think it could extend to other d&d classes?

I mean, maybe? But I can't for the life of me imagine what that would look like. Especially considering the classes are flavorfully different in different D&D editions. Don't get me started on the paladins in particular. I started in 3.5e and it's so fucking different from 5e.

Sorry for not being helpful here, anon!

~Jasper

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Have you ever gone back to things like the official SU timeline (including characters' canon ages) as a way of forming new ideas and plotting how things may happen or do you sort of just stick to your own headcanons?

I frequently reference original SU in order to build up my own AU stuff, but it’s not a way of forming new ideas, it’s more of a... structural reference? 

For the most part, my thinking works in these steps

“Wow that would be cool if that happened”

Double check the AU timeline and story to make sure that would work

Double check the original SU timeline and lore to cross-reference things I need to or want to keep consistent

Make plans to write that story in the AU based off of the information I have and add it to the pile of now AU-specific-lore. 

Which sounds pretty circular, but my goal is to straddle the line between keeping the base lore of the show while adding on and building my own stuff on top of that. 

If you want to visualize it as a literal building metaphor, here’s a crude thing I threw together:

(The pink parts represent original SU lore and the mint on top of it is what I’m working with)

For example, previously I got to thinking about the gem ability to bubble things. It’s presented as a sort of deus ex machina (albeit a very small one) in the story for the purpose of keeping gem monsters contained in a humane way. But we never understand WHY it works. All gems seem to have this ability innately, but Peridot appeared relatively surprised by the fact when she bubbled her first gem, and had no idea how to transport them. We also don’t understand the limits of this power - at one point Garnet bubbles STEVEN as a whole and just... teleports him to the temple. 

Which begs the question of how far this goes. Could the gems bubble each other without poofing? Could they bubble... themselves? And how is this different, inherently, from Steven’s bubbling ability? Can they change where the bubbles go on a whim? Could this potentially be used as a system of communication that is more useful than warps, which have set locations?

I’ve been trying to rewatch SU with the explicit purpose of catching more bubble lore, and for some reason The Diamonds are the only other gems seen to bubble things casually (Yellow keeps bubbles of the cluster experiments in her room). So that begs the question - is bubbling something that was previously specific to the Diamonds that Rose just... casually taught other gems to do...? Or is there more there?

(I’ll admit I haven’t done heavy research into this yet, and there may well be an explanation for all this.)

But this is basically an example of me trying to delve deeper and see if I can develop more AU lore by filling in spaces. If the bubble thing is not explained clearly, I’ll start trying to figure out an explanation that fits the rest of canon lore. 

I will rarely simply cut and replace SU-canon-lore. I try to keep things that we got in the show as a foundation upon which to build my own details. 

Which, actually... you know what, I change my mind. That basically IS exactly what you described! So I guess I DO do that! :) 

[lokiondisneyplus]

Loki director Kate Herron’s heart was beating fast. She’d already had some surreal experiences during her short time in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, so a simple phone call shouldn’t make her nervous. But on the other end of the line was Owen Wilson, an actor and writer she admired and hoped would join her on a time-jumping journey through the MCU.

“It was the most detailed pitch I’ve ever done, to an actor, ever. I pretty much spoke through the entire first episode with him,” Herron recalls of wooing Wilson, who wasn’t too familiar with Marvel before being cast as Mobius, an agent for the mysterious Time Variance Authority central to the series.

Wilson instantly put Herron at ease with his laid-back charm as she walked the actor through 10 years of onscreen lore for Loki, the god of mischief played by Tom Hiddleston. She answered his questions about Avengers: Endgame, about time travel, about how this version of Loki was not the one fans knew from films like Thor: Ragnarok, but rather one plucked from an alternate timeline from 2012’s The Avengers.

It was all part of a whirlwind few years for Herron, who not that long ago was temping at a fire extinguisher company and struggling to land directing work even though she’d already helmed a BBC project with Idris Elba. Then Herron finally achieved breakthrough success directing episodes of the Netflix hit Sex Education and soon was hounding her agents for a Marvel meeting.

When Herron finally landed one, the Loki superfan cleared her schedule and spent two weeks putting together a 60-page document, even though her agents tempered her expectations by noting it was just a meet-and-greet.

“I knew I’d be up against some really big directors, and I knew I wouldn’t be the most experienced in the room, so I [said], ‘OK. I’ll just be the most passionate,'” recalls Herron.

Just a few days after officially landing the job, Herron found herself on a five-hour walk through New York with Hiddleston discussing Loki and flying to D23 in Anaheim to be greeted by thousands of screaming fans alongside Loki head writer Michael Waldron.

Herron is now working long days finishing up Loki in Marvel’s production hub in Atlanta, where the British filmmaker has largely lived since getting the job in 2019. Over Zoom from her freezing Atlanta apartment (she still hasn’t figured out the quirks of the air conditioner), Herron dives into Loki ahead of its June 9 debut on Disney+.

What was your process of sitting down with Marvel for this?

I was just so overexcited. [My agents] were like, “Look, it’s just a casual conversation, they just want to get a sense of you,” and basically I was like, “OK, I’m just going to pitch them.” Because I thought, they might not meet me again. So I got as much information as I could, and they sent me a little bit about the show. And I just prepared a massive pitch for it. I canceled everything for two weeks. I made a 60-page document full of references, story ideas, music. I knew I’d be up against some really big directors, and I knew I wouldn’t be the most experienced in the room, so I [said], “OK. I’ll just be the most passionate.”

Was that first meeting in Burbank?

That was in England, in southeast London on Zoom. I had a few stages where I did that. Then after a few interviews with Kevin Wright and Stephen Broussard, two of the Marvel executives who got me ready for the big match, I went in to pitch to Kevin Feige, Victoria [Alonso], Lou [Louis D’Esposito], the whole team there. That was very surreal because they flew me to Burbank and I pitched at Marvel Studios. I didn’t have the job, but I found out they were interested and then I remember Kevin Feige called me, and when he was in London, we had coffee. He was like, “Look, we want you to direct it.” Oh my God. They flew me to D23 and that was crazy because I think I found out I got the job 48 hours before, and then I was onstage. The Lady and the Tramp dogs were in front of me and Michael [Waldron] on the red carpet. “What is going on?” (Laughs.) I met Tom that week as well, so it was a bit of a whirlwind kind of thing.

📷Herron, Waldron and Feige at D23 in 2019.

Where did you first meet Tom?

I had a two-stop trip. I flew first to New York to meet Tom. He was in Betrayal at the time, on Broadway, so we basically went on this amazing walk around New York. I’d never met him before. We just spoke about Loki and what was really important to us about the character and where we thought it would be fun to take him, as well. It was this intense, five-hour conversation with him basically. I met him and then flew straight from meeting him to D23. So it was a lot. (Laughs.)

When did you finally get the scripts? How did that change your thoughts on what you want to do?

They sent me the outline, so I knew the overall story. I also was pitching stuff. “Oh, we could do this with this character.” The pilot was really well written by Michael and I really liked what they were doing with the character and the story. Then it was building upon that and throwing in ideas for where he could go later in the show. It reminded me a bit of improv where you’re always building, always trying to push the story to the best place. So we were always adapting and shifting the story. Our lockdown, during COVID, was a chance for us to go back in. I was cutting what we’d done, so I was like, “OK, this is tonally what is really working for the story.” Then we went back into what we hadn’t filmed and started adapting that stuff to fit more where we were heading.

The Marvel movies have a writer on set to help tweak things. Was that the case with Loki?

Michael [Waldron] was with us at the start, and then he went on to Doctor Strange [in the Multiverse of Madness]. We had a really wonderful writer called Eric Martin from our writers room, and he was our production writer on set. It was between me, him and my creative producer Kevin Wright. We would kind of brainstorm and adapt. I’ve always loved talking to the cast. We had such a smart cast. Owen is a writer as well. If you have that amazing resource, why not talk to them? We were always adapting. Obviously paying respect to the story we wanted to tell from the start, but always trying to make it better.

📷Herron on the set of ‘Loki’ with Hiddleston and Wilson.

Kevin Feige has said Owen Wilson, like his character, is nonplussed by the MCU. Since Owen isn’t necessarily dazzled by Marvel, does that make him all the more perfect for this role?

He is playing a Loki expert, so at the beginning of production, Tom and I were talking. He devised this thing called Loki School. He did a big lecture to the cast and crew. I love the character. This is a decade of fans loving this character and where that character has been. It was talking everyone through that, but through Tom and his own experiences. Stunts that Tom liked or costumes. He ended up doing that same Loki school for Owen. Owen absolutely loved it. Owen has such a writer’s brain. I remember I had to pitch him down the phone. My heart rate [was up].

Was this the pitch to get him to get Owen on board?

Yeah. I love his work. “Oh my God, I’m going to talk to Owen Wilson.” He’s so laid back and nice, it immediately puts you at ease. It was the most detailed pitch I’ve ever done, to an actor, ever. I think I pretty much spoke through the entire first episode with him. You can tell he’s a writer, just by the way he attacks story. His questions about the world and the structure and the arc of the character. It was really fun to work with him.

Was it the most detailed pitch you’ve ever done because you really wanted Owen, or because you knew you needed to woo him a bit to get him to sign on?

It was the questions he asked, and the way he attacked story, in that sense. And also probably because he was newer to the Marvel world, he was like, “OK, how does this work?” I also pitched him Loki’s arc over the past 10 years, where that character has gone, but also explaining our Loki and what happened in Endgame and time travel. There’s a lot to unpack in that conversation.

Sometimes Marvel will give writers or directors a supercut of all the scenes of a specific character. Did you get one of those?

They didn’t actually give me a supercut, but I’m a big Loki nerd. I think his is one of the best [arcs] in the MCU. I really wanted to make sure we were paying respect to that. At the same time, something Tom spoke about a lot was you have to go back for a reason. Let’s be united on what that reason is and feel that it’s worth it.

The reason can’t be, “Well that’s what happened in Endgame,” so the question becomes, “What is the point of revisiting him at this era of his life?”

Yeah. He’s only had — I don’t want to get this wrong — I think 112 minutes of screen time in total if you cut all his scenes together. And he steals the show. We have six hours to really delve into this character and talk about him and go on this completely new story with him. For me, it was making sure that [we’re] paying respect to what has come before — I know as a fan if there is a character I really loved and I found out they are making a show about him, I obviously would be so excited and so happy. I felt lucky to have the responsibility, and I took it very seriously.

Those who have worked with Kevin Feige say he’s someone who can stress test an idea and push things in new directions. What have you found working with him?

Something I always found was we would sometimes pitch something, and it would be at a good place, but he’d always be like, “OK, that’s great, but push it further.” Sometimes I’d pitch stuff and be like, “This is too weird,” and he’d say, “No, go weirder.” He wants to tell the best story and I found it really helpful having his eye across everything and the fact that he does challenge everything. Tom as well, on set. He brings this amazing energy and this great A-game that causes everyone to rise to the occasion.

How do you know when you’ve got the perfect Hiddleston take? Is he asking you for one more, are you pushing him to do one more take?

By the end, it was almost telepathic. We would kind of know. We would look at each other. “We could go again,” or, “We’ve got it.” It’s different with every actor. There are some actors who will come in firing and they just want to go for it. But they don’t want to do a million takes. There are other actors I work with who are very meticulous and they want quite a few to warm up and get into it. It’s actor-dependent. The way me and Tom are similar is we are both very perfectionist. We are both very studious. (Laughs.) We definitely connected in that sense. He’s a very generous actor. I remember one day, we had quite a few of our actors coming in as day players. It was really important for him to be there for them, to read lines offscreen. He would have to be 50 places at once, because he is the lead actor. The most amazing thing about him was his generosity. Not just to the other actors, but also to the crew, to be filming in a time like COVID.

When you make an Avengers movie, you get a big board with every character that’s available, and whether the actor’s deals will allow them to appear or if that would need to be renegotiated. Loki is smaller, but was there any equivalent for you? Was everything on the table? Was only some stuff on the table? I imagine if Chris Hemsworth has his own new Thor movie coming up, he’s not going to be on the table, necessarily.

I felt like everything was on the table if it meant it was good for story, and Marvel would be like, “We’ll work it out.” Me and the writers, we never felt restrained in that sense. Honestly, it always comes back to story.

What is your relationship with your editor as you finish this up?

We have three editors, Paul Zucker, Emma McCleave and Calum Ross. My relationship with all three of them is very different. Emma and me are very close because she was also in Atlanta away from home. I got to know her very well. I love working with the editors because it’s a fresh pair of eyes. You get so deep into something when you are filming, it’s almost like writing it again when you are in the edit. Stuff does change. Even some episodes, we’ve reordered the structure. Or we moved scenes from one episode to another episode. I’ve always loved the editing process. The best thing is someone honest who can be like, “Hey, this doesn’t quite make sense to me,” or, “This isn’t working.”

What are you going to do on premiere day? Will you be on the internet at all to see the reaction?

I’m actually working. I’m still finishing the show. My last day is the day the second episode airs. I’m going to be working that day. Sadly, I’ll probably check in on the internet a little bit, but I’ll probably go to bed when I finish because I think I’ll do a 12- or 13-hour day or something. I can’t remember. I’m really excited for people to see it and just to bring it out in the world, really.

Everyone wants to know about spoilers, but what’s something you wish you were asked about more when it comes to Loki?

Kevin Feige said, “We make movies. We want to run it like a movie.” So unlike a lot of television shows that are showrunner-led, this was run like a six-hour film. As a director, you don’t often get to do that in a television-structure show. I really enjoyed it, having a hand in story and just how collaborative it was. Also, just beyond that, directing the equivalent of a six-hour Marvel movie was incredible for me. That’s something I found interesting about it. Making something the Marvel way.

In terms of the themes, I love gray areas. The show is really about what makes someone truly good or what makes someone truly bad, and are we either of those things? Loki is in that gray area. It’s exciting to be able to tell a story like that. As a director and a writer, you don’t necessarily understand why you are making these stories. Something I keep getting drawn back into is identity. Sex Education, we spoke a lot about identity and feeling like an outsider but actually finding your people. I feel the same with Loki. It’s a show about identity and self-acceptance and for me, that’s also what drew me in.

Gray is a good way to describe Loki. Your version of Loki just tried to take over the Earth not long ago.

Exactly. This isn’t the Loki we’ve seen. How do we take a character that people love, but from a lot earlier, and send him on a different path? That for me was interesting, getting to unpack that. Alongside that, getting to set up a whole new corner of the MCU with TVA. That to me was so exciting.

What about the Teletubbies? You referenced that recently and it made quite a splash. Are you going to leave people in suspense on that?

I referenced the Teletubbies once and people were like, “What, Teletubbies? What does this mean?” Maybe I should leave people in the air with it. One thing I would say is the show for me, stylistically — I wanted it to be a love letter to sci-fi because I love sci-fi. Brazil, Metropolis, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Alien. If people love sci-fi, they will definitely see the little nods we’ve got across the show.  People will know what it was a reference for when they see the show. It was a visual reference to something in the show.

Interview has been edited for length and clarity. Loki debuts on Disney+ on June 9.

[poptod]

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them.  also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

+

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you–��if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

[danwhobrowses]

Star Wars Visions - Review

So I finally finished watching all of Visions, the ambitious anime project set in a Star Wars loose if at all canon, and I truly had a good time with it, as a fan of anime and Star Wars I was curious how they would deliver.

Spoilers for Visions, watch it then come back here to read what I thought about it. Reminder: This is my own personal opinion

So as I said, really enjoyed this experiment Disney decided to take, the 9 episodes weren't all flawless but they weren't awful either, so I'm gonna go through what I liked and disliked about it.

We'll start with the negatives, since they're few, picky and it gets it out of the way.

What Wasn't Great

Runtime A veiled negative has to be many episode's runtimes being too short, some only lasting 10-15 minutes. Before watching I was expecting all to be at least 30 minutes, so it was a shame that none lasted that long.

Episode 2: Glorified Music Video I think Episode 2 was perhaps the weakest episode of the nine for me, because it was all building up to a song. I think it probably leaned a bit too much on existing characters like Jabba and Boba, as well as Tatooine, to carry interest, so it was a bit of a low point.

Episode 3: Studio Trigger keep their balls away from the wall Episode 3's The Twins wasn't bad, it just lingered a bit too much on the less fun things. Studio Trigger had made a name for themselves for striking visuals and absolutely batshit crazy fight scenes that ignore all manner of physics with the likes of Promare, Kill La Kill and Darling of the Franxx (and kinda Gurren Lagann, the company was made as a result of that so it's like a Studio Ghibli thing with Nausicaa) but The Twins didn't have enough of the major fight scene for my liking, given how most of what we saw was in the trailer. Maybe it's the fault of the trailer, but it did feel like you could just watch the trailer rather than the episode, which is a bad thing.

Episode 7 too, but it also lacks bravery The Elder was also a good episode, but it too lacked in the final fight, the ending being very abrupt. The Elder also had a problem in that they wasted their good characters, but also failed in stakes. Had the padawan been killed instead of simply being wounded by a lightsaber slash to the belly it probably would've worked more, since we were shown that the Elder is precise in his cutting and it would've served to increase the urgency of the master fighting him too. The fight was short and out of the characters we lost it was the most important character that bit the dust.

The Episode Order could've been Better My final criticism has to be that the order of the episodes felt like it could've been better. Starting with The Duel was right but following it up with Tatooine Rhapsody brought the mood down, likewise putting The Elder after T0-B1 was perhaps too jarring a theme switch. The bigger sin was probably ending with Akakiri. Akakiri was good, but it was a downer and you don't really finish a Season 1 on a downer because you want people to feel excited for more rather than feeling bleak about it; with the options of Lop & Ocho, The Elder, The Village Bride and The Ninth Jedi (which would've been my pick for episode 9) it was an odd choice to pace the episodes in such a way - even when knowing that people would binge in this order. FYI if you wanted to know how I would've ordered the episodes it would've been The Duel -> The Elder -> The Twins -> Lop & Ocho -> Tatooine Rhapsody -> T0-B1 -> The Village Bride -> Akakiri -> The Ninth Jedi

This way we start strong with Sith-heavy episodes that grip with combat, we have the Duel to set us off, we show off the Elder to sell the Dark Side's strength, which blends into the Twins and that sibling relationship blends into Lop & Ocho, we use Tatooine Rhapsody as an intermission of sorts but then carry the lighter theme with T0-B1, whose artistic elements and worldbuilding leans into the Village Bride. We make Akakiri the penultimate since we show the Jedi succumb to the Dark for love in contrast to the Elder where the Jedi succeeds by steeling emotions, before finishing strong with Ninth Jedi.

What Was Great

Anime is perfect for Star Wars Star Wars has of course delved into animation before; Clone Wars (both), Rebels, Resistance and Bad Batch, but never like Anime. So Visions was allowed to shine by showing off everything anime can offer which more realistic CGI and live action could not. Bright colour grading, physics-defying movement, as well as unique character and lightsaber shapes.

(Mostly) Not Wasting Time While I have criticized some episodes for not making the most of things, and not having enough time, but many episodes would last 12-15 minutes and still feel like they had a coherent storylines with no gaps in getting to know the brand new characters or a lack of important information and investment. It is a testament to the good writing of the episodes that episodes got so much from such little time.

We're Left Wanting More In spite many episodes' brevity, the good writing also provided us stories with great potential to be fleshed out. Who wouldn't want to learn more about these new characters? See most of their adventures? The franchise potential from certain stories' one episode makes the experiment an unequivocal success.

The different styles add to the story Using a different anime studio for each story allowed each episode to stand out in their own way, and lean on different areas of importance. The Duel for instance applied a Kurosawa aesthetic which made the audience anticipate samurai themes. As much as the animation will get props for its visuals, environments and character design we should also give a hat-tip to the amazing music, especially in The Village Bride, and the voice acting from both JP and EN. We had some recognizable faces on both sides with EN having Joseph Gordon-Levitt, David Harbour, George Takei, Neil Patrick Harris, Allison Brie, Simu Liu, Karen Fukuhara, Lucy Liu and Taemura Morrison reprising as Boba, while on the JP side we had names familiar with One Piece (Zoro - why you gotta be a sith Zoro!, Brook, Tama, Kiku), DBZ (Goku), Naruto (Hidan, Tayuya and if you count Boruto; Chocho and Kawaki), Jujitsu Kaisen (Itadori, Megumi, Nobara) and more. The different styles also allowed a greater freedom to lore between studios, I know the lightsaber colour thing was done in High Republic but I did like how in the Ninth Jedi Kara's lightsaber started out translucent (I actually preferred it that way), while not diverting too far away from the canon.

The Samurai style episodes were the strongest While some episodes leaned on other elements of Star Wars, the best of the bunch kept true with the correlation force users had with samurai. The Duel, Village Bride and Ninth Jedi - alongside Akakiri, Elder and kinda T0-B1 - had strong showings by maintaining their force user characters as samurai or samura-esque, which only added to the themes of the episodes too.

Its success will hopefully entice more Studios and Directors A positive for the future is the fact that there is a future. Visions has plenty of mileage as both a series of one-off stories or stories that can be expanded upon, and its success will mean that more will be on the cards. Imagine now what other studios may want to try their hand at their own story in this universe? And what it does not only for the franchise but also the animation studios themselves, because this in itself becomes a bridge for fans on either side to be introduced to the other; new anime fans, new star wars fans, everybody wins.

Conclusion

Visions provides an alternative in Star Wars media outside of live action but also away from the CGI tv shows, but it has started off strongly almost as well as The Mandalorian and in my opinion better than the Bad Batch did. My favourite episode was probably the Ninth Jedi, but Village Bride and the Duel are close runners up, soon followed by Lop & Ocho, I hope very much that the stories these ones started especially can be fleshed out and maybe even greenlit for their own series, while also curious about what more Star Wars can deliver.

All in all, good job for everyone, they took a risk and it paid off.

[earthbased]

Making Your Own Correspondences for Plants

Disclaimer: This post is about magical and spiritual use, not medical, and medical use is mentioned only for historical examples. Don’t mess around with medicine unless you know what you’re doing, or consult someone who does. I’ve previously written about where the majority of magical plant correspondences tend to come from in modern pagan & witchcraft sites and books. If you decide to DIY some or all of your correspondences, how you do it will depend on what your beliefs and practices are. Some things to consider:

Do you believe the magical properties are already in the plants, are unchangeable, and need to be discovered? Or that they depend on your beliefs and associations?

Do you value individuality and personal significance, or having shared lore with your community and culture? Or both?

Do you value the process of relationship-building with a plant or spirit?

Do you value receiving lore through ancestry or lineage? Does it matter to you how old it is?

I’m going to delve deeper into 3 main sources: existing lore, physical characteristics and the plant itself.

===1. Building upon existing lore===

Learning the history and folklore of a plant, even if it doesn’t have existing magical uses, is likely to give you ideas and a deeper understanding. Some potential sources of lore: recorded folklore and common names, oral tradition, fairytales and nursery rhymes, etymology, flower meanings, appearances in mythology, appearances in well-known books or poems, pop culture and fiction.

Whether or not you want to think about it, the greater story of your practice includes the story of your lore and how it came to you. Oftentimes that story involves violence, theft, deception and ridicule. BIPOC have written at length about cultural appropriation [link, link, link, link] & cultural genocide as one of the ongoing harms of colonisation and racism. If you’re not part of a culture that traditionally stewards a certain plant or body of lore, listening to (whether literally hearing or by other means) and respecting those people’s voices is your ongoing responsibility when engaging with it. Navigating these issues as a member of an oppressing group often involves ambiguity and discomfort. This is also part of the path. Remember that we’re blessed to have the opportunity to listen to these voices today. Others did not survive.

Practical uses, both modern and historical often include medicine, but there’s much more, e.g. thorny plants’ association with protection - not only because the thorns protect the plant itself, but because thorny hedges have been grown in many times and places to deter large animals or trespassers from crossing a fence. More recently, I suspect the modern-day association of lemon with cleaning products has led to its current use in magical cleansing.  In any case plenty of common correspondences have arisen fairly recently from modern-day uses. Whether you place special value upon ancient or pre-modern lore is up to you.  The reasons behind old magical lore were often related to practical use, so I see it as a continued tradition.

===2. Looking at physical characteristics===

What you see depends on how you look (and think). Many plants have heart, star or crescent-shaped leaves. What do these things mean to you? A crescent usually reminds me of the moon but you could also see it as a claw or a smile, two things with very different connotations. Sympathetic magic (a phrase from anthropology) is the idea that things can magically affect each other based on their similarities. But beyond the obvious, there are also symbolic meanings. Many unrelated trees across the world happen to have dark red oozing sap, often earning them a name like "bloodwood". A straightforward use of sympathetic magic would mean it can affect blood, e.g. to stop bleeding. But symbolically, blood often means vitality, death, birth or rebirth, so that oozy tree could be thought to represent any of those things too. Learning observable facts about a plant can be a rich source of inspiration and understanding. Some things to consider: habitat, place of origin, endangered or invasive status, the wild form of a domesticated plant, gardening information, close relatives, lifecycle and seasonal cycle, and parts of interest (leaves, roots, flowers, seeds). For example, a plant well known for its flowers could have something interesting about its seeds which are usually overlooked. The internet is a bountiful source of information, as are books. Your local community likely includes many people who might be willing to pass on their knowledge, for example in local gardening or nature enthusiast clubs, nurseries, environmental groups, and cultural organisations.

You can apply a traditional method of Western astrology to make brand new correspondences to use for sympathetic magic, even with plants that have never been used this way before. This involves comparing the physical qualities of plants (shape, colour, smell, texture etc) with a list of qualities associated with each planetary energy. You might pick one or two features that stand out and concentrate on those. The planet it matches best is considered its ruling planet and will determine its magical application. It's possible for different parts of a plant to have different ruling planets, but not necessary. Common references for planetary qualities include Renaissance philosopher HC Agrippa and famous herbalist Nicholas Culpeper, but your associations may differ, or come from another system of astrology entirely. In any case, once the plant is connected to the planet, it’s also connected to everything else the planet represents. For example, if I determined that a herb in my garden had Venusian qualities, I’d consider it useful for any magic involving love, beauty, harmony or comfort. By a similar process you can assign herbs to a list of deities, zodiac signs, tarot cards, or whatever you want. 

===3. Asking the plant itself===

What this looks like depends on your personal beliefs and practices. It might mean asking an individual plant or a spirit representing the whole species. It may involve trance or ritual, or be as simple as listening inwardly for an internal voice in your thoughts. Will you seek out a living plant, contact it through its dried leaves, invoke its spirit into your space or meet it in a non-physical plane? Additionally, not all communication is about sound and words. Among humans some languages are signed and some people communicate with picture boards. Images, emotion, gesture, touch, music and body language are things to consider.

In some belief systems listening to plants may be interpreted more metaphorically, involving intuition or imagination. Using intuition-enabling practices such as dream work or trance may help you to connect your accumulated knowledge to a spiritual or magical meaning. Imagination and roleplay is also a way of gaining a new perspective, such as the deep ecology practice of a psychodrama called the Council of All Beings (note that the original form was heavily influenced by misappropriated Native American practices and stereotypes).

“What [something/someone] is telling me” is a phrase that can be used literally or figuratively in English. In other languages, especially Indigenous ones, such a distinction may not exist. This use of grammar can reflect a way of thinking and relating that considers humans as one part of a whole. If you were raised in a colonial mindset, asking the plant about its correspondences (whatever form that takes) and considering the plant’s priorities can be a way of challenging that mindset by reframing the interaction as one between two beings, rather than a human acting on a passive object. To me this way of thinking invites respect and reciprocity. How you can act upon that is a topic for another post, or maybe another author.