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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
thisdayintrek
thisdayintrek

This Day in Trek

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

What You Leave Behind Season Seven, Episode Twenty-Five (X)

Series Finale - Original Air Date: June 2, 1999

“You may win this war, commander, but I promise you, when it is over, you will have lost so many ships, so many lives, that your "victory” will taste as bitter as defeat.“

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”I am their Emissary, and they still have a great deal for me to do.“

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”The more things change, the more they stay the same.“

darkfrog24
darkfrog24

In The Last Unicorn, the creature who doesn’t age and die and whose presence keeps the seasons from turning has no concept of regret. “I can feel sorrow, but that’s not the same thing.”

The prophets live outside of linear time.  Regret isn’t a thing for them.  It’s one of the things Sisko has to explain to them in the pilot episode.  A bad decision, and a thing is lost.

If you didn’t know what regret was, you would think it was sorrow.  I’ve seen the last two minutes of the show.  Marrying Kasidy doesn’t bring Sisko sorrow.

ds9vgrconfessions
ds9vgrconfessions: “ Follow | Confess | Archive [I learnt early on that there were people who shipped Bashir and O'Brien (though, for some reason, there are not many people here on tumblr who do that). What I find absolutely hilarious is that Bashir...
ds9vgrconfessions

Follow | Confess | Archive

[I learnt early on that there were people who shipped Bashir and O'Brien (though, for some reason, there are not many people here on tumblr who do that). What I find absolutely hilarious is that Bashir started to spend more time bonding with O'Brien when Bashir’s relationship with Garak had to be toned down. In other words, there is a Conseravation of Homoerotic Subtext happening in DS9. Now, isn’t that neat?]
brinnanza
brinnanza

here’s a snippet from my latest wip because I’m terribly fond of it:

Julian wouldn’t say he’s drunk, exactly. Not that he hadn’t given it the old college try – between the scotch he’d had with Miles, the beers he’d chased the scotch with, and the potent, fruity liqueur Quark had convinced him to sample, the only thing keeping him upright and not in a puddle on the floor is the alcohol tolerance afforded by his genetic enhancements.

So he’s not drunk. More like… pleasantly buzzed. As a medical professional, he’s qualified to make the distinction. He’s just tipsy enough that it seems like a good idea to be standing outside of Garak’s quarters in the middle of the night, laying on the sensor and seriously considering using his medical override. (It would be tremendously unethical, obviously, and would probably get him booted from Starfleet besides, but considering where he is and when, it’s safe to say that his judgment isn’t quite sound.)

He’s spared the humiliation of having to depart Deep Space Nine in disgrace when the door finally slides open to reveal the room’s occupant, dressed in a soft-looking tunic and trousers and glaring at him.

“Doctor,” Garak says. His voice is all irritation, none of it fond. “I assume you have a very good reason for waking me at this hour?”