A/n: this is my first work in a long time and my first time writing for COD, so I hope it’s okay. I tried to make it gender neutral but if I accidently missed something please let me know so I can fix it.
Copying, reposting, or input into any form of AI is prohibited and will result in being blocked immediately.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Simon prefers a strong black tea bend of some sort with minimal sugar and sometimes a splash of milk depending on his mood.
Simon drags his feet as he crosses the threshold into your shared apartment after his mission that ran long due to complications. He texted you when he was headed back from base so he’s not surprised to find you in the Kitchenette sipping on a mug of tea. “Welcome home, Si.” You get up and hold out your hand to him, letting him set the pace for what physical touch he’s ready for after the difficult mission. He intertwined your fingers and lets out a relieved sigh before letting go to make a cuppa for himself. “I've got it, sit down and relax for a bit.” You smile at him and pour another with the kettle that’s still hot. You prepare it with your back to him, only adding a teaspoon of sugar and getting the milk from the fridge before setting the two on the small table in front of him. He looks at it and asks, “’This your tea, love?” “Yeah, I just thought it might help you sleep better.” You start rambling on about it until Simon gets up silently and hugs you, gear be damned. He drinks after holding you, his thoughtful sweetheart, a bit longer.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
He prefers coffee to tea, but his coffee is maybe only a bit over half actual coffee. It’s filled with sugar, flavored syrups and cream.
He raises his brow in suspicion at the two mugs with string and a small square of paper attached at the end you approach him with. You sit down snuggled up next to him and hand him the mug with a bright smile. “Oh nae, ye’er not tryin’ tae convert me ta tea too are ye, bonnie? While ye may stand more of a chance than L.T., dinnae think that means ye’ll win.” “It’s not black tea, don’t worry. It’s herbal tea, I made it just how you like your coffee, and it’s much smoother and less bitter than the tea the boys drink.” He looks at you still somewhat unconvinced, that is until you sit in his lap, with your own cup in hand and a pout gracing your lips. Johnny groans and finally gives in to you. He takes a small hesitant drink. “That's no’ bad. Dinnae ye dare tell ’em or I’ll find ye.” He puts the mug on the coffee table behind you with a sly smirk. He tickles your sides causing you to shriek. “Johnny! Stop! Stop it! I’m going to spill!” He relents with a low chuckle and replaces his teasing touch with firm hands on your waist holding you on his lap as you take a sip of your own tea. He whispers in your ear, “It’s sweet, just like ye.”
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
He likes a good London fog so the idea of a floral flavor doesn’t faze him. The most happy and willing to try it of the bunch.
Kyle walks through the door and slowly bends down and takes off his boots in the doorway. His whole demeanor shows exhaustion. “‘ello love,” he says, his voice nearly sounding as tired as his eyes looked. You walk up to him and kiss his lips before kissing the bandage on his brow. “I made something for you,” you smile sweetly before going into the Kitchenette in your small shared apartment. You return with two mugs of herbal tea in hand, smile not faltering as you hand him one. His lips turn up slightly as he takes the mug from your hand. He takes a sip as you tell him, “You had mentioned camomile tea helping you after your interrogation training, and I know your favorite is a London fog. I prepared it how you like your tea but this one has lavender in it too.” You beam at him and he takes another drink. “Thank you, it’s perfect, just what I needed right now.” You take his hand and lead him to the couch. You help him take off the rest of the tactical gear and sit him down. You put it away before returning, grasping the remote and curling up into his side to watch something comforting.
Captain John Price
His staple is black tea, like Simon, but sometimes he’ll have the occasional black coffee.
When you bring it he drinks without looking at what it is first. So when he tastes the smooth floral tea instead of his regular bitter taste, it shocks him for a moment, not what he was expecting. After you see the surprised look on his face you explain. “It’s herbal tea. It’s supposed to be calming. We all know you could use it.” He attempts to persuade you that he needs to get his caffeine so he can keep working on the pile of paperwork he brought home. “You can finish that tomorrow. You just got back. Just be here with me.” He lets out a disarming sigh. “I can never seem to say no to you, dangerous you are.” You crouch where you stand at his side and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder.
Summary: He could feel heat crawl up his back and into his face. Viktor, she had called. That voice would haunt him tonight, for many nights. Viktor, a sweet exhale with a slight whine. Were it any other daily visit, he would have been able to let it slide into the abyss, lock it away until he was alone and could safely lose himself in the tangle of thoughts. Yet she said it here, in the echoing quiet of a dark, empty lab, into the shell of his ear. Viktor , he would hear for weeks to come.
a/n: more of a reader than writer, but this skinny twink had me in a chokehold in his first moments on screen. Set in vaguely S1 Act 1/2
His leg always worsened as the clock’s hands ticked past two. Late lab nights were more and more common as the demand for progress increased.
The lab doors swished open, dull thuds trudging in. Scents of warm and sweet pastries wafted in. Viktor’s stomach growled. The sandwich Jayce had shoved in his workspace at noon felt distant.
“I swear they’re trying to kill me,” she yawned, leaning on his desk. Viktors own hand twitched as he saw her smooth, delicately manicured hand set the cup in the center of his vision. She huffed, shrugging her coat off. Her cravat was hung loosely around her neck, the open top of her button up offering a view of her collarbones and a little something more if he strained enough to look. Viktor turned back to the experiment. It sparked.
“No more than Hextech tends to,” he said.
“It took me over two hours to find the books she wanted us to research from and then the library had the audacity to keep it on a two hour loan inside the library.”
“Hm, you were lovely enough to get me coffee?”
“Hot chocolate. We’ve had enough caffeine today,” she said.
A sip revealed that it was sweet and thick chocolate, topped with a generous layer of whipped cream. It struck a contrast between the air of the lab and its steaming contents. Cold nights were never much of a problem except when Viktor worked for so long he forgot to adjust the thermostat. It was alright. He just needed to work out one more aspect before leaving. If he could just get the frequency to reach the pitch before overheating—
“Viktor,” she sighed, voice thick with exhaustion but honeyed in a way that made his heart stop in his throat. “It’s past two. Our brains are lifeless grey jelly now.”
He could feel heat crawl up his back and into his face. Viktor, she had called. That voice would haunt him tonight, for many nights. Viktor, a sweet exhale with a slight whine. Were it any other daily visit, he would have been able to let it slide into the abyss, lock it away until he was alone and could safely lose himself in the tangle of thoughts. Yet she said it here, in the echoing quiet of a dark, empty lab, into the shell of his ear. Viktor, he would hear for weeks to come.
He stood abruptly and put his weight on the edge of the desk as he rushed to the other end where some notes lied from an earlier calculation, ramblings safe from her understanding and far enough away to cool himself.
“The chairs alone would’ve been enough to depress any man within an hour,” he said. Would she notice his escape? Viktor glanced back.
“Ugh, don’t remind me. You’d think if this city could fund HexTech it could afford chairs that don't share the comfort level of stone.” She lifted her drink up before wincing, stretching out her hands carefully and thoroughly. Each digit flexed. Viktor wondered how they’d feel in his hair, pulling at the roots. Neatly shaped nails scraping against his back and grasping at his—
The whir of the Hexcore he’d forgotten sped up to a high pitch and lashed out a pulse of electric blue. The metal encasing grew red hot before breaking under pressure and exploding. She gasped and threw her arms up to cover her face as she stumbled back. Surrounded by singed notes and smoking mechanism, the Hexcore lay still, its glow reduced and steady.
Viktor scrambled to reach her. His leg protested and spasmed, but he finally reached her and held her by the shoulders, sliding down to her wrists.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. Stupid, stupid. He knew it was too much energy. That test didn’t have any more probability of success than the last ten. Like an idiot, he’d just left it there without a single warning or precaution. It wasn’t terribly volatile, but if he’d been more amiss in his calculations than he thought the explosion could have led to much more. Viktor held her face, searching for marks that were sure to be there. Some remnant soot laid just below her wide open eyes. He brushed it away. It only made it into a larger smudge.
“I’m good, um,” She blinked rapidly, “I–not even a scratch. Just won’t be able to sleep in these clothes anymore.” Academy uniforms would crease horribly after a night, but that was the least of his concerns.
It was just the musings of his deluded searching, but it seemed she leaned into his hand, relaxed in his hold. He glanced down at her sleeves and found them marked with unfortunate grey.
“I am so sorry, I should have–”
“Hey,” She took his hand in hers. They were warm, soft. Her lips, ones he’d spent sleepless nights picturing for so long the lingering sight of them sent shivers down his spine, twisted into a smirk. “Wouldn’t be your first failed experiment to blow up in my face.”
Viktor pulled his gaze up to frown at her. “That was not failed, I was testing the–”
“Nope, it bleached off an entire eyebrow. Failed. And you didn’t tell me until after I gave my presentations.”
“Your argument was flawless. I wasn’t going to let appearances keep you from speaking”
“Three presentations. One eyebrow.”
“I was right. Anyway, Jayce lost more.”
She laughed. “At least he still looked good with half a beard,” she said, walking to the corner where they kept cleaning supplies. His hands felt cold again. She returned with a rag and broom in hand. She was no stranger to messes into the lab.
A yawn bubbled up and Viktor was halfway through it before he realized.
“Alright, kněžna, time to go home.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. He had used that term once when she was in one of her stubborn, contrarian moods. Most words that slipped out went unnoticed or in such an annoyed, quick torrent that she never pushed for the meaning. This one, though, caught her attention. He had been annoyed as well and quickly translated.
“As you wish, little princess,” he had mocked in response to her growing demands.
It was only a matter of time before the term was weaponized.
“I have work to do.” Viktor slumped back down. His leg was a little worse for wear, stiff from awkward positions. He found himself yanked back, chair swiveling around to face her as she leaned down on the arm rests, trapping him. His breath hitched. That familiar thumping in his chest returned. It wasn’t enough to stifle the annoyance at being interrupted.
She settled him with a look down her nose, exposing the curve of her neck.
“Your last test blew up, Viktor. It’s time to sleep. I will carry you back myself if I have to and you know how that’ll end.”
Last time she decided enough was enough he found himself half-slung over her shoulders like a long, bumpy sack. A few strides to the door had knocked the air out of her every breath and him and his bones creaked in protest before giving in. It wasn’t her preferred method, she generally bribed him with treats, but tonight's bribe had been coated in fine grey dust at no other fault than his own.
Now, with cloudy thoughts of leaning forward and bridging the gap, Viktor could hardly be blamed for an instinctual hum of affirmation, politely agreeing to any words falling from her very close, soft-looking lips. Exhales mingling, she could have asked for his heart and he’d carve it out himself. He was brought back to reality when she leaned to the side and yawned, back arching slightly. Her head dipped low with half-closed eyes as she turned back to him. She whispered between them.
“I want to sleep.” Another sharp jolt to his heart. “But I can’t until I know you’re taken care of. Come on, let’s go home.” She held out her hand to him. The sensation was still a bit foreign, but unlike the strained pleasantries of Piltover, it felt nice, really, to slide his hand into hers. To feel the palms against each other and join in warmth.
They walked back to his apartment at the insistence of her judging gaze. It couldn't be guaranteed that he’d sleep until she saw him at rest herself. He watched her fumble with her key, laughing to himself as each failed attempt mounted her frustration as he did nothing but stared with smirk. She cursed her professor and her professor’s mother as she finally unlocked the door. On the floor went her book bag. Haphazardly along the couch went their coats. At long last, Viktor reached his bed. He pulled a corner of the covers down and sat, letting out a breath of relief when he stretched out his legs. There was a brief thought about something important. Wrinkles and sleeping.
He’d just shrugged off his leg brace and decided that changing out of his clothes was too much trouble when she stumbled into his room, hesitant at the threshold. At that moment, Viktor wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her in the context of his room and found that he liked the idea, after a moment, he realized he liked it a bit too much as it no longer felt so cold.
“You are not wrinkling your academy clothes,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. There must have been something weary in his gaze because she sighed as she pushed away from the frame and fully entered the room. “Sit up. I’ll at least undo your tie.”
Viktor gave a weak shrug and closed his eyes. He felt more than saw when she closed the distance and fumbled with his cravat. He inhaled sharply and looked at her quickly. On her knees before him. Her fingers brushed underneath, ticklish on his chest. It was somewhat cute to see her focused frown, the small struggle she had with the security of the knot. Eventually, it came undone.
Her eyes flicked up to his. For a breath, they stared. Their exhales mingled.
Spurred by sleep deprivation’s lack of inhibition, she leaned up and fluttered her eyes closed. Motivated by the selfish part of him screaming to just let himself have this, Viktor met her in the middle.
She was right there, lips pursed and stars, she tasted sweet. Viktor knew he was done for. There was nothing left to keep his hand from splaying against her waist and the other buried in her bergamot scented hair. All thoughts of why he hadn't done this before left.
He kissed her hard.
Heated and fervent, like it was his last. She melted against him, placing her leg between his and pushing him down. She gripped his hair. Before he could catch himself, a desperate whine escaped.
“Do that again,” she whispered against him, hot breath fanning over his lips.
“It’s not exactly on demand.” Viktor’s hand, slightly trembling, slid down to rest at her hip, thumb caressing it in a slow pattern.
Her nails grazed against his scalp and she bent down until she was nearly lying on top of him, every inch of her body pressed hotly into him. Viktor didn’t even register the sound that left him. It wasn’t until he felt her kiss twist into a smirk on his neck and he did it again.
“The right conditions have to be met,” he panted. She hummed.
After a brief pause, she let her weight fall to the side of him, arms circling his neck in a tight embrace. His body followed almost of its own accord, mourning the loss of heat on top of him. She still played with the outgrown strands of his hair, eyes fighting to stay open as she pressed soft kisses to his cheekbone, ear, collarbone, any part of him that was in reach. The cool night air began to settle over them as his breathing evened.
He had spent restless nights agonizing over the look in her eyes. A devastating visual display of quiet tenderness that he recognized so acutely in his own heart. Except now, now it burned a little brighter. Demanded more, on the cusp of outgrowing its space and overflowing into the real world.
Viktor had been too enamoured with the soft glow when he first noticed it in himself. It had been a sunshine-like presence, novel and pleasant. Every time he went to snuff it out, for both of their skates, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. To part from it.
With rough pull, Viktor managed to get the blankets out from underneath them. His lithe frame entwined with hers as he held her closer in the warmth. The embers in his heart had long ago grown into a barely contained explosion. He would burn for her. An eternal flame, bright and unabashed even when its mortal vessel waned and decayed into dust.
Already half-asleep, but with a slight upturn of her mouth, she mumbled, “Goodnight, Viktor.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/2
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron)
Additional Tags: Begging, Langst, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron)-centric, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Has Issues, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Medical Inaccuracies, Whumptober 2025, Whumptober, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, POV Lance (Voltron), Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings
Series: Part 3 of Whumptober 2025
Summary:
This was never supposed to happen. There wasn't even a real mission happening, just a quick meeting and festival on a planet then they all could go back to learning how to be Team Voltron. Of course, the universe couldn't give them that, now Lance was stuck begging for help from Galra officers who weren't even meant to be there.
He just hopes someone manages to make it before something terrible happens.
The grass was cool against Sirius’ back. Fortunately the night was warm and he didn’t feel the need to go back up to the castle. James was lying next to him, squinting up at the constellations Sirius had been pointing out. Somewhere, a few feet away, Moony and Wormtail had fallen asleep on the rug they’d brought with them. Peter had his head resting on Remus’ sweater covered stomach and Sirius could help but think about how sweet and relaxed they looked. Exams had been stressful and they had all begun sneaking out to the quidditch pitch at night whenever they needed to clear their heads. Sirius worried about how much his friends were studying so he tried his best to distract them when he could. He hated seeing any of them so exhausted and overworked.
Lost in thought, Sirius almost missed James’ responses. “Yeah Pads? What’s up?”
“Do you love him?” Sirius had been meaning to ask James about this for a while, but there never seemed to be a good moment. He didn’t want to go and make a big deal out of it.
“I- er, what?” James sat up quickly, surprised. Neither James nor Regulus had told him, likely nervous about his response, but Sirius could tell. He knew his brother and he knew his best friend.
“Uh, yeah,” James lay back down, looking back up at the night sky with a fond expression. Sirius had a feeling he knew which constellation James was looking at. “Yeah. I do.”
“Does he know that?”
“Yeah he does.” There was so much adoration in James’ eyes that Sirius could feel his heart swelling. A sense of relief flowed over him.
“Good. You’ll be good for him.”
James rolled over to look at him. He smiled softly at his best friend, “Thanks Pads.”
Sirius looked away, fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist. One he never took off. One Regulus didn’t know he still had. The silver snake charm glinted in the moonlight. In a soft voice he asked James, “Be there for him please, not like I was.”
“Hey,” James whispered back, resting a hand on Sirius’ forearm. Sirius could feel James’ looking at him, even though he didn’t look back. “He loves you too, you know.”
Sirius looked up towards the Leo constellation on impulse, eye naturally finding the Regulus star. He thought of the night he left. He thought of the pained look his brother had on his face, when he saw him in the dining hall for the first time since Sirius had decided to leave that hell hole. He thought of the blank looks his brother gave him everyday in the halls for the remainder of that year. And the next.
He looked back over at James, James with care and love and hope written all over his face. “Maybe he will. One day.”
You know what's more heartbreaking than losing that one good essay you had a while ago because your students email got deleted?
Losing a fanfic wip on Google Drive because your students email got deleted.
Of all the things I saved from my drive, that one Voltron wip that carried me through the end of senior year was not one of them. And that sucks. I had so many good ideas in it and A SKILLS CHART FOR THE PALADINS. And what did I do? LOSE IT. The only way to get it back is to sit with my old principal on her personal computer and go through all my old stuff on there. And I do not want to explain to my past PRINCIPAL that I am bothering her about this for a fanfic wip. It was called like "to red and b(l)ack again" or something along those lines.
tell us more about your harry potter aus please o:
Oh man get ready cause here’s a list of all the current ones (that I’ve written down), I’ll write up a short, one or two sentence description of what they are too so you know what they’re about: “I Punched a Snake Once” AU - “Harry Potter is the first to admit that he isn’t the best at forward-thinking, but deciding to tackle a snake in the middle of the dueling club was probably one of his worst ideas yet.”
Father’s Eyes AU - (Based this one off of a tumblr post I saw) “ “Didn’t think your parents could afford new robes, Weasley.” The blond boy sneered. “Sorry,” Harry replied, “But what did you just call me?” “
HiddenTome AU - “The last thought the child had, before he plummeted to what he assumed would be his demise, was that his aunt really should keep some of those flower seeds, the Ebbot Town Golden Flower really was the prettiest he’d ever seen.”King Of Wizards AU - (Another one from a tumblr post) “Harry could only stare at the sheer amount of names on the parchment. He was barely eleven for crying out loud, and now he was head of almost a hundred wizarding families?”
Lonely Hearts Club AU - “He’d been desperate for someone, anyone to talk to, for so very long, he’d forgotten why he put himself into the diary in the first place, and the moment he saw someone else’s words on his pages, he decided that, for ending his eternal solitude, he owed this “Harry Potter” his life.”
Magictech AU - “These all came to a head one sunny day on July 24th, 2191, when a rather upset-looking owl landed on Professor Dumbledore’s desk, a letter in it’s beak. When McGonagall retold the tale later that day to a rather confused Madame Pomphrey, she made sure to get the exact tone of the outburst that followed; “He’s on Mars?” “
Mama McGonnagall AU - “ “I suppose you’re right, Minerva.” He said with a sigh. “But who can we give him to instead? The blood wards - “ “Are inconsequential.” She cut him off. “I’ll look after Harry. Hogwarts should be easily safe enough for one little boy.” “
The Adventures of Violet Dursley - (Aka my mega au and love of my life) “Violet smiled, though internally she was frowning. What kind of child acts like that, especially one thought to have saved the wizarding world? She sighed, and, though she felt a little guilty, was incredibly happy she’d chosen not to keep her last name.”
And those are just the ones that have their own folders on google docs, I also have a drabble folder, but so far it only has one story in it, called “Nothing Beats A Club”, which is once again based on a tumblr post, and is about Vernon Dursley hitting Voldemort on the head with a golf club.
It was Sirius who taught Regulus about the stars and constellations as a way to distract him from what their parents did. Space helped connect the two in a way that meant more than blood. And when Sirius went to Hogwarts the first time he came home he promised Reg he would take him to see the view from the astronomy tower as soon as he started Hogwarts.
Except he never did. He was too busy planning pranks or hanging out with his friends or running around the castle. Reg quickly learned that though his namesake might be 'the heart of the lion', he, in fact, was not. That’s why Regulus is usually found at the astronomy tower at night. He’s hoping that one day Sirius will remember his promise and show him the stars again.
