#it's such a departure that the choice HAS to have been deliberate�� and with some pretty heavy justification

[mikkeneko]

#I'd have to go back to watch the episode to compare#but I can definitely hear the part that would have been identified#as 'swing your razor high sweeny'#anyway#I know that WWX's death was changed in the drama#vs the book#but it's a change I really love#if this musical interpretation holds up I love it#wwx is the sacrifice and he dances himself to death#3000 men couldn't kill him he had to do it himself - reblogging my own tags from last time

@citrusandbergamot can you say more? I’m not actually familiar with Rite of Spring. I just thought it reminded me of Sweeney Todd (and my mom agreed and began swinging her imaginary razor high) and I thought maybe they were doing similar things with riffing on the Dies Irae as Sondheim did there?

Edit: @veliseraptor​ started playing me The Rite of Spring and I have actual heard this and forgotten its name and I see what you mean but also still want to hear more about your thoughts on this

[ykiwrite]

departure

description: the only exception when headphones are not needed is when you're around

warnings: everything and none

requested: no

Not one soul truly knew with certainty what was the bond between Jenna and her headphones.

Majority of guesses pointed towards the same chain of remarks like a broken record, over and over.

She's obviously annoyed with all the attention around.

It's to drown out the fans, obviously.

Probably for a distraction.

While most of it was true, all of them were looked at from the surface level. There laid much heavier meaning. The one that Jenna herself is not too fond of uncovering to the world and never was.

She thinks it's sweeter that way. Not everyone has the right to know everything down to little details just because she made a choice of pursuing this path. Some things are better to stay under one's wing.

But when such thing is so broad, and the center of the media conversation, she grew to hate it which ultimately portrayed her as a liar and show-off. But she knew she was no different just because she preferred going outside more than staying inside. Just because she keeps on carrying them around everywhere she heads.

"Close your eyes, come on."

"I told you, i have them closed." Jenna insisted on the truth ever since you started struggling with her trickery for the past ten minutes. Unwilling and tired from opening gifts all day long.

It still felt like summer outside despite the calendar's date passing the one autumn was supposed to begin. You don't recollect signing a deal with the sun to set so deliberately on Jenna's face. As it were placed by your hand. Offering a daily reminder of how crudely you fell for the woman.

The sooner you start inscribing each detail of hers in your memory while this scenery lasts, the better. Not that you could ever forget her, even if she was taken away this very moment and never given back again.

You're just not sure how much will change, counting from this day onwards. A lot will.

Grabbing the box that, taking into account the trouble you withstand saving for it, could have been put together prettier.

But that was not Jenna's specialty after all. Being overly picky about things, it left no gaps for worry.

Normally, a grain of unease at giving gifts would invite itself but this one felt oddly at home.

Everything did with her around.

"So...it's nothing much. Just something that you're gonna, hopefully, take along with you when you leave."

Seeing the stuffed bags and girl's belongings as they confined the room felt suffocating. It took over your composure, twisting a knife stuck in you ever since news arrived. A week ago it had a life to it, it had Jenna written all over. Now, all it will become is an empty room until she's home again.

Jenna understood the absence of your pre-gift giving speech you surely had prepared for the obvious unsaid reasons. It made her awake.

Opening her eyes and first thing being you, she thought there's not a gift out there better than you in every way and form. But blinking the haziness away, she got the full picture.

"No way." She grabbed the box with a simple ribbon and a letter attached that will be delayed from opening for now. Knowing this day would never come if it wasn't for you making the actual move. All she did was words and never actions because "it's too much and i don't need it that bad".

Exactly why she needed it.

"But how? Why did you?"

You watched her open it like it has a fragile label plastered over. "I saved up. I know your saving addiction wouldn't let you do that and then what? You'd feel guilty so this is where i show up."

"Mannn, noise cancelling? Plus, it has that thing, forgot what it's called. You know the-"

She got over the moon with the unboxing while you watched. Less listened. You tried but it weighed heavy on your mind;

"So Jen," acted as a ground zero and breaking point, "since you landed this big role you're probably never gonna be home as much."

She knew where this was heading. You've been there many visits in the past.

"I won't be there to help with stuff unless you call or something. So distract yourself with this whenever you're out because i know how you are better than anyone-"

"Don't start again. You don't know that. I'm not gonna leave."

You hindered every way from this turning into arguing. Especially on her last day here. "Just listen to me. I want you to do great, even i'm not there."

God, this really is exhausting.

She stared at the folded headphones with your writing within them. A spot where no one could see. Just like a secret you were, and always remained, and it was always against Jenna to do so.

Her hands began to shake before she preoccupied them with the unfolding. Flashes were passing through the glass. She had no one to do what you were capable of. Or at least mimic, copy it in whatever way possible. The doors were opening against her will.

It was a double edged sword sooner than a pair of headphones she carried. Eternal reminder of what's left of you as ridiculous it sounds.

Your playlist compiled over the years was on while she was led by where the job took her down without you.

"I don't think i've ever seen someone so attached to their headphones, you know?"

Of course you didn't. God, he was too pushy. You wouldn't like him either.

Jenna laughed, toning down the insincerity but it was emerging.

"They were a gift before i left home some time ago. The whole idea was to-"

"Oh, they were? From who?" The man went ahead. He struck Jenna as someone who clearly wasn't interested in treating this podcast like a podcast. Rather a second hand source of news.

"Just someone that was, i mean- is really dear to me, you know?"

She should call you after this.

You were everywhere yet nowhere. In that woman leaning at the bar, in the deep waters of the conversation. In the guy sitting at the corner, reading something she can't figure out the name of. The girl chasing a dog for ten minutes straight.

This was so stupid.

"Are you okay?" Her only sane coworker out of everyone seated at this table patted her on the back, jolting her forwards. Perhaps she needed that.

"Yeah, why?" Who is she fooling?

"I saw who are you texting, that's why. Not to pry but maybe give it a break?" She was visibly cautious about the last part but uselessly.

"There's afterparty tomorrow, after the show. Maybe try and have fun?"

Come on. Jenna looked at her and smiled, in the meantime picking up the neatly placed headphones and pushing the chair to where it originally was. "Thanks but i don't think i'll be there. I'll be off now. You guys have fun, yeah?"

The third bottlecap dropping struck the floor and it was the loudest sound of the day besides the line ringing. Piercing her sense of hearing making it the only sound stuck for the rest of the week. Without Jenna acknowledging that. The cold, high story building with a nice view was never in the position to fill the void of you.

Jenna was tired. She was staring at the phone unanswered, it was all she saw on her unlit kitchen floor.

"I know you're not sleeping, please."

As a matter of fact, there was a mutual agreement. That type neither side obeys and respects. Maybe only just in the beginning but as days fly by it starts being harder to play by the rules.

She was only to call when it was critical. And to her, every day was critical and you weren't much different. Just better at hiding.

Quiet.

Jenna dared to smile to herself, unknowing she still had it in her.

"...it's late Jenna."

That alone, more than enough to keep her at bay. If only she can capture it and lock it away somewhere, anywhere that's close at reach.

"I know, i know. I just, i miss you."

The shuffling replaced your voice as it gave you time to think. So why did you go with the question you couldn't care less already knowing the answer to it. "How was the afterparty?"

Jenna knows you better than that. It's not foolproof.

"I didn't go."

"You should. Maybe you'd find someone."

A great deal of things this device around her head witnessed but this was fairly new.

"You know i won't-"

"What if you do?"

"Because i don't care about anybody else. Don't you get it already? In these past, what? Months we have been talking on and off?"

She let a sigh slip by her lips. "It was always you."

Hoping your laugh doesn't get mistaken for a rude one, it's just a cover up for what's really playing out behind the screen, you fought through, "Well then, prove it. You've been away for too long anyway."

Not much changed since the last time.

Even though, in regards to sites she visited, this is the most peace felt.

She wasn't an actor. A celebrity. A character. Someone who dealt with vast fame. She was simply Jenna here. And it's the purest version of her.

Standing at the entrance felt like the longest, most torturous thing she ever performed. There was nothing playing over the phone. Jenna still had them on which stopped her from detecting you behind closed doors.

You're not sure how long your hand was laying on the handle, it should probably do something about it soon.

It was not dark outside, but not complete daylight either. Jenna picked up on it when the inside light escaped. Shined on her greater and warmer than any place she's been to provided.

You stood there, for the first time. The silence in Jenna's mind, thanks to your gift, created a chance to worship, take you in ever more. Just like the first time.

Slowly, shortening the painful distance between, no words were said but if only eyes could speak.

It took Jenna some time to notice you removing what kept her grounded for so long. Until she finally heard it, without drawn out ringing of the line or a faulty service.

"You don't need them anymore."

"No. I don't."

notes: as you can see i was so heavy in the feels it needed to be done, thank you for surviving through i love you

[genshinemblem564]

Chapter 3: Awakening

TW: attempted murder, talks of execution, summoner gets sadistic.

_______________________________________________

A few days before the festival. After much deliberation you decided the heroes of Fodlan would be a perfect choice for a good first impression of the Order of Heroes to Liyue. You justified bringing this many heroes by telling a half truth, Beidou isn't known for being quiet and for some people being royalty is enough to make someone a target. Bernadetta is there as well, but knowing her you told her she only has to leave the ship if she's needed, after all a festival is meant to be fun, forcing someone to go defeats the purpose. You've already talked to Ingrid and Holst about keeping Sylvain and Balthus on a tight leash, also informing the latter two to be on their best behavior.

Raphael: Hey (Y/N), why did we need to bring all this food? Aren't we going to a festival?

(Y/N): Because, we're not sure what currency Teyvat uses, if they don't use gold the stalls will be all we can get anything from, and that's only some stalls.

Ignatz: So, in short gold may not be a valid currency, you really think of everything summoner.

Raphael: Is it really something they need to think about? I mean, every world we've been to takes gold don't they?

Leonie: Not every world, what about that Tokyo place?

(Y/N): Exactly, it may be a slim chance, but it's still something we need to prepare for.

Anna: Oh!! The currency totally slipped my mind!

(Y/N): Really? I expected you of all people to be on top of that.

You and the others all share a laugh before being interrupted by Caspar.

Caspar: Hey guys, you've got to get up here its crazy!

Everyone rushes to see what the young brawler was going on about, only to be greeted by a slew of lanterns lighting the night sky. While everyone was enamored by the beauty of the harbor at night, you couldn't help but recall those cold sleepless nights during the hunt. Your ship soon reached the docks and you were greeted by an unexpected face.

Ningguang: Welcome, everyone, to Liyue harbor. My name is Ningguang, I am the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, once I heard we were welcoming royalty, I figured I'd see to it personally.

(Y/N): Uh, you weren't waiting here all day, were you?

Ningguang: No need to concern yourself, I could see you approaching from the Jade Chamber, only then did I decide to come down and greet you. Now, I hate to bring business into the conversation, but I'd like to discuss finances, as I've heard your island is from another world entirely...

(Y/N): Apologies lady Ningguang, but the prince and princess are not responsible for such things as the king and queen still hold the throne, they are only responsible for minor things, well minor by comparison anyways.

Ningguang: Is that so? How unfortunate, I suppose I'll simply have to visit this kingdom myself. Anyways, with that you all enjoy yourselves.

Ningguang makes her departure, and you notice a crowd has started to gather, you can hear whispers and murmurs from every direction. Suddenly a figure comes running out of the crowd and up to all of you.

Xinyan: Hi there, I'm Xinyan, Liyue's one and currently only rock artist, pleasure to meet all of you.

Dorothea: Rock? Oh, I know that apparently it was a major hit in the summoner's world, I've been dying to here it, but the summoner can't play for the life of them and no one could teach them a genre they've only heard of.

Xinyan: Well you're in luck, cause I've got a show happenin tonight, it'll take place over. OH, right you haven't been here before, sorry I nearly forgot, c'mon I'll show ya round.

With that Dorothea and a few others left with Xinyan, you try your best to navigate the crowd of people before bumping into someone.

(Y/N): OOF, my apologies, this city is far too crowded, are you alright?

Xiangling: Oh, I'm fine, more importantly, are you those people from that island, I've been so curious about that place ever since it appeared, please tell me everything.

Xingqiu: Xiangling, perhaps you should back up, I take it from their expression they are not quite used to large crowds such as this.

Xiangling looks at you closely, while you are wearing your hood and mask, she could still make out your discomfort from your mouth.

Xiangling: Ah, sorry I got a little too excited.

(Y/N): It's fine, but you're better off asking someone else as I'm a recent arrival there myself.

Xiangling nods and runs off, Xingqiu bows and follows her. As much as you'd like to stay close to your friends, the crowd really is a bit much at the moment so you exit the city's front gate, heading for the nearest teleport waypoint. As you breathe a sigh of relief, you're startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, you turn to see the traveler and Paimon.

(Y/N): Huh!? W-Who's there?

Aether: Whoa there, easy we're just on our way to Liyue, we didn't mean to frighten you.

(Y/N): Sorry, I had to leave the city the crowd was a bit much for me, so I was still a tad on edge.

Aether: I see, would you like some company, it may help you calm down

(Y/N): That would be nice, thank you.

The traveler sat next to you, and the two of you traded stories.

Aether: So you've been to war huh? I can see why crowds overwhelm you now.

Paimon: Yeah, it can't be good for your mind to always be looking for threats around you.

(Y/N): Yeah, but you two have been through a lot to, and all to find your sister.

The three of you sat in silence, Paimon floating as usual, before another set of footsteps approach.

Paimon: Huh? Ah, traveler!

Aether: What is it, huh!?

When the three of you turn around there's a vicious looking individual holding a blade, and wearing your face. This individual says nothing before attempting to stab you. You dodge and ready your weapon.

Aether: You have some nerve showing yourself today of all days.

Imposter: Hehehe, you see this face boy, I'm your god, I'm the one who's meant to rule this world, me, me, MEEE! If you stand in my way, you'll pay with your head!!

You and the traveler dodge their swings again and again, but everytime you two try to strike they dodge or block, they seem to have done some intense training if they can handle the both of you.

Aether: Hey,look out!!

Shaken from your thoughts, you turn to see the fiend's blade mere inches away from you. Time seems to slow down as your end draws closer, when suddenly.

BZZT

CRACKLE

When you next open your eyes you're fine, not a scratch on you.

Imposter: What? How? You won't dodge this one.

In an instant you're behind this would be murderer and start wailing on them. Punch after punch, they try to strike you but are met with a cloud of dust, and one final blow lands them on the ground. As you inspect yourself for any unknown injuries you spot a mark on the back of your hand that resembles the electro sigil, but before you could inspect further it's gone, you're shaken from your thoughts by the sound of groaning, looking to it's source you see your assailant trying to crawl away, before you step on their arm.

(Y/N): You're not going anywhere.

As you say this, you put more and more weight on their arm until you're sure it's broken, then moving to do the same with the other.

Paimon: They were so nice during our chat and now they're acting all vicious, Paimon can't help but be a little scared.

(Y/N): Hmm? Oh, don't worry, I only get this way around truly vile scum.

You say as you snap the person's other arm with a grin on your face.

(Y/N): Anyways, what do we do with them? There a bounty to turn in or was this a first time offense?

Aether: They're the ones who've been trying to masquerade as their grace, so obviously we need to turn them in and execute them.

(Y/N): Alright then. (Whispered) ugh, what a way to spend my birthday.

Aether: What was that?

(Y/N): Nothing, anyways, back to the city.

You and the traveler bring the imposter to the city gates and let the guards take things from there. The guards and all the towns people who saw them being transported seemed ecstatic about their apprehension. This was definitely one of your weirder birthdays.

_______________________________________________

Wow this got long, I just didn't know where to end it, and what's crazier is I wanted to add even more. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I'll try and focus on character interactions for the next one.

[francesbeau]

The Meaning of Art - Herbert Read

Read. H ‘The Meaning of Art.’ (2017) Faber and Faber Ltd. 

I II III 

I 

“There are at least a dozen current definitions of Beauty but the merely physical one is the only essential one.’ (pp.19)

‘Most of our misconceptions of art arise from a lack of consistency in the use of the words art and beauty.’ (pp.19)

‘The art of a period is a standard only so long as we learn to distinguish between the elements of form.’ (pp.25)

‘Distortion may mean a departure from regular geometrical harmonium or more generally it implies a disregard for the proportions given in the natural world. Distortion of some kind, we may therefore say, is present in a very general and perhaps paradoxical way in all art.’ (pp.29) 

‘All these departures from exact imitation are purposive. They are dictated either by the artists will form, his desire for  a balanced pattern, or they are dictated by his desire to make a symbol for something super-real, something spiritual.’ (pp.31)

‘What we really expect in a work of art is a certain personal element - we expect the artist to have, if not a distinguished mind, at least a distinguished sensibility. We expect him to reveal something to us that i original, a unique and private vision of the world.’ (pp.33)

‘The Work of art, is in some sense a liberation of personality ; normally are feelings are inhibited and repressed. we contemplate a work of art and immediately there is a release; not only a release - sympathy is a release of feelings - but also a heightening, a teetering, a sublimation.’ (pp.39) 

‘Here is the essential difference between art and sentimentality; Sentimentality is a release but also a loosening, a relaxing f the emotions. art is a release but also a bracing. art is the economy of feeling. t is emption cultivating good form.’ (pp.39)

‘In a perfect work of art all the elements are interlaced; they cohere to form a unity which has a value greater than the mere sum of these elements.’ (pp.65) 

‘These structural motives are very important in the making of a picture or any other plastic work of art, though they are not necessarily a deliberate choice of the artist. they reveal more clearly than anything the predominating rhythm of the period.’ (pp.68) 

II

‘The theory that art is self-expression will not carry us far; for what is the self’ that is expressed?’ (pp.83) 

‘The answer to the question whether great art can exist independently of religion will therefore depend on our scale of values. The court of judgment is sooner or later the community.’ (pp.83) 

‘Perhaps the most amazing characteristic of peasant art is universality. Th same motives same modes of abstraction, the same form, techniques seem tp spring up spontaneously out of the soil in every part of the world.’ (pp.88)

‘Throughout its history Chinese art convenes nature as animated by an immanent force, and the object of artists is to put themselves in communication with this force, and then to convey its quality to the spectator. Such an aim in Western art would lead to all kinds of dubious romanticism and mysticism, but as if by a miracle the Chinese artists is always saved from such troughs of sentimentality.’ (pp.102)

‘The success of the picture depends upon its final fusion or cohesion in the mind of the spectator.’ (pp.126)

‘For the main tendency of modern art, in spite of certain romantic exceptions has been toward a re-integration of the intellect. (Intelligence as a basis for art) The intelligence can never be regarded as the finished material of art; nor can the unorganized emotions of the subjective painter.’ (pp.128)

‘Impressionism was moving toward the static. We murder to dissect and you cannot analyze without at the same time arresting.’ (pp.179)

‘material medium’ 

III

‘Composition is the art of arranging in a decorative manner the various elements which the painter uses to express his sentiments.’  (pp.220)

‘A work of art implies harmony of everything together (une harmonie d’ensemble); every superfluous detail will occupy in the mind of the spectator, the place of some other detail which is essential.’ (pp.220)

‘The real function of art is to express feeling and transmit understanding.’ (pp.222)

‘Nothing is more absurd than the spectacle of an ardent young snob trying to cultivate an emotion before a great work of art.’ (pp.222)

- profound relationship between artist and community 

‘his tone, his tempo, his intensity from the society of which he is a member. But the individual character of the artists work depends on more than these/ It depends on a definite will-to-form which is a reflection of the artists personality, and there is no significant art without this act of creative will.’ (pp.224)

[musicindustry123]

The Comeback of Vinyl: Why Physical Media Isn’t Dead Yet

As digital streaming becomes the dominant format for music consumption, it’s easy to assume that physical media is on its way out. However, recent trends reveal a surprising resurgence in vinyl records, pointing to one of the more unexpected changes in the music industry. Despite the widespread convenience of streaming, vinyl sales have been steadily increasing over the past decade. Collectors and new fans alike are drawn to the tangible experience that vinyl provides, suggesting that, in a world of digital playlists and algorithms, there’s still a place for physical formats.

In 2022, vinyl records outsold CDs for the first time in decades, proving that vinyl isn’t just a nostalgic relic but a preferred choice for a growing audience. This revival has influenced how music is marketed, distributed, and appreciated. For some, it represents a return to high-quality audio and an intentional listening experience, while others see it as a trendy collectible. This article explores why vinyl’s resurgence is so significant, how it fits into the broader evolution of music consumption, and what its popularity says about the evolving relationship between fans and artists.

The Resurgence of Vinyl in a Digital Era

Vinyl’s return to popularity might seem surprising at first glance, given the dominance of digital streaming and the accessibility it offers. Platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, and Tidal have reshaped the way people listen to music, providing instant access to millions of songs. However, vinyl’s growth indicates a shift in listener priorities. While streaming offers convenience, vinyl provides a sensory experience that digital music lacks.

For many music lovers, owning a vinyl record means more than just listening to songs; it’s about engaging with the music in a physical, tangible way. Vinyl records come with large album art, liner notes, and a need for deliberate engagement — listeners must carefully set up the record, flip it halfway through, and dedicate time to the entire album. This ritualistic aspect of vinyl listening has rekindled a sense of music appreciation that some feel has been lost in the age of digital convenience.

The Appeal of Sound Quality and Authenticity

Another factor contributing to vinyl’s popularity is its distinct sound quality. Unlike compressed digital audio, which can sometimes lose subtle sonic details, vinyl is known for delivering a warmer, richer sound. Audiophiles argue that vinyl offers a superior listening experience, preserving the nuances of an artist’s performance in a way that streaming often cannot replicate. This appeal to sound quality has driven many younger listeners to explore vinyl, as they seek an experience that feels closer to the artist’s original vision.

Vinyl also taps into the desire for authenticity in an increasingly digital world. In an era where music is accessible with a tap, vinyl brings back an element of exclusivity and rarity. The scarcity of certain records, especially limited-edition or vintage pressings, adds to the allure. Fans see their vinyl collections as personal expressions of their music taste and cultural identity, and some artists have begun creating unique vinyl releases with bonus content, further incentivizing fans to buy physical records.

Who’s Driving the Vinyl Revival?

The recent surge in vinyl sales isn’t just driven by nostalgic listeners; in fact, millennials and Gen Z are some of vinyl’s biggest consumers today. Studies show that younger generations are drawn to vinyl’s analog appeal, viewing it as a refreshing departure from their digital lives. Additionally, social media has played a significant role in the vinyl revival, with platforms like Instagram and TikTok filled with users showcasing their collections, favorite records, and turntable setups. The aesthetic appeal of vinyl has undoubtedly contributed to its resurgence, as the visual and tactile nature of vinyl resonates in a highly visual culture.

Record Store Day, an annual event celebrating independent record stores, has also played a role in vinyl’s comeback. This event, launched in 2007, features limited-edition vinyl releases, discounts, and in-store events, drawing music lovers to record shops and creating a community-oriented experience. Record Store Day has introduced vinyl to a new generation of listeners and continues to drive interest in physical media, helping foster a sense of connection and shared passion among music fans.

Vinyl and the Artist-Fan Relationship

One of the most exciting changes in the music industry that vinyl’s comeback represents is the shift in the artist-fan relationship. Vinyl creates a more intimate connection between the artist and the listener, offering fans a piece of art that goes beyond the music itself. When fans purchase vinyl, they’re not just buying music; they’re supporting the artist directly and owning a part of their creative output. This physical connection adds value, creating a loyal fan base that feels more invested in an artist’s journey.

Moreover, artists have found creative ways to use vinyl releases to engage fans. Some musicians offer exclusive vinyl editions, with alternate album art, unreleased tracks, or colored vinyl, making these editions highly desirable. Bands like Radiohead, The 1975, and Billie Eilish have all embraced vinyl as a way to enhance fan experience, offering limited-edition releases that often sell out quickly. This special interaction adds a level of exclusivity and personal investment that streaming cannot offer, reinforcing vinyl as a valuable part of an artist’s relationship with fans.

Environmental Concerns: Balancing Passion with Sustainability

As vinyl’s popularity grows, so does the environmental concern surrounding its production. Vinyl records are made from polyvinyl chloride (PVC), a type of plastic derived from fossil fuels, and the production process itself requires significant resources. As fans become more environmentally conscious, many are beginning to question the sustainability of vinyl and the carbon footprint associated with pressing and distributing records.

Some record labels and artists are exploring eco-friendly alternatives, such as using recycled vinyl or producing “carbon-neutral” records. Additionally, there’s a movement toward eco-friendly packaging and carbon offset programs that aim to make vinyl production less damaging to the environment. While these efforts are still in their early stages, they reflect an awareness of the environmental challenges tied to physical media, and the music industry’s responsibility to address them.

The Future of Vinyl and Physical Media in a Digital World

Vinyl’s resurgence signals a broader cultural shift in how people engage with music. Even as streaming dominates, vinyl has proven that there’s still a demand for physical media and a deeper connection to music than what digital platforms typically offer. While vinyl’s growth may plateau in the future, it’s likely to retain a niche market among collectors and audiophiles who value its unique qualities.

Some industry experts believe that other forms of physical media, such as CDs and even cassette tapes, may see similar revivals. Already, a small community of cassette tape enthusiasts has emerged, celebrating its lo-fi charm and retro aesthetic. While these formats will likely never achieve the mainstream success of vinyl, they indicate a growing appetite for tangible music experiences.

Ultimately, vinyl’s revival reflects a larger trend within the music industry: the desire for choice. Fans want options beyond streaming, and they appreciate formats that offer something unique. Vinyl may not overtake streaming in popularity, but it has proven that physical media can coexist with digital platforms, providing a richer and more varied music experience.

Conclusion:

The resurgence of vinyl records highlights some of the fascinating changes in the music industry today. In an era dominated by digital convenience, vinyl offers listeners a chance to slow down, engage with music on a deeper level, and reconnect with the artistry behind each album. This revival speaks to the ongoing appeal of tangible, high-quality experiences, and it shows that physical media still holds value in an increasingly digital world.

As the industry continues to evolve, vinyl’s popularity reminds us that music is more than just sound; it’s an art form that can be appreciated visually, tangibly, and emotionally. Vinyl provides fans with a rare opportunity to own a piece of music history, and for artists, it offers a way to create meaningful connections with their audiences. Vinyl’s comeback might be unexpected, but it’s a testament to the enduring power of music to bring people together across generations.

[viviandoanmanipulatedimage]

Photoshoot 1: Exploration

Behind the Scene

Reflection:

This photoshoot session went relatively smoothly. I enlisted the help of my friend Levi to be the model for this project, and I specifically requested that he wear futuristic monochrome clothes to align with the visual vibe I aimed to achieve. Monochromatic clothing is my preferred choice as it offers more flexibility during editing, allowing me to incorporate colours if necessary. Fortunately, the lighting conditions on the day were ideal, enabling me to capture some good shots of Levi. I intend to experiment with photo manipulation and incorporate 3D shapes and forms, drawing inspiration from my artist model, Lengmo. This creative direction will allow me to delve further into my futuristic theme.

Testing

Feedback:

While the image is visually interesting, there needs to be meanings under each element that was manipulated into the image

Theme need reconsidering as futuristic is quite a board, be more specific

Every making decisions need to have a meaning and purpose

Focus on telling a story, perhaps could be the model's story

Reflection:

This is my initial draft. I generated the shapes and patterns using Illustrator and Photoshop, adding colours to them. I needed a more precise direction during this creative process, resulting in a somewhat random composition. After receiving feedback from Emil, I now realise the importance of making more deliberate choices for my images, ensuring each element holds a specific meaning to enhance the image's contextual power. I'm considering a departure from the futuristic theme for my next steps or relating it to a more specific theme. My next plan is to create more work highlighting the model's culture, the significant aspects of their cultural heritage, and how this connects to the past, present and future elements, creating a more profound narrative.

Photomontage Research:

Recognising that my primary focus for this assignment revolves around photomontage, I intend to delve deeper into researching this particular method of image manipulation.

Main points:

Photomontage, an artistic practice that has been around since the early days of photography, involves creating a single image by combining two or more original or existing images.

The artist's aim is to prompt their audience to contemplate the relationship between these grouped images. Photomontages are typically assembled through cutting and pasting, often combining photographs with non-photographic elements like text, patterns, and shapes.

Sometimes, a "new" image is formed by altering an original photograph through tearing and cutting. In each case, this artistic method requires viewers, whether consciously or unconsciously, to interpret the original artwork through associations between the images.

Myers, Mcintosh (1998) “First, establish the intensions of a message. Then identify various methods for nipulation and stylistic embellishment can be used to create dishonest figures and e integrity analyzing the data and make decisions about which method is most appropriate for representing the intended message.  

Both designers and readers should watch out for potential dishonesty in graphic messages that use these techniques. The message includes visual examples and a reminder to be aware of data source limitations.

Artists can convey a message in multiple ways without compromising its integrity by using different data analysis methods and graphical representations.

[popmusicu]

How "Behaviour" by Pet Shop Boys became a depiction of the AIDS crisis

The emergence of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s had a profound impact on society and the music industry, leaving an indelible mark on both individuals and institutions. With limited understanding and rampant misinformation, AIDS became a source of deep-seated fear and pervasive stigma, particularly affecting the LGBTQ+ community, which bore the brunt of the epidemic. Within the music industry, the AIDS crisis had a significant influence, as many musicians and artists were directly impacted by the disease. This led to a surge in activism, fundraising efforts, and calls for awareness. Moreover, the crisis shaped the themes, lyrics, and creative direction of numerous musicians, including the Pet Shop Boys, who aimed to capture the immense emotional weight and address the pressing issues faced by their communities. As the AIDS crisis unfolded, their music, which had once been filled with lyrics about love and relationships accompanied by catchy melodies, took on a deeper and more introspective tone, reflecting the weight of the epidemic.

The album "Behaviour" (1990), with its abundance of slow and mid-tempo tracks, marked a departure from the seemingly frivolous concerns of their earlier works. The title itself remains mysterious, but Neil Tennant has described it as a deliberate choice for a more "personal" and "un-ironic" title, reflecting the serious and contemplative worldview embraced in this piece. The death of a close friend of Tennant and the rumored loss of Lowe's partner served as catalysts for the project, making "Behaviour" a poignant reflection of their personal grief processes. One of the standout tracks on the album is "Being Boring," which takes inspiration from a quote by Zelda Fitzgerald, serves as a heartfelt contemplation of the paths their lives have taken, juxtaposed with the personal and social devastation caused by AIDS. The song encapsulates the bittersweet nature of their success and fame in the face of the epidemic's impact.

From a sociological perspective, "Behaviour" offers a comprehensive exploration of the consequences of prevalent attitudes of the era. Whether it is the devastating impact of AIDS, the repercussions of greed, infidelity, and promiscuity, the personas assumed in the realm of pop stardom, or the collapse of communism, the album chronicles a sense of loss and bewilderment brought about by individual and collective "behaviors" gone astray. This aligns with Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's five stages of grief, which the album encapsulates in specific tracks. "To Face the Truth" represents denial, "Jealousy" reflects anger, "So Hard" embodies bargaining, "The End of the World" captures depression, and "My October Symphony" and "Only the Wind" convey acceptance.

While some may argue that the introspective feelings dissipate in their subsequent album, considering the explosive sound that characterizes "Very" (although this viewpoint is highly debatable and easily challenged if one looks beyond just "Go West"), it is in 1996, when AIDS appeared to have reached its peak with the availability of more effective treatments, that Pet Shop Boys ultimately bring closure to this dark chapter in their lives. This closure is achieved through the release of "The Survivors," a song crafted as a commemoration of those who have passed away, while emphasizing the importance of carrying on in their memory: "Somehow we'll survive.”

Francisco Rojas.

[emonthlynews]

This Is Why: Paramore’s Masterpiece Departs from Emo Roots and Defies Genre

Emo, a subculture and genre that rose to popularity in the early 2000s, has been making a massive comeback in recent years. 

From the resurrection of old school emo bands such as My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy, to the rise of new acts like Phoebe Bridgers and The Neighborhood, emo has re-established itself as a powerful force in popular music. 

And now, one of the most iconic emo bands of all time, Paramore, is back with their first album in five years, “This Is Why.”

Paramore, consisting of singer Hayley Williams, guitarist Taylor York, and drummer Zac Farro, rose to fame in the early aughts with their blend of emo, punk, and pop-punk. 

Hits like “Misery Business” and “Decode” earned the band a massive following, cementing their place in the emo canon. And now, with the release of “This Is Why,” Paramore is once again making waves in the music world.

But this album isn’t what you might expect from an emo band in 2023. Instead of embracing the emo revival and capitalizing on the genre’s recent resurgence, Paramore has taken a different approach. “This Is Why” can’t be described as emo, punk, or pop-punk at all. 

In fact, it’s a deliberate departure from the sound that made Paramore famous. And that’s entirely by design.

Read also: Diplo Shows Respect for Beyoncé in Latest Instagram Post

Paramore

Hayley Williams and her bandmates have always been known for their genre-defying approach to music. From the start, they’ve never been afraid to push boundaries and try new things. And with “This Is Why,” they’ve done just that. 

The album is a melting pot of different genres and influences, from indie rock to alternative pop to R&B. It’s a testament to the band’s versatility and willingness to experiment.

So why did Paramore choose to go in this direction with their new album? It’s simple: they wanted to evolve. The music scene is constantly changing, and the band didn’t want to be stuck in the past. 

They wanted to create something new and fresh, something that would stand the test of time. And they’ve succeeded. “This Is Why” is a masterpiece, a tour de force of musical creativity and ambition.

The album is a departure from their earlier emo and pop-punk roots, and it’s a deliberate choice by the band. They didn’t want to remain in the past and instead wanted to create something new and fresh that would stand the test of time. 

And they’ve succeeded. The 10 songs on “This Is Why” are a tour de force of musical creativity and ambition, showcasing the band’s versatility and willingness to experiment.

But what sets “This Is Why” apart is its powerful political lyrics. The album examines the group’s anger and frustration over the state of the world, and it’s a reflection of the current political climate. 

The songs are a call to action, urging listeners to stand up and fight for what they believe in. It’s a bold statement from a band that’s never been afraid to speak their mind.

Emo Genre

Despite the major shift in sound, the members of Paramore can’t help but compare the early days of their career to the now emo and pop-punk revival. 

They’ve seen the genre they helped pioneer make a massive comeback in recent years, with old school emo bands like My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy making a comeback, and new acts like Phoebe Bridgers and The Neighborhood rising to prominence. 

But Paramore isn’t just cashing in on the sudden mainstream popularity of emo. They’re leading the charge and taking the genre in a new direction.

“It’s very unexpected,” Farro stated of how famous the genres have become. 

“It’s cool, but it’s also weird. Hayley got to express a lot of cool things [at 2022’s When We Were Young music festival] and speak to that scene [about] some stuff that needed to be touched on. If anything, [the genre] was for all the people that didn’t fit in, and it was cool to be there for that.”

Williams added: “It’s wild because emo meant something different to us when we were really young. When we came on to the scene, it was very much a bad word. It had negative connotations because even before us, that word was not really a welcomed expression or term to people in punk music.”...Read More

Read also: Harry Styles and Dancers Impress with Reverse “As It Was” Performance at 2023 Grammy Awards

Source: Entertainment Monthly News

[theroyalsims]

BREAKING: AL-SIMHARA’S CROWN PRINCE IBRAHIM QUITS; RELINQUISHES ROYAL TITLES

Massive news from Al-Simhara today, as an official statement from Crown Prince Ibrahim was released, announcing his relinquishment of his role as heir to the throne.

Ibrahim’s decision was announced via a lengthy handwritten letter, sent to various local and international news outlets. The letter, already confirmed to be genuine, is reproduced in its entirety below:

Over the past year, you have all been witness to the struggles and difficulties I have faced concerning both my public and private life. I was made to give up the woman that I love, my relationship with my family has been reduced to ashes, and despite all the horrifying events that unfolded in my life, I was left with no choice but to continue with life, as if all is well. 

But all is not well, and continue, I cannot. After many agonising months of deliberation, I have decided that I can no longer proceed with my role and duties as the Crown Prince and heir to the throne to the Kingdom of Al-Simhara. I am officially relinquishing all my rights and titles as Crown Prince and giving up any and all claims to the Al-Simharan Crown. 

I would like to thank the people of Al-Simhara for the kindness and support you have given me through the years. It is because of you that I find this decision very difficult to make. All my life, I have wanted nothing more than to serve my people as Crown Prince, and one day, as King. Please know that I will forever value all of you, perhaps no longer as my subjects, but as my brothers and sisters, my countrymen. 

I would also like to thank my family, especially my father, His Majesty The King, for raising me to be the man I am today. It is because of the integrity and honesty that you have instilled in me, that I find the courage to this. 

I am at a point in my life where the thing I covet most is happiness. I do not yet consider myself a truly happy man, but in letting all of this go, I hope that I will finally be able to pursue my happiness, my fate, and my life freely and truthfully.

May the Divine Being bless you all.  Long live the King!

Your brother, 

Ibrahim

(Above: The handwritten letter, above, bearing Ibrahim’s signature and monogram was sent to multiple news outlets worldwide.)

The letter bore Ibrahim’s royal monogram, and is now said to be the last official communication sent by His Royal Highness as Crown Prince. No word yet on whether or not the Al-Simharan Royal Family was privy to this decision, or if it was one Ibrahim made privately. 

The Al-Simharan Palace has yet to issue a statement on the matter, but the resignation of their trusty heir is bound to ruffle some feathers. While the vacated “Crown Prince” post will surely be passed on to one of the King’s younger sons, Ibrahim’s departure will almost absolutely leave a gaping hole not just within the Royal Family, but the whole kingdom, as well. 

(Above: File photo of King Phillip, posing with his son and heir, Crown Prince Ibrahim during an official visit to the Al-Simharan National Park a couple of years ago.)

The uncharacteristically personal letter touched on his frustrations, and perhaps more importantly, his heartbreak over his incredibly controversial and-much-publicised break-up with Eleanore a little over a year ago. Signing off as “Your brother” Ibrahim also thanked the Al-Simharan people. He also gave credit for his father, King Phillip, for raising him to be the man he is today. 

Interestingly, the surprise bombshell comes over a month after it was reported that his ex, Eleanore, has introduced a rumoured new boyfriend to her parents, Queen Emilia and Prince Jacques, during Her Majesty’s birthday dinner. 

(Above: Ibrahim was said to be despondent and inconsolable after his father withdrew his consent and ordered the cancellation of his wedding to Eleanore.)

Following the cancellation of his wedding to Eleanore, multiple Al-Simharan sources reported that Ibrahim was ‘incredibly miserable;’ so much so that the he went on a six-month leave of absence from royal duties. After he resumed taking on official engagements some months ago, people were quick to note that the “new” Ibrahim was very different from the fun-loving and seemingly happy Crown Prince they were used to. He seemed more serious and one writer noted that he seemed in a hurry to leave, enough to just “get the job done” during his engagements. To make things even worse, just last month, there were new rumours that King Phillip has picked a handful of potential brides for Ibrahim to choose from. 

Has Ibrahim’s heartbreak finally driven him over the edge? Maybe the fact that Eleanore has moved on - quite seamlessly at that - has motivated him to seek freedom beyond Al-Simhara’s palace walls? Whatever the reason for this decision, we can only hope that Ibrahim finally finds the happiness he so desperately desires.

[fantastic-nonsense]

Reeves' interpretation of Bruce Wayne is a fairly radical departure from Comics!Bruce, but it clearly understands and is in active conversation with him. In my opinion, the movie is trying to move Bruce to a place where he understands what Comics!Bruce understands from the beginning because it feels the need to move the general public to that place as well.

Personally, while I'm not hugely enamored of Pattinson's portrayal of Bruce Wayne, I think the change from "involved but airheaded playboy" to "recluse who really doesn't do much as Bruce Wayne" actually works really well in this movie because it's a change that is ultimately in conversation with the past few decades of non-comics Batman media rather than the comics themselves. It's a characterization choice that is designed to explicitly address and ultimately subvert the tired Twitter hottake that Bruce should be "using his money to help clean up Gotham" instead of dressing up in a Bat suit and "beating up poor people."

Comic readers know Bruce is known for his philanthropy and unending fight against corruption as Bruce Wayne; we understand that he's committed himself to fighting crime both by day and by night, both as Bruce Wayne and Batman. But for people who only know Batman through the big-budget movie space (aka, the 'general movie-going public'), the explicit conversation of "Bruce is rich, what's he doing for Gotham outside of Batman?" hasn't ever really been had outside of some charity galas and throwaway lines about community improvement initiatives.

So the movie asks the same question: "Why aren't you fighting crime as Bruce Wayne, too? Why aren't you helping?"

Reeves' Bruce is a Bruce that is so wholly committed to Batman being the best way to live his life and achieve his goals that he's deliberately neglecting everything else: his father's philanthropic work, his status as Head of Wayne Enterprises, active oversight of the Gotham Renewal Fund, the derelict Wayne Manor-turned-Orphanage, etc. He initially sees no use for the many mechanisms available to him to tackle the sources of crime rather than the symptoms of it, and it's a viewpoint that is directly challenged by the events of the film (first by Selina, then Alfred, then Falcone, and finally by The Riddler).

By the end of the movie, and especially after Bruce's realization that Falcone has only been able to use the Wayne Renewal Fund to fuel Gotham's corruption because of his refusal to oversee it and actively engage with the public, he's clearly changed his mind and realized that it's the wrong way to approach things. He can't just take his anger and trauma out on those around him and call it "saving the city"; he has to be a protector, not just a boogeyman. And part of being Gotham's protector is realizing the power he has as Bruce Wayne that he's been refusing to leverage.

So the answer that Reeves' Bruce ultimately has to the question asked of him is: "I should fight crime as Bruce Wayne too, and I was wrong to think Batman is the only way to improve Gotham."

The Batman successfully moves the general public's narrative of who Bruce is and why he's Batman by explicitly working with the issue of "Bruce neglecting Gotham as Bruce hurts his mission as Batman." And by explicitly addressing it, the movie gets Bruce to the perspective on crime that Comics!Bruce traditionally has from the very beginning, but a perspective we rarely see explicitly showcased in Batman movies (and thus, a perspective casual viewers don't see):

"It's not about fear for me. It's about taking everything I have...all my resources, my abilities, my dedication...and using them to protect those who are most vulnerable."

So now general audiences are able to see (and will hopefully be shown in the sequels) the same Bruce that comic readers have seen and loved for decades: the man who fights for the vulnerable, in whatever form that fight takes.

[savoies]

Things Changed - Pierre Luc Dubois.

Summary: Neighbors to lovers.

Word count: hopefully 1.6k

Warnings: hints of angst, a few bad words, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Since I have a cute new neighbor I thought why not use the neighbors to lovers trope to live out all my fantasies. I had a lot of fun writing this with the help of a few close people so enjoy! (not proofread)

taglist: @hartsyhart​ ​ @nhlpetey​ @mitch-slap​ @frostythegoalman​ @ryanssuzuki​  @aria253264​ ​  @josty​ ​ @kaitieskidmore1​ ​ @kiedhara​ ​ @laurenairay​ ​ @teenagekook​ ​ ​ @alxvlasic​ ​ ​ @hockeyallthetime​ ​ ​ @barzy-baby​ ​ ​ @officialgritty​ ​ @bowenbyram​ ​ @mems06​ ​ ​ @joshsandersons​ ​  @connormcdavo​ @maattamatthews​ ​ @pierreslucdubois​ ​ ​ @selenophileangel​ @boqvistsbabe​ @ana-maa​ @stars-canucks​

tagging some friends: @npatrickz @beauvibaby @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy @2manytabsopen​

(*credit to gif owner*)

Y/N had recently moved to Canada seven months ago and honestly it was going just fine. Nothing major had happened other than wanting a change of pace and well she had gotten it. Well at least the most change her dog and her could get.

Today was a nice day so she decided why not head to the dog park that was connected to the apartment complex and just spend all day there. What she did not suspect was running into a cute stranger who happened to be her neighbor from a few doors down. 

Pierre had come to the dog park well to see the dogs. After the trade from Ohio to Winnipeg he decided that it was best to leave his dogs with his mom until he got settled in. He probably thought that most people would find a broading 6′ 3″ man sitting on a bench creepy but honestly he couldn't care less because the smile the dogs provided him as they ran by was worth the stares.

"Brody! Brody come back here." Y/N yelled as her dog ran across the yard in and around anything he could get through. As her dog ran up to a cute stranger sitting on a bench she couldn't mutter enough curse words to process why this was happening now and today. 

"I am so sorry about him, it's just we don't get out much." She replied and mentally shook her head, not understanding why she had to explain herself to a complete stranger.

"Oh it's totally okay, I love dogs. I actually have two but they are back at home. This might seem kind of straight forward but if you ever need a dog sitter I can offer my services." Pierre smiled at the dog and stranger in front of him.

Y/N knew that she shouldnt take up the offer but with work and life and a cute stranger who seemed actually genuine she threw away mostly all her morals and said why the fuck not.

"Really, that would be really helpful. I'm not sure if I should tell you my apartment number now or after I find out you're a murderer." She looked up at him. After assuring her that he was indeed not a murderer and just a normal guy who loved dogs they traded numbers and apartment info. I guess after all the dog park was worth it.

The First Time.

The first time Pierre earned his title of dog sitter was when you went away for a work conference. It had been three days. Honestly you were quite nervous since you had never really left your dog with anyone other than your family but after hanging out with him so often you felt like it was okay.

"Brody say bye to your mom, we are gonna have so much fun without her huh." He said as he led Brody into the living room and waited for you to give any special instructions.

"Pierre thank you so much for doing this. I want him the same way as when I left him." You hugged him as you said your goodbyes and gathered your things to head off to the airport for your departure. 

"Have some faith in me Y/N." He said as he closed the door and watched netflix with the dog cuddling into his side. 

The Second Time.

A family emergency had presented itself and as much as you wanted to take Brody with you you just knew it wasn't the best choice. Pierre had come over a few times to "spend time with Brody." Even though most of the time was spent joking around and talking about each other's week.

You had got the call when Pierre was over. Both of you sprawled out on the cold tiled floor. "Hello?" You answered as someone quickly informed you on what was going on. "Wait what, uhm yeah I'll go back home right now." You said as you hung up and quickly sprang up to your feet to pack.

"Pierre I know you're busy and you can say no but can you watch Brody, a family emergency has come up." You spoke hastily.

"Yeah of course, everything ok?" He asked worried.

"No but hopefully soon." You gave him a soft smile as you said your goodbyes and rushed out your apartment door.

The Third Time.

The third time was different. Not necessarily an emergency but mostly a way to make sure that your dog was okay for a few hours. Or at least not alone and spending it with one of his favorite people aside from you. You had gone out to a club with some coworkers and had dropped off Brody at Pierres earlier in the day. Of course you asked if he was busy and he said he had to catch up on some work so that's the only reason you really asked him to. You knew he had a life aside from your dog sitting escapades. 

Later on in the night as you arrived home with a guest you had asked him to wait by the door as you went to go pick up Brody from a few doors down. It was late and maybe you should have just done it in the morning.  But your mind being hazy with the few drinks from earlier didn't think about Pld being asleep and you knocked before you could stop yourself.

Pierre was slowly drifting off to sleep with thoughts of you in his head. How he had to adapt to this new city which he barely knew anything about but since you had come into his life everything seemed somewhat easier. 

There was a soft knock on his door and as he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes he walked up to the door with Brody close by to his feet and he saw you. "Y/N hey what are you doing here?" He asked confused on why you were here at one in the morning.

"Just here to pick up Brody." You smiled at him as he looked towards your apartment and his smile dropped as he saw the random dude standing in front of your door awkwardly. 

 He knew he shouldn't be making a big deal out of it. You guys weren't anything in the first place. But Pierre couldn't help what he felt towards you.

"You okay?" He asked before letting you head back.

"Yeah, I'll see you soon." You said as you walked away. 

After that things weren't the same. You could sense it. After getting the stranger out your bed you cleaned up and headed over to Pierres for your weekly brunch hang out but he didn't answer. That wasn't what made you realize that it wasn't the same. I mean you knew he had a busy life. Maybe it was the way that every time there was a knock on your door you were hoping it was Pierre hoping to "hang out with Brody" but it never was.

Or maybe it was that he was ignoring you. It had been a week since you had last seen him and as you walked to the elevator you tried to rack your mind with what you could've done to upset him.

As you reached the elevator there stood the boy that you so much wanted to see. Pierre rolled his eyes as you arrived, having deliberately been avoiding you for a full week and bumping into you in the only place he couldn't escape.

Y/N looked up at him hoping that he would talk. Hoping that somehow he would reveal why he was mad or at least why he was ignoring her.

"So it seems like you were just using me as a dog sitter huh.” Pierre broke the silence. He was feeling so many emotions seeing the person that made him feel good about himself. 

"What, Dubois what are you talking about?" Y/N looked up at him confused on why he would even think that. Cause honestly it did start like that but after that it grew into a friendship that she was so thankful for.

 Pierre just scoffed thinking of what he would say next. "The dude you brought back to your apartment."

"What about him?" Y/N asked.

"Look when i offered to be your dog sitter i didn't think it was for bringing guys around." 

"Look Pierre i don't mean this to sound rude at all but when you offered you said it was for whenever i needed a dog sitter and i brought Brody over because I thought you liked spending time with him. And honestly the guy is a one time thing.” Y/N spoke up suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable recalling the events from last night to her not so stranger anymore cute neighbor.

 "I do love dogs, honestly spending time with him was nice but why do you think I always came over to hang out with Brody?" He asked putting air quotes around hanging out. Then it clicked in Y/Ns mind. Him coming over more than two times a week, him ignoring her after her unfortunate night with a stranger, them now spilling their guts to each other in an elevator. He liked her. At least she hoped that she was right and was not about to make a dumb mistake.

"Oh." escaped from her mouth. As the door opened and Pierre smiled at Y/N waiting for somewhat of a reaction other than oh. 

"Pierre I've always been bad at reading signs so I'm really hoping that I'm reading the correct sign right now. Uhm would you like to maybe come over later, you know to hang out with Brody?" You asked as you put air quotes around hanging out with Brody like he had down earlier.

"I thought you'd never ask." He replied before placing a kiss on your cheek leaving you with a small smile on your face.

[joyce-neltora-delly]

My Neverhood lore

When you take a bad concept from when you were 13 and remake it. I like the backstory but I dunno if it makes sense to you - I´m not a writer.

But as @gweniala said, a character is nothing without at least of a short story.

THE BACKSTORY

Some time has passed after Klayman has saved The Neverhood from the Evil Engine No 9. Hoborg creates more sons and daughters. One of them is a Hoodian named Klaytain. He seems nice at first but he´s intrigued by the crown just like Klogg, however, he feels like he shouldn´t mess with its owner for some reason. He wonders why does Hoborg have it on his head the whole time. He comes to a conclusion that it´s connected with his life, without it, he´s lifeless unless the crown returns to his head.

One day, Hoborg makes a mistake by mentioning Klogg. Klaytain starts to wonder why Hoborgs´ firstborn isn´t on the Neverhood. Hoborg, being naive again, tells him why he was banished and that he died some time ago. He also tells him that he must never put his crown on his head or else he´ll get corrupted. Klaytain sees this as an opportunity to get the crown albeit for different reasons than Klogg, he thinks that he´s special and he wont become corrupted, because he´s a pure being, more thougtful,and no one can compare. He sneaks into the castle and steals Hoborgs´ crown.

But crown doesn´t choose and he becomes corrupted. He becomes even more arrogant and full of himself. He wants to prove everyone how „pure“ he is. Klaytain renames himself to Dentain, as to cut ties with, in his opinion, naive Hoborg and mindless Hoodians. He thinks that Hoodians have no self awareness, that there are like sheep, who only like mundane stuff like fun etc.

But, Neverhood isn´t empty anymore. He gets noticed by Starkin, one of Hoborgs´ sons and a big admirer of Klayman. Starkin calls others, they catch Dentain and return the crown to Hoborg.

Hoborgs knows he won´t repeat the same mistake as with Klogg so he banishes Dentain from the Neverhood.

During his banishment, he stumbles upon planet Idznak. He knows that Skullmonkeys are dumb, because he read the whole Hall of Records. He creates a fake crown and impersonates Arven.

He manipulates all the Skullmonkeys, Ynts and Victoids into thinking that Hoborg plans to invade Idznak and turn it into a colony that exploits its population. Their plan? To manipulate Hoodians so they unwillingly become slaves on Idznak, steal crown from Hoborg and make a ghost town out of the Neverhood.

Jerry-O sees all of this and warns The Neverhood but it´s too late. Dentains´ army has already departured with technology that was built from Kloggs sketches that Dentain found on Idznak.

However, Dentain has a trick up his sleeve. He says to the Hoodians that he came to free them from the prison that is Neverhood. „There is a vast universe to be explored and you´d rather waste your time here?“ he says. He tells them that Hoborg is actually a tyrant that controls the whole land. „He can create anything, right? Stuff you´ll fall in love with or make your lives happier. But what if you become boring for him? He can easily destroy you and create better life forms and world. He sees all of you as toys. He created this world deliberately small so he can control all of you and do what he wants. Because this is his world, after all.“

Then, he tells Hoodians that he came to take them to his new world, where he will respect them and let them explore. He promises that they´ll be free.

Hoborg denies this fact and says that he simply didn´t have enough clay to create a big world he originally dreamed to build.

But the damage has already been done. Almost no one has read the whole Hall of Records, let alone the Hoborg part, because it was so long. Hoodians start to notice details like why does Hoborg live in a distant castle, at the edge of The Neverhood? Does he have something to hide? Why doesn´t he live with them?

Then the Hoodians are given a choice to stay or to go but Dentain knows this is only a cover-up.Most of them leave because they get manipulated. The whole mob steals Hoborgs´ crown and give it to Dentain because they think he should be the rightful ruler and creator.

Klayman and Starkin are worried. They plead for others to return but are dismissed as traitors. The only Hoodian who stays with them is Nellil, Starkins´ girlfriend.

Back on Idznak, Hoodians realize they´ve been tricked and become slaves to Dentain and other creatures.

Jerry-O´s message finally reaches the Neverhood. Starkin realizes the truth. He gets skeptical at first, since what if Dentains´ claims were true but is quickly calmed by Klayman who assures him that he knows the truth, since he read the Hall of Records with Nellil and the Hall only writes about things that actually happened.

And so, Starkin, Klayman and Nellil embark on a journey to save all the Hoodians. Will they defeat Dentain and other creatures, retrieve the crown to Hoborg and convince others to return to the Neverhood?

GAMEPLAY CONCEPT

- puzzles, platforming, RPG battles at the end of the level

- Level Up with every saved Hoodian

- character change

Klayman = puzzle segments, defense type

Starkin = platforming segments, attack type

Nellile = helper/tutorial character (Omochao/Tikal type), support type

Dentain = final boss

OC SHORT BIO

Dentain = (ENTP) arrogant, selfish, manipulative, delusional,

Starkin = (ENFJ) heroic, optimistic, brave, curious, intelligent

Nellil = (ESFJ) considerate, helpful, intelligent,

BIO ART COMING SOON

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 3

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

Word Count: Ch 3 - 1637

In case you missed it: Chapter 2 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 3

One month is not enough time to get used to nights in the bunker, she thinks as she stares at the back of Dean’s door. It’s too sterile, too unnatural, with the quiet permeating every crevice and recess.

There must be some sort of muffling spell or noise cancellation technology… or maybe just really good insulation. She’s used to the chatter of customers, the ding of the door chime, the clatter of plates, and the sloshing of the dishwasher. She’s never had to listen to herself think this much before, and she freely admits she is not a fan.

It’s been about four hours since Dean stormed out. “I’m done,” he said, but she doubts she’ll have to wait much longer. Those last words he shouted before Castiel came in, the way he gripped her and she had to force herself not to cling right back, tells her they aren’t finished, either with their argument or each other.

Muffled footsteps, the only sound besides her heart beat and non-stop internal monologue, let her know moments before the doorknob turns that Dean is back. The door swings open, not with the angry force she’s expecting, but with the same weary resignation that bows his shoulders as he steps into his room and shrugs off his jacket.

His eyes meet hers for an eternity, then he deliberately takes two more steps forward and closes the door firmly behind him.

She’s in his arms without a moment’s hesitation, her mouth on his, devouring him with every bit of desperation she possesses. He tastes of scotch, and she can picture him sitting despondently at the local watering hole, glaring balefully at a single glass of liquor for hours.

His arms constrict automatically until she’s equally breathless from his embrace as she is from the kiss. Just when she thinks he may have to physically hold her up, Dean pulls away just far enough to stare hard into her eyes, his expression daring her to challenge his next words.

“We are not done talking. You are going to tell me every detail of your deal, whether you like it or not. And don’t think for a second I’m going to let you go through with it. Choices be damned, Andy, this isn’t just about you anymore, and you know it.”

She refrains from telling him how much of a dad vibe he’s giving off as she shoves his flannel from his shoulders and pulls his face back to hers, clenching a handful of his t-shirt in a death grip.

Neither of them is gentle as they remove clothing and stagger their way to his bed; she knows they don’t have the time to be, and he suspects as much but doesn’t say so aloud. Neither is willing to ruin their precious remaining moments together by bringing up something as distasteful as reality. Nails score flesh, fingers bruise limbs, even their lips come away with faint traces of blood from accidental clashes with teeth.

“How long?” he rasps, his lips ghosting over her sternum. Her nails dredge shallow furrows across the backs of his thighs as he pulls back before thrusting hard, driving her into his mattress. “How long have we got?”

She tugs his mouth down to her breast, hissing as his teeth scrape and tug. Her fingers thread into his hair, holding him in place, silently willing him to let the subject go. She can’t answer him. She’s had a month with him, and while she’d rather have something closer to a lifetime, all she’s asking now is two more uninterrupted, untainted hours.

If she tells him, then the shortness of their time becomes real, everything becomes devastatingly real. Here in the bunker that is far too quiet for her own peace of mind, she can pretend the outside world and all it’s insane occultists and apocalypses and demons and deals don’t exist. She can pretend it’s just her and Dean, and nothing else bad is waiting on the other side of the horizon.

And he’d try to stop her. And probably succeed. So, no. She can’t tell him.

It’s some time before both of them are sated enough to lie relatively still. She keeps her back to him, knowing if she looks in his eyes she is liable to spill every bit of information she has left, and she does not want a repeat of the scene from earlier. Once was more than enough.

“I’m waiting, Andy.”

We all have to learn to live with disappointment, hun, she thinks. Aloud, she sighs and pushes herself back until her shoulder blades press against his chest. She’s been cold since they first brought her to the bunker, and his warmth is almost enough to make her forget that she’s chilled to her marrow. She shivers, forcing a partition up in her mind to keep out thoughts of her impending departure. She’s going to wait until he’s asleep, then head out to make the last rendezvous.

Sunrise, Dean, she thinks, despite her best efforts. I’ve got til sunrise. We’ve got less than that.

Luckily, she’s had enough caffeine to give a draft horse the shakes, and he’s running on three hours sleep for the last couple of days, so he should pass out pretty soon. The last thing she needs is the infamous Winchester Interference with her plans.

With the confidence that comes from knowing she’s right at the end of everything, Andy rolls over and pulls Dean’s head down so his cheek rests between her breasts, cradling him like a child and stroking his hair just as she’s longed to do since he strolled into her diner and winked at her over a stack of pancakes. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t even pretend to resist, instead nuzzling deeper in her embrace, and that’s when she really knows she’s wounded him far more deeply than she should have been capable.

“It was only supposed to be a fling,” she remarks to the top of his head as she runs her nails over the base of his skull. He shivers, pulling the blanket over them up to his chin and sliding his arms around her waist. His shoulder lies on her stomach, its weight sitting comfortably against her belly. “The first time I met you, you declared your love for me because I brought you bacon, for God’s sake. At four in the afternoon. You were supposed to be a good time, Dean, one good night, and then ride on out of town like a good boy.”

“You’d already be dead if you hadn’t given me your number,” he points out. For once, his lascivious nature is dormant, and he doesn’t so much as sneak a stray lick or grope, despite his optimal position. She strokes her thumb down the side of his jaw, scrubbing over several days’ worth of stubble that covers his cheeks. He turns his face into her touch, sliding his nose against the sensitive skin under her breast, and then it’s her turn to shiver.

“Andy, before you do anything stupid, anything else stupid, I need to tell you...I need you to know that I...”

“No, you don’t,” she chides, cutting him off before he can choke out any more ill-advised words. She can’t hear them right now, they would break down every barrier and barricade she’s constructed to hold herself together for these last hours. And, anyway, he can’t possibly mean them. They barely know each other. “But you could. I think both of us might have, eventually. So, we have that, at least.”

Her ribs creak at the sudden tightening of his grip, and she squirms until he relents enough to allow her breathing to return to normal.

“It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

His words end on something that she would never in a thousand years tell him sounds like a crack. She silently strokes the velvety hairs on the back of his neck, waiting for him to finish clearing his throat.

“Don’t try to be the hero; it never works out for anyone involved, even the people you’re trying to save.”

“Don’t start with me, Dean Winchester. Here we are, having a nice moment, and I will not let you ruin the time we have left with arbitrary things like depth and honesty.”

The air system hisses soothingly in the background, but she won’t let herself be soothed. This time left is for him, she’s not fooling herself about that any longer. What does she have left but Dean, anyway? She’s got three, four hours left at the most, and this is how she chooses to spend them.

She rolls once more, pulling Dean underneath her until she lies atop him, flush from collarbone to ankles. He watches her, his face soft and open for once, golden and warm in the dim light of the little bedside lamp. His hands move slowly, reverently, to glide over the curve of her jaw and mouth, and she can feel the faint tremors that run through his hands. She kisses his fingers one at a time before lifting her eyes to his.

“No, you don’t,” she repeats, “But you could.” The world needs the Winchesters around a hell of a lot more than it needs her. And while she might make people happy, saving people and hunting things is the Winchesters’ family business. This is her only chance to make sure they and the world stick around long enough for that to keep happening. ...

Chapter 4

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc. 

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful. 

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either. 

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”  

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice. 

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all. 

“You’re worried about something.” 

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you. 

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?” 

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.” 

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...” 

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” 

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?” 

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile: 

“I feel… light.” 

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…” 

“Is that a good thing?”  

He grins, “I think so.” 

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.” 

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.” 

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.  

“Mark? What are you—?” 

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Oh. I’m sure.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.” 

“What are you even talking about, Mark?” 

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.” 

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften. 

You shake your head, “Mark, I—” 

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?” 

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—” 

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!” 

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—” 

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.” 

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage: 

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!” 

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.” 

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings. 

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?” 

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.” 

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between. 

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else. 

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control. 

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul. 

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely. 

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven. 

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him. 

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’ 

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features. 

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat. 

“What the hell is going on!?” 

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye. 

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?” 

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!” 

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?” 

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.” 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble. 

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?” 

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—” 

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?” 

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent. 

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.” 

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.” 

“And look where that got them.” 

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?” 

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring: 

“I’m over talking it out.” 

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin. 

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise. 

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry. 

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.” 

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion: 

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.” 

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?” 

“One hundred percent.” 

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell. 

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!” 

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?” 

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—” 

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!” 

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.” 

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!” 

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.” 

“Changbin, don’t—!” 

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again. 

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones. 

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body. 

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern. 

“How do you feel?...” 

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.” 

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu. 

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all. 

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me. 

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew.  I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral. 

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith. 

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf. 

He never did build that church. 

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.” 

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.” 

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.” 

“Careful there. You sound like me.” 

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum: 

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).” 

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?” 

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.” 

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?” 

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink. 

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.” 

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?” 

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?” 

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?” 

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?” 

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games. 

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.” 

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.” 

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.” 

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?” 

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.” 

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.” 

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?” 

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.” 

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!” 

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?” 

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.” 

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.” 

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.” 

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?” 

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.” 

“Is he always this much of an asshole?” 

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.” 

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.” 

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.” 

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.” 

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.” 

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you. 

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?” 

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!” 

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face. 

Not again… 

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs. 

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—” 

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.” 

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—” 

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft. 

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes. 

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off. 

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door. 

“Come on! We gotta go!” 

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you: 

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.” 

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now. 

“I can’t protect you right now—” 

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!” 

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!” 

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker. 

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet. 

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness. 

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull. 

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?” 

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor. 

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose. 

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong. 

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead: 

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!” 

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy. 

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…” 

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.” 

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat. 

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold. 

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!” 

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality: 

“Did I… Did I kill him?” 

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.” 

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” 

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…”  He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other. 

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Old Habits, New Reasons

Summary: Three times in which Namine shies away from social functions just to draw, and the one time someone joined her. [oneshot][character study][NamiXi if you really wanna squint][also Namiku if you squint a little less]

Rating: K

Word Count: 3,469 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

Their question had thrown Namine off slightly. She sheepishly looked down at her small sketchbook as if it could answer the question for her. The white page stared back at her in silence.

A part of Namine knew this would happen eventually. There was always that fear that someone would follow her, ask her what she was doing, and then tell her to rejoin the others. But that wasn't what they were asking, was it? They wanted to know why she was drawing. It was a simple question, and it was a bit odd that someone would have lugged a caboodle of art supplies with them to a banquet.

"Well?" the other girl asked. "Is there someone who would get mad you're drawing, even if you did it around your friends?"

"I don't think so." Namine decided, slowly. "But sometimes... it's just easier to draw without other people around you. And sometimes, when people find out that you're good at something, they make you do that something for them. It's not very fun."

"Do you always leave to draw, though?"

At first, Namine wanted to disagree with all her heart. But in introspection, it was more of a vice than she cared to admit. She loved drawing, but didn't like others watching her as she did it. When did that happen, she wondered. That didn't used to be the case...

"Sometimes." Namine finally said. She held her sketchbook a bit tighter before adding, "But only on certain occasions."

"Like?"

Namine looked over at the other girl with curiosity. She was greeted with a look just as inquisitive as her own. Maybe even more so. There was a genuine interest; that much was certain. Maybe there was a budding artist in their midst?

"Well..." she carefully said, moving her sketchbook a bit to flip through the earlier pages, "There was this one time..."

. . .

It was a small comfort that, while she wasn't a Keyblade wielder herself, the others considered her when they all got together. She still made sure that her presence didn't disturb anyone. Being quiet and observant was Namine's most reliable vice. That, and drawing. There wasn't much else she knew how to do. Her time as a Nobody barely ranged a year, and after that she was placed safely inside Kairi's heart until recently. Being a Somebody was... confusing, to say the least.

Being asked to join in on a slumber party with Kairi and Xion had been a surprise- perhaps even more so because Master Aqua herself gave her the invitation. Namine certainly didn't expect it to take place in the Land of Departure either. The world seemed far too grand to her -far too important in the history of Keyblade wielders- that it could be used for anything beyond a training arena. She was proven wrong after entering the Great Hall with Kairi. Aqua had given them a spot in front of the thrones, already decorated with sleeping bags for all four of them and a small assortment of snacks.

"I've never got to have a proper slumber party before, since it was me and Terra for most of our childhoods." Aqua admitted at some point. "Feels weird having one with you guys now. I feel like a mom."

It was Xion who, without skipping a beat, cheerfully declared, "And you're the best one I'll never have!"

"Xion!" both Aqua and Kairi declared, each with their own level of bewilderment. Namine only offered a stifled laugh. So proud at their reactions, Xion gave them all a smile so big, it almost rivaled Sora's.

After that, they started to talk about various things since they all met together. Apparently everyone's training was going rather well. Kairi was beginning to get a handle of second tier elemental magic, while Xion was working on personal techniques on and off for the past week. It was around this time that Namine politely excused herself from the others. They had been so caught up in their conversation that they didn't even notice.

Namine went to where she and Kairi had placed their personal things to find her caboodle. The caboodle was a neat little box with drawers that opened the same time she opened the lid. She was able to put all her art supplies in it. Most of them, anyway- her normal sketchbook was too large to fit. Instead, she used a smaller pad that was placed where the mirror in the caboodle was. Once Namine made sure she had everything, she carefully found a spot far enough away from the others so she could draw them. It honestly wasn't very far, but it was still far enough away that the other three didn't really notice her. That was fine. If anything, it was perfect.

The sounds of the others almost masked the sound of her pencil against paper. Spending most of her life locked away with nothing but drawing to distract her gave Namine a slight skill in speed drawing. However, she took her time when she started to work on her friends. She wanted as much detail as she could.

But she didn't bother to sketch her own sleeping bag. She tried to tell herself that it was because it ruined the composition. But deep down she knew it was because she didn't fit with the others, and so it didn't need to be included.

Namine finished her drawing without the others ever knowing she was gone. She placed everything back in her caboodle, then went back as Kairi went into a long story about Tidus and Wakka back on the islands. It was nice; the sounds of friendship. Namine had been the first to go to sleep that night.

. . .

At first, the only response she got was a quiet, "Oh..."

"It was a really fun time!" Namine quickly insisted. "And it really was a treat to be included."

"But you drew yourself out."

Namine flinched slightly. "It worked out better that way. From the angle I was at, it would have looked weird because I had the really light sleeping bag, and everything was so dark anyway..."

The other girl only looked more guilty.

"Do you still have the picture?" she wondered.

"I think so." Namine agreed. She adjusted herself so she could better go through her sketchbook before flipping through the earlier pages. "Here," she then offered as she handed it over.

There was a small hum as the other ran her fingers over the drawing. Namine had made deliberate choices in lighting around the three Keyblade wielders- light coming off of them as if they were lighting up the whole room. If you looked ever closer, you could see the detail of the castle's floor, and even make out the silhouettes of the three thrones in the background.

"Does anyone know that you go somewhere away from everyone to draw?" the other girl asked, handing the sketchbook back to Namine.

Namine gave a fond, almost bashful smile.

"There is someone..."

. . .

"There's a lot of people here." Namine noted as she tried to look over the crowd. Riku wasn't making the same amount of effort. Instead, he just casually looked on with a hand at his hip. Curse him being a full head taller than she was.

"Aqua said that Disney Town holds the Dream Festival every year." Riku agreed with a small nod. "Can't be that easy since Queen Minnie has almost been reigning the kingdom alone for the past few years. The effort is definitely amazing though."

Namine agreed with a nod and a small noise of affirmation. Disney Town looked absolutely splendid for the festival. All the colors, and the smells, and the energy was enough to put anyone in a good mood. The grip Namine had on her caboodle tightened slightly. A frown crossed her lips as she considered that there might have been too much commotion. There wasn't a good place to just sit and zone out without some kind of noise maker going off.

Riku must have noticed this. He looked over at her, and quickly saw her firm grip on the caboodle's handle.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave that in the Gummi Ship?" he asked. He even made a mild gesture to the box, which only made Namine hold it closer to her.

"No. I'm going to use it." Namine insisted. "I just... I just need someplace a bit more quiet..."

Riku nodded. He looked up again to see that Queen Minnie had taken the stage. The queen looked as beautiful as always in her formal pink and red ballgown. The jewels on her crown glittered under the multicolored overhead lights. Everyone cheered at seeing her- the love and admiration they had for their leader was enough to be felt from miles away. Minnie was a good queen, there was no contest about that.

As Minnie tried to settle the crowd down so she could speak, Riku bent down a bit to quietly tell Namine something.

"There's a sewage grate somewhere behind us. If you take it, there's a gizmo that will lead you up to one of the buildings overlooking the racetrack. Don't know about you, but a good aerial shot might be something to capture for later."

Namine grinned. "Thank you Riku." she said before giving him a small peck on his cheek. The young Keyblade master's face gleamed with a humble blush as he stood tall again, almost as if he had never moved at all. Namine laughed a bit at it before leaving.

Finding, and getting into, the grate had not been an issue. It did take her awhile to navigate the gizmo, though. But it was all worth it once she got to the top of a particular building. Namine let out a soft 'Oh...' of wonder as she sat down near the edge facing the racetrack. Riku was right- this was a good place to work. If only she was able to use larger sketch paper in her travelling kit.

When she was finished, Namine very quickly tried to find Riku again. She shouted his name after spotting him. He barely had time to turn around before she proudly displayed her new drawing to him.

"Do you think Queen Minnie will like it?" she asked, rather breathlessly.

Riku looked at her before looking down at the drawing. He put on a wide smile before telling her, "She's going to love it. It's perfect."

. . .

That story had brought about a rather brighter mood in the other girl.

"Did Queen Minnie like the drawing?" she asked. "You did give it to her after the festival, right?"

A sense of pride welled in Namine's heart, leading her to sit a bit straighter. "She loved it." she grinned. "She immediately had the brooms take it to the gallery to be expanded and mounted. You should have seen the look on Riku's face. He was as proud as I was, and probably more surprised!"

"I could only imagine." the other girl laughed. "Oh!" she then said, "Have you ever gone someplace with a view so nice that you just couldn't replicate it no matter how hard you tried? It's hard to recreate any atmosphere, in my opinion. I wanna know if you ever tried to as well."

Namine let out a soft hum as she thought about it. She let out a small noise of realization when it came to her.

"I did once before, yes." she agreed. "Since Kairi's parents don't mind me staying with them, I was able to join her, Riku, Wakka, Tidus, and Selphie to a beach party they had. It was still summer vacation, if I remember correctly. And Tidus really wanted to have a girls versus boys match..."

. . .

"Head's up!" Tidus shouted before serving the volleyball over the net.

"Cheater!" Selphie shouted back as Kairi managed to spike the ball back. Tidus only gave a rather sinister cackle back. However, at that point, no one was able to break their concentration just to smack talk each other.

Namine watched as Kairi and Selphie worked against Tidus and Riku in a rather well matched volleyball tourney. Wakka wasn't too far away- he had lost a bet earlier and had to make food for everyone. The smell of pineapples and fish hung in the air. It was the warmth of the midday sun that Namine loved the most. The feeling enveloped its way around her like a comforting hug. She let out a soft sigh as she got a bit more comfortable.

The sudden urge to draw made her fingers twitch.

This wasn't a good spot for it, though. She was too close to the others for anything but sand to get onto the paper than color. As much as she loved watching the volleyball match, it was still a bit too distracting. Namine started to get up and casually looked around for a better spot to draw. It didn't take long for her eyes to train to a crow's nest not far from the shore. It was part of a large treehouse that seemed to encompass the island. She looked back at her friends for a moment before quietly leaving them. If anyone noticed she was going, they certainly didn't question her about it.

After getting herself situated at the higher point, Namine found herself gaping at the scene below her. Her friends happily playing on the beach, the light reflections off the water, and even the island holding the paopu tree providing a view so beautiful, so rich, that she wasn't even aware that she was opening her caboodle at first. Seeing the Destiny Islands through Sora's heart was nothing compared to the real thing. Was it possible just to freeze time here and let everything else wash away? She smiled a bit to herself. She did have a way to freeze time, in a way.

The only unfortunate thing was that she wouldn't be able to capture it all. She couldn't encapsulate the smell of the sea, or the sounds of Tidus demanding the girls had leverage over him for some reason. She gave a small smile as she continued to work. Most of her effort was spent trying to reflect the sea around them. A certain impatience came over her as she carefully did each detail. You always had to start with the big stuff, then go down smaller. She was just so eager to capture this moment, anyway she could, that she was always picturing this drawing when it was done.

Namine had to force herself to stop after an hour. Her hands were starting to hurt, and her stomach was growling for food. She cracked her knuckles, barely relieving the tension in them, before putting her stuff away. There would always be time to clean the picture up later. For now, she needed to rejoin her friends.

. . .

And so, we were brought back to our initial setting- the banquet in Radiant Garden.

Namine had thought at first that this would be the perfect opportunity to work on drawing food. But the actual banquet itself had a lot more activity than she was anticipating. There were too many people at the tables to have space to stand at for a few minutes, and she had tried to get a plate for herself to take elsewhere- the allure of delectable aromas wouldn't let her go far without wolfing everything down. So she decided to get a higher view.

To her luck, there was a balcony overlooking the main area. It wasn't blocked off or anything, so Namine quietly crept her way to the top. She found a place to carefully overlook the area and found herself at awe. Even if she was aware that someone was behind her, she probably wouldn't have known it at first.

"Namine!" a voice suddenly said in surprise. Namine jumped a good foot before turning her attention to the newcomer. She relaxed a little when she found it was just Xion.

"Xion..." the blonde girl sighed. "It's just you."

"Am I interrupting you? I'm sorry. I'm not interested in food, and the boys are really going at it, so I really wanted to do this writing exercise where you describe an atmosphere, and..."

"No, no, no. You're fine." Namine insisted. She moved her stuff a bit before gesturing for Xion to sit down next to her. "Here," she offered, "Sit next to me. The view is nice from this area."

Xion smiled in thanks before carefully sitting down. She looked out over the balcony and gasped.

"You're right, this is a good view!" Xion marveled. Her eyes expanding in wonder. "This is the perfect place for Ebba to plant a listening device onto an enemy!"

"Ebba?" Namine wondered. "Who's Ebba?"

At Namine's confusion, Xion's face lit up in a deep scarlet.

"She's my... I think Pence called it 'self-insert.' It's a character that's based on me, but sometimes has a few differences. I've based most of the stories I write on stuff I did in the Organization. It's helped a lot with trying to cope with it. You know?"

Namine shrunk a little. "Yeah..." she agreed in a tiny voice.

"But it's real fun too!" Xion told her, trying to divert the heavy topic a bit. "I base everyone in story with someone in real life! You should see the guy I based on Xemnas... I do a lot of mean things to him."

Namine let out a small chuckle. But then a thought occurred to her.

"You based the characters in your story on us?"

"Of course I did!" she happily declared, her blush growing a bit, besides. "Roxas is Lucas, Master Aqua is head knight Meikai, I even have Pluto as the brave pup Mercury!"

"Do... Do you have someone based on me?"

Xion paused for a moment. Her face going still. However, just as quickly, her smile came back as wide as ever.

"Not yet, but I can!" she decided. She hummed a bit as she thought it over some more. "But I don't have to if you don't want to. I think I'll call her... Syrena."

"Syrena..." Namine hummed in thought. She then gave a bright smile in appreciation. "I like it."

"Great!" Xion beamed. She let out a rather contented sigh before asking, "What about you? Why did you come here?" She looked down at Namine's sketchpad and art supplies for a moment then added, "Did you come all this way just to draw?"

After some hesitation, Namine told her. Carefully, and in her own time. Xion listened intently- only asking questions when Namine was done relating a certain day. When the subject came back around to where they were, Xion seemed to understand much better.

"I get it now." she said.

"You do?" Namine wondered.

Xion gave a thoughtful little nod before explaining, "It's easier for you to draw when it's more quiet. That was how it was before. I think it's great that you're still drawing, even though you started because you were held hostage by the Organization. But the Organization didn't give you the skill you have, Namine. That’s all your own. Kinda like how writing is my special thing. We have ways to just... be ourselves, you know? It's comforting. It's like knowing that, even though we didn't start out in this world with our own goals or ideals, we can make them on our own now. We're free now, Namine. Free to do whatever we want."

Namine absently hugged her sketchbook. "I like that thought." she admitted. "I never really saw it that way before, either. Drawing is something that I know I can do. Something that won't harm others. But you are right- it's what makes me... me. Thank you."

Xion grinned. A wide, bright grin that could have lit up a room. It gave Namine an idea.

"What does Ebba look like?" she questioned, at the same time she pulled out one of her sketching pencils. "Does she look just like you, or are there a lot of differences?"

There was a moment of confusion on Xion's face, then a bright flicker of joy. Not a second after, she burst into a long babble about her character. She even used her arms to illustrate certain concepts and mannerisms. Namine laughed, and did her best to keep up. Xion was so passionate about her characters- it almost made Namine jealous. For the next few hours, Namine did a blend of Xion's idea for Ebba, while Xion herself got to writing about how Ebba got to meet a new acquaintance; a mysterious girl named Syrena, who -while mostly shy- was very well loved.

[phoenixfeathersinfall]

The Dax Debacle: Re-Imagining S7 of “Star Trek Deep Space Nine”

*This post came about after a few discussions with Lee @creativilee on how the stories of Jadzia and Ezri could have been adapted to better serve both of those characters and respect the work of both actresses! Thanks to them for all their help, encouragement, and serving as a springboard! Anything in italics is theirs!

For all of us DS9 fans, the finale season can be rather fraught for several reasons, many of the biggest revolving around the transition from Jadzia Dax to Ezri Dax, henceforth called “The Dax Debacle.” Many folks seem to love one and hate the other, which is a huge shame because both characters brought amazing potential and storylines to the table, but the writers really fumbled in some key aspects. This sure-to-be-long-winded meta is an attempt between myself and Lee to fix some of those fumbles and give both characters the storylines they deserved. So, let’s get to it!

First, a little behind-the scenes context.

Why Two Dax-es?

To begin with, it’s important to acknowledge that the Dax Debacle was largely unplanned, and the writing often reflects the ways in which Nicole de Boer was shoehorned in as Terry Ferrell’s replacement, just as the character of Ezri was deliberately put forward as Jadzia’s replacement as the next host of Dax. What happened?

It is widely believed, based on various interviews Terry gave during the show’s run, that the set of DS9 was inhospitable to her, placing her in situations of harassment and abuse. By the time of S7, due to this as well as the sheer grueling schedule of the show, she wanted to be moved from a permanent member of the cast into a reoccurring role like that of Andrew Robinson. When it proved fruitless to negotiate this, Terry decided to leave the show, though she explicitly stated she had not wanted Jadzia’s character to be killed on her departure.

Though the writers went through with the decision to kill Jadzia, they still wanted the character of Dax to remain on the crew, and due to the way Trill physiology was designed, they decided to do this with another host, similar to how Jadzia was initially seen as the continuation of Sisko’s old friend Curzon.

Enter Nicole de Boer as Ezri Dax, a young unjoined Trill who had never intended to be a host at all, and the story of her adjustment to carrying on the Dax legacy.

The Story’s Seed

It’s definitely worth noting that the initial conception of Ezri’s story, the young suddenly-joined Trill joined under trying circumstances who has to re-discover herself has a lot of potential! It could have been extremely poignant and moving, in something of the same vein as Seven of Nine rediscovering herself on “Voyager.” Unfortunately, the choices made regarding how she became the next Dax make it hard to appreciate Ezri on her own merits. Both we as the audience and the other characters are constantly seeing Jadzia in her place. It stymied who she was able to be as a character and how the audience was able to receive her. The way she was written invites constant comparisons, often to Ezri’s detriment in her initial interactions with the crew.

Lee said some things extremely well here: “Ezri as a character was hindered a lot by being made ‘Jadzia's replacement’ instead of ‘the next Dax,’ a Dax in her own right. While Jadzia definitely had Curzon's legacy to live with, it was absolutely not all she was, and she interacted with it as such, but Ezri wasn’t written with the same care. She isn't ‘Ezri Dax’ she's ‘Ezri, the one who replaced Jadzia.’ She was entirely written as a replacement, and it shows.”

Fumbles, Fumbles, Fumbles

Let’s review some things that went sideways in Ezri’s arc, so we can see it for the purposes of our rewrite.

The “I'm the new host of your dead friends symbiont" aspect is very difficult to watch. It’s hard to say if the writers wanted to lean into this aspect deliberately, but even if they did, I don’t think they ended up hitting the emotional notes they wanted to.

Ezri doesn’t seem to get much training from what we can tell, and being joined is a huge change! We learned from Jadzia’s arc that initiates often train for years. It’s wartime, but she still really did get thrown into the deep end!

The audience can’t approach Ezri on her own merits, but quite often, the crew isn’t doing that, either. There’s the caveat that they’re grieving and it’s an odd situation to be in, but! Sisko initially tries to interact with her in the same way he would Jadzia (calling her old man, which upsets her a great deal,) Julian flirts with her with the same intensity he did Jadzia in early seasons, Worf seems to only be seeing his dead wife any time he looks at her.

Ezri is given a role as ship’s counselor when she is in no way emotionally able to handle the psychological difficulties of others when she’s going through so much herself.

Her return to Deep Space 9 (the station) seems to contradict what we know about Trill culture. Joining is meant to give the symbiont as many life experiences as possible, and re-association (to various degrees) is anything from strongly discouraged to forbidden. Ezri goes right back to living Jadzia’s life in some ways, in the same place with the same people. Jadzia wasn’t able to resume her relationship with Lenara Khan, but Ezri finds herself being intimate with Jadzia’s widower.

Our alternatives and fixes for the arcs of Jadzia and Ezri fall into three broad categories, which we’ll break down here:

1. Ezri Not-Dax? (Ezri is still joined unexpectedly, but rather than the Dax symbiont, she is host to another symbiont which needed her.)

2. Where in the World is Jadzia Dax? (If Ezri isn’t a Dax, we have to figure out what to do with the Dax we know!)

3. The Legacy Question (The age-old Trill questions of new hosts, old hosts, and interpersonal relationships.)

Ezri Who? Ezri Not-Dax!

The best solution Lee and I were able to find was the idea that Ezri was joined under similar circumstances to canon, but not to Dax itself.

This is still largely workable for the story we want to tell, because, as Lee explains: “The Dax symbiont isn't key to her character, except to affect her relationships with the crew. Her main personal conflicts are about being joined before she was ready, not about being joined to Dax. She still would have worked without the Dax symbiont.”

For the sake of convenience, let’s call this hypothetical new symbiont Nal. So, Ezri Tigan —> Ezri Nal.

Where in the World is Jadzia Dax?

Theres 3 different paths we could take with Jadzia!

If Terry was made a reoccurring member of the cast, the writers could easily have put Jadzia into the position of being given a transfer assignment. Though Jadzia might initially struggle to accept this because of her loyalty to her friends, “with things picking up in wartime, it's believable that Starfleet would want the people more familiar with what dangers are on the other side of the wormhole to be spread around and maximize the number of ships and stations that are prepared for it. Maybe Jadzia acts as a representative and goes around giving lectures/debriefings on that stuff. This situation puts us in a position to get frequent updates about Jadzia, even if we don't see her again!"

If Terry did not stay on at all, Jadzia as a character could still have died, but the Dax symbiont finds a new host back on Trill, away from the station. Maybe we get updates about this Dax because Ezri trained with them for a bit, or the new Dax reaches out to Sisko from time to time, since he was well-acquainted with two previous Dax-es.

The option I like best for purely self-indulgent reasons would be if Terry stayed on for one more season and was present on the station when Ezri arrived, serving as a mentor to her.

The Legacy Question

Since the “TNG” days, Star Trek likes to experiment with Trill, and what happens in relationships between joined Trill and non-Trill, particularly in the case of a symbiont with a new host. We might assume this was part of the writer’s intent with the Dax Debacle, but it went over much better in the move from Curzon to Jadzia then it did in the move from Jadzia to Ezri.

Other options for exploring “the legacy question:”

“If they wanted to explore the whole ‘new host when the previous host was close to you’ thing, they could have had an episode that went into detail about Sisko meeting Jadzia for the first time after the death of Curzon.” Or, just having Sisko reflect more on the changes and developments in their relationship as time passes. They did this quite well initially when Jadzia first came aboard, but dropped it soon after the first season for the most part and left it to our amazing fic writers to pick it back up.

The character of Curzon is often used as a vehicle for explaining Jadzia’s connection to Klingon culture, but he also gives us access to a wealth of relationships which could be used to explore the legacy question. “Curzon had so many friends, and we see a variety of reactions from them, particularly with his Klingon friends. Some of them immediately fall back into that friendship, some of them struggle to recognize that Jadzia may not be Curzon, but she is still Dax, and has a lot of Curzon in her.” Keeping that thread going would have been intriguing also.

The Life of Ezri Nal

Here’s how some elements of Ezri’s story might look with the “Nal” symbiont.

Ezri is joined rather unprepared when a medical emergency puts the life of a symbiont at risk and the host is unable to be saved. For convenience, let’s call this symbiont Nal.

Ezri was always interested in Starfleet Service, especially in working as a counselor (which she studied on her own rather than gaining the knowledge through the memories of past hosts.) She assigned to the station by the Trill Symbiosis Commission largely because there are people there who will know how to help a newly-joined Trill; namely Sisko, Julian, and Jadzia.

Jadzia+ Ezri

Being the only other Trill on the station that we know about, Jadzia puts herself in a mentor role to Ezri, helping her adjust to her new life and consciousness. Her personality and experiences make her perfect for the job!

As a bonus, we get to see how the mentor and mentee relarionships between joined Trill and initiates work.

We also set up some fun parallels! Take Jadzia, who had to try so hard to be joined, and it was a huge goal in her life (to the point where she applied again to the Symbiosis Comission after being rejected once, which is played as something that basically never happens,) versus Ezri who was perfectly happy to be just herself and ended up taking on this responsibility without being ready and without feeling like she had much choice because of how Trill culture regards symbionts.

From the little we know about Jadzia before she was joined, she was somewhat like Ezri-bookish, shy, anxious-and she initially struggled to adjust to the likes of Curzon. But now, she’s gown so confident in who she is, for the most part, and she’d be the perfect person to guide Ezri and help her find joy in her new life.

But, she also understands having difficulties with aspects of being joined, for example, her conflict in whether she should rejoin with Lenara Khan, or how she struggled in the aftermath of the discovery of the cover-up regarding Joran.

In short, Jadzia helps keep Ezri as mentally and emotionally healthy as she can be.

Julian+Ezri

Being CMO, Julian helps look after Ezri and ensure she’s physically well; after all, it’s what he does best! “Having Julian as the Chief Medical Officer on board would be a big draw for the Trill. He's even performed a symbiont joining and removal procedure. He had to be very familiar with Trill biology, meaning a newly joined host would be relatively safe and well-cared-for on board. And, I’m sure that there's a big chemical change in Trill when the get joined, and adjusting to that would be hard!”

Julian can also sympathize having something done you didn’t want or weren’t ready for, and can help her process those feelings. “ They both have complicated relationships with their parents regarding their parents’ expectations and their own desires and feelings, which would be interesting!”

In some ways, Julian can serve as another mentor to Ezri. It would be an interesting shift to watch Julian, who is often portrayed as the the youngest or most “green” be able to mentor and guide someone else. “This is also a good way to show Julian has grown and matured, without having to have other characters just say it.”

If we still followed their romance route, having Ezri as Ezri Nal rather than Dax could have make the relationship between her and Julian sit a lot better with audiences. With a rewrite, Julian is not chasing the “ghost” of Jadzia; rather he’s meeting Ezri for the person she is, on her own terms. This also prevents a regression of his character back to the way he chased Jadzia in the early seasons, and instead honors the relationship of treasured friendship that Julian and Jadzia built.

Sisko+Ezri

As he is with many of his younger crew, Sisko takes naturally to the role of a mentor and father figure with Ezri, again meeting her for the person she is, on her own terms. He serves as a valuable guide to ship life and helps her get acquainted with station staff and residents.

Like with Jake, Sisko encourages Ezri to find herself by being her own person.

Ezri tries to take up cooking as a hobby with Sisko, but the experiences of past hosts mean her skills vary wildly depending on what they are making.

Other Relationships

Garak helps Ezri figure out how she wants to dress, often integrating different styles from past hosts. (He rather jumps at the chance.) Ezri still has her difficulties helping him as a counselor, but her additional training and the lack of complications from the Dax symbiont make things easier. They also get to know each other through Julian.

In this Ideal Timeline, Ziyal survives and meets Ezri. They relate well to each other, both of them not really knowing where they fit and grappling with someone else’s legacy, but they have each other for support. Ziyal has given her portraits as gifts.

She has a similar dynamic with Jake, who is trying to figure out how to honor his parents while being his own man. Ezri starts writing memoirs of sorts about her past lives on his suggestion.

Surprisingly, she gets on with Nog, too. They’re both doing things unexpected and feeling like they’re going to be the first in something big.

She isn’t especially close to Worf, but he assures her that the sacrifices she made for Nal are ones to be honored, and becomes rather fond of Ezri due to Jadzia’s influence.

Thanks for reading this super-long meta! Please tell Lee and I your thoughts on this rewrite!