#firecobraclaw writes

[merwangaza]

Hello please do not skip

A whole year has passed in which we have lost our loved ones, our children and our friends. We had a home and a life and we had dreams, but unfortunately all of that has been destroyed and all that remains for us is displacement from one place to another, from death to death. We now lack the most basic necessities of life: water, food and medicine. I am writing to you and I have no hope except for your big heart to help me and my family. We need you and the mercy in your hearts. Thank you.

@90-ghost @operation-firecobraclaw @fundacionarellanoalonso @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

[merwangaza]

@90-ghost @operation-firecobraclaw @fundacionarellanoalonso @sar-soor @ibtisams

14 days of the Israeli siege on Jabalia and Northern Gaza.

[operation-firecobraclaw]

Should’ve Known Right From the Start You Can’t Predict the End

Sheith Month: Day 1 (Marriage/Divorce) 

SHEITH MONTH PROMPTS

Shiro had moved into his spacious apartment with a purpose in mind.  The memories he’d made there were irreplaceable, and as he sat at the kitchen counter, glancing over his shoulder at the slightly disorganized living room behind him, he couldn’t help but reminisce.  He’d purchased that couch the day he moved in, and Keith had been the only one available to help him carry it up the two flights of stairs and down to the very end of the hallway.  They’d collapsed atop the cushions, one leaning against the other, and Shiro remembered the soft scent of cotton and cedar.  He loved Keith’s cologne.

Keith hadn’t felt like driving home after helping Shiro settle in, so he stayed, and they watched a few episodes of Black Mirror together.

Shiro remembered the taste of citrus beer on Keith’s lips; the kiss was a surprise, and it would have knocked Shiro on his ass if he hadn’t already been sitting down.  It was unexpected, but he chased after it with alarming fervor when Keith pulled away.

A lot of memories were made on that couch, in this apartment -- memories that urged a reluctant smile from his lips and colored his cheeks a delicate pink.  Keith was nothing if not passionate in everything he did.

Shiro turned back to his glass of whiskey and sipped at the customary two shots of liquor.  His head was starting to swim a little from the last pour he’d downed just twenty minutes ago.  He heard Keith emerge from the bedroom, tossing back the rest of his drink to the sound of suitcase wheels rolling off the carpet and onto the hardwood floor.  Keith didn’t live with Shiro, but he kept a lot of his stuff at his apartment.  Shiro pictured Keith’s belongings carelessly stored in the suitcase -- books, guitar picks, headphones tangled in a mess of ripped jeans and a worn leather jacket.  Damn it, Shiro loved that jacket.

He set his glass down as gently as he could on the countertop.  The air surrounding them was thick with words already spoken but ones they were desperate to say again in hopes of changing the other’s mind.  They were going to figure this out.  They always figured things out.  There was never a fight they couldn’t reconcile from.

Except this wasn’t a fight.  It was just the end of the road, an accord that simply couldn’t be reached.

Shiro listened to Keith’s footsteps as he crossed the room toward him, and he closed his eyes, swallowing against the tightness in his throat.  His resolve trembled as the stool beside him scraped across the floor, and Keith took a seat at the counter.  Without looking at him, Shiro poured two, maybe two-and-half, shots of whiskey into his glass and slid it across the counter to Keith.  From his peripherals, he watched the glass rise and fall, emptied of its contents.

He closed his eyes again and breathed deep. Cotton and cedar.

“Shiro, I…” Keith’s voice cracked over his name.

The sound was enough to shatter Shiro’s resolve, if only for a single moment.  Almost simultaneously, they stood from their seats, Keith’s chair clattering loudly to the ground behind him.  They were locked in each other’s embrace in seconds, Shiro’s hand clawing through Keith’s hair, while Keith worked to undo each button of Shiro’s shirt.  Deft, as usual.  His shirt was on the floor and Keith’s legs were around his waist, and in moments, they were on the couch.

Between heavy breaths and heavier heart beats, Keith told Shiro he loved him.  Shiro said it back, and the ache in his chest eased.  Everything’s okay, see?  He loves you, his heart whispered.  He loves you he loves you he loves you.

But as they lay together now, snug on the couch with Keith’s head resting in the crook of his neck, his lips soft against his skin, Shiro whispered, “Nothing’s changed.”  He didn’t say it to hurt Keith.  He didn’t even say it to reaffirm his position.  He said it in defeat, realizing for himself that, despite how much he loved the man he held in his arms, nothing had changed.

“I know,” Keith replied, his voice low, and Shiro could have sworn he felt tears against his neck.

Dressed now and standing by the door, Keith was hesitant to leave, Shiro hesitant to let him go -- but it was time.  Shiro took a small step toward him but froze and instead asked in a broken whisper, “Can I...?”

Without answering him, Keith closed the gap between them and hugged Shiro tight around his waist, pressing his cheek hard against his chest.  Shiro collected his best friend in one last embrace, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he rested his chin atop his head.  God, he loved him.

It was around 11 PM when Keith left in an Uber.  Just before the door had closed behind Keith, Keith gave him a trembling, tearful smile that told Shiro You’re going to be okay.  Then, in a final word, with every ounce of love behind his voice, Keith told him, “You’re going to be an incredible father.”

And then he was gone.

Shiro, hand still wrapped around the door knob, pressed his forehead against the door’s cool wooden surface.  As soon as he heard the car drive off, he let the tears fall, his chest heaving.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny velvet box that contained an onyx ring lined with an opal band -- Keith’s birthstone stone.  He opened the box and stared at the ring, feeling completely hollowed out.

Moments later, when the emptiness became too much the bear, he snapped the box closed, shutting within it all the memories he’d made and the ones he’d never make -- not with Keith or the family Shiro wanted with him, the kind of family Keith never wanted.

Shiro hadn’t had the chance to ask him.  Now he never would.

[merwangaza]

Hello, please wait

We are a family from Gaza. We have lost everything. We live in very bad conditions. We do not have anything. We have lived through displacement more than 5 times. Water, food, and medicine are missing. We do not have anything to sustain life except your help. We need your help so that we can continue life and find the way to reach a safe place

@90-ghost @operation-firecobraclaw @fundacionarellanoalonso @riding-with-the-wild-hunt

[merwangaza]

Hello please do not skip

We in Gaza live what no one else on earth lives. We live death, we live hunger, we live systematic killing against us and the whole world is watching. We have become absolutely certain that if we do not find someone to help us escape this ongoing killing against us, then we will be among those killed at any moment. Please help us. We are still fleeing from death to death. Please help us.

@90-ghost @operation-firecobraclaw @fundacionarellanoalonso @sar-soor @el-shab-hussein

[merwangaza]

Hello, please, a little time, a little donation saves the lives of people who no longer have anything to do but ask you and ask for your help, because we are absolutely certain that you are the ones with compassionate hearts, those who stand against injustice, against persecution, against displacement, against starvation, and against genocide in Gaza. I am writing these words to you while my heart is crushed with pain due to my inability to provide any assistance, whether to my wife, children, or grandchildren. Please help us. My wife needs treatment, and I have no choice but to ask you to help us. Your little donation is worth a lot to us. thank you all

@90-ghost @fundacionarellanoalonso @operation-firecobraclaw @el-shab-hussein

[merwangaza]

We have been living in Gaza for more than 10 months, death and destruction.The ongoing killing and what shocks us the most is that the countries that claim human rights, children’s rights, women’s rights and animal rights are watching what is happening to us from killing, starvation and destruction of all means of livelihood and they are still silent. I hope that you will not remain silent and that you will help us so that we can live.

@90-ghost @operation-firecobraclaw @fundacionarellanoalonso @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sar-soor @lessaara

Legit fundraiser help us

Old account verified by @90-ghost

[merwangaza]

Hello, I am writing to you today, and I hope for you. My old account on Tumblr has been suspended, and today I am trying to recover it, but I do not know if it is possible or not. We are a family from Gaza. The war on Gaza has destroyed everything for us and depleted everything we have. I am looking forward to your help.

@90-ghost @fundacionarellanoalonso @operation-firecobraclaw

[operation-firecobraclaw]

"Don't be scared. I just need you to come with me for a minute."

Okay, so I cheated.  I’m using this dialogue prompt as a Sheith Month prompt too.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy this terribly self-indulgent vampire AU.  Kinda NSFW.

SHEITHMONTH DAY 3: Sandwich/Drinking

Shiro stood just outside of the room where Keith was being held, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.  It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d brought him to the compound, and from what he could tell, Keith was still unconscious.  Shiro felt awful.  He could only imagine how confused and terrified – how hungry – he would be when he woke up.  He didn’t like having to keep him hidden in some dark and empty room, but the fewer people who knew about this, the better.

Besides, if Shiro had any say in it, Keith wouldn’t stay like this for long.

Rolo walked down the corridor toward him, a smirk upturning his lips.  “The council isn’t thrilled with you right now.  You know it’s forbidden to turn anyone they don’t explicitly approve of.”

“I’m aware,” Shiro said, not bothering to look in his direction.  He lifted his head when he heard sounds coming from inside of the room – frantic shuffling, heavy breathing, a fading heart beat…  “Did you bring what I asked?”

“Fresh from the lab.”  Rolo reached into his coat pocket and produced a vial of transparent green liquid.  He tossed it to Shiro who caught it deftly with one hand.  “So, what, you don’t want your pet to turn?”

“He’s not my–” Shiro shook his head and exhaled a deep breath through his nose, refusing to take the bait.  His relationship with Keith had been the main topic of conversation throughout the coven for months, and it drove him crazy.  Nobody could seem to wrap their head around how Shiro could be with a human.  The council had also been wary of Keith knowing Shiro’s true nature, threatening to dispatch him if he turned out to be a threat.  Shiro, outwardly, agreed to their terms – internally, he swore to kill them all of they ever laid a hand on him.  Glancing at Rolo from the corner of his eye, he muttered, almost begrudgingly, “Thanks for your help.”

Rolo shrugged, turning to take his leave.  “Don’t mention it.  It’s enough to see you give a big ‘fuck you’ to the council.  Hope they don’t chew your ass too hard.”

Shiro watched him round the corner before unlocking the door, cautiously pushing it open just wide enough for him to squeeze through.  The strip of light from the hallway cut into the darkness, and Shiro found Keith curled up in the corner of the room, nearly still as stone.  Guilt twisted sharply at his insides.  How could he let this happen?  Hunters had been tracking him for months; he should have known they’d be keeping tabs on Keith, too.  They nearly killed him trying to get to Shiro.

Well – they were dead now.

“Keith?” he called softly to him.  When he didn’t get a response, he slowly crossed the room, wishing not to frighten him more than he already was.  “Keith, hey.  It’s me – Shiro.”

As Shiro drew near, Keith lifted his head, just enough to peek through his tousled bangs.

“Don’t be scared,” Shiro whispered, leaning down and holding out his hand to him.  “I just need you to come with me for a minute, okay?  I’m going to get you out of this room now, bring you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

He didn’t care who saw them; he wasn’t keeping Keith in this room any longer.

For a moment, Keith just stared at his hand before shifting his gaze to meet Shiro’s, his eyes widening in recognition. “Takashi…?” His voice was reduced to a quiet whimper that made Shiro’s heart ache.  Keith slowly reached up then, taking his hand and making a weak attempt to pull himself up.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” Shiro hushed, carefully sliding one arm beneath his knees and the other behind his back before lifting him gently from the floor.  He held Keith close against his chest and listened to his heart beat.  They didn’t have much time.  Keith needed to feed or be cured, and he only had a few hours to decide before nature took its course.

~

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Keith, do you understand what will happen if you don’t?”

They were in Shiro’s quarters, sitting beside each other on the edge of the bed he hardly ever used.  Even in his weary state, Keith managed to look as defiant and stubborn as ever, folding his arms across his chest and locking his gaze onto Shiro’s.  “I understand perfectly, Shiro.  Are you seriously asking me to stay human, even if that means having my memory wiped by the council?  Do you want me to forget you?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, no, of course I don’t want that, Keith, but… this life, it’s– I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially not someone I…”

“Someone you what?”

Yes, because telling Keith you love him will definitely convince him to stay human.  “Nothing, nevermind,” he muttered, dragging a hand down the bottom half of his face.  

“You might be afraid to say it, but I’m not.  I love you, Shiro, and there’s no way in hell I’m about to forget you,” Keith declared with fiery resolve despite the pallor in his features.  He reached out and took Shiro’s hand, tracing his thumb across his knuckles.   “Besides,” he said quietly, a weak smile pulling at his lips.  “Living forever with you doesn’t seem so bad.”

Shiro felt a warm wave of affection wash over him, and he saw no other choice but to yield to Keith’s wishes.  Gently, he pressed a hand against Keith’s chest, coaxing him to lie back before leaning over him, trapping him against the bed.  “Forever is a long time, Keith,” he whispered, his eyes searching the young man’s face, falling to his parted lips.

“I know,” he said quietly, raising his head to steal a soft kiss for himself.  His throat twitched as he swallowed.  “Takashi… I’m… I’m so thirsty.”

There was no going back after this.  Once Keith drank Shiro’s blood, he would cease to be human – but it was what Keith wanted, and in his own selfishness, he almost felt relieved.  Instead of losing Keith altogether, he would have him forever… and forever with Keith didn’t seem so bad at all.  Shiro bit into his own wrist, creating a big enough wound for a constant flow of blood.  “Open your mouth, baby,” he urged, and he held his wrist up as Keith followed his instructions

Shiro watched as the warm, crimson liquid dripped over his lips and onto his tongue.  It wasn’t long before Keith took hold of Shiro’s arm and drank directly from the wound, smearing his face red with blood.  His eyes slid closed as he suctioned his lips around the fissures in his skin, drinking more deeply now.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing so good,” Shiro crooned, stroking a hand through his hair.  He could feel his strength beginning to wane, but it was worth it to have Keith regain his.  When Keith furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, Shiro could see an apology in them.  He only chuckled and shook his head.  “It’s okay, Keith.  Drink your fill.  I’ll be fine.”

After a few more deep gulps, Keith let his head fall back against the bed as he gasped for air, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.  

“How do you feel?” Shiro asked, grazing the back of his fingers against his cheekbone.

It seemed to take a moment for Keith to collect his thoughts – normal for a newborn vampire whose physiology and psyche were rapidly changing by the minute.  When he spoke, he looked slightly embarrassed, “I, uh… Is it… Fuck, is it normal to feel really aroused?”

“Very normal after feeding,” Shiro answered through a soft chuckle.  He kissed him then – it was a hungry, feverish kiss that drew a soft moan from Keith’s lungs, and the sound of it sent a warm rush through Shiro’s body.  It didn’t take long for clothes to be tugged off and thrown to the floor, for the room to be filled with sounds of ecstasy and the scent of sweat and blood.

Between gasping breaths, Keith asked, “Forever… Right?”

Shiro closed his eyes, losing himself in Keith as he pressed his forehead to his and swore to him, “Forever.”

[operation-firecobraclaw]

I was just gonna click the generator a lot to see what there was and this was the first one and i liked it so: "I've been checking you out."

I made dis one special for you.  I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, FRIENDO.  PLEASE ENJOY THIS DETECTIVE AU.

“Sarge, is he actually here?

Shiro squared his shoulders as he strode across the bullpen of the police station, craning his neck to the side to coax a satisfying pop from his joints.  He was headed for the interrogation wing, a case file clutched in hand, when McClain jogged up beside him, disbelief riddled all across the young detective’s face.  “Shit, he is here, isn’t he?” McClain asked again, his lips turning up to form a wry smile.  “You gotta let me in on this one, Sarge.  Please?  It’s Keith Kogane, for Christ’s sake.  What do you even have on him?”

“Sorry, McClain, not today,” Shiro told him, his tone stern.  Lance was a talented detective, good at breaking perps during an interrogation, but this wasn’t just any perp – and Shiro was going to be the one to break him today.  He smirked at the thought.  “As for what we have on him… It’s not much, but it may be enough.  Now, don’t you have three open cases you need to close?”

Lance crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head back with a defeated groan.  “Fine.  Just get this guy, alright?”  With that, he returned to the bullpen.

Captain Arus stood just outside of the interrogation room, peering through the door’s window at none other than Keith Kogane - hitman extraordinaire and the mafia’s favorite pet - who sat back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the metal table.  He looked up when Shiro came into view, flashing him a toothy smirk accompanied with a smug wink.  Shiro shook his head, breathing out a curt chuckle through his nose.  “There he is,” he muttered.

Allura nodded, a quizzical eyebrow raised. “You ready?  I know you’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

“Yeah.”  Too long.  Shiro yanked the door open, and when it closed behind him, he slid the metal panel shut across the window to conceal any view from the outside.

“You flatter me, Detective Shirogane,” Keith started, his tone already exceedingly confident. “A windowless interrogation?  Is it just you and I in here?  Oh, wait a tick.”  His eyes moved up to the camera fixed to the ceiling in the corner of the room.  The small red light that blinked slowly beside the lense told them it was recording.  “That’s a little disappointing.”  Keith folded his hands over his stomach, still leaning back in his chair.  “Well, Detective?  Why am I here?”

“Sergeant,” Shiro corrected him as he stood across the table from Keith.  Though he’d never show it, his heart was on fire, pounding like a battering ram against his ribs.  “And you’re here because I’ve been checking you out - keeping tabs on your little operation.  You finally slipped up, Kogane.”

Keith’s chin tilted upward as he parted his lips in a silent ahh.  “That’s right.  You’re a sergeant now.  Last time we did this, you were just a detective.  Well, congratulations on the promotion, Sarge.  What’s this about me slipping up?”

Shiro clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing into a glare.  “This isn’t going to be like last time.”  He threw the file onto the table, and out spilled dozens of crime scene photos, each displaying the same method of murder – throats slit meticulously from ear to ear – but with several different people.  Keith’s attention was briefly pulled by the photos, and Shiro had already rounded the table to his side, grasping the front of his suit and hoisting him roughly out of the chair.  The hitman growled his protest, his hands clenched around Shiro’s wrists, as he was slammed hard against the wall.  Shiro watched his eyes dart over his shoulder at the camera, and he followed his gaze.  The red light dimmed and faded.

Right on time.

He turned his gaze back to Keith’s, tightening his grip on the man’s threads.  Their faces were mere inches apart, and Shiro could feel the other man’s breath hot and strained against lips.  “Just you and me now, Kogane.”

Keith’s eyes were stone cold, his mouth twisted into an unforgiving snarl – but only for a moment.  All at once, his shoulders slumped, the hard features of his face smoothing over as he breathed out a sigh of relief.  “Fucking finally,” he whispered, grasping the back of Shiro’s neck and yanking him down toward him.

As their lips met, hard and fervent, Shiro slipped his arm around Keith’s lower back, pulling his body flush against his own.  For one sweet moment, the rest of the world faded away into nothing, and the weight that had been crushing Shiro for eight long months was finally beginning to ebb.  Eight months since he’d seen Keith; eight painstaking months since he’d been able to hold him like this.  A blend of longing, relief, and guilt – always guilt – whirled inside of him as he swept a hand through Keith’s hair, clutching a handful of it between his fingers.  It tore him apart to have to treat him like a criminal – a monster.  Sometimes, he almost convinced himself that it was true, despite those murders being completely faked, because Keith’s life depended in it.

They needed to keep Sendak believing that Keith was loyal to the family – that he and Shiro were enemies.

Keith shifted his weight, turning them both over and forcing Shiro to take his place against the wall.  Between their heavy breaths and rapidly beating hearts, Shiro felt Keith fumbling to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, and god, did he want him to keep going…  “Keith, Keith, wait,” he sighed, voice muffled by their kiss.  Much to his own dismay, he pulled back and gently grasped Keith’s hand, touching his lips to the tips of his fingers before holding it against his chest.  “Not yet…  Not here.”

Disappointment struck across the man’s face, but he begrudgingly yielded, exhaling a deep sigh as he took a step back.  Planting his hands on his hips, he glanced up to meet Shiro in the eye, his look expectant.  “So… what am I doing here, Takashi?”

Allura was right; Shiro had been waiting a long time for this, and he could feel his chest expanding with the emphatic need to tell Keith the good news.  He took a step forward, closing the distance between them again, and reached up to cradle a hand against his cheek.  When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, like his next words were the most delicate things in the world, “You’re coming home, Keith.  We’re bringing you back in.”

Keith’s lips parted, his tears gathering in his wide eyes.  “Are… are you serious?” he choked out in a tight whisper.  When Shiro nodded, Keith pressed a hand against his forehead, huffing out an incredulous laugh.  “I… I don’t believe it. When?”

“Within the week.  We have enough evidence on Sendak to bring in him and keep him locked up for good,” Shiro explained.  With a proud smile, he added, “Thanks to you.”

“I can’t believe we… we did it,” Keith said through another laugh, wiping away the tears before they could fall.  “Takashi, we can finally be together again.”

Shiro gathered him up in his arms, pulling him close as he rested his chin atop his head.  “Yeah… after all this time.”  It was going to be the longest week of his life, but when it was finally over, he knew it would be worth the wait.  Keith was worth the wait.  He’d been undercover for three years, and he was finally coming home.  After a pause, Shiro said, “Hey, I… I’m sorry for being a bit rough back there.  Best to have Sendak think I’m on edge and desperate.  Make him believe that he’s winning, you know?  He’s gonna get his hands on that tape sooner or later.”

Keith flashed him a devious smile, turning up his head to nip at Shiro’s jawline.  “That’s okay.  I kinda liked it.”

“God, Keith,” Shiro breathed, shaking his head as he felt a flush of heat spread across his shoulders and up his neck.  “That’s so not fair.”

Keith chuckled as he took a few steps back.  “So, I have to convince Sendak for another week?”

Shiro eyed him curiously but nodded.

“And you want him to think you’re going off the rails?”

“…yes…?”

“Well, then,” he went on, spreading his arms out to the side.  “Guess I’m not leaving this room unscathed then, huh?”

Shit.  He hadn’t thought about that.  Sendak wasn’t going to be happy to know that Keith was brought into the station, and if he was going to believe that Shiro had acted out of desperation, really having no evidence against the man, other methods to try and draw out a confession would be expected.  He was thankful that Captain Arus and Commissioner Smythe were more or less aware of the whole situation – he’d have a lot more explaining to do if they weren’t.

With a sigh, Shiro rolled up his sleeves.  “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Keith said.  The same smirk that made Shiro fall in love with him in the first place pulled at the corner of his lips.  “Now give me your best shot, babe.”

[operation-firecobraclaw]

Used the dialogue generator and got "We could get arrested for this." What are they going to do? Lmao Sounds like something hilarious. Anyway, I hope you will have fun with this one!!! ♡♡♡ xoxoxo

Ahhh thank you so much for this one, anon!  I had a lot of fun with it.  I hope you enjoy fratboy!Shiro. :)  University AU where Lotor is Keith’s ex who cheated on him, and Shiro isn’t about to let that slide.

Shiro had chosen a rather auspicious night for this batshit crazy venture.  Final exams were only hours away, and if any student knew what was good for them, they’d either be in bed, catching those precious Zs, or sitting bleary-eyed at their desks, cramming in all of that last-minute study material.  Poor bastards.  Either way, the residents of Vrepit Sa – the richest frat house on campus – would be too preoccupied to notice one enemy frat brother and his hesitant cohort saran-wrapping their leader’s brand new Cadillac and teepeeing their grand front yard.

“Shiro, this is nuts,” Keith huffed as they crouched behind a hedge just outside of the frat house.  Slung over his shoulder was a knapsack filled with rolls of saran wrap.  He clutched anxiously at the strap.  “Nobody fucks with Vrepit Sa.  Nobody.  Not even you, Shirogane.  Besides, shouldn’t we be getting ready for finals?”

Shiro peeked over the top of the hedge, the shadows of leaves slipping back and forth across his face as a light wind rustled the tree overhead.  Keith glanced away when he realized he was staring…  Again.  Shiro waved his hand dismissively as he craned his neck for a better view of the upstairs window.  “You’re, like, the smartest guy I know,” he said in a hushed voice, flashing him a toothy grin.  “You’ll ace them, no problem.  Besides, this is more important.”

Keith hoped it was dark enough to conceal the blush that burned into his cheeks.  He shrugged his shoulder, adjusting the strap of the knapsack as he glanced around to see if anyone was coming.  Everything seemed dead still beside the slight jostle of foliage from the occasional breeze and the rushing of water from the nearby fountain.  It was almost 3 AM; Keith doubted anyone was going to be coming out of the house any time soon, but the two of them would be royally fucked if someone did.  Still crouched, he tugged on Shiro’s jeans.  “C’mon, Shiro, we could get arrested for this,” Keith muttered.  “There has to be cameras around here or something.”

“No way, Pidge disabled them this morning,” Shiro responded confidently as he lowered himself into a squat, nudging Keith with his elbow.  “If someone comes, just book it, okay?  I’ll take the hit.”

Keith blinked at him in disbelief, his brow in a deep furrow.  “What– no!”  He lowered his voice with a huff as Shiro brought his index finger to his lips. “C’mon, man, all this for a stupid frat war?  It’s not worth it.  You’re going to get expelled.”

A pause stretched between them, and Keith almost buckled under Shiro’s gaze.

“Keith, you think I’m doing this over a frat war?” the older boy asked, the surprise in his voice genuine.  He shook his head and laughed – that infuriatingly beautiful laugh.  “I’m doing this cause Lotor’s a dick who deserves it.”  His face softened as he clasped a warm hand on Keith’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He cheated on you.  I’m not gonna let him get away with it.”

Keith must have had the dumbest look on his face.  “I… why do you care so much about that?” he asked, his mouth feeling a little drier than usual.

The senior Paladin gave a cool shrug.  “You’re my friend.  And, well…”

Christ, was… was Takashi Shirogane blushing?

“… I’ve kind of had a thing for you the second you stepped foot on campus,” Shiro confessed as he cast his gaze downward, taking off his snapback and rifling a hand through his dark hair.  His smile turned sheepish then, a stark contrast from that dashing grin he always sported so easily.

Keith felt his defenses fly up around him, and he was shrinking away before he even realized it.  Shiro could never be this cruel… Could he? “Don’t fuck with me, Shirogane.  That’s not funny.”

“I’m not, Keith,” Shiro told him, sounding serious for what seemed like the first time tonight.  “Let me prove it to you?”

“…how?” The word was wrapped in a thick layer of skepticism.  There was no way…  Why the hell would Takashi Shirogane, head of Paladin house, like Keith?  Keith.  He was a nobody that came from nowhere.  He might have passed his entrance exams with commendable test scores, but his financial status made him an outcast at VU.  He didn’t belong here.  It was the reason why Lotor left him – it was why Shiro couldn’t possibly be telling him the truth now.

Keith’s eyes widened as Shiro grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him forward, the surprise yelp that rose from his chest muffled against the older boy’s mouth.  Frozen for only a moment – oh my god oh my god oh my god – he relaxed under Shiro’s warmth, letting himself feel their lips move together in surprising synchrony.  Damn it, Shiro was good at this.  Really… good at this.  Keith’s heart was racing a marathon in his chest, and when they finally parted, he could only imagine how red his face was.  To make things worse, Shiro cradled a hand against the side of his neck and pressed another soft kiss against his forehead, letting his lips linger before pulling away.

“I don’t know if that says much,” Shiro said, his voice and eyes unbearably soft.  “But I mean it.”

Keith had no words.  There were no words coming out of his slack-jawed mouth.  Jesus christ, say something, you absolute moron!  Instead, he could only nod, swallowing past the tightness in his throat.  

Shiro grinned at him, securing his hat onto his head but backwards this time – back to business.  “Well, Keith.  Care to join me tonight in the saran-wrapping of your dirtbag ex’s shiny new douche ride?”

Right now, Keith felt like he could do damn near anything.  He reached into the knapsack and pulled out two rolls, returning Shiro’s beaming grin.  “Let’s saran-wrap this bitch.”

[operation-firecobraclaw]

"But this is the only thing that's made the last three years bearable."

Firstly, I altered the quote just a tiny bit… I know that kinda defeats the purpose of quotes but such is life, baha.  Forgive me in advance for the cheesy Beauty and the Beast inspiration.  Hope you enjoy!

“Do you know what the most powerful motivator is, Champion?”

In the cramped space of his cold prison cell, Shiro said nothing.  Instead, he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall as he sat up in his cot.  On the other side of the door stood Choleer, an avid gambler who had deep connections within the Galra empire, peering through the small, barred window.  It was unsurprising to see him roaming freely around the holding cells; somewhere, a guard’s pockets were filled with bribe money.

“Not going to answer?” Choleer prodded.  “Alright, I’ll answer for you.  It’s hope, Champion.  Hope!  And you’ve proven that time and time again.  Your match today was quite the spectacle to behold, and it earned me a great deal of money, so I thank you.  Come, come, claim your prize.”

Shiro glared at the alien, his eyes shifting to the item he had clamped between his claws as he raised it into view.  It was a mirror – an ordinary, handheld mirror, modest in design without any features that suggested there was anything special about it.  In truth, it held more power over Shiro than one could ever imagine, and Choleer brandished it before him – taunting him.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” the alien said with false dejection.  “Wouldn’t you like to see him again?”

The ongoing arrangement he had with Choleer was far from dignified, and Shiro could feel the shame twisting sharply in his gut.  Still, the alien was right – he had something that would continue to weave hope through Shiro’s heart, something that kept him from throwing his life away in the arena each and every time.  He clenched his fists as he climbed out of bed, limping toward the cell door – his ankle had been injured during his last fight, and walking on it cause hot pains to shoot through his leg.  He gripped one of the metal bars to brace himself, his eyes glued to the mirror.

“Now, say the magic words, Champion.”

Shiro swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, ignoring the smug grin on the aliens face.  He could only manage a tight whisper when he spoke, “Show me Keith.”

The surface of the mirror began to glow a bright purple, his reflection disappearing and replaced with what looked like swirling black smoke.  A quiet hum sounded from the mirror, and when the smoke cleared, he could see Keith standing in the middle of his desert shack – it was like watching him through a television screen.  Shiro could feel his eyes burning with hot tears as he tightened his grip around the metal bar.  Every time he was able to see Keith like this, he didn’t think his heart could break anymore – and each time, it did.

Keith stood facing the wall where dozens of photos, graphs and notes were pinned to a corkboard, red thread connecting different events.  “I know you’re out there,” Keith whispered as he plucked a polaroid photo from the wall.  It was of him and Shiro on the day of the Kerberos launch.  Tears were visible in their eyes, but they were smiling.  “I’ll find you.  I… I don’t know how yet, but I will.  I promise.”

“Damn it,” Shiro breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against bars; they felt like ice against his skin.  “Damn it…”

“That boy sure is persistent,” Choleer commented as he slipped the mirror inside the pocket of his coat.  “But hey, win your next match, and maybe we’ll see what exactly he’s planning, eh?  And, uh, don’t forget to keep this under wraps, Champion.  I don’t need that witch comin’ after me for this.  She’d kill for this kinda magic tech.  See ya around.”

When Choleer’s footsteps faded into silence, Shiro collapsed to his knees, slamming the side of his fists against the cell door, shouting in anguish.  He was already being used by the empire, and now, he was letting himself be used by Choleer.  They were having him kill and slaughter for money and entertainment, and each life he took made him want to take his own.  But seeing Keith, even through some tiny mirror across the universe, and knowing he was still holding out hope that Shiro would return home – it was the only thing that made the last three years bearable.  It kept him alive.

And so Shiro would continue to fight, continue to kill, because he would return home one day.  Whether or not he’d be able to live with himself then…

He could only hope.

[operation-firecobraclaw]

Plance prompt! Matt thinks something is up between them and meddles.

@hailqiqi Sorry it’s so late!  Matt didn’t really meddle per se, but I hope you like it nonetheless. :)

“Hunk, is there anything going on between Lance and my sister?”

Hunk had been sitting at his computer in the Green Lion’s hangar, determined to prove to Pidge that double-modulating a gendocam was a total waste of time.  He had remained focused on his work, despite hearing the approaching footsteps but froze at Matt’s question, a nervous tension rippling through his muscles.  Oh, crap.  Hunk was bad at lying.  He was probably the worst liar in the entire known universe.  

“Uh, what-what do you mean?” he asked as he tried to casually swivel in his chair but felt an awkwardness settle into his bones instead.

Thankfully, Matt seemed oblivious to his pathetic attempt at feigning, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.  “I mean, they just seemed to be acting weird around me.  Like they’re hiding something.  I don’t know.  Have they said anything to you?”

Crap, crap, crap!  “Not, uh, anything that stands out to me,” he muttered, turning back to his computer so Matt couldn’t get a good look at his face.  He really wished those two would just tell him already… Hunk hated keeping secrets.

“Well, alright then,” Matt said with a shrug, though Hunk could tell that the uncertainty was still bothering him.  He glanced at the computer screen and raised an eyebrow.  “Shouldn’t you be double-modulating those?”

With a slump of his shoulders, Hunk breathed out an exasperated sigh.  “What is with you Holts and double-modulating?!”

Hunk was definitely carrying a guilty aura about him, which only helped reinforce Matt’s suspicions.  Of course, he couldn’t be be sure, and he didn’t want to go around assuming things.  But the way they fell quiet whenever he approached them or how they seemed to carefully glance his way as he was leaving a room – he couldn’t help but feel like something was going on.  And whenever there was some down time, Pidge and Lance always gravitated toward one another.

He poked his head into the Castle lounge, and sure enough, there sat Pidge and Lance with very little distance between them, their voices low as they spoke.  Lance laughed at something Pidge said before pressing his forehead against her shoulder, and Pidge leaned in, resting her cheek against the top of his head.

Okay, I am not going crazy!  

Before he could even register it, Pidge kissed him, and Matt smacked his hand over his eyes.  He stumbled into the room, waving his free arm wildly in the air.  “Okay, hold on.  Just one minute there!”  Pidge yelped, and when he heard the sound of frantic shuffling, he chanced a peek through the space between his fingers.  They stood beside each other, facing him now and looking thoroughly embarrassed.  He sighed in relief when he saw that the threat had passed – the threat being having to see his sister make out with Lance McClain.  No, thanks.  

“Matt!  I-I thought you were on an assignment!” Pidge stammered.

“I got back early.”  He folded his arms across his chest as he glanced from one to the other, contemplating.  He didn’t really mind, as long as Pidge was happy.  That didn’t mean he couldn’t mess with them.  “What’s going on?”

They exchanged a nervous glance before Pidge answered in a quiet mutter.  “We… we’re kind of together.”

He shifted his gaze over to Lance, who seemed to recoil from it, and as Matt took slow, deliberate steps toward them, Pidge straightened herself up.  Just like her.  When it came down to it, she wasn’t going to take any trash from anyone, not even him.  Face to face with her now, he let his solemn demeanor melt away and grinned at her, pulling her into an obnoxiously tight embrace.  “Aww, sis, when’s the wedding?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance’s face turn red and had to choke back a fit of laughter.  When he felt Pidge push against him, he released her, only to see that the color in her face had reddened as well.

“We’ve only been dating for a few months!” she cried but halted when she realized her mistake.  “I’m… sorry we didn’t tell you earlier.  I don’t know why I didn’t.  I guess I was just nervous.”

Matt chuckled, placing a hand on top of her head.  “Don’t sweat it, Pidge.  You don’t have to hide that kind of stuff from me.  If you find someone who makes you happy, then I’m happy.  Even if it is Mcclain.”  He laughed when Lance’s shoulders slumped.  “I’m only kidding, Lance.  Just… promise me you guys will give the room a quick scan before engaging in public displays of affection.  For my sake.”

Pidge gave him a hard shove but smiled at him.  “Get outta here, Matt.”

He lifted his hands in front of him in surrender as he turned to leave.  When he rounded the corner, he heard Lance’s voice carry into the hallway.

“I thought he was going to thrash me with his stick.”

“It’s a bo-staff, Lance.”

“Right, even worse.”

“Oh, my God.”

Matt smiled to himself as he headed toward the shuttle bay.  They were a good fit.

[operation-firecobraclaw]

Sheith drabbles open? :)

Hey guys!  Haven’t opened drabbles in awhile.  Thought I’d try something a little different than what I’ve done before.

RANDOM DIALOGUE GENERATOR

Send me an ask with a line of dialogue from the generator above, and I’ll write a sheithy drabble for it. :)  Hopefully it’ll help get the writing juices flowing for SheithMonth that’s coming up!  Please and thank you! <3

Note: I unfortunately might not get to all of them, so I apologize in advance if your request is not done. >.<

[operation-firecobraclaw]

I just saw your post in the Plance tag, and after seeing what a great writer you are I had to follow.

Ahhh, oh my gosh, you’re so sweet!  Thank you so much. :)  I had so much fun writing these two.  I hope you like it!

“Alright, Pidge!  Your savior from absolutely boredom has arrived!” Lance announced himself as he burst through the door of Pidge’s room, laptop under one arm and a thick binder under the other.  He spotted her sitting up in bed, and his eyes fell on her ankle, wrapped in a cast and elevated on two pillows.  He breathed out a dramatic sigh.  “Look at you.  Struck down in your prime.”

“Shut up, Lance,” Pidge muttered but through a small smile.  “What took you so long?”

“Uh, s’cuse you, I had to grab all of your homework first so you didn’t fall behind,” he told her as he dropped into the office chair next to her bed, setting the binder down on her lap.  Somehow, it was only then did he realize that Pidge wasn’t sporting her typical wardrobe that consisted of a T-shirt and skinny jeans.  Instead, she wore a fitting tank top and a pair of sleep shorts, and her hair – usually tied up or bundled inside of a beanie – fell in natural waves over her shoulders.

Apparently, Pidge was comfortable enough around him to invite him over while still in bedtime attire, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.  He tried not think about it too much.  It was weird enough being in love with her on a regular basis; he certainly didn’t need to make up signs where there weren’t any.

Besides, he was content with just being her friend.  

“Hey, thanks,” she said, flipping through a few pages of the binder before setting it aside.  “Anyway, are you ready to get your butt kicked?”

Lance barked out a laugh.  “We’ll see.”

He opened his laptop and booted up Voltron Fighters.  As he waited for the game to load, he pulled two controllers out of his backpack and hooked them up, handing the Player 1 controller to Pidge.  He glanced over at her, blinking as she scooted over to the far side of her bed and casually patted the spot next to her.

It was a full-sized bed, so there was definitely enough room, but it would still be fairly close quarters.  Pidge was well aware of that.  Lance didn’t have to sit right next to her, but she wanted him to.  In truth, she didn’t even have to invite him over; they could have played the game online like they normally did, but she’d made up some stupid lie that her computer was busted.  Since Pidge had broken her ankle, she’d been absent from school for a few days and wanted to see him.

Love was weird.

As Lance removed his jacket and took his seat beside her, she made herself look preoccupied, leaning back against the wall and tucking her foot underneath the knee of her elevated leg.  She kept her eyes on the screen when he crossed his legs together, accidentally bumping his knee against hers.  

They started the game, and as usual, she picked Green while he chose Blue.  They seemed to be evenly matched, stealing the lead back from one another every other round.

Lance hissed out a frustrated sigh.  “Oh, come on, I totally blocked that!”

“But ya didn’t!” Pidge responded through a laugh, furiously yet precisely entering in her finishing combo with each button press.  Her arms shot up into the air when she depleted his character’s life bar, and she cried out in victory, “Take that, McClain!  FEEL MY FURY!”

Though he still felt burned by the defeat, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her zeal.  “Alright, alright,” he conceded with a wave of his hand.  “You won this time, Holt.”

Pidge leaned back, clasping her hands behind her head.  “Ahhh, feels good to hear you say it.”  She caught a glimpse at the clock on her desk, disappointed at the time that it showed.  “Do you, um, have to get going soon?”

Lance glanced at his watch, weighing the cons of being scolded by his mother for missing dinner and the pros of spending the rest of his Friday night with Pidge.  It wasn’t much of a contest.  “Nah, I can stay.  I mean, if you want me to.”

“Yeah.  I’d like that.”  Pidge smiled up at him, and as they sat there for a moment, just looking at each other, she felt like she wanted to say something else.  Something important that would change everything between them.  But when she opened her mouth to speak, she realized that she wasn’t quite ready for things to change – or to face the consequences if things didn’t go her way.  So instead, she asked him, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure.  What do you want to watch?”

She folded her arms across her chest, giving him a pointed look.  “Anything but Die Hard.”

“Aw, come on!”

She laughed, and he laughed with her, and when the sound of it filled the room, she felt a warm ache inside of her chest.

God… love is weird.

Send me prompts!

[operation-firecobraclaw]

Shidge: with a theme of "Dance Lessons IN SPACE" idk go crazy with funky alien dance steps! Have fun!

Ahhhh I hope you like it!  I had lots of fun with this one!  I’m hoping it turned out alright, haha.

Warning: contains some S5 spoilers

Katie loved to dance, not that she would ever tell anyone.  The only reason Shiro knew was because he’d caught her practicing on the rooftop of the garrison, two days before the military ball.  She looked stunning under the moonlight, eyes closed as she took step after graceful step of what looked like a waltz.  Her arms were raised, poised around an invisible figure who led her skillfully through the dance, and Shiro had found himself wishing to fill that empty space.

He was an idiot for not asking her to the ball then, and he was an idiot for not telling her how he felt now.  

Between dealing with the Galra and forming the Coalition, Shiro hardly had any time to think, let alone ponder on what he might say to her.  But things had finally started to calm down – Matt was becoming a regular Castle resident, and Commander Holt was on his way back to Earth, safe and sound, more or less.  Katie seemed happy, happier than he’d ever seen her.

And with Allura planning the Coalition Ball, the timing seemed perfect.  If only Shiro knew how to dance.

“Alright, Shiro, the first step to being a great dancer is confidence!” Coran instructed.  With an arm behind his back, he erected his stance, twirling a hand in the air above his head.  He reminded Shiro of a matador.  Did aliens know how to do the paso doble?  “Now follow my lead, Black Paladin!  If you want to impress our dear Pidge, you’ll need to move those feet!”

Shiro felt his cheeks grow hot as he glanced around the training room, his eyes briefly moving to the gallery above.  To his relief, it was empty.  “Coran, can you keep your voice down?”

The Altean blinked before realizing the oversight, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape.  He dropped his voice down to a near-whisper.  “Sorry!  Now, watch my feet, and try to replicate!”

Shiro tried.  He really did.  But whatever Coran was doing was unlike any dance he’d ever seen before.  Good God, how was he moving his body like that?!  Shiro felt awkward and embarrassed, the heat spreading from his face down to his neck and shoulders.  He stopped, his chest heaving with a deep sigh.  “Ugh, forget it, Coran.  I can’t do this.”  At Coran’s disappointed expression, he gave an apologetic smile.  “Thanks for trying, though.”

With a nonchalant shrug, Coran headed for the door.  “Next time, then!”

Shiro was about to follow him out, but to his horror, Pidge’s voice sounded over the intercom, echoing against the walls of the training room.  “You know, you could have just asked me for some dance lessons.  I can teach you how to waltz.”  Shiro whipped around, his wide eyes shooting up to the gallery where Pidge stood, bracing herself against the console.  She flashed him a knowing grin when their eyes met.  “Are you going to ask me to the ball or what?”

He couldn’t help the laugh burst out of him, a warm relief settling inside of him.  He didn’t have to think too hard about what to say to her after all.  Like always, she was way ahead of him.  And by some miracle, she seemed to share his feelings, too.  His heart dancing inside of his chest, Shiro took a couple of steps in the gallery’s direction, spreading his arms out wide as he hollered, “Katie Holt, will you go to the ball with me?”

She folded her arms across her chest, her grin broadening.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

Send me prompts!