Damar actually realized that he was wrong and that Cardassia needed to change. He put aside his alcoholism, he realized that he needed to listen to Kira and take direction from her, which was a BIG FUCKING DEAL for any Cardassian to do. He stood up to his Cardassian men and told them to listen to her–specifically his best friend, too. He realized that his prejudices were damaging and that just following along was not the right thing to do or the correct way to serve the state nor was it what Cardassia needed. He became greater than the stereotypical Cardassian that is churned out by State propaganda and began to think for himself and learn how to change his thinking–something that is very important. Does any of this forgive his previous ‘crimes’? Of course it doesn’t.
But a majority of fandom seems to still think he’s the biggest piece of shit who has ever existed while some of the same people easily forgive Garak or Dukat their crimes. It’s pretty wild. Garak was willing to commit genocide, but he’s okay. He’s murdered countless people for the Order–eh. Dukat raped Bajoran women, oh well. A non Cardassian person… Quark. He threatened to fire an employee if she didn’t do sexual favors for him. He tried to also put something like that in work contracts. He thinks women should be servile and naked and men should be above all. Oh well, he’s gross-cute. Damar is forever an unforgivable asshole because he killed Ziyal.
????
#Garak killed people too but he’s a fluffy fandom bunny
Tag: quark
Star Trek Secret Santa: “Not The Norm”
Happy Holidays! Here is your @startreksecretsanta gift!
I saw this prompt and aimed to make it a little more shippy, but it didn’t turn out that way. I tried though. Still, it was fun and I hope you enjoy it. c:
khlhkj trash ship ZEK/RIKER/SCOTTY they can just be like. near eachother if this is too upsetting
Not The Norm
Everything, William Riker realized later, started with that senior staff meeting. Most of these serious issues involved such meetings, with Captain Picard fronting the discussion and others offering opinions and options, but rarely did Riker’s problems start with orders from one of these meetings.
He sat to the right of Picard and listened to the captain relay a call he’d gotten from Deep Space Nine. Riker expected more information about the Dominion War, the casualties, and, perhaps, the Cardassian’s obtaining of the station once again. Matters weren’t that grave, Picard had explained, but they were still to be taken as seriously as possible.
“Montgomery Scott has appeared on the station,” Picard said, “He says he’s from the year 2268. The Department of Temporal Investigations has tried explaining the situation to him but he refuses to believe that he’s traveled forward in time. He wants to see the Enterprise as proof. They’ve agreed to let him on the ship, but it’s imperative that no one else on the station or this ship knows why we’ve arrived on the station. As far as everyone else is concerned, we came into the station for unexpected maintenance. Data, La Forge, I want you and the engineering staff to stay aboard the Enterprise to run diagnostics. Create some sort of malfunction and then repair it. Everyone else is on shore leave on Deep Space Nine. Do not speak a word of our true intentions on the station to anyone. It is imperative that Mr. Scott’s presence remain a secret.”
Riker hadn’t argued then. In fact, the whole plan really seemed reasonable. More than that, he was excited to have a few days of shore leave on Deep Space Nine, even with Mr. Scott’s presence. The station was, after all, a fun and interesting place.
do you ever imagine if changelings are like cats, in the sense that if they can get into a container they will
like imagine if quark’s counting stock or some shit after hours and he puts down a large empty bottle, and turns his back on it for a second
of course he realises his mistake almost immediately and whips around, but odo’s already gotten in there in liquid form and goddamnit odo i was going to put watered down wine in that and charge double
If you’re still taking prompts can you write some damsel in distress julian with garak (and maybe odo) saving him?
Damsel in distress Julian, omg. I. Just. Love. DiD!Julian.
Programming Glitch
“Computer, locate Doctor Bashir.”
“Doctor Bashir is in holosuite two.”
Garak sighed. Of course. There was a station wide electronics issue hooked directly to the holosuite and his dear Doctor Bashir is stuck inside one of them. They already couldn’t turn off the holosuites, no they had a more pressing issue to deal with. No doubt his new program was partially to blame for the whole fiasco.
The good doctor had kept his new holosuite adventure a secret, much like he did with the secret agent program months ago. Only, this wasn’t the secret agent program. Julian had asked for a new costume – something regal, refined. Garak was delighted to make such a thing for him, and was even more delighted to see it on him. He was curious as to what story would call for such a wondrous outfit, but Garak decided to bring up the matter with Quark, not Julian. One quick peek during the late night hours would quell his curiosity.
Now, though, Garak regretted the delay.
“It’s not like last time,” Chief O’Brien said. Garak’s gaze flicked up to him. “There’s no one else trapped in there with him. We could send a couple people in there and fish him out.”
“That’s assuming we can get in at all,” Jadzia said.
“Oh, it is quite possible to break into the holosuites no matter what state of ill-repair they’re in,” Garak said. Eyes flicked to him almost at once. Six pairs of them, to be exact. Some where wide open and others harbored no shock or disbelief.
“And I’m assuming you’ve tested that,” Constable Odo said.
“Oh, hardly,” Garak answered, “But they are not the most secure rooms on this station. It would be quite easy to slip inside one, given that you have the right security access, of course.”
“And you have access?” Captain Sisko asked.
“Of course. But even if I didn’t, Constable Odo certainly does. I believe Quark has asked him to use his access codes on a number of occasions. Is this not true?”
“It is,” Odo said.
“Alright,” Sisko said, “Let’s try to open holosuite two. Chief, Constable, Mr. Garak, I’ll leave it up to you to get in there and get him. Dax, I want you to go down to Quark’s as well. If there’s anyone else in those holosuites, I want to know and I want them out.”
Garak/Bashir – On Vacation staying at a Beach House on Risa thats haunted by Brunt, FCA
Okay. I have been thinking about this prompt almost non-stop for two days. The time has come.
Hidden Agenda
It took a lot to convince Garak to go to Risa.
Julian started subtly at first. A hint here or there whenever another couple would cross their line of sight. Garak never took the bait.
After a few days, Julian resorted to more direct conversations about Risa. “I hear Risa’s nice this time of year,” and, “I wonder if there are reading nooks on Risa,” were the most common. Garak answered in a polite, kind tone, but never considered the comments as anything to take seriously.
A couple weeks of this banter only made Julian more determined and a bit more aggressive. “We should go to Risa,” finally slipped out of his mouth one day and the Cardassian answered with a simple and heavy:
“No.”
When pushed, Garak gave a myriad of excuses for remaining on the station: there were Bajorans on Risa that wouldn’t welcome Garak’s arrival, some rather angry Cardassians might take the opportunity to exact revenge on his lack of tax payment, the rising conflict between the Federation and the Dominion meant that Julian would be needed on the station, and so on, and so on. Julian was already done with his excuses by the first one. It was clear Garak just didn’t want to go. It was likely because Garak didn’t know the perks of what going to Risa meant.
Julian made some calls. He discovered that there were some private beach houses for folks looking for isolation during their stay. Not only that, some of the houses offered a less humid environment, meaning they could filter out the ocean air and the inside of their cabin would be more arid, more desert like, while still providing them with a delightful view of the ocean. There were all different species that arrived on Risa, after all. Julian relayed the message to Garak. The Cardassian still wasn’t taking. So Julian, with no other options, resorted to one last attempt.
“Garak, I’ll make you a deal,” Julian said, easing onto the Cardassian’s lap while they sat in the privacy of Julian’s quarters, “If we go to Risa for a week, I will let you dress me however you want. I won’t even pack other options. I have to take my Starfleet uniform, so I look professional when I enter and leave the station, but the moment we’re out of the station’s reach, I will change into whatever you want.”
He knew Garak had been making and stowing outfits for him in the back of the shop. And the idea of Julian wearing them made his partner’s face light up immediately. Large hands rolled along his butt and pulled Julian closer to him.
“What if I don’t have enough clothes for you, my dear?” Garak asked, his voice low, almost growling.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to walk around naked.”
And that was that. Julian took a week off and went with Garak to Risa. The request concerned Captain Sisko, but Julian promised to keep Garak out of trouble. There was doubt lingering in the Captain’s gaze, but he allowed the trip anyway. The two weeks before their trip crawled by but soon enough, they found themselves on the shuttle heading to Risa.
quotes challenge: “c-can I hold your hand?..” and Bashir/Garak (can you make it sad…? It’s okay if you don’t want to!) Thanks <3
Send Me A Couple/Quote And I’ll Write A Story
Oh, I will totally make it sad. I will make it the saddest thing to ever sad. And then we’ll all be sad. And then we’ll try to get un-sad and then we will think of the sad thing and become sad again.
I mean what.
Grasp
“C-can I hold your hand?”
Garak looked down at that ashen face, at the bluing lips, at those dimming brown eyes that glistened only out of fear and momentary need. He didn’t want to be here, but he could never get himself to leave. He reached, he always did, towards that warm yet weakening hand. He was thanked with a limp smile and a single tear which escaped from one of those flickering eyes.
This is it. The moment he realized.
“I’m sorry we won’t be able to meet for lunch anymore,” the weakened man whispered. Garak offered a smile. A frail one. He knew it would vanish, but it couldn’t. Not yet. And it wouldn’t. Not for another moment. Not until…
“I shall treasure the ones we had, my dear Doctor.”
The man’s smile grew. It lasted a second. If there were more words that were meant to follow, they never did. There was a shaky breath, just one, before one last exhale extinguished what little light the man had left. He was gone. He always was. And Garak’s smile went with him.
How many times had he relived this? Twenty? Forty? The number hardly mattered. The pain always felt the same. The ache in his heart rang the same. He carried it with him throughout the day like a weight which only grew heavier with each pass of the promenade, each familiar face, each Starfleet uniform. It never got easier. It never would. Despite that, each time he lived through this experience, he ended it the same – with a kiss on Doctor Julian Bashir’s forehead.
It was the closest he ever got.
He stood then and looked down at the bloody figure sprawled across the floor. Red painted the whites and blacks that dawned the Doctor’s body – a suit out of his time. Garak spent hours on it, labored over it, crafted it to impress the dear man. He’d succeeded. He would never make a suit like that again.
“Computer, end program.”
Julian’s body disappeared. The blood and suit went with it. The pain remained. It always did. Just once, he hoped it wouldn’t.
He left the holosuite, took out the datarod, crossed Quark’s, and handed it back to the Ferengi owner. Quark didn’t ask. He never did. He simply took the rod and stowed it away with the rest.
No one spoke to Garak as he stepped out of the bar and back onto the promenade. It was full. He was empty. They were living. He was dead. He died in that holosuite, wearing a suit that wasn’t his, with his cold hand clinging onto the only family he had. A family he never truly appreciated until it was gone.
Prompted Writing: “Shelter”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Odo, QuarkPrompt:
“The next time you’ll stand in front of my house at 3 AM because you need a place to hide don’t expect me to open the door.” [x]
It was 3AM – 3:12, to be precise – and his door chime wouldn’t stop ringing.
Odo was tempted to stay in bed. He had to be at the precinct in the morning and he needed the sleep. Desperately. But as the chime kept ringing without pause for another two minutes, Odo’s resolve dissipated. His anger, though, rose. He climbed out of bed with a grumble and stopped over to his front door. He practically pulled the thing off of it’s hinges jerking it open. His anger didn’t lessen with the reveal of the person on the other side.
Quark, Odo’s far too troublesome business district informant, looked at him with a mix of relief and frustration from his porch.
“Odo,” Quark said, “I need a place to stay.”
Odo and Quark team up to mess with O’Brien and Bashir
Best enemies.
There's a Mirror on the Wall 