#garak x parmak

[master-of-the-game]

And will we ever end up together? no, I think not, it's never to become For I am not the one.

Sally's Song

Young Garak who does his duty. Doctor Parmak, a bit older, who also does his duty and who is deeply, secretly and unconditionally in love with Garak. The Obsidian Order. Their future. I've promised to post picture where oil Garak portrait is copied from. Here it is. Fragments are under the cut.

[spacelizardswhopassedthreshold]

OMG OMG THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT PARMAK AND I NEVER FUCKING NOTICED ADSFAGSAHGSFA

[justlemmesignin]

Garak in the doorway of the shed waiting for the Doctor

[stellarivers]

Julian and his lizards (they're supposed to be in bed or something and I tried SO HARD to make Julian look like Julian but no that's impossible and he ended up looking like an unholy combination of Jesus and iCarly's brother)

[eco-lite]

Some mostly out of context funny/sweet/heartbreaking moments from Una McCormack’s Enigma Tales:

[Text ID: “Renel took the other chair and the two guls, both big men, perched awkwardly together on the sofa. Garak had asked for the sofa’s dimensions to be just slightly too small to comfortably seat two adult males. His cruel streak always found expression somehow.” End ID]

Garak forcing stuffy military men to squeeze onto a tiny sofa together. Utterly diabolical.

[Text ID: “My real pride is, of course, my garden. I have worked hard here. Parmak helps, although he has a tendency to kill plants on touch—worrying in a doctor (previous sentences underlined in red by me). He can’t do too much damage. The plants are hardy, the flowers have their own agenda, and not even Parmak can kill dry stone monuments.” End ID]

I love that in The Crimson Shadow, it’s implied that Kelas takes care of Garak’s garden while he’s away, yet here we learn that he’s actually terrible at it. First of all hilarious. Second of all, very sweet that Garak trusts him to keep trying.

[Text ID: “’There might be another route to Garak,’ Alden said slowly, at last. ‘Ambassador, what do you know about Kelas Parmak?’

‘He is the castellan’s close friend,’ said T’Rena. ‘Probably one of his closest advisors—not officially, but certainly they are often together.’

‘Are they lovers?’ said Pulaski.

‘I don’t know,’ said T’Rena. ‘I do know that Parmak was interrogated by the Obsidian Order in his youth, and that Garak may have been involved.’

‘Damn,’ muttered Alden, ‘this place is twisted.’” End ID]

Pulaski just assuming that Garak and Kelas are lovers. A perfectly valid assumption--it’s the same assumption I make myself. Also, Peter Alden pointing out how it is frankly fucked up that they should be lovers considering the circumstances of their past encounter. He’s not wrong... Kelas is just a forgiving angel of a man.

[Text ID: “She picked up the parcel she had brought with her. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to go now. I hope it’s been good to see me. But I brought you a present. Well, it’s not really from me. Several of your friends got together and found this, and when they heard I was coming they asked me to bring it with me. I hope there’s no injunction on importing livestock. I think I got away with it.’

He was hardly going to unwrap the gift, so she pulled at the paper, revealing the small brown bear inside. She reached for Bashir’s hand again, lifting it and pressing it against the toy, in case the touch stirred some memory. She pressed it against his cheek too, so he could catch the scent. Smell and memory were closely intertwined; smells took you back to places more than anything else. Then she put the bear upon the windowsill, half looking out at the city, half looking back at Bashir. She smiled at it; this little guy had been loved, she saw, and someone had done some stitching that would make a surgeon proud. She reached out and rubbed its ears.

‘He’s an old soldier, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘He’s been through some wars. We’ve all been through some wars.’ She stopped and kissed her lost friend gently on the brow. ‘Come back, Julian,’ she said. ‘We miss you.’” End ID]

Pulaski bringing Kukalaka to comfort the comatose Julian are you kIDDING ME? This scene is so bittersweet.

[Text ID: “’My father would say, all the time, how much I was wanted. How much he wanted me.’

(Next paragraph highlighted red by me) Well, he had wanted something, Garak thought. Telek’s father had not wanted the child he got. And that hurt, as Garak had cause to know; yes, that hurt very badly.” End ID]

Hahahahaaa ouchie.

[Text ID: “Garak realized that he was still holding the phaser. He slipped it back into his pocket, for he would no doubt need it again one day, and then he rested his head against the cool of the window. My poor Julian, he thought. He let himself tremble for a while, allowing his body to process the shock. He might have allowed himself some tears then, too, in the dark while nobody could see, for all that had been lost, for all that he had done; for everyone that he had harmed.

Everyone that he had been unable to save.” End ID]

Despite everything, Garak is a very compassionate person. He very kindly talked down Telek, who was about to kill him, and was sensitive and remorseful that Telek’s Bajoran genetics had been eradicated as a child, at the insistance of Telek’s Cardassian father. And then immediately after that assassination attempt--a moment in which you’re surely allowed to think selfishly--he instead thinks of “My poor Julian,” another man whose father did not want him as he was. And that’s not even acknowledging all the other shit Garak is going through here. It’s a lot.

Love to end on a sad note. But seriously, everybody go read this book! These are just a few great moments among many. Lots of angst, lots of tenderness.

[dftea]

To your health

@badthingshappenbingo: Crippling the Competition

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Elim Garak/Kelas Parmak

While on the run from Section 31, Julian realises that Garak is being poisoned by his political rival.

[read on ao3]

[polyamships]

Chapters: 27/27 Fandom: Star Trek: Classic Timeline, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, A Stitch in Time - Andrew J. Robinson Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak/Kelas Parmak, Elim Garak & Kelas Parmak, Elim Garak/Kelas Parmak, Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir & Kelas Parmak, Julian Bashir/Kelas Parmak Characters: Kelas Parmak, Elim Garak, Julian Bashir Additional Tags: Post-Canon Cardassia, aftermath of war, Rebuilding, Cardassian Culture, Worldbuilding, Kardasi, Claustrophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Panic Attacks, PTSD Summary:

Work as Director of the Fourth Emergency Medical Unit after the Fires is very different for Doctor Kelas Parmak than his work as a doctor for the Primary Medical Unit of Kardasi'or - yet his responsibilities are the same: ‘maintain the health of those around you – to the best of your ability’ - no matter who they are. Even if one of those people was once the same Obsidian Order operative who, years ago, interrogated him and destroyed his career and his life. Yet perhaps providing the necessary care and support to him will not be so difficult as he at first feared - as the one-time operative does not seem to be exactly the same man he once was.

The Cardassia to which Garak has returned is a world of dust-filled air and thoroughly unpleasant duties. He must serve Cardassia nonetheless - but perhaps doing so will not be so difficult, with the support of a man who has every reason to fear him, yet insists on treating him as worthy of his consideration.

Back on Deep Space Nine, another doctor - Julian Bashir - worries about what has become of his one-time friend, whom he hasn't heard from in nearly a year. He continues to write, and to hope that, one day, he'll hear from him again - and see him again.

[stopthatbluecat]

Earth Tones: Jake and Nog Interlude 2400 Fic

Jake and Nog are in their forties when they decide to adopt two teenagers.

[pikechris]

listen I have thoughts about parmak. bc like. imagine you're the doctor of the head of the obsidian order. you did nothing, but all the same he sends an agent to interrogate and torture you bc he suspects you of plotting. and this guy comes. but he just sits there and stares at you for hours until you can't take it anymore bc his eyes are just so Intense and so you admit to something you did when younger that is completely irrelevant but how would you know that?? you don't know why he's there. you just want it to end. then you're sent to a labour camp bc you still did Crimes Against The State, however irrelevant they were. you come back eventually. you start practising medicine again. some years later the dominion war and the fire happens. you head an emergency med unit. there aren't enough people. you need volunteers. guess what? the guy who interrogated you years ago shows up! but he's apparently a hero of the rebellion and a tailor now and does want to help. so you allow it. eventually you forgive him. you even become good friends. flash forward to some years later, and the same guy is the castellan of the entire cardassian union and you're living with him in his castellan residence, practically married. insane

[frozenmemories1987]

Soulmate AU but these dummies have been married for years before they figure out what their bond is and what it means.

[savorybreakfasts]

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1168892

Garak and Parmak on Earth, or rather, my corner of it. Possibly the most self-indulgent stuff I’ve written and that is a very very high bar.

[eilupt]

OT3 Onesie Party — for @cyrelia-j Explanatory notes: Self-explanatory Teddybear!Julian Lobster!Parmak because I found a lobster onesie for sale on some "Japanese goods" website and thought he'd definitely wear it Unicorn!Garak because he's always gotta be extra

[boldlygowherenodoghasgonebefore]

Garak watched Kelas carefully chop the vegetables he’d harvested from the garden.  It was impossible to imagine anyone doing this task more slowly.  It was as if he were in a trance.   Take a single vegetable, wash it, slice it in half, chop each half and be sure every piece is the same size.   Then tend to any offending slices or start over with a new vegetable.  It took hours.

Parmak felt Garak’s eyes on him and looked over, noticing Garak at last.  Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Kelas rested his hands on Garak’s collar and he shrank back in horror.

“Kelas!  Your hands are still wet and gritty.  My dear, didn’t we talk about ruining my nice clothing while you were cooking?”

Kelas ducked his head and hid a smile as he said guiltily, “Sorry.  I couldn’t resist.”

Garak noticed that he didn’t seem especially remorseful.  Shaking his head, he hung up his tunic carefully and changed into gardening clothes.  At least Kelas couldn’t ruin those.

A few hours later, Garak finished his gardening and came in for dinner.  As he had expected, Kelas was still at work.

“Dinner in 30 minutes, my dear.  Would you set the table and then prepare the sauce?”

Garak simply could not fathom what took so long, but he’d long since stopped questioning.  Kelas cooked so rarely, and when he did, they both enjoyed fresh food from the garden.

As the sauce simmered, he couldn’t help himself.

“My dear, how does it take you hours to cook a simple meal?”

Kelas continued to stir the vegetables, and at first Garak thought his question hadn’t registered.  The response was so soft Garak almost missed it. 

“I don’t like to skip steps.”

Kelas seemed uncharacteristically defensive, and Garak added some spices to the sauce, looking thoughtful as Kelas continued.

“My job...it depends on a certain kind of order.  It took me a long time to learn this."

He paused to check the vegetables, then went on.

"After I finished my residency on Cardassia, I spent a few years traveling.  It was almost unheard of for a Cardassian doctor, but I wanted experience working alongside doctors with diverse backgrounds and going where I was most needed.  We were a confident bunch; young and enamored of our own prowess, eager to prove ourselves.  There would be surgeries we'd never dreamed of as residents, and more than enough adventure to go around. ”

Kelas returned to the task at hand, meticulously seasoning the vegetables, lowering the temperature to be sure they cooked evenly, and to Garak’s amazement, he saw Kelas’ hand shaking.

He was taken aback. 

“My dear, if this is upsetting you-“

Garak removed the sauce from the heat and set it on the stovetop.  He took one of Kelas’ trembling hands in his and kissed his brow, gently tracing circles over the back of his hand. 

Kelas closed his eyes for a moment and then pulled his hand away.  He turned off the stove and, plated the vegetables with care, setting them aside.  

Garak poured two glasses of kanar and they sat in the living room.  Kelas sank into the fabric of the couch, not meeting Garak’s eyes as he sat down beside him.

“Dinner will get cold,” Kelas said, but he made no move to get up.  Garak placed a hand on his arm reassuringly.

“It can wait.  You were telling a story.  I’d like to hear the rest.”

Kelas struggled to compose himself and continued in a stronger voice.

“Do you remember the relief efforts in Cardassia after the fire?  It was a madhouse, we had to manage with equipment shortages, non-sterile gear, and way too few doctors.  It still isn’t anywhere near perfect, but it’s a totally different situation.  Well, when it’s your planet, you pitch in, you deal with the less than ideal circumstances, you do the best you can.  Everyone’s in the same boat; you’re fighting for your people.”

He paused and reluctantly continued.

“It’s different when you’re working to help others.  We rushed in with our savior complexes, assuming we knew everything, positive we could handle the situation without oversight.  I was barely finished with residency.”

Garak was curious.  Kelas had never discussed this time in his life, and Garak felt a bit ashamed that he'd never asked.

“It was a war zone.  There were almost no experienced surgeons, and supervising dozens of young doctors was impossible.  And so I decided to try a surgery I’d never done before.  A fellow doctor offered to find someone with more experience, or at least an extra set of hands to check my work, but I was too proud.  I could save this young man myself.”

His voice shook and he continued.

“He died a few minutes into surgery.  It wasn’t even the complexity of the procedure that did me in.  I skipped a step.  A first-year med student would’ve known that I was in error.  If I’d allowed someone to assist me…  well, I didn’t.  No use dwelling on it.”

Garak put an arm around him and Kelas leaned into him, and they sat in silence, staring at the fire burning in the wood stove.  The glow was almost hypnotic.

Kelas finally spoke.

“Crossed wires."

Garak looked puzzled.

"There was a resident who worked with me, one of the few I considered a friend, and the only one who knew what happened. That’s what he called it.  Crossed wires."

At Garak's questioning look, Kelas tried to explain.

“Apparently on 20th-century earth, people traveled in ground vehicles called cars.  It wasn’t uncommon for the battery to die, especially in older models.  When this happened, the car needed a ‘jump’ from another working vehicle to restart the battery.  Since so many amateurs needed the ability to do this, jumper cables were color coded so that red and black cables went into their corresponding colored spots under the hood.  Crossing the wires could destroy the battery and alternator, necessitating expensive repairs.”

Garak nodded and he continued.

“An ordinary person would never make that mistake.  They’d check and recheck the colors, knowing it wasn’t something they were trained to do.  But he saw many a mechanic do it carelessly in a fit of overconfidence and distraction.  That was me.”

Garak stroked his arm soothingly, and they sat in silence, listening to the sounds of light rain outside their residence.

Finally, Kelas spoke, and Garak was glad to hear a lightness in his voice.

“Anyway.  I’ve been cooking all day.  Let’s sample the fruits of my labor.”

An hour later, the food was gone, their heated conversations about literature and Cardassian politics had mellowed and they'd moved on to childhood experiences with fresh food and cooking.

“I’ve never had much experience cooking, but I loved helping Tolan in the garden.  It was some of the best times we had, and, I realize, the only time I truly saw him.  He was rarely himself anywhere else.  He taught me to grow and recognize every type of vegetable, fungus, and berry on the planet.”

Kelas smiled.

“That sounds wonderful.  Although every type of berry?  That seems a tad boastful.  Surely there’s always more to be discovered.”

Garak brought out a platter and said, “My dear, you ought to be glad of my expertise.  Since you spent all day cooking, I found us a variety of berries for dessert.”

Garak served them both heapfuls of each kind and dug in immediately.   Despite his frequent admonitions to others to savor their food, berries were one thing he simply devoured. 

They ate in silence, relishing the fresh taste of food right from the garden.

“Kelas, you’ve left over an entire helping of berries.  They’re delicious.”

Kelas hesitated.

“What kind of berry is it?  I’ve never seen it before.  Are you sure it’s edible?”

Impatient, Garak said, “Yes, yes.  I’m not sure of the type but I’d recognize anything poisonous.”

Kelas raised an eyebrow and said, “Just the same, I’d rather not mess around with it.”

Garak finished the rest of Kelas’ berries and patted his stomach, and Kelas laughed.

“Is it possible we’re a little too certain of our own skill?  I can’t help thinking of the mechanic who destroyed his car from overconfidence.”

Garak waved him away with an exasperated smile as he began to clear the dishes.

Kelas retired to bed for some after-dinner reading and replicated himself some tea.  He had lost all track of time when he heard loud retching.   Alarmed, he rushed to the bathroom to find Garak throwing up repeatedly.

Kelas leaned over and stroked his back, making sympathetic noises.

“Oh, Elim-“

Garak hurled again, then said, “There’s no need to patronize me.  You can bloody well say I told you so.”

Kelas raised his eyebrows as Garak retched, barely containing his bile as another wave of nausea hit him.

Garak finally lifted his head, beads of sweat covering his forehead.  Kelas stroked his brow gently with a wet washcloth. 

“I suppose I might have gotten the wires crossed.”

[saragrosie]

Hello consider Kelas Parmak

(Second drawing inspired by Proof by @alphacygni-8 , read by @jellyfishfire )

[stellarivers]

I kind of did Kelas dirty in a recent fic where I basically wrote him as a jealous ass trying to get between Garak and Bashir, but the 3 of them as a threesome? I can totally get behind that, so here's Garak and his lanky bois <3

I have very little visual reference for how to draw Kelas but I know exactly 3 things about his appearance: he's lanky, he wears glasses and he has long hair. This is also my first attempt at drawing him, so I hope I did OK.

Also, Garak's outfit looked a lot less like Chinese pyjamas in my head.

[taguko9228]

reupload