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the-californicationist · 5 months

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he lets you watch

When you overhear Captain Price watching porn in his office, you decide to turn his fantasies into a reality.

Link to AO3

MDNI/18+

TW: femdom, gagging, one slap

You were working late. Again. It was the most frustrating part of any operation: recon review. All the footage collected from all the soldiers’ body cams had to be reviewed and documented. Any dialogue? Syntactically tagged. Any shots fired? Counted. Any kills? Confirmed. You were glad to help the team, but this stage of discovery was dreadfully boring.

Even worse, your new-found crush on your captain was driving you insane. To be honest, you’d had your eye on him for a while. There was something about a man in charge, but it was when this last set of footage came through that you really went off the deep end.

Price had gone with Gaz into a warehouse that was suspected of housing enemy munitions, and the captain had uncovered crates and crates of target-marking spray paint. Huge canisters that attached to the bottoms of planes were all stuck in little rows, lined up and ready to use.

Unfortunately for the captain, one of the canisters was propped open on the top of its box, and when he lifted the lid, he got covered in red dye. You watched it explode, covering the camera, and then when it reconnected, there he was. Shirtless. Down to his boxer briefs. Wiping red dye off of himself with his clothes. Gaz had brought a full kit, so Price was changing out, hoping to stay covert and camouflaged in the clean gear. Couldn’t well be a glowing red dot while trying to escape enemy territory.

His chest was broad and full of dense, dark hair, laying flat like soft fur, untrimmed and natural. His beard was streaked red, and half his face was painted, making him look like an ancient Celt, ready for brutal highland battles and bedding willing lassies. He was frustrated by his accident, so all of his movements were sharp and aggressive, his muscles raging and wrestling against his skin. Then, he moved closer to the camera, and the bulge in his underwear became glaringly apparent.

Hung. Thick. Not so long that it was out of place, but heavy. His cock was imposing, and when he readjusted himself, you could see how dense the muscle really was. You couldn’t help but pause the film, staring, in glorious 4k. You nearly had to wipe the drool from your mouth.

Price looked so confident here. He was always self-assured, but sometimes, when you spoke with him, there was something that he was holding back. Some shyness perhaps, maybe just a reserved nature, but not here. Not in his livid rage, he was like a wounded beast - angry and virile. Full of righteous energy. It made you imagine making him come undone in other ways, in the ways a woman was meant to make a beast like that come apart at the seams. Ripping the constricting threads and freeing the hulking creature looming within.

Now, he was sitting in his office, right next to yours, and he’d started watching footage of his own. Or, at least, you thought that he was watching the cams…until you heard a woman’s salacious moan penetrate the thin wall between you.

Your eyes grew wide, and your breath caught in your chest. You sat in the silence of your office, hearing your heart pound in your ears. You waited to hear it again, just to be sure.

Then, a very quiet,

“You wanna come?”

You let out the breath you’d been holding. It wooshed from you like a wave crashing against miles and miles of sand.

Something snapped, some darkness possessed you. You found yourself standing, walking toward the door to his office. It was so late, everyone else had turned in. Just you and him in the west hall of the base awake. He never slept, it seemed. A night owl like you.

You opened his door without knocking. You’d never done that before, and objectively, it was a truly insane choice.

In your mind, his hand had lingered when he took his cup of coffee from your hands. In your imagination, he’d cocked a sly smile when you made a joke, just between you and him. You thought you’d seen him checking out your ass in the gym. But, you didn’t have any real proof.

Popping open his door was the equivalent of pulling the trigger on a bazooka.

He stood, caught like a fox in a snare, his chair clattering as you came into the room and shut the door behind you quickly.

“Sergeant, uh,” he recovered, “What happened?”

“Captain.”

It was a full sentence. And, it was all you had. You were finished.

The video was still playing. The lurid slapping of skin on skin. Her over-acted moans, his ritual panting. Every few seconds, you counted three, there was another soft,

“You like that, daddy?”

You smiled. He turned red, just like he’d been painted again.

“Sergeant, I was just…”

He paused the movie. Then, with his body, with the hand roughly rubbing down his face, with the palm tightly covering his mouth, he said a million other words. He was still pink with shame, and then he laughed,

“Yeah, no. I was ‘bout to have a wank. Not sure why I was trying to make you believe otherwise, love. Sorry. It’s too loud?”

You smiled wider. His genuine honesty was so smooth and effortless. A thief caught with his hands in the cookie jar, begging you to punish him for it.

“No,” you shook your head, “Just wanted to see what you were watching.”

He didn’t register what you said at first, still staring down at his boots. Then, realization washed over him and he looked up at you, eyes shining, brows arched.

“Oh? That so?”

You nodded,

“Let me see what’s got you up so late.”

The captain rubbed a big, calloused hand across his mouth, smoothing his beard, a bit nervous. Then, he pulled a chair around and motioned for you to sit beside him. You sat. He sat. He hit play.

A woman was straddling a man, both of them hairless and slick like brand new Barbie dolls, spray-tan orange and bleach-blond hair. Americans. She was riding his larger than average dick slowly, deliberately slow, edging him with her pussy. She had a hand around his throat, grasping his jaw tightly, pushing his head back. He was tied to the chair, straining against it, clearly desperate as he writhed beneath her, fighting his restraints.

“Please, baby. Please, let me come?” He begged.

“You wanna come, daddy?” She teased.

“Yeah, can I come?” He begged.

“Ah-ah! I don’t think so…” She teased.

Begging. Teasing. Begging. Teasing. A vicious, uncontrollable cycle of cruelty on her part, always pulling the proverbial carrot farther and farther from his snapping jaws.

You turned to Price who was watching, rapt. He noticed you staring at him. Before he turned to face you, he smiled, sighing,

“Sometimes, when you’re the one barking orders all day, it’d be nice to turn your head off and follow someone else’s for a change.”

“You could follow my orders,” some psychotic part of you spoke.

He gripped the side of the chair, his once-relaxed hands now making the cheap aluminum frame creak and pop.

“What’d you say, Sergeant?”

“You heard me, Captain,” you didn’t know if you should call an exorcist or what. Who was this version of yourself and how quickly was she going to get you court martialed?

“You think you can order me around?”

You leaned in, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath, Cuban cigars leaving earthy notes of vanilla and licorice behind. You whispered,

“I know I can.”

He breathed out, his exhale caressing your lips, threatening to kiss you.

You didn’t move. Not a muscle. You locked eyes with him,

“Sit on your hands, Captain.”

“Sergeant,” he tried to kiss you, but you pulled away quickly.

Part of your body screamed at you, wondering why you’d avoid his advances, but your mind knew what he wanted. He needed to lose control. For a man like Price to lose it, it must be taken from him. Forcibly.

“I said sit... on... them,” you sneered, making yourself larger by standing over him, placing your hands on his thighs to press into his skin.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed, patronizing and light-hearted. It made you want to break him of that habit. Of thinking you were just his sergeant. Just the girl who brought him coffee. Just his gym buddy.

He still hadn’t complied, chuckling to himself. Out of no where, you straight up fucking slapped him. Hard. Right across the jaw. Grabbing him by the collar,

“Sit on your fucking hands, soldier. That’s an order,” you barked.

He sat on his hands, staring at you like you had doused yourself in gasoline and caught yourself on fire, in awe.

You pushed his chair back until you had room to move in front of him, and you began peeling off your clothes, one by one. Your shirt, your cargos, your bra, your panties; they all ended up on the floor, leaving you naked and touching yourself lazily, letting your hands wander.

He moved to lift his hands off his seat, wanting to touch, so you backed away from him. It was a warning: move and this ends. Follow my orders, and I’ll stay. He settled back down.

“You know, I should punish you for slapping me, Sergeant. That’s insubordination,” he chided, trying to regain control of the situation.

You took your panties off the ground and found the wet stain he’d caused, showing it to him coyly, like you’d picked up a pretty shell from the beach. It gleamed in the light of his desk lamp. Then, you walked over to him, swaying your hips, and bent down as if to kiss him.

As he opened his mouth to kiss you back, you pushed your panties into it, past his teeth, clutching at his jaw with the other hand as roughly as you could, knowing you couldn’t hurt him. You shushed his surprised noises, putting a finger to his lip,

“Shh, Captain. That’s enough. You’re not in charge anymore, are you?”

He furrowed his brow as if he would fight back, as if he would remove his hands and teach you a lesson. Then, as he tasted you on his tongue, he realized that you were offering prizes for obedience. He would reap the rewards, if he was willing to play along. His face softened, and he shook his head no.

“Good boy,” you whispered.

You kissed his mouth, awkwardly, since it was full of your wet panties, there was little he could do except experience your kisses. He reacted as if he wanted to kiss you back, and as you moved to kiss his jawline, he moaned.

Price’s moans were rumbling and deep, long and low like a bull elephant’s roar. You wanted to drag that noise out of him again. Your hand found his belt buckle, and you rugged at it, willing it to loosen. As you kissed his neck, you drug down his zipper and freed his cock from the fabric.

The captain was not soft. If anything, he was harder than he should’ve been for a little teasing and some neck kisses. You decided to use that to his disadvantage,

“My, my, my. Someone’s eager…”

You tugged up and down with length in a long, languid massage, feeling how his foreskin slipped over the head and down the shaft, smooth and supple. He was hairy around the root of his cock, just as you’d hoped, and after seeing the video of him covered in paint, you wished you could strip him down and run your fingernails through his chest hair, delicately scratching his skin and peaked nipples.

For now, you spit on his cockhead, using it as lube as you rubbed him. He threw his head back in ecstasy. You removed your hand. He snapped back to attention, staring at you a bit desperate for relief.

You giggled,

“Is this for me, or for her?”

Pointing over your shoulder, you motioned to the paused video. You took your hand away, feigning hurt feelings.

His body arched toward you, missing your touch, and he shook his head, trying to say something.

“For her? How disappointing,” you pouted, playing with the head of his cock with one finger, drawing circles around the edge.

Price was saying something muffled through the fabric of your panties, shaking his head, scooting his chair closer with a quick thrust of his hips, making his cock flag from the jolting movement.

“You know,” you whispered, drawing him in with your quiet tone, “if this was for me, I’d really be looking forward to feeling it inside of me.”

“Mmm. Mm, mm!” He tried to correct you, his shoulders straining as he pulled them forward, struggling against his self-imposed restraint.

“Oh?” You caressed his face, rubbing your hand through his soft beard, feeling the stubble on his chin, “It is for me after all?”

“Mm hm,” he nodded, leaning his cheek into your palm, eyes hooded with relief.

You could tell he was enjoying the game. You were enjoying it, too. You could feel how wet you were, watching him gaze at your shining folds hungry. Impatient.

“In that case…” you straddled him, planting your knees on either side of his hips, trapping his cock between you both. His body felt warm, and his breathing was labored.

You rubbed your wetness up and down his shaft, spreading yourself along his length, making wet little sounds as you smeared him until he was slippery.

Carefully, you moved his head into your eager pussy, your walls pounding for him like a heartbeat. Then, you held his throat with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Do you understand, soldier?”

“Mm, hm,” he nodded, rolling in the ecstasy of your tight cunt.

“Good, boy.”

#captain john price #captain price #john price #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain price x reader #captain price x you #cod

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soaveintermezzo · 29 days

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Viadotto Glenfinnan, West Highland Line a Glenfinnan, Inverness-shire, Scozia.

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c-kiddo · 26 days

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(Follow up on ask) I want to try real hard to hike some part of the highlands, so anywhere up there really that I could get to by train.

And I’m also trying to go into Edinburgh to look around a bit! 🌿💚

(Also no pressure cause that is a big ask, just curious)

ah ok, highlands via train would be like west coast line up to fort william/mallaig, and tbh not super familiar with the areas (except for oban, which you can get a ferry to iona or mull etc from, which mull is vry nice. but check ferry things for that. also if you get off at luss or earlier at balloch you can get boat rides across loch lomond. loch lomond is so <3 i love going into the hills around there, haven't been to the arrochar alps tho which are on the side the train stations are on) Or you can get the train up from glasgow queen street in the inverness direction. i havent been to inverness but dunkeld & birnam on the way is very cute and has rly nice hikes from it (birnam hill!!, the hermitage!!, loch of the lowes). aviemore also has nice hikes going out from it (craigellachie nature reserve, plus steamtrain line up further north to abernethy forest type area maybe??? double check that). i'd stick to those lines rly for highland stuff. dont bother with aberdeen ive been told be so many people at this point (including from there) not to bother lol. its just boring. (unless youre using it to get on a ferry to orkney or shetland). .. hrmrmrmm for edinburgh. i am a bit of an edinburgh hater ,however the botanic gardens, the national gallery of scotland and lighthouse books are all nice. botanics are huge and nicely themed areas (and free except for the glasshouses which i've never been in) (but also out of th way of the city centre). national gallery has good stuff. lighthouse books is a queer-owned indie bookshop and has a rly nice selection of queer and political books but also various other local writers and things like that. its just rly nice. also Hadeel is palestinian gift shop items, so thats cool to go to i havent been tho. One world shop is also a nice fairtrade type shop. also i went to both holy cow cafe and lounge and the food was good . i will say tho that you absolutely can get into the highlands via edinburgh waverly but glasgow central + glasgow queen street have the west coast line + inverness route too, you'll need to go into glasgow for th west coast, in case you want to plan around that.

#its hard to do a tourist perspective bc i jus live here #but also if anyone is from edinburgh and knows cool things there then say in replies . bc i havent been there long enough #ever to know everything obvs. its not somewher ei go #and its too expensive to live in LOL #. but if u are in glasgow city centre for a while bc of trains. CCA and GOMA (for galleries) and ushi's for food #asks #also dont go to skye its too busy with tourists anyway and I would like to go so everyone else leave please

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trans-cuchulainn · 2 months

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also important context for chapter 4 is that these are the views from the train when you take the west highland line from glasgow to mallaig

also moody shit like this when it's raining

#they said 'write what you know' so i spent 6 years writing about the same 4-day trip

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railwayhistorical · 5 months

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Through the Hudson Highlands Here we see a New York City-bound train powering through a short tunnel and then rolling into the tiny village of Garrison, New York. The burg is located on the Hudson River directly across from West Point, in the Hudson Highlands. The two locomotives, EMD FL9s, that are powering the train—pushing, in this case—are unique, built specifically for operation in the Park Avenue Tunnel and bowels of Grand Central Station. This line is formerly the New York Central, which was four tracks wide for much of this stretch down to The City. Three images by Richard Koenig; taken in the fall of 1988.

#metronorthrailroad #metronorth #garrisonnewyork #garrisonny #hudsonlinemetronorth #hudsonline #hudsonvalley #hudsonriver #fl9 #filmphotography #grainisgood #newyorkcentral

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leohtttbriar · 6 months

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been thinking more and more about this illustration of jadzia dax as a cowboy and how westerns are about loneliness and how big the world is and how scary everything can be, but the best ones are actually kurosawa-remakes about weird-loners taking care of people in only the weird-ways they know how---and how if jadzia were in such a film, her ways of caring would be extra weird. for a western. and i produced this tall-tale while imagining her in a poncho.

knees in the saddle and a seat in the sky (ao3 link)

Dry air only hurt when you breathed.

Perhaps Jadzia could hold herself closed, wrap herself up in all the necessary layers and feed a water-mister through her nostrils, directly into her lungs, so her chest would stop cramping and her mouth would stop hurting. It was a possible option for her, if boring. She would keep considering if for as long as she worked in the endless aridity of Bajor’s ancient desert mountains, with only a simple bandana for protection.

And for now, for this morning, with the air so cool, she could mistake the dry for something else—something more invigorating.

It was a fresh morning: a gray dawn shedding the layers of dark as the planet turned into daylight. The path she walked was hardly still but there was almost a pretense of stillness, as if all the creatures who moved among the shrubs and burrows and sandstone were aware of the delicacy of transition. From full night to full day, Jadzia started her work in the in-between.

She hiked along the well-trod path, tamped down first by animals and exploited now by Jadzia and her research. Then, at the small marker she had left on the trail months ago when she had first been dropped off in the middle of this nowhere-everywhere, she turned into the brush, stepping as carefully as she could to keep the places where he boots fell a minimum. Despite her devotion to cautious preservation, she let her fingers drift over the soft fuzz of the emerald-y flowers, blooming like a storm, and closed her eyes briefly, tipping her nose up in the daylight.

She climbed across several foothills, scanning the area for shifts in the pattern or light gleaming off objects in a way it shouldn’t. All she saw was much the same as the day before. Eventually she reached her destination.

Along the southern reaches of the Tanis Canyon plains, before the world burst into mountains, a long stretch of fencing ran east to west. With a Cardassian-designed netting and pinched-wires, the fence was littered with the corpses of animals used to roaming the plains freely, caught in the thin and sharp lines of fence no one used anymore. It had been abandoned long before the Bajorans successfully ousted the Cardassians, and its remoteness left it further forgotten still. One of Jadzia’s many self-appointed duties in the area was to dismantle the fence. She slid gracefully down the final slope to the empty buff and found where she had left off the week before, pulling out her pliers and magnetic-disabler.

The dust kicked up as she walked forward and crouched by the fence-post. She tucked her bandana tighter around her face and bent to her work.

The rough-shod agriculture of the Occupiers had left what was once fallow-soil a crumbling and delicate layer of sediment. Any rain that fell obliterated the earth, washing everything into the canyon, leaving behind a vast expanse of use-less powder. Any life found was that of a traveler or a desperate scavenger, making their way from the highlands of the south to the wetlands far in the north.

Jadzia turned on her magnetic-disabler and began the painstaking work of untying the sharp netting from the post, rolling it up, and removing it from its stake in the ground. Each piece on each post had to be untied individually and could only be worked on so far as the magnetic-disabler’s field extended. It was boring and solitary work—a kind Jadzia hadn’t been used to since she was joined—but she performed it as best she could.

As rough and lonely as it was, she had seen no sky bigger than this one on the edge of the plains. It was a comfort for all that she hid under her hat to avoid its great glare. You couldn’t be truly alone with a sky like that.

Her thighs were aching and her fingers were cramping by the time she started on the fourth post, several hours later. But before she could untie the first knot, a shadow appeared over her hands. She startled and looked up.

“Have you forgotten to eat again?”

Kira had arrived. Next to her was her mount, Rabu, a palukoo-deer—the gray-green ungulate native to the desert plains, antlers curling over her flopping ears and framing Kira’s shoulders with their moon-blooms (closed now in the day), her large angry blue teeth dropping out of her mouth, her nearly two-meter legs restlessly pawing at the sand. They were long domesticated creatures, the first people in the region having befriended them for their scavenging abilities many millenia before, but Kira’s friend was a special sort, reared by Bajorans but left in the wilderness very young by the Occupiers, and so was very touchy and serious for such a pack-oriented animal.

Kira raised her eyebrows, waiting for Jadzia’s answer.

“…No,” said Jadzia.

Kira tilted her head in doubt, knelt in front of Jadzia and pulled her bandana off her face.

“Say that again.”

Jadzia rolled her eyes but didn’t bother trying to lie. “Curzon Dax was an excellent liar, you know,” she said.

“So why aren’t you?” asked Kira with a small laugh.

Jadzia shrugged, glancing out at the endless solitude of desert. “Some things stay the same.”

“Thank the prophets,” said Kira, though Jadzia couldn’t tell what she meant by it. “Now come on. I think you’ve done enough for today. You can’t leave your cats and lizards to fend for themselves and you can’t protect them without a midday meal.”

“They’re not my cats and lizards,” said Jadzia, getting to her feet and stretching her stiff legs. “They’re their own people.”

“They’re animals.”

“You’re an animal.”

“So I’ve been told,” said Kira with a grin.

“You’re jealous then,” said Jadzia, lightly. She helped Kira tie up the dismantled netting and posts in the wagon tied to her deer.

“Jealous?”

“Of how cute they are,” said Jadzia, pushing her hat back to let a rush of air cool her hairline and forehead. “Of how captivating they are. The whole ecosystem. Cute.”

“No one in the history of Bajor has ever called guerto lizards cute.”

“I can’t accept that, Major.”

Kira tried to pout at the title but gave up and held her cupped hands out to hoist Jadzia up onto Rabu. Then she pulled herself up in front of Jadzia, twisted the reins in her hands, and set off for the settlement.

“Can’t you go faster?” asked Jadzia, squeezing Kira’s hips for emphasis.

Kira laughed and then nudged Rabu into a run. Jadzia gasped, as always, with delight, and wrapped her arms around Kira’s waist. The dry air and the dust seemed to fade as they sped across the land, the feel of the moon-deer’s strides ricocheting through Jadzia’s sore body, Kira’s iron-y scent splashing over her. For a moment, the dearth of the soil slipped from Jadzia’s anxious mind.

Kira urged Rabu to slow as they neared the Bajoran settlement, the smallest and most remote one in the Tanis region. Several streams of farmers were making their way into town for lunch, equal parts laughing and exhausted. Kira guided them through the sparse crowds easily, stopping to drop off the fence-pieces at the local Province Engineers’ lab, and then taking Rabu to a feeding and watering well near the diner.

Jadzia slipped off the deer and made her way to Rabu’s head quickly, before the creature got distracted by the feast of dried fish-meat waiting for her.

“Here you go, sweet thing,” murmured Jadzia, spreading her palm on Rabu’s furry cheek and pulling out a few syrup stones she’d gathered from high-up in the mountains. Rabu opened her indigo-maw and snatched up the treat, twittering happily while Jadzia beamed.

“You need to stop spoiling her,” said Kira, hands on her hips.

“I will stop the second you actually want me to,” countered Jadzia, wiping the palukoo-deer slobber from her hand onto her grimy vest.

Kira blushed and Jadzia, somewhat overwhelmed at the sight, turned away towards the diner.

“I hear they’ve made fried river-kelp cakes today,” said Kira, catching up to her. “Have you tried them before?”

“I haven’t,” said Jadzia. “You got my list?”

“Of course.” Kira patted her pocket where she kept a small book of notes—mostly small reminders to herself to keep her busy schedule from crumpling under its own weight, but in the back, on a couple splattered pages, she’d added: Dax’s Bajoran Cuisine. She’d started it as a joke after Jadzia got lost trying to explain everything she liked about Bajoran food since Starfleet had arrived on planet and she mentioned wanting to keep a spreadsheet of all the new things she had tried. Kira had produced her faithful notebook and now it was nearly a year-long tradition to eat her midday-meals with Kira while Kira notated what Jadzia ate.

They stamped their feet on the wooden steps to the diner, trying to rid themselves as much as they could of the sprawling desert dust, before swinging through the doors and pushing their hats back to their neck upon entering the shade. The room was crowded with tired workers—scientists, farmers, diplomats, soldiers—and the bar was even more so. Kira forced her way to an empty corner of the bar and Jadzia followed, desperate for something strong.

“Nerys!” They turned. Shakaar was near the front of the diner waving his long arm over the crowd. Kira nodded at him, said, “I’ll be right back,” before making her way back through the room.

Jadzia settled against the bar, content to wait for Kira before ordering, pushing the loose strands from her braid back over her head and allowing herself a moment of rest.

The moment didn’t last long.

“Hey, Starfleet.” It was one of the diner’s regulars. An engineer—formerly of Kira’s old resistance cell—who spent his days trying to restore the moisture-generators in a thankless and helpless task bound to make anyone bitter the rest of their waking day. That his bitterness was consistently directed at Jadzia was…her burden to bear, she supposed.

“Druner,” she said, keeping one elbow on the bar and turning enough to acknowledge him but not enough to invite him. A couple of his buddies were behind him, covered in mechanical-grease and smelling of goat-shit. They must have been working near the old dairy pastures.

“Found anything useful yet in the mountains?”

Jadzia fiddled with the frayed button-holes on her sleeve cuff. She could tell him about the little river of lichen that was breaking down iron deposits in the stone, leaving freshly-freed metal droplets, encased in keratin, gleaming greenly in the red dirt, feeding the flying desert rodents and giant bajoran-caterpillers, who in turn spread base-metals and other nutrient rich stones just under the duff layer of mountain soil. But she knew this wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to hear. Instead she gave him a smile and said, “Everyday.”

“Bullshit,” he laughed. His buddies laughed with him. “When you gonna help out with the real work?”

“I am doing real work,” said Jadzia, calmly. “I’m doing what I’ve been ordered to do.”

“Starfleet needs to get its priorities straight.”

“You’re normally not this direct, Druner.” Jadzia raised her eyebrows, keeping her tone light. She could tell their conversation was attracting more attention than any one conversation out here should.

“Maybe I’m just in a mood,” he said, laughing again, nothing friendly about it.

Jadzia understood his frustration. She certainly didn’t ask for this position. When she’d arrived a year and a half ago, she’d been expecting to stay on the Space Station working on restoring its systems or to be assigned as a medical assistant on planet. Instead, Benjamin had assigned most of the senior officers to the Tanis Canyon province, where the worst of the ecological disaster had manifested after fifty years of occupation. And soon after, he’d taken Miles and Julian with him to the more populous area of the province, leaving Jadzia behind.

It wasn’t entirely her choice—she had expressed a simple curiosity in returning to the desert mountains closing in the Tanis plains, eventually, and Benjamin had tipped his head in that way he does when an idea has come upon him, his hands squeezing an imaginary baseball in front of him, before he suggested (ordered) that someone should stay to begin the ecological restoration work that no scientist on Bajor yet had the time for. Jadzia had taken a moment to work through all the reactions that all her selves had to this—those parts of her she attributed unconsciously to Lela and Curzon were the sinking-gut feeling, unhappy at the prospect of spending so many months doing field-work in near-solitude. But Jadzia was the feeling in her heart that lightened—who perhaps found the thought of camping alone in alien mountains somewhat thrilling.

But within a couple months she had made the enemy of the dairy-engineers after freeing a hara cat from a thorn-trap which had then proceeded to make off with a silver-goat whose horns were ready for milking. The ensuing fight when the engineers had discovered that it was the alien from Starfleet who was responsible for the loss of a prize milk-producing animal was only prevented from going bad in a “permanent” way because a Major sent that day to the settlement by the provisional government had fired a ear-busting warning blast into the air.

Kira, then a stranger, had given a Jadzia the most bewildered look when it was explained what the fight was about.

“Are you kidding me?” she had asked, one hand on her hip, twisting heavily on the heel of her boot in the crunching dirt. “A hara cat? You let a hara cat loose?”

Jadiza had simply spit a mouthful of blood to the ground, grinned, and said, “All thing have to eat.”

Kira has stared at her, jaw working, large, dark eyes shielded by the wide brim of her hat. Then she had promised the group of resentful workers that she would “take care” of Jadzia, which ended up being a half-hearted lecture about not starting any fights and then a thousand curious questions about the hara cat she had freed.

So Jadzia had continued her work of monitoring the ecosystem of the area, of working to understand it and understand the ways the creatures all moved and behaved and lived, despite the desertion of good soil in the plains below the highlands, and Kira remained her reluctant champion for her efforts. The tension between Jadzia and the people of the settlement was largely assuaged by Kira’s backing and by the fact that when Jadzia came into town she would look after the children and share with them her collection of fallen moth-wings, shedded and laced around a decomposing cactus. But many Bajorans weren’t happy with Jadzia still.

“The reclamators still haven’t arrived yet, have they?” asked Druner.

“Not that I’m aware of,” answered Jadzia honestly, wishing not for the first time there was something else she could say on the subject.

“Well I’m glad you’re trying your best, anyway,” he said bitterly. “Unless…”

Jadzia said nothing.

“When’s your captain coming back?” he continued. “Still making friends with Vedeks? Keeping with the higher ups?”

“I don’t know when he is returning.”

“Meaning, he probably won’t.”

“Meaning I don’t know.”

Druner snorted and moved a little closer to her. Her hand automatically drifted nearer her hip, where he phaser hung.

“Maybe you people should stop playing around,” he said. “Can’t get us the reclamators. Can’t divert funds or manpower. All Starfleet can do is leave us you. So you can satisfy you curiosity.”

“I’m not here for you, Druner,” said Jadzia, hardening her voice.

“Yeah, I know.” His hand fell on his weapon. “That’s the fucking problem.”

Jadzia’s heart raced but she was itching for something, after months of living like this, of being an outsider, of being grounded, of being an officer who serves no appreciable purpose. She narrowed her eyes. The air was thick.

“Step away.”

Kira was suddenly there, just over Druner’s shoulder.

Druner didn’t budge, his glare forging deeper lines into his face.

“I said,” Kira raised her voice as the whole room began to quiet. “Step away from her.”

Druner took the tiniest step back, his expression twitching with new self awareness. Jadzia smirked, just a little. Druner froze, smirked back, then threw the first punch.

The stars were out. How Jadzia loved to look at them. High up in her lonely camp, beneath the stone carved of ancient geological forces, on her measly mat, as the fire died down, and the only sound in the air was the night-wind and the simple tunes she could play on her mouth-organ, the stars filled the emptiness—reminded her that emptiness, in fact, did not exist.

The crunch of approaching footsteps alerted her to a visitor but she kept her sore face turned up to the sky. Only one person ever visited her camp in the mountains.

“I’m starting to get sick of pulling you out of fights,” said Kira, softly, emerging from the dry brush, her dark eyes lit by starlight and the dying embers of Jadzia’s fire.

Jadzia shrugged and finished off her slow tune on the organ. “Sometimes they’re just looking for someone to punch.”

“No, Druner definitely hates you.”

Jadzia turned and looked up at Kira who was staring into the fire, arms crossed.

“Not as much now,” said Jadzia, keeping her smile small to avoid re-busting her busted lip.

Kira sighed and then crouched to stir the flames. She tossed another log onto the fire and then sat by Jadzia’s hip.

“You don’t have to do that for them.” She still wouldn’t look directly into Jadzia’s face. “You don’t have to serve that purpose.”

“I have to serve some purpose.”

“No,” snapped Kira. “You don’t.”

Jadzia was quiet.

“What did Shakaar want?” she asked, too afraid to touch the fervor lurking under Kira’s voice and skin.

Kira fidgeted with the ends of her jacket, gaze down. “He found out that there’s a single Vedek holding up the transfer of reclamators to the Tanis plains. Seems like she’s been campaigning to have them used in areas with a better hope of recovery. Captain Sisko is doing all he can to have more engineered but already this demand is…driving a wedge.” She sighed again. “I’m not good at this kind of work. I was never a politician. I just want…”

She cut herself off and then looked up. Jadzia followed the long line of her neck back to the stars.

“People look at a place like this and see everything it isn’t,” said Jadzia, eyes finding the small light of the Space Station orbiting just beyond most of Bajor’s satellites in the inky black-blue of the sky. “It’s not a rainforest or a wetland or an ocean. The creatures that live here are all spiny and subsist on relatively little. But all life yearns to grow.” She nudged Kira’s leg playfully, twisting a little to see her face better. “This place will flourish again, Nerys.”

“That a promise?”

“It’s a professional opinion,” said Jadzia. “I’m a Science Officer. I’m full of them. Professional opinions.”

Kira’s tense, worried features slipped into a grin. She rolled her eyes and then finally looked down at Jadzia. Jadzia tried to smile back without making her lip bleed.

“Flourish?” Kira repeated, falling back onto the ground and turning on her hip to face Jadzia.

“Of course. Until, well, the eventual heat-death of the universe. Or probably when your sun turns into a red-giant. Or maybe there’s a climate crisis on the horizon that no reclamator can fix.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Change is going to happen,” said Jadzia. “That’s all I can say.”

“In the meantime,” said Kira. She reached out a hand, hesitated, then continued. Her rough fingertips landed delicately on Jadzia’s cheek, moving back to trace her spots, push a strand of greasy hair behind Jadzia’s ear, before settling warm on her jaw. Jadzia, throughout it all, didn’t breathe. “In the meantime,” Kira said again, softer this time. “You have to stop getting hurt. The hara cats need you. And the guerto lizards. And the needle-covered moths. And the wild palukoo-deer.”

“No,” said Jadzia, her heart thumping loud enough in her chest to scare her. “None of them need me. That’s kind of the point. They’re all smart. They’re all survivors.”

“Then I do, Jadzia,” said Kira simply.

And Jadzia couldn’t not kiss her.

She fell atop Kira’s body, finding her mouth quick enough to steal her last breath, and Kira’s fingers slid from her jaw to the back of her head, clenching.

“Finally,” Kira gasped against Jadzia’s lips.

“You could’ve said,” said Jadzia, kissing the iron-ridge of Kira’s nose before falling back to her mouth.

“I’m not that sort of brave.”

Jadzia kissed her again, feeling too big suddenly for everything that she was—feeling for the first time like she needed another body to hold it all.

It wasn’t difficult to be brave out in the remote arid land of Bajor’s newly-liberated planet. The Occupation hung like moonlight, the history clung like salt, and everywhere you walked in the desert was the sound of your footsteps, the sound of your weight, reminding you over and over that you can be heard, witnessed, found, and eaten. But it also wasn’t difficult to be a coward, to let your mind habituate to the greatness of everything else so you never have to look inside. Jadzia, spending her long, lonely days tallying the birth-rates of guerto lizards in their various dwellings on the mountainside, always found she could be both.

And perhaps she would allow herself to interfere with this subject of study—move beyond the realm of objective observer. She did so with the hara cat in the thorns.

And Kira, like this land, was a creature too fascinating to not give her attention.

#kiradax #ds9 #star trek #ds9 but as a western

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nevzatboyraz44 · 2 years

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جسر Glenfinnan هو جسر للسكك الحديدية تم بناؤه من عام 1897 إلى عام 1901 على خط West Highland في Glenfinnan ، اسكتلندا ، Inverness-shire.

The Glenfinnan Viaduct is a railway viaduct built from 1897 to 1901 on the West Highland Line in Glenfinnan, Scotland, Inverness-shire.

......

Glenfinnan Viyadüğü , İskoçya , Inverness-shire , Glenfinnan'daki West Highland Hattı üzerinde 1897'den 1901'e kadar inşa edilmiş bir demiryolu viyadüğüdür .

#Glenfinnan Viyadüğü #İskoçya #Scotland #türkiye #doğa #travel photography #travel destinations #travel #manzara #view #natural #europe #africa #Spotify

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menphinaswhitemage · 19 days

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Audrey Valentine

B A S I C S

Name Audrey Valentine

Nicknames Ladybug (mostly used by her mother. After hearing it her partner picked it up as one of her many nicknames she likes to call her).

Age Start of ARR - 24 (though I have her story start a year before ARR so, 23) Current age - 27

Nameday 25th Sun of the Fifth Astral Moon

Race Hyur (her mother is a Highlander, her father a Midlander)

Gender Cis Female

Orientation Bisexual

Profession White Mage/Member of the Conjurers Guild. In exchange for missions only in Eorzea/less dangerous missions she agreed to teach some of the new Conjurers that showed great potential. When she is not teaching them for work she usually tends to the injured, traveles to other parts of the Shroud to attend to the many settlements, or simply helps other with more mundane tasks. The job of a healer is not only to mend injuries but to help one's community, she thinks. She has recently started to learn non magical methods of healing, both for her own knowledge and for one of her students that wanted to learn.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair Red like her fathers. It's usually kept in her preferred half braid and rarely does she let her hair fully down (she feels naked if it is. its hard to explain). She used to have long hair but cut it after the birth of her child. While up it appears to only go to her chin, her hair is a bit longer when down though not by much.

Eyes Growing up she only had dark brown eyes. After the Calamity when she awoke 4 years late she discovered that her right eye was now red. She can only speculate that perhaps while staring up at Dalamud something happened to it. Her earring kept her alive during the Calamity is always worn on the left ear, the side that was unchanged.

Skin Pale, somewhere in between her mother and fathers complexion but they're so similar you can hardly tell. She has very light freckles on her face like her mother

Tattoos/Scars The most prominent scar is a burn scar on her back. Pinned underneath a burning tree during the Calamity even if it was treated properly it would have left a scar either way. Covering most of her upper and middle back she keeps it covered at all costs. She got an additional scar from when she was stabbed clean through. Though the mark is not very prominent on her sternum and more or less blends in with her burn mark on the back.

F A M I L Y

Parents Alexandra Valentine A simple woman from a long line of hunters. Her family lived in the West Shroud for many years until it was destroyed. Afterwards she spent some years in Shriogane and Yanxia with a friend until being reunited with Audrey.

Cecil Valentine One of the few to be chosen to revive the once forbidden art of White Magic before the Calamity. Audrey or her mother know little to nothing of his fathers side of the family, save for the fact that both his father and mother both came from families known for magic. He was called to defend Gridania at the Battle of Carteneau, and his wife followed. Only one of them would survive.

Children Estel Valentine Her son from her first marriage. Half Hyur, Half Elezen, he's barely two years old.

In-laws and Other One of her close friends and somewhat room, a viera named Velvet, is her sons godmother. Besides that she does (or rather will) have a mother-in-law whenever she marries her current partner.

Pets A fluffy black cat gifted to her by Velvet as a house warming gift when she moved into her current home. It can be rather fickle with people, especially when strangers try and approach Estel.

S K I L L S

Abilities Magic As stated before, she adept at White Magic. She knows other unaspected magic but only has one job stone.

Swordplay After her husband was murdered, one of her friends forced her to learn how to wield a sword. The reason itself is complicated, with June believing that getting revenge and killing the person responsible like she did would make Audrey feel better. It did not.

Hobbies Gathering/Spending time in nature While it may not seem like a hobby to others, Audrey enjoys going out into the woods and gathering food or herbs needed either by herself or others. She enjoys going for regular walks in nature, taking in the sights, fresh air, and quiet the wilderness provides.

Reading While she has no particular favorite genre, in her free time she has read fantasy, romance, historical fiction, history books, and basic aetherology. She doesn't understand this "sci-fi" thing one of the shopkeeps tried to recommend to her once.

Weaving While she rarely ever creates clothes, Audrey likes simple needle work projects and mending.

Dancing (rarely) Learning how to "properly" dance in Ishgards many balls and social events was a neccessity while she stayed at a noble house. While not much a "hobby" Audrey enjoys the feeling of a simple slow dance.

June's wife taught her the basics of harp playing while she lived in Ishgard…Not that she's very good at it. After leaving she's not played since.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: She tries her best to always believe in her friends, no matter their past. She believes that most people are capable of change, but never is so foolish in that belief to blindly trust other.

Most Negative Trait: She very prone to overthinking. At its worse it can lead to nightmares, paranoia, and a need to keep others close to her no matter what, while distrusting anyone else greatly. She often finds it hard to untangle all the thoughts in her head, making it harder to express her thoughts.

L I K E S

Colors: Earthy tones like dark green and even browns is something she likes to wear, reminding her of home. If not those colors she, abit cliche, likes white and reds. In recent times she's found dark blue looks good on her as well.

Smells: Simple, natural smells like a warm summers rain she finds the most pleasent. That and the smell of food. If she does wear perfume it is very light and compliments those smells, usually foral (and perhaps a preference of rose thanks to her partner.)

Textures: I don't believe she ever thinks about a favorite texture. Perhaps the feeling of well made fabrics or a soft bed.

Drinks: Dandelion tea. It was something she had a lot growing up and strangly one of the memories that stuck with her memories were lost. While not the only type of tea she likes, she always carries some on her.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Not at all, she can't stand the smell.

Drinks: Hardly ever. She's very much a lightweight and feels the affects after a glass of wine. Only one or twice in her life she did get completely drunk. It's hard to tell if she's a sad drunk due to her only drinking when she was dealing with things (tm). However both times she was able to be cheered up quickly and was a rather cheery drunk.

Drugs: Also no.

Mount Issuance: A white Ishgaridan Chocobo she named Tiramisu. It was an engagement gift from her first marriage- her husband raised it from a young age just for her.

Been Arrested: No, and it would be a rather embarassing affair if it ever did happen give her parential status and current job.

Thank you so much for the tag @viiioca! This was a lot of fun to put together, I kinda wanna do it for my other OCs sometime...Though I don't think about them on the same level as Audrey

I'll tag @elypiphoros, @wisteriaphyte, and @archaiclumina!

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv oc #ffxiv wol #audrey valentine #hyur midlander

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