#merrymonthofcohen

[abunchoflonesomeheroes]

Here are the brave souls who have already signed up for their month of angst! There are still spots to fill! Be brave!

So far:

1: Caladenia @caladeniablue VOY

2: 70thousandlightyearsfromhome @70thousandlightyearsfromhome VOY

3: marymoss1917 @marymoss1971 PIC

4: seemaunbound @seemaunbound VOY or PIC

5: CAMIR @pc-corner VOY

6: hauntedmoonchaos @hauntedmoonchaos VOY

7: Servalan VOY or PIC

8: grissomesque @grissomesque VOY

9: cnroth @cnrothtrek VOY

10: lipstickonmylabcoat @lipstickonmylabcoat VOY, SNW or LD

11: madameairlock @madamairlock VOY

12: littleobsessions @littleobsessions90 VOY

13: whathappenstotheheart @whathappenstotheheart TNG

14: regionalpancake @regionalpancake PIC

15: a little squirrely sunshine @a-little-squirrely-sunshine TNG

#fanfiction #leonard cohen #startrek #fandom event #merrymonthofcohen #be brave

[regionalpancake]

Anytime - Regionalpancake - Star Trek: Picard [Archive of Our Own]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Raffi Musiker & Cristóbal Rios Characters: Cristóbal Rios, Raffi Musiker, Ricardo Ramirez - Character Additional Tags: Angst, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Crew as Family, Found Family, Merry Month of Cohen, A Bunch of Lonesome Heroes, some people are never completely gone, these two deserved better, Post-Season/Series 02, a quiet morning in the 21st century Summary: In the 21st century, Rios misses talking with his oldest friend.

Thanks to @abunchoflonesomeheroes for hosting this excellent fest!

#regionalpancakewrites #regionalpancakeedits #angst #raffi musiker #cristobal rios #merrymonthofcohen #leonard cohen x star trek #abunchoflonesomeheroes

[grissomesque]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Angst with a hopeful ending, (for which I hope everyone will forgive me), Minor Character Death, Brief Non-Gratuitous Violence, Canon Divergence, 5+1 Things, Basics, Resolutions, Investigations, The Chute, Renaissance Man, Canon But Make It J/P Angst Summary: Only, sometimes, sometimes she’d let her gaze linger over the pool table in Sandrine’s, or she’d lean her hip against his console while he cracked some joke—sometimes she’d clutch his shoulder as he danced them out of danger and he’d look up at her, and she’d blow out a relieved breath, and she’d grin back at him, and—

And now he’ll never know, and neither will she. - Or: Five times Tom Paris leaves Kathryn Janeway, and one time she leaves him. Inspired by Leonard Cohen's "Avalanche" for the Merry Month of Cohen.

#merry month of cohen #a bunch of lonesome heroes #fic #janeway x paris #* #merrymonthofcohen

[you-want-it-darker]

Our annual May Cohen event is upon us! Bring us all your angst & pain.

Starts today/tomorrow! (Depending on your timezone …)

Participants: 1. Post your masterpiece on your chosen date, tagging your Tumblr post with #You_Want_It_Darker. 2. If posting to AO3, please add to the “You_Want_It_Darker” collection, and tag your story “You_Want_It_Darker”. 3. Message this blog with the details of where your fanwork is posted. Any questions, message this blog.

As of this update, there is technically one spot left, and we've been told there may be a few surprises. It is never too late to sign up, so join us!

#merrymonthofcohen #You_Want_It_Darker

[lipstickonmylabcoat]

A collection of haikus for the Merry Month of Cohen event @abunchoflonesomeheroes.

Haikus of Love, Loss & Revenge

Fandom - Star Trek Strange New Worlds

Pairing - Number One/Una Chin-Reilly x Christine Chapel

#merrymonthofcohen #haiku poetry #number one x christine #Inspired by Leonard Cohen songs

[marymoss1971]

Hallelujah - The Traitor's Song

Fic for the Merry Month of Cohen--

The only Leonard Cohen song I know is Hallelujah, which I think is beautiful. To me, the song is about loss of faith and I think it'd really apply to someone who feels betrayed by their government and commits treason. While Star Trek has had some disgraced officers, the song seemed to apply most to Eddington.

#you_want_it_darker #star trek deep space 9 #michael eddington #merrymonthofcohen

[allthetrek]

Closing Time

In the seedy bar of a decrepit space station on the outskirts of the galaxy... You and Captain Pike wait for a Starfleet informant. The evening does not go as planned, and it will surely be a night you’ll never forget. (Pike X Reader, romance/adventure)

Inspired by Closing Time by Leonard Cohen, for the #merrymonthofcohen fandom event! @killitwithtears

Closing Time Park II (SMUT) Here

Well, this is an… interesting crowd. The patrons of the seedy space station bar mill about their business around you and Captain Pike. This station, on the outskirts of the galaxy, attracts a certain clientele. Mercenaries, fugitives, anyone without scruples looking for an escape, physical or mental. This is the place.

You glance over at Captain Pike, sitting beside you at the long bar, made of what looks like recycled ship parts. The whole station is a floating scrapyard, really. You’ve never seen anything like this place, or its customers, and you’re glad Captain Pike is by your side.

The two of you are on an away mission, meeting a contact for information vital to your mission. They would only agree to meeting with the Captain, no extras, but he had managed to talk them into letting you come along, stating Starfleet regulations would not allow him to go unaccompanied. You have a calm, easygoing demeanor that won’t seem threatening to the contact, yet the Captain knows you have years of training and experience, and can hold your own if needed. He’s seen you in action before, and is impressed by you in more ways than one.

Truth be told, you’re nervous in this setting. You see the Captain giving those around you his signature side-eye. You’re both on high alert. You’ve been waiting for several hours now, and your contact is nowhere to be found. Are they standing you up? Did something happen to them? If anyone caught wind that they’re a Starfleet informant, they could pay the price…

Laughter on the other side of the bar catches your attention and you look in its direction. A few Ferengi with a few too many drinks in them. You roll your eyes but say nothing. You’re here on official business. No time for chit-chat.

You’re not used to being alone with the Captain. Having him all to yourself… Hmmm… Now there is a thought…

“What do you think, [Y/N]?” Captain Pike asks you. Your name on his lips makes you turn your head and stare into his intense blue-grey orbs. Did he just call you by your first name? Oh no, you’re taking too long to respond…

“Something wrong?” he asks you, and you swear a smirk is just visible on his lips… Mmm, those lips…

“Think of… What, sir?” you ask, seriously distracted at this point by the noise. And what is that smell? A pot of mystery-meat stew boils away on a convection-burner behind the bar, releasing a stench some species would find delectable. Not humanoids, however.

“Our informant. They’re a little late...,” the Captain states, a hint of agitation detectable in his deep voice. He adjusts restlessly on the uncomfortable barstool beneath him.

“More than a little late, sir. Something could have happened. They’ve assisted Starfleet multiple times in the past. I don’t see why this time would be any different,” you reply, careful to keep your voice down, though it’s hard over the music that just started playing, a symphony of alien instruments, an upbeat but odd composition.

The Captain nods in reply and you both turn to the small stage in the corner of the bar, now populated by several Orion women, and others of species you don’t recognize. They begin to dance to the music, a provocative dance meant to entice those that might wish to exchange universal currency for the pleasure of their company.

One Orion woman leaves the stage, dancing provocatively around the tables, coming near you and the Captain. She’s scantily clad, and her movements are almost mesmerizing. You’ve heard of the seductive powers of Orion women, though never seen them up close. Several of the bar patrons are already claiming their dancers, and you study Captain Pike’s face as the woman dances next to him, her scent intoxicating as she gets closer to the two of you. Pheromones, probably. Definitely not legal, but there’s no law out here on the edge of the cosmos.

The Captain looks calm and composed as ever, and he nods politely at the woman, and suddenly places his hand over yours, squeezing it gently and showing the dancer that he’s not interested. The woman looks mildly disappointed but moves on to her next potential client.

A spark shoots through you at the Captain’s touch and you feel your heartrate increase. Once the woman has left, he releases your hand. “Sorry, it’s just easier than… Well, you know,” he says apologetically, hoping he didn’t overstep with you. When on an away mission, you have to be able to improvise when needed.

“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. Your hand tingles slightly where he touched you. You’ve been trying so hard lately to push down the feelings you’ve been developing for your Captain, but tonight, you feel the walls of your psyche breaking down. But surely it’s in vain… There’s no chance… It could never be reciprocated. Could it?

“Have you seen them before?” the Captain asks, nodding his prominent chin in the stage’s direction.

“Um, no. No, this is my first time,” you answer, wishing you would have said that differently. Captain Pike’s eyes study you for a moment, and he raises his eyebrow. “Don’t let their appearance fool you. They’re cunning, and dangerous. I know a few Starfleet officers who have fallen victim to their wiles.”

“Oh? Like who?” you ask, smiling teasingly at the Captain, knowing full well he’ll never name names. You prop your elbow on the bar in front of you, resting your head on your hand as you peer mischievously over at him.

His eyes scan you again, liking this slightly playful side of you more than he wants to admit. “Well, they wouldn’t like me telling,” he replies with a wink that almost knocks you off your stool. You smile back at him and take a drink of the water the barkeep has placed in front of you. It tastes like their filtration system needs some serious maintenance; thank goodness the cup is too dark to see what color the liquid inside is.

Captain Pike watches you take a drink and smirks at your reaction. He chose you for this away mission for your skills, definitely, but it was more than that. Lately, he just can’t seem to get you off of his mind. The sound of your voice, your beautiful smile, and the way you put him at ease. A few times recently, he’s felt so weighed down by the mission, his past, the responsibility of command. You’ve been there for him, asking him what’s on his mind and listening without judgement when he opens up to you, as much as he’s comfortable with in the moment. He feels like he can talk to you, and vice versa. Recently it’s been dawning on him… He’s falling for you. But, it’s not professional, not appropriate. He’s your superior, after all. Though right now, in this disreputable place of commerce, he’s beginning to lose touch with his reservations about the two of you…

It’s getting late, and your contact is apparently a no-show. You’re about to head back to the shuttle, so you can rendezvous with the ship which is currently out of range investigating another matter pertinent to the mission. However, an announcement is made over the station comm, in universal tongue, that there’s been a malfunction in the environmental controls and the way to the docking area is inaccessible. Life support and artificial gravity are down in those areas while they make repairs, and the repair estimate is at least twelve hours.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while,” you comment to the Captain. A yawn overcomes you and you shuffle yourself on the barstool, your behind aching from the hard surface. It’s been a long day. This environment is a lot to take in. The clientele, the noise, having your guard up, it’s all a bit over-stimulating.

Captain Pike sees you’re tired, and the two of you decide to get a room on the station for the night. Luckily, the living quarters have been unaffected by the malfunctions. The captain pays the barkeep in universal currency and you’re directed to your room for the night. As you leave the bar area, the clientele is getting rowdier as the hour gets later. You make your way through the crowd, but find your way suddenly blocked by two angry-looking Reptilians. Well, you think they’re angry, their species always looks like that if you’re being honest.

“What is Starfleet doing out here?” one of them hisses, their tone oozing with malice. How did they know you were Starfleet; you’re not wearing any identifiers?

“You’re mistaken…” Captain Pike starts, but he’s cut off by the other being, “Captain Pike of the Enterprise... You’re a long way from home, Starfleet.”

The captain retains his composure, but you see his posture change, readying himself in case a fight breaks out. “I don’t want any trouble,” he states commandingly, but it’s too late, every inebriated Federation-hater in the joint has now heard that the two of you are Starfleet, and they encroach on your position threateningly. Your hand instinctively brushes your hip, searching for your phaser, but you remember that they confiscated it upon entry. No weapons allowed in the bar, but they apparently didn’t count the razor-sharp spines protruding off of the alien closest to you.

The being swings at you, the venomous spines on its wrist coming perilously close to your exposed neck, and your instincts kick in. You evade the blow, but before you can react further, the alien is dispatched by Pike, who has grabbed a nearby bar-stool, bringing it down on the alien’s head. The being goes down, hitting the metal floor, its body now limp and listless, the silvery blood of a chromium-based life form oozing from its fresh head wound.

The others advance on the two of you, and your eyes scan the area for something you, too, could use as a blunt weapon, but there is nothing within reach. You raise your fists, ready to engage the enemy…

Several bouncers have heard the commotion and come ambling into the fight. These aliens are huge, brawny, and apparently made of ninety percent muscle tissue. No one wants to mess with them, and the crowd disperses, going back to their vices. Some gambling tables have opened up, and there’s a rumor that an underground slave trade goes on after midnight, but it’s a dangerous game, all of it. One puts their life on the line when walking through the docking hatch to this station, as you and the captain have just experienced.

You’ve had about enough of this place, and feel a sense of relief as you and Pike continue your way to the living area. You hear the ruckus behind you, fading in intensity as you walk, but the energy of the place is still very much present in you as you feel adrenaline pulsing through your veins. The farther away from the noise you walk, the better you feel, and the more aware you are of Captain Pike’s presence.

You walk slightly ahead of him, and absentmindedly rub your lower back with your hands, sore from the hours of sitting and waiting. Captain Pike notices your actions and something inside of him stirs. There’s something about this place, with everyone around you indulging their hedonistic, baser urges. A veritable feast for the senses, an escape from the roles and responsibilities of life in the rest of the galaxy.

Who were those Reptilians, and how did they know that you were Starfleet? Did they have something to do with your informant not showing up? Are the two of you in danger remaining on this station? Possibly, and all good questions. However, they will have to wait. Whatever it is about this place, it’s cast its spell upon both of you, and as you enter your quarters for the night, the tension between you is palpable, undeniable, and demanding to be addressed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Notes: Part II (smut) to follow, but wanted to post this more general/appropriate piece as my contribution to the event. Hope you enjoyed and thx for reading! :)

EDIT: Part II HERE!

#merrymonthofcohen #leonard cohen #captain pike x reader #pike x reader #christopher pike x reader #captain pike #christopher pike #star trek discovery #star trek discovery fan fiction #star trek #star trek fan fiction #writeblr #romance #closing time

[monsterfisken]

“Ah, the wind the wind is blowing Through the graves a wind is blowing Freedom soon will come Then we’ll come from these shadows”

The Partisan, Leonard Cohen

#kira nerys #star trek ds9 #leonard cohen #merrymonthofcohen

[killitwithtears]

And who by fire, who by water...

... who in this merry, merry month of May... who shall I say is calling?

So we have come to the end of the Merry Month of Cohen, and I’d like to thank everyone who’s contributed fic, art and fanvids, as well as everyone who has read and followed along. It’s been angstiferous 🖤

Here is the final list of contributors and fanworks, and don’t forget to bookmark the Who By Fire collection on AO3 and keep following @killitwithtears​, because submissions will continue to be accepted should anyone get the urge (just tag me so I can reblog your work!)

May 1 - @ladystark428 - Field Commander Cohen/Hallelujah - TNG - And Be Your Sweetest Self

May 2 - @mia-cooper - Winter Lady - VOY - Smoke and Gold

May 3 - @70thousandlightyearsfromhome - Bird on the Wire - VOY - Bird on the Wire

May 4 - @70thousandlightyearsfromhome - Bird on the Wire #2 - VOY - Bird on the Wire (video)

May 5 - @caladeniablue - Joan of Arc - VOY - Pyre

May 7 - @manalyzer13 - Is This What You Wanted - VOY - The Ghost of You and Me

May 8 - @allthetrek - Closing Time - DSC - Closing Time

May 9 - @pixiedane - A Thousand Kisses Deep - ENT - Quiet is the Thought of You

May 10 - @devoverest - Avalanche - VOY - The Shadow of Your Wound

May 11 - @caladeniablue - Anthem - VOY - Fractured

May 12 - @bizships - Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye - VOY - That’s No Way to Say Goodbye

May 13 - BlackVelvet42 - Take This Waltz - VOY - Take This Waltz

May 14 - @curator-on-ao3 - I’m Your Man - VOY - Traveling Light

May 15 - @leisylaura - Everybody Knows - VOY - Everybody Knows (video)

May 16 - @ariella884 - I Tried To Leave You - VOY - I Tried To Leave You

May 17 - @mia-cooper - Light as the Breeze - DS9 - Orbit

May 18 - @littleobsessions90 - Suzanne - VOY - Her Lover

May 19 - @caladeniablue - Heart With No Companion - VOY - He starts with the bedroom

May 20 - @grace-in-the-stars - Everybody Knows - VOY - Empty

May 21 - @curator-on-ao3 - You Want It Darker - VOY - Ten Years at Home

May 22 - @killermanatee - Iodine - DSC - iodine

May 23 - @caladeniablue - The Window - VOY - There plunged the rays of love

May 25 - @arcadia1995 - Tonight Will Be Fine - VOY - Tonight Will Be Fine

May 26 - @rocktherecorder - The Future - VOY - The Future

May 27 - @poetictrekkie - Dance Me To The End Of Love - TNG - Dance Me to the End of Love

May 28 - @gluecookie - The Partisan - DS9 - Through the graves a wind is blowing (art)

May 30 - @bizships - Come Healing - VOY - Come Healing

May 31 - @mia-cooper - Take This Longing - VOY - your body like a searchlight

#merrymonthofcohen #leonard cohen x star trek #star trek fandom event #all the treks #thanks for playing

[poetictrekkie]

Dance Me to the End of Love

My #merrymonthofcohen submission! A TNG fic based on Leonard Cohen’s Dance Me to the End of Love.

Thank you to @killitwithtears for creating this event.

https://open.spotify.com/track/3mFzIFFFmEXTQs6BDAK2ZZ

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin. Dance me through the panic, till I’m gathered safely in. Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove. Dance me to the end of love.

In his dreams, she was in the family vineyards and she was smiling. She was wearing blue, which complemented her red hair. There were stains from wine on her lips, colouring them a deep, uneven shade of burgundy. She was dancing on her own, humming an obscure melody, holding her arms out as if she was dancing with someone. Yet she was alone. She wore no shoes, and her pale feet glided across the grass and the dirt. He could hear birdsong, but no other music to speak of. But she kept perfect time, waltzing to the sounds of the doves and the wind rustling through the long alleyways of grapevines.

He woke from those dreams slowly, unrushed, and even turned to the empty pillow next to him as if to wish it good morning. There was no head resting upon it, but the stars outside cast fragmented light across the bedspread. Though it was perpetual night, out in the depths of space, Jean-Luc woke to a self-made dawn.

Oh, let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone. Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon. Show me slowly what I only know the limits of. Dance me to the end of love.

“Good morning,” she said.

She was wearing the blue sweater that he loved so much. He didn’t tell her, of course. Complimented it, perhaps once, long ago, discreetly. He ushered her in, pulled the chair out for her, poured her a cup of tea, proferred a platter of croissants. The same old routine. He’d do it a thousand times, and feel a rush of pleasure every time she raised the mug of tea to her lips. He would have loved to kiss her after breakfast, taste the lingering flavours of bergamot and butter on her tongue. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine it, because he knew that the thought of her would hover over his shoulder for the rest of the day. He couldn’t afford such a luxury.

“There’ll be a recital tonight,” she said. “Are you going? They’re performing Kreisler’s Dances.”

“I shall try to make it if I’m not busy,” he said.

“Jean-Luc, you’ve got to emerge from your cave at sometime.”

“In Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, no one believed the philosopher who left and returned to the cave, claiming that the world outside was so much brighter and splendid.”

Beverly laughed, reaching across to touch his hand. It was a gentle graze of the fingers, friendly, teasing, nothing more, but Jean-Luc didn’t speak for fear that some inappropriate declaration of love would escape his mouth.

“The philosopher shouldn’t care,” she said, the starlight catching in her eyes. “He has seen the true world and looked past the projections he had seen all his life.”

Plato evidently forgot to describe the vision of loveliness that tempted the philosopher outside of the cave. That, or he was ashamed that love of a woman had managed to exceed the pure and noble love of wisdom.

His comm-badge let out a shrill chirp just then, pulling him from the verge of clasping her hand and keeping it on top of his. He instead took his hand back, listened to the message, and stood up. He bid Beverly goodbye, promising that he would try his best to make it to the recital, and then left his quarters. One could swear they heard him exhale a sigh of sad relief when he stepped across the threshold.

Dance me to the wedding, now, dance me on and on. Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long. We’re both of us beneath our love, we’re both of us above. Dance me to the end of love.

In her dreams, they were in the graveyard of the colony where she used to live. He wore a suit that fit him well, though rather old-fashioned. There was a top hat resting on his head, and his jacket had long tails. Sometimes she was wearing her grandmother’s wedding dress, the one she had admired when she was a child, though there was a small stain under the arm and the white tulle was yellowing with age. Sometimes she wore nothing at all, though he didn’t seem to notice. They were dancing, a slow waltz beneath the arching canopy of the weeping willow and above the graves of ancestors, of friends. He held her gently, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. There were tears streaming down his face, as if this was the last dance, rather than the first. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the cloud of her burnished-copper hair.

“Don’t go,” he said, weeping. “Don’t leave me again.”

She turned her head to reply but his lips were on hers, and this was the moment she would become aware of her strange nakedness, if this was one of those dreams where she wore nothing, and this was when the rain would begin to fall from the gathering clouds, and this was when she would remember they were dancing in a graveyard, and there were two graves that were freshly dug, the tombstone had their names on it, except under her first name there was his last name instead of the one she always thought she’d die with, beloved wife of Jean-Luc Picard, and then he spun her around and there was Jack standing beneath the willow tree. Her dead husband. Jack.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Jack, I’m so sorry.”

And then she was awake in her own bed, and breathing fast, and she raised her hand to her cheeks, and there she found trails left by tears she didn’t know she had shed.

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born. Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn. Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn. Dance me to the end of love.

He did come to the recital, after all. He sat on her right, quietly wondering how it was that the dress she was wearing looked just like the one that she wore in his dreams. He couldn’t focus on the sound of the violin, though the music was true, and flawless, and very real. He could only think of her, of the way she smiled to herself when the violin soared higher and higher, the way she seemed both lost in the music and yet grounded in the room, in her chair. She was the first to rise to her feet when the music was finished, her hands fluttering like two pale and sinuous birds as she clapped. And even before the applause died down, Jean-Luc found himself asking her whether she’d like to come to his quarters for a drink.

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin. Dance me through the panic, till I’m gathered safely in. Touch me with your naked hand, or touch me with your glove. Dance me to the end of love.

She was stretched out on his couch, holding a small glass of port wine that was nearly drained. There was a flush in her cheeks, and she was laughing.

“Don’t lie,” she said. “I know you’re an excellent dancer. I saw you at Miles and Keiko’s wedding. Why didn’t you dance with me then, Jean-Luc?”

“I danced with the bride,” he said. “One customary dance, and that was it.”

“Dance with me now.”

“I told you I don’t dance.”

“I don’t care. Dance with me, Jean-Luc.”

She drank the rest of the port, and swung her feet off the couch. She was next to him, she was pulling him to his feet, she was taking one of his hands in hers, and putting the other one around her waist. She smelled of antiseptic and something flowery, clean yet natural, proper yet wild. He let her sway with him, revolving in one place. There was no music, but they kept perfect rhythm. Neither of them said a word as they danced in the dimly lit room, under the stars, between the furniture. She didn’t say a word when he drew her closer, barely an inch of space between them. He said nothing when she put her lips on his, and they were still dancing, kissing, dreaming that this was all there ever needed to be to life, to living. That there was no need for concealing love, for feeling guilty about love, or for repressing love. To dance without music, in the light of millions of distant stars yet to be explored, in the arms of the person who loved you, this was all that was needed. All that should be needed.

Dance me to the end of love.

#star trek #star trek tng #jean luc picard #captain picard #beverly crusher #dr. crusher #picard/crusher #star trek the next generation #merrymonthofcohen #songfic #leonard cohen #dance me to the end of love #p/c

[caladeniablue]

Year of Hell meets Joan of Arc. With a dash of Endgame.

May 5th contribution to the Star Trek x Cohen event, inspired by the song Joan of Arc. Because I love the Year of Hell episode. And Janeway. And the song too.  @killitwithtears

#merrymonthofcohen #star trek fandom event #leonard cohen x star trek #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #Year of Hell episode

[abunchoflonesomeheroes]

Only 4 days left...

The first of May is approaching rapidly and I hope everyone has their stories ready.

We will be in for a treat on our first day of the Merry Month of Cohen as both @caladeniablue​ and @theredheadedcaptain​ will delight us with some good VOY fiction! Stay tuned.

PS: It is still time to join! The more the merrier!

#merrymonthofcohen #star trek fanfiction event #fanfiction #soon my minions

[regionalpancake]

Out of the Game - Regionalpancake - Star Trek: Picard [Archive of Our Own]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Raffi Musiker & Cristóbal Rios Characters: Raffi Musiker, Cristóbal Rios, (mentioned) Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Angst, Episode: s02e10 Farewell, not so much a fix-it as a fixate-on-it, these two deserved better, or at the very least a little mourning, You_Want_It_Darker, Merry Month of Cohen Summary: Aboard La Sirena, Raffi tries to come to terms with her friend’s decision.

Written for the @you-want-it-darker​ angst fest. Thank you so much to Servalan for organising our yearly dose of angst/trek/cohen!

#angst #blame canon for this - I know I do #regionalpancakewrites #regionalpancakeedits #raffi musiker #cristobal rios #you_want_it_darker #merrymonthofcohen

[grissomesque]

It’s the casual thoughtlessness of it all, Kathryn thinks, gazing speculatively at Inspector Call Me Kashyk, Please pacing around her briefing room. Chakotay is nowhere to be found today, either because he’s wholly unbothered by this spectacle or because it bothers the hell out of him, and she won’t know which unless he deigns to tell her. She’s less… aware of the interiority of her first officer now than ever before. Since the ordeal with the Ramuran. Like he, too, is now a closed society, or maybe just closed to her.

He should be here for this.

#merry month of cohen #this - uh - turned out to be about twice as long as i'd expected #no chapters / no beta we die like janeway (does not die in this fic) #you_want_it_darker #j/c #merrymonthofcohen #fic #star trek voyager #counterpoint #fic*

[mia-cooper]

It’s a long and lonely journey for a woman who longs for things she won’t allow herself to have.

Written for the #merrymonthofcohen.

#miawrites #st:voy #merrymonthofcohen

[devoverest]

My modest contribution -- a.k.a. “When all else fails, write a drabble” -- to @killitwithtears‘s Merry Month of Cohen. Warm thanks to @curator-on-ao3 for beta. 

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay (Star Trek), Matrix alien from "Coda" Additional Tags: Episode: s3e15 Night, Depression, suicide plan referenced, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Drabble, Angst, Inspired by Music, Tumblr Fic Event, Merry Month of Cohen Summary:

Depression lies, even to Captain Kathryn Janeway.

“You're in a dangerous profession, Captain. You face death every day. There'll be another time, and I'll be waiting. Eventually you'll come into my Matrix and you will nourish me for a long, long time.” Alien posing as Edward Janeway, “Coda," written by Jeri Taylor.

The Shadow of Your Wound

From the day Voyager enters the Void, nothingness creeps in and slowly buries you.

Chakotay comes to cajole. The pedestal he once carved rots to crumbs beneath you.

The demon with your father’s face calls your name daily. He's slept at your center since the first crash, the Terra Nova. You can see that now.

You once clung to grief, hoping it would sink you—a young, romantic delusion.

Here, your pain is no credential. You have conquered nothing, learned nothing, loved nothing.

One more mission, from Void into matrix, and your breath, your flesh, will nourish him at last.

#merrymonthofcohen #leonard cohen x star trek #st:voy #captain kathryn janeway #avalanche #episode: coda