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vermin-disciple · 2 years

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I posted 5,003 times in 2021

133 posts created (3%)

4870 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 36.6 posts.

I added 14,471 tags in 2021

#deja queue - 4389 posts

#star trek - 2391 posts

#fanart - 2020 posts

#ds9 - 1745 posts

#cats - 993 posts

#garak - 840 posts

#bashir - 663 posts

#garashir - 651 posts

#cute animals - 514 posts

#dogs - 265 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#a cottontop tamarin i bought from a conservation group that had a stall at the annual physical anthropology conference

My Top Posts in 2021

I woke up this morning with a truly cursed plot bunny in my head, which proceeded to gnaw on my brain while I was repeatedly hitting the snooze button on my alarm. It was Sex Pollen fic, of the Fuck or Die variety, and in this case it’s Garak and O’Brien who are stranded on a planet together, and O’Brien is the one who gets blasted with the sex pollen (because that is pretty much his lot in life).

And Garak is being annoyingly pragmatic about the whole thing, so he’s just like, ‘Well you’re going to die otherwise and I’ve definitely had sex with worse people in worse circumstances before in the line of duty.’

But O’Brien, who is obviously very perturbed about the whole thing, is like, ‘I really don’t want to cheat on my wife (even though she will probably be quite understanding about it given the circumstances), especially not with you, who I don’t particularly like, and on top of that my best friend is in love with you, which just makes this whole thing even more awkward.’

And then Garak is like, ‘Wait, what do you mean your best friend is in love with me?’

And O’Brien is just rolling his eyes like, ‘How do you not know this already Mr. Spy Man? I have heard like 10 drunken monologues on this subject.’

(Then some very awkward sex ensues, everyone involved is very embarrassed, but at least no one dies. And after they’re rescued Bashir finds himself desperately torn between Wanting To Know and NOT Wanting To Know all the gory details.)

Have not yet decided if this is something I actually want to write or something I should just release into the wild.

134 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 18:27:19 GMT

Currently trying to reassure myself that it is actually perfectly fine if the plot portion of this Star Trek fic only makes as much sense as the plot of your average Star Trek episode.

135 notes • Posted 2021-02-25 04:22:31 GMT

Deleted lines from the script of S03E07 Civil Defense:

236 notes • Posted 2021-01-20 23:34:59 GMT

DS9 Deleted Scene: S06E07

Found this gem of a deleted scene in the script for You Are Cordially Invited on st-minutiae.com:

[Kira and Dax] round a corner and stop short at the sight of...

BASHIR

who's filling the Corridor outside his quarters with JUNK from around the galaxy. He's adding another armload of material to the growing mound when he sees Dax and Kira.

BASHIR: Can you believe this? I've spent four days doing nothing but cleaning trash out of my quarters and I'm still not finished.

They peer at the odds and ends piled on the deck.

DAX: Who was staying in your quarters?

BASHIR: I don't know, but whoever he was, he lived like a pig.

KIRA: It was Weyoun.

BASHIR (surprised): Weyoun? The Vorta?

KIRA (nods): I always knew he was a bit of a packrat. I'd see him collecting little bits of junk from all over the station and taking them back to his quarters to--

BASHIR: My quarters.

KIRA: Taking them back to your quarters to study them.

DAX (examining the trash): He wasn't very discriminating about what he studied.

BASHIR: You should've seen the stuff I've already thrown out. Shoes, coasters, bits of string, broken bottles, power cells, picture frames, chair legs -- and there's still no end in sight.

NOG'S VOICE: Excuse me, sirs.

They turn to see NOG coming down the Corridor pushing a cart filled with his own pile of trash, which is more foul and disgusting than Bashir's.

DAX: Cleaning out your quarters too?

NOG: Yes, sir.

BASHIR (reacts to the smell): At least Weyoun was sanitary. Who was staying in yours?

NOG (quietly furious): Jake. Sisko.

Nog continues on his way with a murderous expression, much to the others' amusement.

680 notes • Posted 2021-04-03 17:42:09 GMT

Free Anthropology Textbooks

Just FYI, there are two peer-reviewed, open access anthropology textbooks sponsored by the American Anthropological Association that are available for free to read online and download:

Cultural: Perspectives: An Open Invitation to Cultural Anthropology (2nd edition)

Biological: Explorations: An Open Invitation To Biological Anthropology

1133 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 17:19:58 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #about me #tumblr

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autieami-blog · 6 years

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Matters of Faith: Chapter 1 (a DS9 fic)

Yoooo I’m posting the first chapter (1,700 words) of a new fic below--

It takes place during the Dominion occupation of DS9. It follows a Vorta who comes to Bajor as a Dominion representative. Themes are religion, free will, ethics, found families, Kira being sarcastic, Odo being grumpy, the Vorta being very confused, cute little kids, and emotional turmoil.

Chapter 1 of like, 5 or 6 total probably?

Matters of Faith, chapter 1: The Dominion Walks Into a Bar

The bar was dimly lit. It always was, these days. Supposedly to save money on lighting costs, but Kira suspected that the real reason Quark kept the place so dark was so that he didn’t have to see the bragging, swaggering Cardassians and the sulking Jem’Hadar littering the tables that had been so recently filled by laughing Bajorans, talkative Humans, Andorians and Bolians trading jokes and playing Dabbo.

Or perhaps she was injecting too much of her own mood into it, and Quark was just staying true to his miserly ways. Either way, she didn’t mind the shadows obscuring the ugly faces of the occupying force.

“Something on your mind, Major?” a gravelly voice said, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to smile at Odo, sitting next to her at the bar.

“I’ll give you three guesses what,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

“Mmm. The color of the decorations for next year’s Gratitude Festival on Bajor?” he deadpanned.

Kira snorted with laughter. A Jem’Hadar at a nearby table gave her a disapproving glare, and her smile faded.

“I wonder if we’ll have one,” she said quietly.

Odo wrinkled his brow. “Why wouldn’t there be one? Has the Dominion shown any sign of opposing it? I can talk to Weyoun if so.”

“Not yet,” she shook her head, earring jangling. “But you know how it is with takeovers. The Cardassians made sure one of their top priorities was cutting down on religious observances. You can’t have a slave thinking anything more than the day’s labor exists. They might start thinking there are more important things than bowing down to their scaly masters,” she replied bitterly.

Odo grunted and turned to look at the entrance.

A Vorta stood in the doorway, tailed by a group of hulking Jem’Hadar. The Vorta, who looked ludicrously small next to the soldiers, looked around the room until her gaze fell on Odo and Kira with a benevolent smile.

“Oh, joy. Another visitor come to lick your boots,” Kira said, rolling her eyes. “I think an important duty has just come up for me on the other side of the station.”

Odo raised an eyebrow. “I thought you found watching it amusing.”

“Oh, I do, but the entertainment value doesn’t make up for the sickening factor.”

Kira started to push back her chair and leave, but the Vorta had already waved her attendant Jem’Hadar off to another table and was approaching them, hands clasped behind her back.

Odo cast a beseeching glance at Kira, who sighed in defeat and remained sitting, as the Vorta bowed her head in greeting.

“Hello Constable, Major. Might I have the honor of joining you?”

“Pull up a chair and join the party,” Kira said in a tone that sounded like an invitation to a funeral.

“Thank you so much,” the Vorta said, seating herself carefully on a stool beside them.

A low growl came from the table where the newly arrived Jem’Hadar sat. A stocky soldier glared at the three of them, before turning his head away with a sneer.

The Vorta gave a tinkling laugh. “I do apologize for Lorin’Lar. I’m afraid he disapproves of my talking to the False Founder. He disapproves of most things, though, so it’s nothing personal.”

“How reassuring,” Kira said sarcastically.

The Vorta smiled beatifically. Kira wondered if oblivion to insult was programmed into the Vortan genetic code, or if it was just a cultivated talent.

Odo steepled his fingers and gave the Vorta the sternly unamused look he reserved for suspects and people he disliked. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

“What can I get you?” Quark interrupted as he came up to them and leaned on the bar with an elbow.

The Vorta tilted her head in thought. “Hmm. Do you have anything with a good texture?” she asked.

Quark grinned, showing off a row of crooked, pointy teeth. “I have just the thing. Renarian whisky. As smooth on the tongue as a lie.” He filled a glass from behind the counter with a bottle of treacly greenish liquid, and set in on the bar with a flourish before moving off to serve another group of customers.

“Vorta can’t taste much, so we mainly go in for interesting textures,” the Vorta said by way of explanation as she took a careful sip. “You should try Icthian Swampbrew sometime. It feels just like you’re drinking fur.”

Kira suppressed a shudder.

The Vorta took another sip of her glass, then placed it on the bar and clapped her hands together. “So! Who I am and why I’m here.”

Odo crossed his arms “I’m waiting.”

“My name is Dorriv. I have the honor to be a Dominion Representative to the wonderful planet of Bajor. After a brief stop at this station, I’ll be heading planetside to greet our new allies, and to oversee some minor technological manufacturing issues that have arisen because of the Federation’s lack of support. While I’m on the station, I could hardly pass up the opportunity to meet you, Odo.”

“What a surprise,” Kira muttered under her breath.

“Sarcasm, I assume, Major.” Dorriv chuckled. “You forget that we Vorta have even better hearing than your Ferengi.”

“They’re not ‘our’ Ferengi” Odo said with irritation.

“And thank goodness for that!” Quark called from the other side of the room where he was polishing a tabletop.

Kira wondered, silently this time, why two of the most annoying species had been given such good hearing.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Dorriv continued. “I’ve never had the opportunity to meet a Founder, having been cloned in the Alpha Quadrant, so I’m not going to miss the opportunity to meet one now, even if he is misguided.”

“You’ve met him. Congratulation,” Odo said.

“Thank you!” Dorriv beamed. “I wanted to ask you about your side of the story. I’m trying to learn more about my faith and deepen my understanding of the Founders, so I thought that perhaps you could explain why you’ve decided to forsake the truth.”

“What, the Dominion hasn’t come up with some propaganda-soaked explanation for that yet?” Kira said with a laugh as Odo snorted.

“Of course they have,” Dorriv said. “You’ve been sadly led astray by the devious and hurtful solids, and it’s proof of just how amoral and wicked the enemies of the Dominion are that they could corrupt even a lonely Founder. But you will in time, inevitably, come to see the goodness and superiority of the Dominion and rejoin the fold.”

Kira grinned wickedly. “Poor Odo. I never knew how much we evil solids had corrupted you.”

“I’ve hardly been brainwashed,” Odo growled.

“Of course not, of course not” Dorriv said, sounding like she was reassuring a child. “And so I would like to hear your side of the story.”

“So you can better understand what went wrong?” Kira asked innocently.

“Exactly,” Dorriv replied.

Odo gave the jerk of his head that was his equivalent of rolling his eyes. “Do you believe the Founders always speak the truth?”

“Of course,” she nodded immediately.

“Did the Founders tell you that all Founders were infallible?” he continued.

Dorriv was slower to reply this time.

“Founders may, on rare occasion, be misled. That has been proven by yourself.” she finally said.

“Did they tell you all Founders were infallible?” he pressed.

The Vorta twisted her glass nervously in her hands. “I was cloned in this quadrant. I only know the new rules,” she said defensively.

Odo slammed his hands on the bar. Kira blinked and Dorriv jumped in her seat. At the tables around them, startled patrons looked up briefly, then slowly returned to their drinks and conversations.

“Did the Founders,” Odo growled, his voice filled with contempt as he leaned forward and stared at the Vorta, a single strand of hair falling in front of the dark shadows around his unblinking eyes, “ever tell the Vorta that all Founders were infallible.”

Dorriv squirmed in her seat like a fugitive being grilled. Kira almost—almost—felt sorry for her.

“Yes,” Dorriv finally whispered.

“So they lied to you,” Odo said.

Dorriv started to protest, to make excuses, but Odo cut her off.

“So they lied,” he said.

Dorriv closed her eyes.

“Yes,” she said flatly.

Odo started to speak, when a heavy hand clamped on his shoulder. Turning, he stared into the craggy face of a Jem’Hadar.

“You will leave the Vorta alone, false god,” Lorin’Lar snarled.

“I thought you jarheads were supposed to worship the Founders,” Kira snapped, dark eyes flashing.

“It’s quite alright, Lorin’Lar,” Dorriv spoke up. “You may leave us.”

The Jem’Hadar still glared at Odo, without moving.

“Lorin’Lar!” Dorriv said, frowning sternly. “You will leave.”

The soldier turned and stomped off, heavy feet banging against the floor.

Dorriv sighed. “My apologies. I’m still trying to housetrain that one.” Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she took another sip from her glass, but her gaze was steady again.

Odo grunted. “This conversation has gone on long enough. I have duties to return to. Good day, Major. Dorriv,” he said, saying the Vorta’s name like an insult.

Kira lingered behind as she watched him leave step into the light of the Promenade and walk out of sight.

She turned to Dorriv with an incredulous smile. “You sure don’t act as worshipful as the other Vorta.”

Dorriv frowned. “I know. I’ve been watching the Founder when the others talk to him, and he always seems so uncomfortable. I thought addressing him more casually might make him feel more comfortable. Do you think I went too far? I hope I didn’t offend him. Should I apologize?” she said, wringing her fingers and looking at Kira with confused eyes. “Should I-“

Kira held up her hands to cut the Vorta off and shook her head, laughing. “I’m sure Odo preferred it.”

Dorriv sighed in relief.

“But,” Kira continued, her smile hardening, “you’re still a sycophantic little toady who would burn an orphanage if told to. You’re just trying to pretend you’re not. Cut the crap and think about what he said. Do you want to unflinchingly serve gods that lied to you?” Kira pushed her stool back and walked out without looking back.

The Vorta stared after her for a minute with thoughtful eyes. Finally, she picked up her drink, swirled it lazily, and finished it.

#ds9 #writing #star trek #fanfic #vorta #dominion #founders #odo #kira #jemhadar #i hope its good i honestly have no idea #matters of faith #fic

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defectivevorta-and-changeling · 6 years

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Type Matchup [closed starter]

Weyoun 6 stuck out like a sore thumb. While the station was full of different Pokemon, different types, they were mainly populated with Grass, Fire, and Normal types. There were exceptions of course, like the Bisharp Captain Sisko, and Gardevoir Jadzia Dax, but generally speaking their typings were the minority. Weyoun was an Espeon. A proud Espeon who served the Domininon loyally, until his sixth clone. It was only thanks to Odo that he had even escaped with his life.

Now, he was the only Espeon on the station. The scar at the base of his right ear was a telltale sign of who he once was. Who he once served. Weyoun could sense how the Bajorans looked at him, how the Starfleet officers looked at him. He knew they hated him and feared him, because of the rest of his line. He tried not to let it bother him. After all, he could easily defend himself, as long as they weren’t a Dark type.

That was why, when he sensed a Dark type watching him, he felt his fur stand on end. He looked around, trying to find the other Pokemon, but he couldn’t see any Dark types around. Weyoun felt uneasy, and tried to make his way to Quark’s. While the Meowth’s bar was crowded, it was safer there. No one could attack him there without making a scene... unfortunately, a scene seemed to be just what a Bajoran was looking for. The Fletchinder was clearly intoxicated, as he wrapped a wing around Weyoun’s shoulders to keep him from leaving.

“Well, lookie here, if it isn’t the Dominion’s butcher himself! Which one are you again? Seven or eight?” Weyoun cringed from the harsh tone, looking away from the irate fire bird. “I’m the sixth... and I am not like that anymore.” “Nonsense, everyone knows you Vorta never change. How long do you think you’re going to keep Sisko fooled? Dominion scum.” Weyoun’s attempt to squirm away was thwarted with a quick Ember at his feet, and his anxiety grew. Once again, he looked around, this time searching for help than for a hidden stalker.

#rp thread #themadandthebroken #v: gotta clone em all

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dommesticpet · 7 years

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Where Does All The Time Go?

I sometimes think a good subhead for this Tumblr may be “it’s never too late.” Waiting or holding out hope for something that inflames your erotic imagination seems like an eternity, and when it comes it can be tough to know exactly what to do - but it helps when someone like @Dommestic takes the wheel, like on Sunday. The crystal on a string made a return appearance, giving what appears to be a valuable insight on the value of time.

Getting time to put in to kinky hypnosis fun can be tough - on most days our window of time not spent eating, sleeping, or otherwise working can be tallied in the dozens of minutes. This means times like Sunday afternoon are a treasure, with the swinging crystal bringing about a perfectly nice induction - which is followed by a trigger to pop awake again and watch the crystal swing again, and repeat. I think there may have been five or even six nested inductions but if they’re working, at one point or another concerns with such minutiae. There were a lot of submission suggestions. And dominant suggestions. I was compelled to do a few things, and like on Saturday she made an afternoon out of what was available to her after I awoke from the trance.

The trance itself was a spectacular experience, mostly because my ability to resist was slowly crushed through repetition and whatever forces conspired to keep me from forming coherent thoughts. If you’ve had experiences like this, I’m sure you know the feeling of being told that you will wake up completely aware and back to normal, and that you’re able to hold out and resist, and that’s exactly what you’re thinking as whatever eye fixation object captures your attention and starts to knock out your thoughts like so many Jenga blocks. The first trip down is more or less up to your willingness to sit through the induction - and if you’ve been primed by years of research and reading, you’re going to go down. The second one tests your resolve, as you’re reminded that you’re supposed to resist, and you can hold out, but it’s going to feel oh so nice once you stop resisting after another minute or two or three. By #4 or #5, it felt like I wasn’t able to give to more than a few seconds, an experience by which I could only be vaguely impressed because really able to hold on to that reaction.

As everybody seems to write on such topics, the benefits of putting some time into this kink can’t be overstated. If you’ve got a few minutes, do what you can. If you’ve got 30 minutes, you can do a lot more and it certainly feels like it pays dividends later. It’s one thing to wake up feeling refreshed and normal. It’s another thing to wake up feeling refreshed and normal, and then barely able to focus on something or someone right in front of you because you’re so used to going right back down again and again and again. It’s fun. You should do that.

Because you didn’t ask...

Right now our D/s situation is mostly confined to the bedroom (that’s where the Nova Pro 100, hypnosis chair, and bed live) and occasionally Dommestic’s car. We’ve done a little bit in my office in our house, but not much. This is probably for the best, because if you’ve ever seen it (and none of you have) it’s more distracting than a screaming clown exploding at a child’s Chuck E. Cheese birthday party.

The point being...

The subject of collars comes up on occasion. Usually when I’m compromised through the manual ministrations of Dommestic. (There hasn’t been any hypno interrogation. Or has there? There probably hasn’t.) On Sunday she brought up her desire to have one for me (gulp) and I realized that while this sounds hot, I needed clarification (and she woke up in the middle of the night while I was writing this).

The goal is to get something functional, safe, and used pretty much exclusively when we’re playing - not something to wear 24/7, not something to wear when nobody is watching, just for us as a physical reminder of the D/s roles we’re about to take on when the collar makes an appearance.

I know of one person with a septum piercing. I hear some people make the most out of Petco. I see people wearing leather wrist cuffs at work-adjacent functions and have been too polite to ask about them. I see that there are custom pieces being sold but I have all the aesthetics of a Vorta. (That’s hilarious if you like Deep Space Nine, trust me.) I rarely wear adornments like watches or jewelry of any kind. Unlike the younger me, I dare to bore you.

I assume we’re going for a neck thing, without fur because supposedly that can get gross. So my question to you folks - collars in and for the bedroom. What’s good?

#dommestic life #hypnosis

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