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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Born Under The Wrong Sign

Part 1

Summary: Dean Winchester, hunter, killer of Gods, demons, and monster, was born as an Omega. It never felt right, and he wants a change of biology. After all, just cause it's what we're assigned, it shouldn't identify who we are...

Pairing: Omega!Dean Winchester x Alpha!Reader

Written For: @spnkinkbingo

Square field: Omegaverse

Word Count: 1833

Beta’d By: @miss-nerd95! Thanks again hun!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Identity Crisis? ABO Dynamics, smut, unprotected smut, mention of past abusive parents. John’s A+ parenting, knotting, dirty talk, language, talk of sex change and presentation changes. Some self hate. I think that’s about it.

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written like this one, even for ABO, and even though I’m sure they’re out there I’ve never read one quite like it. So, that being said, I’m pretty nervous about throwing this one out there for you guys! So I really do hope you enjoy it! Feedback is golden! Please do not copy my work! This is part 1, part 2 will drop later this week!!

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Being a hunter was hard, regardless of anyone's presentation.

Dean had it a bit harder than most. It was bad enough when your father was John fucking Winchester, but if you were also born with the rare presentation of Omega, and you were a male on top of that, well, life was definitely not going to be in your favour.

Dean had been able to hide his presentation from his father for the most part. He had presented late. He was already 19, and only just an year ago had endured his first heat, which nearly scared him to death because he had thought he was a Beta up until that point.

Suppressants thankfully helped in keeping his scent from his Alpha father and Sammy was usually at Bobby’s most of the time. It was a lot harder to hide things from his little brother because he was with him 90 percent of the time, and had a knack to call him out when Dean was hiding something.

Why couldn’t he just be born a Beta? Hell, nothing was better than this, was it.

Male Omegas were rare, very rare, and usually went unwanted and almost never found a mate. It was almost impossible to find an Alpha female, because they were almost as rare as an Omega male and Dean had never been with a man before. It scared the fuck out of him that one day he might have to do just that in order to survive a heat. Then throwing pups into the equation with the life he lived and a not so supportive father? Fuck… This was bad, and he had to hide it and fight his biology as long as possible.

The night John found him in heat in a Denver motel room when he was only 22 years old was a night he tried to respress. John had been so...angry. Dean thought he was going to beat him to death; he was so angry. How could the son of John Winchester be a Beta after all? That was unacceptable.

It took almost a year for his father to look him in the eye again, and he had to work extra hard to prove that he could still follow orders, and could still hunt. It took him even longer to prove that his Omega presentation didn’t make him weaker than the Alphas they hunted with as well, and that he could hold his own.

Dean was larger than any male Omega they had ever seen, and that was a good thing. It meant John could hide the fact that his son was an Omega from other hunters. He was also just as strong as any Alpha male, and could carry himself with the same dominating demeanor when he needed too. It was a prodigy of being a child of war really. Cause that’s what this was, wasn’t it? War?

Years after John’s death, when Dean was around 35, he met you.

At first, he thought you were another Omega because you were too small and petite for an Alpha. That was until he caught your scent anyway. It threw him into an immediate heat, and he knew you were his. You took a little convincing, but after a while you came around to claiming your Omega. It was the first real knot Dean had ever taken, you made sure to keep his claiming mark low, because an Omega male hunter around other hunters was probably the equivalent of a black spot on a pirate. They would surely stop respecting him, if not kill him.

For years now, whenever Dean’s heat would come close, the two of you would go and hide away in one of Bobby’s old cabins so that you could take care of your Omega, and he’d be safe during his heat.

Pups were not an option for a hunter, regardless of whether the Omega was male or female. It just wasn’t wise. Dean was absolutely not for having pups, being knotted was nothing more than a means to an end for him, and he worked extra hard to keep up with all birth control. You even made sure to take it yourself, because being a female Alpha, you still oddly ran the risk of pregnancy, even if it were rare and a lot harder than it was for Dean to get pregnant, with him wanting no slips whatsoever. It was just too dangerous.

Normally you got through Dean’s heat without much trouble, in fact you enjoyed your time during them with him. It was the only time Dean would ever let his guard down and let you take care of him the way an Alpha should of their Omega.

This time though, it was different. The fever was a lot higher than usual. Dean was a lot more needy, and this heat was long, longer than his average anyway, and even Dean was getting frustrated.

As you lay on the bed next to him now, your knot still holding his body in place to your own, and your fingers brushing through his sweat dampened hair, you couldn’t help but notice how sad he looked. Honestly, it killed you. You wanted to make it better for him.

You’d reverse the roles if you could. You really would. You wouldn’t mind being an Omega, because in truth you hated being a female Alpha. There was no respect there as an Alpha, and it was tiring.

“You know, people are born the wrong genders. Males can sometimes identify as females and vice versa all the time. Do you think it’s possible to be born with the wrong presentation?” Dean asked, his voice low, as if he was ashamed of even thinking of the question.

You knew how Dean felt about his presentation, but you never would have guessed he would ask you that question, and for a moment it stumped you. Slowly, as to not hurt him, you withdrew his length from your body as your knot subsided, not bothering to get dressed because you knew he was going to need you again in less than an hour.

“Dean, I don’t know,” you told him honestly. “I mean, there’s a lot more than hormones and physical attributes that make up your presentation. It’s not as simple as a few operations and some hormone replacement therapy to change your biology. It’s something that’s part of you on a molecular level. I mean, what people who go through those types of changes is anything but easy, and they are damn brave for doing them, but as far as a presentation? I don’t know babe. That seems almost impossible.”

A high pitched whine escaped from his lips before he nuzzled deeper into your hair, and you couldn’t tell if it was his heat making him uncomfortable again, or if he was just that disappointed.

“If I ever found a way, would you still love me?” he asked, and you felt as if you had been kicked in the face. How could you not love him? He was a part of you. He was your everything, and if he found a way to change his presentation you wouldn’t love him any less if it made him happier. Hell, you’d love to change yours too! So how could he even ask you that question? What had you done wrong for him to think that?

“Dean,” you coo, coaxing him out of your neck where he was scenting you and forcing him to look at you.

You could see the Omega beneath was already crawling it’s way back towards the surface, and his cock was already twitching against your thigh, so you rolled him over on his back and start licking and kissing your way down his body until you reach his throbbing length, taking him in your hands and pumping him slowly before giving the tip a few kitten licks; reveling in the groan that fell from his lips.

“I’d love you no matter what presentation you would be. You know damn well I’d love to change mine if I could. How could I hate you. You’re mine. You were literally created for me, and whether I’m calling you Alpha, Omega or Beta makes no difference to me,” you tell him earnestly before taking his length as deep into your mouth as you could, sucking until he was clawing at the sheets beneigh thim.

“Fuck Alpha! Please! I need your knot,” Dean whimpered as he keened and arched into your touch as you licked your way up his torso to his lips, giving him a taste of himself as you captured his lips in yours before you sunk down on his ready length; swallowing up his little moans as you did .

“Gonna take good care of you Omega, and after this heat is over, we will see what we can do about that presentation problem. I promise.”

Dean's groans and grunts turned into a deep moan as you started to ride him earnestly, rising and falling on his cock at a faster pace with each passing minute. You ran your fingers over the pebbled skin of his chest as goose bumps arose with every wave of pleasure that racked through his body. God he was so beautiful, it was almost painful.

“You like that, baby,” you purred, leaning down long enough to run your tongue over his claiming mark, making him keen and grip your lips bruisingly. “Like the thought of me spread out real pretty for you, begging for your knot.”

“Fuck Alpha,” Dean cried, shuddering underneath you as you slowled your hips to an agonlizingly slowly roll over his, teasing him, and dragging out his release before your knot could lock you together again.

“Bet you do like that don’t you? Bet you would love to have fucking spread open on your knot, milking you and letting you fill me with your pups; calling me a good little Omega.”

Dean’s orgasm raced through his body as he cried out, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as your knot locked the two of you in place, and your own release made you breathless.

You helped Dean ride out his high, and when he fully came down, he slid the two of you on your sides so that you could lay there comfortably until you were able to release him.

“I love you Dean, I always will,” you promised him. “When this is over, I'll do everything in my power to fulfill my promise.”

Dean nuzzled into your hold, and you could feel his body instantly start to cool as his heat finally waned, allowing him to fall into an almost immediate sleep.

People should be identified by their genders, they should have the right to say when something feels off or different. Why should Dean and yourself be subjected to a biology that you don’t belong to.

There had to be a way, and you wouldn’t stop until you found it.

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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Selfies, Tea, and Photography

AO3

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader Pen Pal Fic

Premise: based off this post I made a while back where I mused on the concept of a clone/reader insert pen pal fic. Starting off with Fox based on a suggestion by @istanmyman

Word count: ~3.9k

Rating: G

Other notes: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, apparently I can only write Thorn as Fox’s best bro and nosy wingman

When you heard the news that the Grand Army of the Republic was starting up a correspondence program for troopers and civilians to connect and communicate, you immediately signed up for it. Not that your friends and family weren’t enough for you, it was just that you itched to learn more about the galaxy and what it was like to live and travel among the stars. Enrolling in the program was the closest you were going to get until you were able to travel yourself.

(That, and you were curious to learn more about the clones who were fighting for the Republic.)

Around a month after signing up for the program, you learned you were matched with CC-1010, also known as “Fox.” A few days after learning about your match, you received your first message from him.

Hello,

I am Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I am stationed on Coruscant, where I oversee the security of the Senate, manage operations at the military base on the planet, and coordinate with local authorities to maintain public safety. My fellow Guard Commanders and I are participating in this correspondence program to connect with Republic citizens we have sworn to protect and defend. I look forward to communicating with you.

Regards,

Commander Fox

His opening message was … something. It read like he didn’t want to be in the program, like his fellow Commanders may have forced him to do it with them. You also supposed he may have not known how else to introduce himself, and that was the best way he could think of to make a good first impression.

Regardless of the reason for his overly stiff and formal introduction, you wrote up your first message to Fox:

Hello Commander Fox, it’s nice to meet you!

I live on Naboo, in a small town in the lake country. I have a job in my grandmother’s tea shop. It’s not nearly as exciting as guarding Senators or catching bad guys, but it’s quiet and peaceful. I’m saving up to travel the galaxy one day, and until then the next best thing is talking with people like you who live in different places.

I do have some questions for you: what’s it like living on Coruscant? What do you do in your free time? Do you have any exciting stories about saving Senators from Separatists that you can share?

Hope to hear from you soon!

You signed with your name and sent the message.

A few days later, Fox sent his response. He greeted you by name in his opening line then went on to say:

Coruscant is loud, crowded, and messy. Feels like the planet never sleeps, with all the noise and lights at all hours of the day. My troopers and I live in barracks on the surface, and we don’t get much free time. Some of the boys like to go to this bar called 79’s that a lot of clones frequent. It’s not my favorite place, though. When I have free time, I like to relax with a good book, watch holodramas, or catch up on sleep. The work we do is important and a great service to the Republic, but a quiet peaceful life on Naboo with no excitement would be a welcome change of pace compared to my current station.

I haven’t rescued any Senators in the line of duty, but I did help Senator Amidala arrest Ziro the Hutt at the beginning of the war. I like Senator Amidala, she has a good head on her shoulders.

(She’s your Senator, isn’t she?)

I hope that’s what you were wanting to hear.

Looking forward to your response,

Commander Fox

You smiled to yourself as you read his message, and you imagined him in full armor laying back in a bed reading a book. Quiet, restful moments that you took for granted in your quiet life must have been sacred to a man like Fox.

The following day, you hiked out to the nearest lake to take pictures. You made sure to capture the lush green grass surrounding the lake, the colorful wildflowers growing along the shore, the sparkling crystal blue waters, and the majestic waterfalls that poured water into the lake. You made sure to include the pictures in the next message you wrote to Fox:

Senator Amidala is indeed from Naboo. She was our Queen too, back when I was younger. Everyone in my town loves her, and my grandma even has her royal portrait on display in the shop.

Not much has really happened since I last wrote to you. But I did go out and take some pictures of a nearby lake! The pictures are included with this message. I hope they can give you a small taste of my quiet life here.

Three weeks went by, and you hadn’t received a message from Fox. At first you figured he was busy with his duties. Then you worried that your pictures of the lake soured his mood, reminding him of something he couldn’t have. Then … you feared the worst.

One day after work, you went home and checked your message inbox on your computer. There was a message waiting for you from Fox. You breathed a sigh of relief as you opened it and read:

I’m sorry it took me so long to write you back. There was a bombing that took out the Senate’s power grid, and then a hostage crisis with bounty hunters, and then Ziro the Hutt escaped from prison. When I haven’t been scouring the city for Ziro or his accomplices, I have been neck-deep in paperwork.

Ironic, how right after I brag about helping bring Ziro into custody, he escapes.

I appreciate the pictures you sent me. Naboo looks like a beautiful planet. I would love to visit someday.

~ Fox

You took note of how he signed off with just his name, not his rank, and then you leaned back in your chair to mull over what to say to him. Your first idea was to invite him to visit Naboo once the war was over, but who knew when that would be. Unable to think of anything to say, you decided to come back to it later as you went about your evening.

The next day while you were at work, you served a customer some herbal tea that was supposed to have a relaxing effect. The customer didn’t stick around long enough for you to see if it worked, but you took a tin full of the loose-leaf tea home with you after your shift. You reviewed the rules of the correspondence program, confirming that it would be appropriate to send a package to Fox, and then you packaged the tea up and took it to the shipping depot to send to Coruscant.

Stars, shipping items to Coruscant was expensive. Fox better like that tea, you thought.

Hello Fox,

I don’t mind that you wrote late. I’m just glad that nothing happened to you.

That really is some rotten luck, Ziro escaping. I hope you or the Jedi catch him and take him back to prison. In the meantime, remember to rest and take care of yourself! Coruscant needs a great Commander like you looking out for it, and I like having you as my pen pal.

I sent you a package with some tea from the shop. It’s a relaxation blend. I haven’t tried it, but it’s popular with customers. It should arrive in the next rotation or two. Hope you like it.

Three days later you got his next message:

The tea is wonderful. I had a cup of it an hour before going to bed, and I had the best sleep of my life. Thank you.

~Fox

Short and sweet, but you couldn’t ask for more.

Over the following weeks you and Fox continued to exchange messages. The two of you discovered that you shared a common interest in a holodrama series and dedicated several messages to discussing it and predicting what might happen in the coming episodes. You sent him more pictures of the countryside and of your village, and he sent you pictures of the Coruscant skyline at sunset: the way the golden light of the sun glinted off the shining chrome towers was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen, and it moved Coruscant up a few spots on your list of places to visit.

At one point you looked up pictures of the clones on the Holonet to get an idea of what Fox might look like. However, the only pictures of the troopers you could find showed them with their helmets on. The closest you could get was a ten-year-old picture of Jango Fett; Jango was ridiculously handsome, so it would stand to reason that Fox would be too.

Fox gradually began loosening up, and he shared stories about growing up on Kamino or shenanigans his brothers got into. He hinted at there being some interpersonal drama among some Senators, but he didn’t name names since he knew the supervisors of the correspondence program read his messages before sending them to you, to make sure he wasn’t divulging information he shouldn’t be.

Fox also asked you more questions about your life. You told him about your childhood, your relationship with your parents, how you got your job at your grandmother’s shop, about your friends that moved to Theed for work or university studies, and all the places in the galaxy you wanted to visit.

You mentioned wanting to see Felucia, and in his next message Fox included pictures of the planet’s colorful trees, plants, flowers, and shrubs – including a few at night, when the vegetation gave off a bioluminescent glow.

One of my fellow Commanders spends a lot of time doing missions on Felucia. I asked him for pictures to show you and he took these and sent them to me.

I’m trying to get him to join this correspondence program too, but he won’t agree to it. He spends a lot of time with his Jedi, maybe that’s enough for him.

I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings about not having a Jedi. I think about how some of them seem like a pain to work with and that it might not be worth the trouble, but then I see other Jedi treat the men under their command as friends or even family.

Which is why I’ve come to appreciate your messages. When I get them, they’re the highlight of my day. For a brief amount of time I feel like a normal person. I’ve never met you face-to-face, I don’t even know what you look like, but I consider you a friend.

~Fox

Getting pictures of Felucia from Fox made you feel all warm and fluttery inside. What he said about feeling like a normal person did as well, but it broke your heart at the same time. You wanted to stow away on a ship to Coruscant to give him a hug, and then go kick the behinds of anyone who ever made him feel bad about himself. Especially since he and his brothers worked so hard to keep people safe … it was a crime that they weren’t getting the recognition they deserved.

You snapped a picture of yourself to include in your next message, making sure the lighting and angle were just right so you looked your best. It also helped that you just happened to be wearing a color that you thought you looked good in.

Thank you for the pictures of Felucia! When I look at them it’s almost like I’m actually there. Please pass my gratitude along to your brother who took them.

I think of you as a friend too. I’m grateful to have you defending the Republic, and I’m glad to have you as my pen pal.

I don’t have much to offer you right now, other than a picture of me. At least now you can know what I look like.

You sent the message with the picture, leaned back in your chair, and watched the monitor of your computer. You knew that Fox wasn’t going to write back that same night, but you imagined him opening the message, reading your words, seeing your picture, and smiling the way his message made you smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Were you developing a crush on him?

…

Then again, so what if you were? You didn’t have to tell him, you could hide it. He was parsecs away on another planet. And he was a clone; would he even be allowed to date if he wanted to? Nothing would or could come of it. If a crush was forming, with any luck it would go away on its own. But that didn’t stop you from double-checking how many credits you had in your savings and comparing that number to the cost for a ticket to Coruscant.

Four days went by during which you went about your usual business, often distracted by thoughts of Fox how his day might have been going. Maybe he was chasing Separatists or criminals around, or maybe he was buried under another mound of paperwork. You wondered if he caught the newest episode of the holodrama you both liked; you couldn’t wait to talk about it with him. That little crush you were sure would fade away wasn’t going anywhere, and it both delighted and frustrated you.

The first thing you did after you got home from your shift was check your messages. It had become routine at this point, especially since a new message from him easily became the highlight of your day. However, the message in your inbox – presumably from Fox – was not what you thought it would be:

Greetings, Fox’s Pen Pal!

I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but Fox has it BAD for you. I’ve been watching him write these messages to you and hemming and hawing around the barracks and his office making sure he gets every word just right. He’s got your pictures of the lakes and fields on Naboo framed on the wall of his office, he drank all that tea you sent him and he still keeps the tin on his desk right next to your selfie. And if you knew the amount of favors he had to cash in to get our brother Bly to get those pictures of Felucia for you! (it’s a lot, trust me)

Anyway, I thought you ought to know. I told him to make a move and be honest about his feelings but he’s shy. So even though I might be overstepping some boundaries, I feel like it’s my brotherly duty to intervene on his behalf. If there’s a chance you might feel the same way, you should tell him. If you don’t, proceed how you will but please go easy on him.

If it influences your decision-making process at all, I included a picture of him. He’s a good-looking guy if I do say so myself, although he’s not as handsome as me 😉

Yours truly,

Commander Thorn

PS – please don’t tell Fox that I wrote you using his account.

You sat at your computer, staring blankly at the words on the screen, taking minutes to process what you just read … and then you remembered there was a picture attached to the message, so you opened up the attachment.

Jango Fett may have been handsome, but Fox was gorgeous. He looked like he was in his early- or mid-twenties, although there were wisps of gray hair above his ears by his temples. His hair was cropped close along the sides and longer on top, and you took a minute to admire his curl pattern. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, his face wearing a more neutral resting expression that showed off the scar running along the corner of his mouth. Finally, you noticed his eyes: framed by dark circles, his irises were a deep, inviting shade of brown. What would it be like to look into his eyes in person, or run your hands through his hair, or trace his scar with your thumb before you went in to –

You stopped yourself. You were getting carried away. Heat rose up the back of your neck and across your cheeks.

For the rest of the evening you mulled over what to do next. You knew you wanted to tell him that you liked him too … but doing it over a message didn’t feel like enough. Turning up unannounced was a bad idea too. Would he even want you to show up in person? And since you didn’t have his contact information outside of the correspondence program, you didn’t have a way to call him for a face-to-face talk via holotransceiver.

Unsure of what to do, you fired off a message as soon as the fleeting idea for it popped into your brain. Would you regret it? Maybe. Only one way to find out.

Hi Fox,

I want to come visit you on Coruscant. When will you be free?

It only took a few minutes for him to respond, but it felt like hours. The entire time your heart pounded furiously in your chest, and you bounced your leg up and down since you could barely contain your jitters inside your body. There was a chance he would say no, Thorn did say he was shy after all. But when his message came through, you opened it immediately, and all the jitters melted away.

I see you got Thorn’s message … lucky for us he’ll be available to cover for me when I’m off-duty to host you. Let me know when you’re coming.

Your mouth instantly spread into a grin … you could hardly believe it. It hardly seemed real, even as you opened up a Holonet page to book a roundtrip ticket.

Four rotations later, your transport came into orbit around Coruscant. A shuttle took you from the transport down to the planet’s surface, and you were in awe of the densely-packed constellations of lights twinkling up from the planet’s surface. Descending into the atmosphere, those lights morphed into buildings, and lanes upon lanes of speeder traffic, and seemingly endless grids of buildings. At one point you saw several buildings whose architecture differed from the others; the pilot pointed them out and said they were the Senate Complex and the Jedi Temple, respectively.

You disembarked from the shuttle and paused to look around. Coruscant was nothing like Naboo. Not a speck of green in sight, no signs of nature, just duracrete and grays upon grays as far as the eye could see. And it was loud, just like Fox said it was, with the revving engines and blasting horns from speeders breezing by above your head.

You checked your wrist chrono, seeing that you had two hours until you were due to meet Fox at 79’s. Next, you pulled a datapad out of your bag that contained a map of the planet’s surface and studied how to get from your current position to the hotel you booked for your stay. The hotel was only a couple of blocks from the bar – not that you had certain expectations for this trip or anything, you thought it would be easier to stay nearby.

All in all, it took one hour and fifty minutes to get from the shuttle landing pad to the hotel to drop off your things, and then another eight to get from the hotel to 79’s. In your rush and panic as you navigated Coruscant’s taxi and public transportation systems, you didn’t have time to be too nervous about meeting Fox in person for the first time. But as you walked up to the entrance of the bar with its painfully bright neon signs and the muffled music spilling out from inside, it all hit you.

You took off to a strange planet by yourself to see a man you only knew through messages. If your grandmother had her way she would have stopped you from going. What if he didn’t like you after the trip … what if you didn’t like him? What if something went wrong?

But then you saw him standing by the entrance to the bar, recognizing him by his red-painted armor and the gray hairs above his ears and the thick curls on top of his head that you admired so much. He was surveying the area with a soldier’s laser-sharp focus, perhaps looking for your arrival, and he clutched a small bouquet of colorful flowers to his chest. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a smile, the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Your worries seemed to matter less as you broke into a brisk jog to meet him.

“Fox?” you asked, smiling yourself.

“Indeed,” he responded before he handed the flowers to you. “I- uh- I got you these.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you said. No one had ever gotten you flowers before; in the past it didn’t seem like anything to miss out on, but now that you held a bouquet in your arms, you felt special. Treasured, even.

“And, uh, as for the venue ….” Fox’s voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder at the bar’s garishly bright neon signs.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, trying to be reassuring.

“I’m not allowed in most places, even when I’m off-duty … and I would have liked to take you somewhere nicer ….” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. You could hear in his voice just how nervous he was.

“Because … well … you’re special to me. In a way no one else in my life is.”

You smiled at him again, and then wasted no time in leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek. It felt right to kiss him like that, but when you pulled back and saw him staring at you in shock and awe, you worried that it was too much too soon.

“C-can I …” he stammered. You nodded, and he angled his face so he could return the gesture. His lips were surprisingly soft against the skin of your cheek, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel or taste like on your own lips.

There would be time for that later, you reminded yourself, if all went well.

“Does this place have food?” you ask him.

“Yes.”

“Drinks?”

“Well it is a bar … they have non-alcoholic drinks too, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Then it’s got everything I need. I don’t know what I would do with myself at a fancy restaurant anyway.”

“I imagine a restaurant would be quieter and allow for some proper conversation … but Thorn told me about a spot inside where we’ll be able to talk and hear each other without having to shout over the music.” Fox added.

“Sounds perfect,” you said with a smile.

Fox offered his arm to you and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep just above his elbow so he could lead you into the bar. Throughout the evening any time your eyes met his you felt safe, like you were the only person in the universe, and that you needed to figure out a way to make regular visits to Coruscant.

No matter what, you would always be glad you got Fox as a pen pal, and that you came to visit him. Especially since it was more fun to rant and rave about the newest episode of the holodrama in person.

#reader insert isn't my forte so I hope this is okay XD #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars #my writing

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ask-the-crimson-king · 4 years

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Tales from D&D: The Campfire Song Song

[It is I, your friendly neighborhood Hermit back with another tale from D&D. And this one is... Certainly a saga. LONG POST AHOY.

IT IS ONCE AGAIN FROM MY CURSE OF STRAHD CAMPAIGN! The characters, in brief, are:

AETERNUS -- Goliath wild soul barbarian, played more like a golem than a goliath. Stoic, remembers almost nothing of his past. ARAZEL -- Blood angel (aasimar x tiefling hybrid) bard, has a patron because he used to be a Warlock and the player wanted to keep the patron. Very much a Bard. Has tamed a fucking dire wolf who is now named Boris. He is a good boy. LEON -- Human time domain cleric, worships a god of time called Tempus. Old retired soldier sent out into the world because his god has plans for him. CALEB -- Vampire desperado gunslinger, a vampire hunter who wants revenge against the creatures who turned him and killed his family.

In the last session, the players had made it to the Old Bonegrinder and met the three hags living there. Thanks to a Fifth Nat 1, the hags became hostile because Arazel mentioned how he had a pet dire wolf and the hags thought he was sent by Strahd.

I told them at the beginning of this one, “If you can talk your way out of this encounter, I’ll let you level up right now instead of waiting for Friday.”

What the fuck happens right after I say that?

Arazel fucking crits on persuasion and the party is now LEVEL FOUR! HURRAY!

Caleb is dealing with the two sisters upstairs, his gun is mentioned, and then Arazel’s player says, and I quote,

Arazel had also purchased a pastry, and Aeternus ends up charging upstairs and Arazel turns to him and says, "Hey Pebbles, eat this okay?" Aeternus made the con save, so instead of having weird dream visions, he instead felt this weird sense of nostalgia that he cant place his finger on. Seeing the cakes were safe, the rest of the party all pay for a cake themselves and they all. fail. the save.

So they get to fall into a pleasant, dreamlike state, for 1d4+4 hours... and OF COURSE I roll a 4. So eight hours of them being in this trance. Arazel, Leon, and Caleb, all conked the hell out. Which meant Aeternus was alone with this Night Hag who was now cackling.

And so he asked the witch what was in the cakes, and she simply said “some very rare and exotic ingredients. it is an acquired taste.” aeternus then took many hints, scooped everyone up, and left with Ismark (Kolyana and Ireena were waiting outside in a cart, not trusting that place one bit, but Ismark went in to help guard the party and keep an eye on Caleb.)

They run back to the cart and Kolyana is asking what happened. Aeternus explains the situation with the cakes, and Kolyana then facepalms. He says,

"You didn't eat any, did you?" "I did, why?" "Those are dream cakes. they're popular in Vallaki -- you'll see why." "I do not dream." "Everyone dreams, my boy. daydreams, plans for the future, or-" "I have nothing to dream about." The cart goes quiet before Ismark speaks up. "What do you mean?" Aeternus then says, "I remember nothing but war from my past." "A miserable existence, then." "Heh, makes you sound like a barovian," Kolyana says with a snicker. "We're all miserable bastards."

More silence.

"You really don't remember anything?" Ismark then asks. "Nothing but war." Aeternus shakes his head. "How old are you?" "... I do not know. I have been wandering for some time, but I know I am quite old." "I don’t remember any wars in our recent history. You don’t seem to be old enough for any of those." "Definitely not," Kolyana agrees. The cart is silent, and Aeternus goes quiet.

Hours pass, and the cart is pulled off to the side of the road. Ireena and Valerie, a Vistana woman they had met, (who owned the cart), go off to build a fire, while the rest stay back in order to wait for the others to come out of their trances.

When they do awaken, the world is darker. More grim, more miserable. The mists seem to cling to them, and they long to be back in their dreams.

Arazel awakes with a start, drawing out his magic string and wrapping it around Leon's neck while a thin knife hovers at Caleb's throat. Kolyana, Ismark, and Aeternus all stand to try and apprehend him as he asks, "What the HELL happened to me?" "You were dreaming," Aeternus tells him. "We didn’t do anything to you." "Put the weapons away, you're around friends here," Ismark says, his sword half out of its sheath. Slowly, Arazel backs down, checking his wings to see if any feathers are out of place. Boris looks up at him expectantly, and Arazel takes him to the fire as the rest of the party files out of the cart.

They all go and head down to the fireplace, and enjoy a nice thick stew. Some of the vegetables are freshly picked from the lands around them, although they are thick mountain-dwelling plants. They are a bit higher up in elevation, though more surrounded by foothills instead of mountains.

They enjoy their dinner and Kolyana asks them what they saw in their visions. Leon goes first, recalling his home. recalling the people he loved, the community fostered, everything. It felt warm. It felt safe. But that wasn't here anymore. Kolyana gave him a small reassuring pat on the shoulder before Arazel spoke up.

"I saw my mother." "Your mother?" Aeternus asks. "Okay, well, here's the thing. My mother was this holy angel, and my father was a damned and hated tiefling. And my father kinda dipped on me when i was younger. My mother served a very holy god who didn't want to be sullied with such a sinful abomination," he then gestures to himself, "and so my mum had to leave me." "Wait, wait, your mom left you because her god said so?" Caleb asks. "Well yeah but I mean I get it. if she didn't then she would've lost her powers, and-" "That’s pretty selfish of her." Caleb shrugs. "sorry, man." "Not really. I’m sure any parent would do that." "I can tell you, as a father myself, I would never do that to my children. No matter who the god was. I'm sorry you had to go through that," Kolyana tells him, giving Arazel a meaningful look.

“And what about you, vampire?” the old man asks. “What did you see?”

"I saw my home. I saw the old homestead. I saw my parents, and my siblings. It was nice." Before Kolyana responds, a conspiracy of ravens descends from the sky. one lands on each of Aeternus' shoulders, cawing. The three Barovians all gasp.

"What fantastic luck," Kolyana mutters. Arazel is tempted to have Boris pounce on them, but Kolyana quickly says "DO NOT ATTACK THEM! That would bring nothing but doom and misfortune. Ravens are symbols of good luck, not evil. At least not here."

Arazel shrugs, and tosses a piece of his stew at them. They caw and hop off the giant's shoulders, peck at the food, then flutter off into the night. The party all decides to settle in for the night, and this comes my FAVORITE fucking part of the session;

Dream Chats with Strahd!

(Yes I’m bending the lore a bit but it’s for the rule of cool okay)

I bring each of the players into the Special Corner (Discord call, we have a D&D voice chat and then Special Corner for 1-on-1 with the DM) one by one.

First in was Arazel.

Arazel feels the presence of his patron. He feels a warm, golden glow about him, even if he cannot visualize Sanguinius himself. He soon finds himself within a hall. It seems to be that of a cathedral. Polished stone, nearly gleaming, is under his feet. But everything feels... a bit fuzzed out. Just barely out of focus. He sees a lectern at the end of this great hall, with, what 40k fans would recognize, as the BA symbol, inscribed into it.

And then he hears a very familiar voice, and sees a very familiar figure walk out from behind a pillar.

Familiar dark clothing, familiar face, familiar dark eyes.

It is Strahd von Zarovich, and he has come for a chat.

And he doesnt greet arazel with hostility. He says that he is impressed with this place of worship, and that he knows very little about Arazel’s patron. But he would love to learn more about him, and about Arazel himself. Arazel asks “why are you here?”

Strahd takes a sip from his glass before he says, “You and your compatriots all fascinate me. So I want to learn just a little more about you. How you think, what your morality is." He shrugs, and then explains that he does not have too much time to speak. An invitation will be given -- soon, though he does not know when -- and tells him it is within Arazel’s best interests to accept it. He wants to be able to have an open, honest chat with him and his friends.

He also asks that he does not discuss this meeting with anyone. A measure of trust. Arazel agrees, and Strahd disappears.

Next up, Caleb.

Caleb is dreaming of his homestead. He feels grass beneath his feet, but none of his family is here. Everything around him feels fuzzy, blurry. The only crisp image is of the homestead itself. Strahd appears to him as well, coming out of the homestead, and says similar things to what he told Arazel, namely the reason for his arrival and his interest in him and his friends. However, he also remarks on how similar the two of them are, referring to their shared vampiric nature. Caleb says,

"Actually we're probably very different. I think we became who we are through very different ways."

Strahd agrees, but he offers a solution to Caleb's little bloodthirst-issue, (which luckily has been able to be curbed thanks to Leon being generous), and potentially knowledge about his abilities. Caleb recently gained the ability to be able to shift into bat form, and he thinks he may have other skills locked away.

An invitation is mentioned, along with the same condition. He cannot tell anyone of this meeting.

Caleb, begrudgingly, agrees. Strahd vanishes once more. Interestingly, Strahd does not mention how one of Caleb’s current goals is to go into van Richten’s tower to find the old hunter in order to find a way to kill Strahd.

But we’ll get to that.

Then we go to Leon.

Leon appears within an old library. The books around him are nothing more than vague shapes, and there is a musty smell from the bookshelves. Ahead of him is a strange device, a piece of machinery made of many different concentric rings, which he realizes must represent the different planes of reality. It slowly moves, casting around shadows as an unknown light source dances around the room. This is a representation of how Tempus views reality and its many potential timelines, he realizes. Just a very, very simple model, but it resembles the one from his own church.

Enter Strahd, a warm smile on his face.

“I’ve been waiting to speak with you for some time. You and I have much to discuss.”

Leon asks why he is here, and Strahd explains what he had told Caleb and Arazel -- though he also adds he wants to learn a little more about him, here and now. He wants to also extend the offer for Leon to learn more about Strahd himself in a sort of private talk, and expresses interest in learning more about Tempus and Leon's nature and relationship. He asks Leon to tell him a few things, and Leon agrees to tell him a bit about his past -- his life as a soldier, the village he had settled within, how he found Tempus, that sort of stuff.

Then Leon cuts right to the point, saying, "Why are you really asking me this? I don’t like to associate with bad people."

"Well I wouldn’t call myself bad. I have made my mistakes, and I am no saint, but I’m not a horrible person." Strahd shrugs. "I ask because I’m fascinated by you. By all of you, honestly. You're quite the interesting little crew."

He mentions the invitation, but also gives a different message.

"I know Caleb is going to be going to van Richten's tower. I want you to stay behind in Vallaki when he does. I will send my invitation then. Our conversation will be a little more... private, for lack of a better term, then the one I shall have with all of you."

He gives the same terms -- that Leon cannot tell anyone of this meeting -- which Leon agrees to, and Strahd disappears once more.

Last but not least...

Aeternus.

Aeternus doesn't dream, but his mind does come to a daydreaming-state. He comes to one of the few scenes he remembers. A field, with the rubble of a broken house nearby. Nothing else is clear, or even blurred. It feels like he’s standing on the edge of a vast void.

Strahd appears once more, commenting on how grim this place was. Aeternus is on edge at the appearance of the vampire, but simply replies, "this is all I can remember."

"Oh, I know. All you remember is warfare. But even then, of no clear battle. Just fragments of death and misery. A shame, really." Strahd sighs. "I know of a way for you to begin remembering all you had lost. My libraries may hold some of the answers you seek, as do I."

Aeternus is quiet. Before he speaks, strahd smiles.

"Petting that wolf made you remember something, didn't it? And the cake you ate? You remember something about a raven, too."

Aeternus is caught way off guard. Strahd has, somehow (rule of cool and plot reasons) gotten into his head. He goes on guard, but Strahd puts his hands up.

"I can offer answers. I will be sending an invitation, soon. I do not know when. But I need to be able to trust you. Tell no one of this encounter."

"How can i be able to trust you?" Aeternus responds with a grunt. One hand is on his axe. Strahd chuckles. "Caleb wants to go to van Richten's tower. Go with him. There is something waiting for you there."

And then he disappears, and that is where the session ended.

#very long post #sorry about that #D&D stories #tales from D&D #moonclaws dm bullshit #i need to come up with a D&D tag #D&D

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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910: The Final Sacrifice

I grew up in Calgary, which means that the riff about Edmonton being kind of like hell but less so is at least six times funnier than it would be otherwise. My sister did her IT degree at the same school (the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology) as the people in this movie were taking their film classes. I’ve probably been to places where they shot scenes and didn’t know it… all of which makes The Final Sacrifice particularly dear to my heart, even by MSTie standards.

Seven years ago, young Troy’s father was chased down and murdered by armed luchadors in the woods somewhere. Now, grown into a man of at least twelve, Troy is determined to find the killers. In an attic he discovers a mysterious map and a bunch of information about the ‘Ziox’, but before he can puzzle it out the luchadors attack! Troy escapes by climbing into a truck driven by Canada’s second-greatest hero (after Wolverine), the one, the only Zap Rowsdower. Together, the two of them set out to conquer Zap Rowsdower’s car trouble and uncover the secret of the Ziox, a lost civilization that once ruled the land of Fish Creek Provincial Park!

First, some Canadiana. The Lemon Mine is a legendary lost gold deposit supposedly found by prospector John Lemon. Also, Maple Syrup Rustling is a thing that goes on in Canada. Over the winter of 2011-2012, nearly three thousand tonnes of it were stolen from the Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers, one barrel at a time. Canadians regard this in the same way as other countries might think of big art or bank heists, with the perpetrators becoming folk-culture heroes. Also also, Brain Guy was wrong. The worst thing ever to come out of Canada is, hands down, our geese, which attack livestock, destroy aircraft, and don’t even taste good. They are the worst of all birds and we apologize.

Second, some racism. According to the movie, the Ziox were a lost civilization who lived in Southern Alberta eleventy thousand years ago, “way before the Indians” and built cities of gold in the middle of the prairie. Since Sartoris and Zap Rowsdower, among others, are descendants of these people it appears they were supposed to be white. Because there’s no way anybody who wasn’t white could have built huge cities full of golden pyramids, right? It’s not like there were entire cultures in the Americas who were known for exactly that!

Those peoples didn’t live in southern Alberta, though, for the excellent reason that there’s nothing here. This area is miles upon miles of rolling grassland, from the foot of the mountains all the way to Manitoba, with not much in it but buffalo and buffalo by-products. There’s some sandstone you can build quaint town halls with, but not pyramids that will last thousands of years. The wildlife aren’t suitable for domestication. There’s no meaningful amount of gold. There weren’t even very many trees until Europeans started planting them as windbreaks. For as long as there’s an archaeological record, the indigenous peoples around here have been nomadic hunters. Permanent settlements couldn’t get started until the railway arrived to bring in supplies.

On to the movie. When you want to tell a big story but have only a little budget, one popular way to do it is by having most of your adventure happen in the middle of nowhere so you can save your money to make a big impression in only a few key scenes. Take, for example, The Princess Bride, which is mostly just a few people in the wilderness but put enough into the palace sequences to make us believe we were in a Renaissance-era world. The Final Sacrifice is a stellar example of a film that’s too damn cheap to even get away with that. They wanted demonic idols and spectacular caverns and an ancient city rising from the earth but all they got is a bunch of toothpick models and papier-mache, almost as pathetic as the dinosaur puppets in Future War.

The nail in the coffin is that The Final Sacrifice can’t even do wilderness very well. The outdoor scenes are in very open scrub, which are rather desolate but don't give the impression of somewhere miles from civilization. It looks, like I already observed, a lot like Fish Creek Park, which is about a twenty-minute walk from where I grew up and sees a steady stream of picnickers and brownie troops all summer. Any given shot in The Final Sacrifice looks like if you moved the camera three inches to one side you’d see a bunch of little kids making s’mores.

I’m pretty sure the writers originally had something much grander in mind, and had to tone it down a lot to get it to the screen with the money they had – because when you think about it, it’s obvious that The Final Sacrifice is a story about the lost continent of Atlantis. You’ve got an ancient advanced civilization that was punished for its hubris and blasphemy by sinking, and which promises untold power and wealth to whoever can find its remains. That’s a tale that ought to span continents, with adventurous archaeologists and deserted isles and plane crashes and such things… but all anybody had was a small town and some back woods a few hours’ drive out of Calgary, so they had to make do. The result feels like a story trying to be bigger than it is, as if the events in the movie only think they ought to have world-shaking implications but actually don’t matter to anyone.

Adding to the impression that there’s something missing from this movie, the story depends an awful lot on some very odd coincidences. I can buy that Troy lives only a couple hours’ drive from the site of the Ziox city – that’s where his father lived and worked, and since Troy’s aunt didn’t know about the cultists there was no reason for her to move. But then the truck he climbs into just happens to belong to a former member of the cult? Zap Rowsdower is supposed to be an alcoholic drifter who just wants to get away and forget, so why the heck is he still in the area? Canada is big. Go to Halifax. Go to Resolute Bay. Hell, leave the country. Why stick around within a few miles of the evil cult that threw you out?

Then there’s Pipper. He’s been hiding from the cult for years, he says, but he’s doing it in a cabin about ten meters (that's thirty-five feet for the Americans in the audience) from the site of the idol! That might make sense if he were guarding it, but he doesn’t know it’s nearby and professes to believe it’s just a legend. So what is he doing there? Movie audiences can handle magic and aliens and all kinds of other ridiculous things, but too many coincidences will kill suspension of disbelief in a way the overtly fantastical never can.

When you want to tell a big story in your movie, it’s also helpful if the audience knows what the characters want and what will happen if they fail. On the first count, I guess The Final Sacrifice does okay. We do know that Troy wants to find out why his father died and what’s up with all this stuff he left behind, and Zap Rowsdower just wants to get away from this distasteful part of his past but is sucked back into it by Troy whether he likes it or not. On what will happen if they fail, however, the film is much less clear. Sartoris talks about raising an army of invincible warriors and conquering the world, but it’s not clear how making a sacrifice to the idol in the woods will bring that about. Does Sartoris believe the city will arise full of undead soldiers or something? The only version of the associated legends we get comes from Pipper, who says nothing about any such thing. We’re obviously meant to believe that at least some of the population escaped the sinking, since they had to go give rise to descendants like Zap Rowsdower and the luchadors.

The ending is clearly supposed to be ironic, as it is Sartoris’ death that satisfies the idol and raises the city from the ground. This would have been more effective if Sartoris himself had lived long enough to appreciate the irony, but that much works well enough. The rest of the events at the end of the film just leave way too many questions. What happened to all the luchadors? They pull off their masks and walk into the light and out of the movie. Why did Zap Rowsdower’s tattoo disappear? Does Sartoris actually have some kind of magical powers, since he seems able to telepathically contact Zap Roswdower in his sleep? Did the city actually blast off into space, possibly taking the luchadors with it? Because there are definitely shots that make it look like that’s happening. What’s going on there?

Honestly, that’s not a bad explanation. Throwing some Erich Von Daniken, Pumaman or Hangar 18 bullshit into this would actually have made way more sense. Wow, is that ever sad.

It’s easy to be really hard on The Final Sacrifice because it is so very cheap, but on the other hand it was literally made by first-year students at a polytechnic not known for producing filmmakers. When you think of it that way, it actually looks surprisingly like a real movie… but still not enough that it should ever have been released into the wild. The fact that Tjardus Greidanus’ imagination was so much bigger than his budget makes it seem like he had some honest potential. He’s still making both narrative and documentary films, and I’m kind of interested to see some of them.

#mst3k #reviews #the final sacrifice #90s

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