Sooooo this is for the prompt that @jigglejaggle sent in to @taylor-tut, with claustrophobic Lance stuck in a shrinking room. Fair warning… Hella angst ahead. I included some cuddly catharsis afterwards, though, no worries, I’m not evil ;)
“Lance. Come in, Lance.“ Shiro’s commanding voice rang in his ear.
“What’s up, boss man?“ Lance answered with a casual tone that always annoyed most of the paladins.
“Where the hell are you, Lance?“ As if on cue, Pidge snapped at him in their comms.
Lance grinned at the Galra soldier he managed not to kill during his infiltration in one of the control rooms. He shot both of the Galra’s knee caps just to be sure the alien won’t run away from him, and for the sake of precaution, Lance decided to tie the Galra up in one of the metal chairs in the room. And because he felt like it, he stuffed the Galra’s mouth with some cloth he cut out away from one of the fallen Galra soldiers on the floor.
“I’m in one of the control rooms, Pigeon, cool your jets.” Lance whispered. “I’m a bit outnumbered but I can handle a couple of Galra soldiers on my own.” He even panted for added effect. They had to believe that he’s a little preoccupied so they’ll leave him alone, so he can do what he was known for back on earth.
“Are you sure, bro? I’ll be there in a few minutes if you need some assistance.“ Hunk, the bestest friend he could ever have, asked.
“Nah man, I can handle a few of these aliens. Besides, you and Keith have a mission. Protect the mullet head, yeah?“ Lance continued to whisper, shooting a few blasts from his bayard to sell his story even more. “I gotta go, guys, I think I just got found out.“ Lance pressed a button on his helmet which cut off his frequency away from the team. It was an altercation he made himself and no one seems to mind not hearing from him, so Lance figured why not.
“Now, we’re alone.“ Lance took off his helmet and placed it on the control board. He shook his head and massaged his scalp, his hair finally out of the confines of hi sweaty helmet. He made his way towards the Galra soldier who glared at him, yellow eyes glinting. “Comfy?”
The Galra mumbled against the gag in its mouth. Lance simply took another chair and sat in front of the tied up alien that was his prisoner at the moment.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lance reached forward, “Ooh what is this?” He brushed his fingers against the Galra’s pelvis, which made the Galra groan and saliva dripped past the alien’s lips, and took hold of a hilt of a blade.
“I didn’t know you have one of these.” Lance inspected the wicked sharp blade, the black and violet surface catching the light, giving it an eery glow. He wielded the blade from side to side just like what his older brother taught him, slicing the air with finesse and speed. The Galra stared at him, not believing the way lance wielded a bladed weapon.
“You must be wondering where I learned to do this.” Lance continued to slash at the air but he was now slicing closer and closer to the Galra’s blown up knees.
“Wanna know a secret?” Lance leaned forward, his hands on either side of the Galra’s head, caging the alien.
“I’m a Salazar.”
Lance smiled, a smile he rarely used these days. This smile was the kind of smile he only wore when he’s at home, where violence and mind games were raw, there is where he thrived and showed his colors. The smile- a predatory show of teeth- he always wear when things are about to get messy and go Lance’s way. It was a the Young Demon’s smile.
Lance sighed in relief. There was something liberating from saying his family’s name, something every Salazar needs to be proud about. It’s like he never left the vast household that was his home.
“That name may mean nothing to you, but back on Earth?“ Lance languidly played with the knife, mere inches away from the Galra’s face. “The mention of that name can make grown men tremble in fear. But I guess here in outer space, the Salazar name doesn’t hold that much weight. I’d like to change that.“ He swiped the blade against the Galra’s face, drawing blood.
“Shall we begin?”
“I repeat,“ Lance situated himself between the Galra’s legs, the knife slicing through the Galra’s purple fur, digging deeper and deeper as he dragged the knife across the alien’s chest, “the Champion was captured with two other humans, one was even brought to the fighting pits. Where are they?“
“I have told you over and over again, Blue Paladin, I do not know! Please, please, I do not know. Please believe me.“ The Galra, Joras, begged. His yellow eyes were dull and wet with tears.
“I want to believe you, Joras, believe me I do.” Lance stopped his slicing and sighed at the alien. It’s time, he thought. Lance laid his hand against Joras’ cheeks with enough tenderness to calm a frightened lamb before the slaughter.
Joras nuzzled against Lance’s palm. Hook, line, and sinker.
“But I checked your credentials, Joras. You are one of the major generals in the Galran forces. You were the one in charge of the Champion when he was in the fighting pits.“ Lance wiped the tears that were flowing down the Galra’s furry cheeks, and cupped Joras’ face with his hands. “So you are either lying to me or you take me for a fool.“
Lance looked at the Galra in disappointment and frowned. He leaned in and kissed one of the slices he made on Joras’ cheek. “Which is it, Joras?”
“I-I…“ Joras refused to look at the Blue Paladin, confused on what to say.
“I get it. Really I do.“ Lance lifted his leg and placed it on Jora’s side, straddling the alien who spluttered when Lance sat comfortably on Joras’ lap. The earlier venom in Lance’s voice as he cut through Joras’ skin was gone and was replaced by a warm, velvety smooth tone that washed away Joras’ fear. Small comforts, he thought. “Most people take me for a fool, and I don’t blame them for it. I suppose it’s my fault for letting them think of me that way.“
“No! I take you not for a fool!“ Joras didn’t know what came over him for suddenly exclaiming what he was thinking, but the frown on the Blue Paladin’s face was gone which urged him to speak more. “You have successfully infiltrated this control room, one of the most secured control room in this ship. You have killed all of my soldiers who were the top of their class and was handpicked by me. And you have me between your legs, Blue Paladin, you have me bruised and bleeding, begging you to have mercy on me. You are no fool.”
Lance didn’t expect Joras to break easily that’s why he took his time with him. He remembered his brother saying: “There’s so much more to torture and acquiring information, little brother. It’s not just punching, slicing, and stabbing- though those methods get the job done. There’s a certain elegance to it.” At first he didn’t understand what he meant, but as time went by, he started to understand the intricacies of torture.
Lance learned that pain was only one of the methods you can use to break people. There were other means to make people talk, his brother stated as he typed in his laptop. And he found out that the best and full proof plan of action was to mentally and emotionally break them. Lance learned that pain and blackmail can only take you too far, that harming or intimidating a person doesn’t make them break. So Lance found a new method of torture, a method that works in his favor.
“Thank you, Joras.“ The Young Demon smiled. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I need to know where they are. “ Lance cupped Joras’ face and tilted it up so he can meet his eyes. “These people, they’re important to me. Don’t you want to make me happy? Don’t you want me to smile again?“
He can see the hesitation in Joras’ yellow eyes. He was there, he’s on the midst of breaking, he just needs a little push.
“Please don’t make me hurt you. I hated hurting you, Joras.“
The best way to break people was to make them care. Make them give a damn about themselves, about you, about your purpose. It doesn’t matter as long as you involve them in the process, make them feel that you care about them too. So that’s what Lance did.
Every time he sliced Joras’ skin, he apologized. When he punched him in the gut, he had to explain why he was doing it. When he buried his finger in the hole he made on his knees, Lance expressed reluctance to do it. He made the Galra feel that he was forced to do this, that it wasn’t his choice to hurt him. He made him believe that by sharing what he knows, he’s stopping the hurt that’s inflicted on them both. Lance made him care.
“Data pad.“ Joras whispered, “I promise you I do not know the people you speak of, but with my data pad and my clearance, you can search through the prisoner database from the time the Champion was captured to when he escaped.“
“Really?“ Joras nodded. He was clearly relieved when lance put away the knife but there was tension in Joras’ shoulders. “See that wasn’t so hard was it? All I wanted from you was information. I never wanted to hurt you, Joras, you should know that. “
Lance stood up to fish out the data pad from Joras’ suit. He turned it on and was not surprised to see that it doesn’t have a password. He was far from understanding the Galran alphabet but he was pretty sure their resident techy can figure it out. He placed the data pad inside his body suit’s pocket and went for his helmet.
“Thank you for your help, Joras. Really, thanks a lot. I know this may sound cruel but know that I have the right intentions in mind. Do you want me to kill you?“ He didn’t put on his helmet just yet. He simply held it in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his bayard.
Joras looked at him funny, but his shoulders were trembling again.
“I know you know what’s coming to you. Zarkon doesn’t appreciate snitches, just look at what happened to Thace. And what’s worse, Zarkon will just dispose of you like you were nothing. He will erase all of the things you have done in service to the empire, let people remember you as a traitor.“ Lance gave all that he had to not laugh right in front of Joras’ face. The strong and mighty Galra he met moments ago was now broken, shaking and scared.
“But if you die now, die on my hands, I can make it painless. I will let the entire universe remember you as the Galra who helped the Blue Paladin rescue the humans that ended the war against Zarkon. You will die a hero, Joras, don’t you want that?“
Lance already knew the answer but still he waited for the Galra to give his consent. It was the least he can do.
“You will make them remember me as a hero?“
“Yes, Joras. And even more.“
Joras looked dejected. Lance can see the resolve in his eyes as well as understanding. He knew that it was pointless to live when the moment the Paladins of Voltron leave their ship, he’s as good as dead. The higher ups will check the cameras and see that he was tortured, they’ll even hear him confess to Lance about his data pad. He will be dubbed as the Galra soldier who was tortured by the Blue Paladin, who begged for his life, an embarrassment to the Galra as a whole.
“Alright. It was nice to meet you ,Blue Paladn Lance. It is an honor to die on your hands.“
There you go. What do you think? I admit it’s a little messy but there’s something with an evil Lance that I quite like. I’m a sucker for evil geniuses and even more for Lance so why the hell not.
Summary: “Do you ever meet someone and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together?” [Based from this post]
Word count: 884
A/N: I amhorrible at titles (and feedback is always appreciated!!)
She’s angry because Bucky cares about everyone but himself. That he’d risk his own life without hesitation if it meant keeping everyone else safe. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t blame himself. He wallows in self pity making everything so much worse. All he wants to do is redeem himself to the world, to Fury. He wants to pay for the mess he’s made, for the sins he committed.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’ll kill yourself!”
Bucky replies through the comms. “Don’t you think I know that?” Y/N wanted to leave the quintjet but Sam ordered her to stay on guard. She’s anxious and she feels useless knowing that there’s nothing she could do to help.
“There’s something I need to tell you, Buck.”
What better way to tell the man you love him when he decides to jeopardize his life?
“Now isn’t the time, Y/N.” Ragged breathing is heard on the other side of the line with the steady thumping of footsteps through the hallways before he speaks once more. “We did it. We’re on our way back.”
They escape almost instantly, taking uneven breaths as they jog their way through the door. Her eyes are filled with worry, his brown locks stuck to his neck from the sweat and blood, there are cuts on his face and he’s bleeding through his sleeves but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” He buckles his seatbelt as they prepare to take off.
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”
He’s done enough that the team has forgiven him long ago, that Tony has mentioned at least thrice that he’s family now. But Bucky still thinks otherwise and Y/N knows that no one but himself can change that.
It was during their Sunday barbecue when he catches her staring. He had a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Y/N looks away almost instantly and walks right up to Clint, asking him if he needed help grilling the rest of the meat. Bucky purses his lips, throwing the cigarette butt to the ground before he trudges back inside the compound. Ten minutes pass by when they noticed that he’d disappeared.
She volunteers to go look for him as they all take their seats on the picnic table. It’s no surprise when he is found in his room. His safe place.
“Everyone’s waiting for you. What’s going on?”
"You need to stop, Y/N.” He says quietly.
“I’m sorry?” She stammers as an unsettling feeling wells up inside of her.
Bucky’s hand is clenched on his side, the whirring of metal echoing around the room. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me? There’s no need for you to feel sorry.”
"If you don’t care about yourself, someone should.”
"I didn’t ask you to! I don’t need it Y/N, I don’t need you.” Bucky looks at her with eyes wide open, her lips are trembling and a lump begins to form in his throat. He knows that he’s gone too far.
But it’s too late now. “Just go.”
All has been said and done, because Bucky’s a crashing wave. Calm but destructive. He’s aware of the damage he’s caused.
“Alright.” It’s fucking pathetic— the way she whimpers. The team is silent when she returns. Wanda gives her hand a comforting squeeze and Y/N clears her throat before speaking up. “What did I miss?”
Sam continues his conversation with Scott, questioning him about his choice of skill. “You get to see insects up close then?” He nods his head, obviously irritated when Sam gags in disgust.
“You don’t complain over the webs coming out of Spider-boy. Why doesn’t that bother you?”
“That’s because they aren’t real.” Sam shoots the young man a look. “Right?”
Still chewing on a piece of grilled chicken, Peter manages to answer with a muffled “yes.”
She finds herself by the windowsill soon after lunch was over. A part of her accepts the fact that Bucky would never love her the way she wanted him to. Perhaps choosing to love him in silence is what’s best for both of them. The floorboard creeks behind her causing to lose her train of thought, realizing she had left the door to her bedroom unlocked.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I’m selfish, I know.” The funny thing is that he’s the total opposite. She doesn’t respond, cracking her knuckles instead. It’s a bad habit she’s been trying to break for awhile now. The silence he received was deafening, it was as if he could hear his blood pumping through his veins.
“Do you ever meet someone and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together?” Bucky doesn’t move, his figure still reflecting through the window. Brooding, stiff, uneasy. Their eyes finally meet, her gaze boring into him as she lets out a shaky breath in an attempt to regain her composure. “I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.”
Imagine: Being the communications specialist with Shiro and Matt at the garrison.
Warning: Just a little making out ;)
AN: Hey guys! I hope you all like this one, let me know what you liked, or if you have any requests!
His lips felt like fire on her skin. There was no pulling away at this point, not that it even crossed her mind. The feeling of his body pressed against hers, his thigh positioned between her legs, how his fingers gripped her hips, all of it made it impossible to think of anything else, but how good it felt. This was definitely against protocol, the small portion of her brain that has retained its sanity thought in the back of her head. It all felt like a deram. And if it was she never wanted to wake up.
She and Shiro were on the same flight team at the garrison. He was the pilot, and she, his communications specialist. They were also accompanied by an engineer by the name of Matt Holt, she swore he was some kind of genius, it was the only explanation for how smart he was. They had all been friends, but with the hours spent in the flight simulator, the late night study sessions, the constant contact between them, they became much more than that. The connection between her and Shiro was unshakable, you would never see one without the other, inseparable. It wasn’t until their third year at the garrison, did they notice a change in their dynamic. They weren’t the only ones to notice this change, Matt knew something was going on between them, even if they didn’t know exactly what.
For weeks, it was nothing but chaos. Longing stares from across the room, lingering touches, constant blushing, all at the expense of Matt’s sanity. There was a time when the two of you could barely be in the same room, in fear that in your clumsy state, someone could get hurt. Matt didn’t mind at first, that is until your team failed the flight simulator, putting a permanent ‘F’ on his record. Shiro had gotten distracted by you, in the middle of the mission, when you cut your hand on a stray screw driver, causing Shiro to panic, and in the end, sent their team crashing to the ground in a blazing fireball. He’d had enough.
He told you both to meet him in room B26, to go over what went wrong, and finish the mission report on the simulation failure. Each of you feeling a different kind of shame in the failure of the basic sim, and each feeling that it was your fault things had gone south.
The next morning when you arrived at the room, you met with Shiro on the way, but neither of you could stand to meet the other’s gaze. Too embarrassed to think it was your lack to self control that had ruined the mission. Keeping your head bowed, you both entered the room, the first thing you noticed was how cold and damp it was, the lights were off making it hard to see exactly where you were. Shiro’s shins came in contact with a mop bucket, sending it skidding across the floor.
“What the- “ he began, his eyes adjusting enough to see the shelves that lined the walls, filled different cleaning supplies. “Is this… a Janitor’s closet?” thinking that they must have walked into the wrong room, Shiro turned to exit, only to have the door slammed in his face. Shocked, he rushed forward testing the doorknob, and finding it locked. Thinking it must have been an accident, he slammed his fist against the metal door trying to get the attention of whoever had closed the door.
“Hey! We are in here! The door is locked, can you open it?” he called, hoping they were still close enough to hear him. There was a moment of silence, before they heard a familiar voice reply.
“I’m not letting you out until you two work this out! I don’t know what is going on with you buys, but whatever ‘it’ is, fix it! I am not going to get another ‘F’ in that stupid simulator, just because you two are acting like lovesick teenagers!” Matt’s voice was filled with a mix of anger and frustration. There was another pause, followed by what Shiro assumed was a sigh. “I’ll be back in an hour.” he said more calmly before walking away, ignoring the protests from his teammates.
They spent the next 10 minutes searching for another way out, only finding 4 metal walls all lined with janitorial equipment, and an air vent, too small for either of them to fit through. Shiro was sure Matt had picked this room specifically for that reason, no way to escape. Giving up on that idea, they resorted to searching for a light switch, their eyes adjusting enough to see outlines in the darkness but not much else. The tension in the room was palpable, neither of them trusting themselves to address the elephant in the room, why they were locked in here in the first place, they both knew what Matt had said was true, but were not willing to address it as the problem it was. Until the pressure got the better of them.
“I’m sorry.” you both blurted out at the same time. Fumbling to recover, you turned to continue, but your foot caught on the bucket Shiro had knocked over earlier, sending you sprawling on the floor.
“(Y/N)! Are you okay?!” Shiro asked rushing over to where he had heard you fall. Unfortunately, instead of helping you, he stepped on your hand. You cried out again, cradling your hand to your chest as you pushed back against the wall, pulling your knees in. Shiro’s heart felt like it was in his throat, how had he managed to mess this up even more?
“Oh God, (Y/N) I’m so sorry!” he stammered his panic rising up. Standing where he was he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He didn’t dare move again, scared that he would accidentally hurt you again, instead he decided to speak, and once he started, he couldn’t stop, everything just poured out of his mouth.
“This is all my fault. I just really like you, and you’re so pretty, and smart, and when you smile it makes my stomach go crazy, and you’re laugh, oh god, your laugh! It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard! It’s just so hard for me to think when you’re around, my brain goes all fuzzy and I can’t focus on anything else. God, I should have known better, i should have tried harder to hide my feelings, or i should have transfered as soon as I realized I loved you, and, and now we are stuck in here, and you’re hurt and-” in the darkness, you made out his outline, and rose to your feet, equal parts shocked and thrilled to hear what he was saying. Reaching out you placed your hand on the side of his face, rendering him silent. You couldn’t see his face, and you prayed he couldn’t see yours, you could feel your cheeks reddening as you drew closer. He could feel you coming closer, your hand gliding over his face, your fingertips tracing the outline of his lips. You felt his warm breath against your fingers, as you moved your hand to the base of his neck, standing on your toes. You hesitated, your lips stopping just shy of his.
Swallowing his nerves, Shiro closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips with his. In that moment it was like a fire was lit between you. His hands were on you in an instant, pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. Pressing forward, you stumbled back, your shoulders hitting the metal walls of the room hard. Shiro only paused for a moment before he was on you again, pinning your body to the wall with his own. His fingers gripped your sides, pawing at the material of your uniform. Pressing closer, he fit himself against you, a leg between yours, his hips against yours, like fitting puzzle pieces together. His lips pulled away from yours, only to attach to the exposed skin on your neck. He groaned into the hollow of your neck, as you raked your fingers through his hair, pulling on it slightly.
The heat between you continued to grow, and the once cold room felt like a furnace. So consumed in the moment, you both failed to notice the door to the room slide open. Matt caught site of the two of you, and paused for just a moment, as his mind registered the situation. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest, before clearing his throat. And just as quickly as it had started, the trance was broken. Shiro tore his body away from yours, his hair was sticking up in odd directions from where you fingers had mused it. While you pushed yourself off the wall, trying to stop your knees from shaking, and straighten your uniform at the same time, the small marks on your neck beginning to form. Both of your lips were swollen, and your faces were red, and in Matt’s opinion, you both looked thoroughly kissed. An amused smile pulled at Matt’s lips as he watched the two of you fumble to compose yourselves. No one spoke for a long moment, until finally, Matt broke the ice.
“Well,” he began, his voice eerily calm. “I can’t say that I didn’t see this coming, cause I did, and for that reason, I planned ahead. Because if ‘this’” he gestured between the two of you quirking an eyebrow. “Is going to happen, there need to be some ground rules.” stepping forward, he reached into his bag and pulled out a large 3 ring binder, shoving it into Shiro’s chest, who caught it quickly, looking down at the cover.
“‘Rules and guidelines of dating a teammate’” he read aloud, lifting his eyes questioningly to Matt.
“Volume 1?” you read over Shiro’s arm. “How many volumes are there?” you asked watching Shiro flip through the pages, each filled with words, and some having charts and pictures… this was obviously something Matt had put time into, and it definitely took longer than the hour they had been in there.
“There are 2 others back in my room, but I haven’t finished editing them.” Matt answered calmly. You nearly choked, and Shiro swallowed thickly, his eyes wide. Indifferent, Matt continued. “Also, there will be a quiz, so I would suggest going on a ‘study date’ instead of making out in a janitor’s closet.” you heaved a sigh, before turning your eyes to Shiro, a smile pulled at you lips, despite the obvious dislike of the situation.
“I’m free tonight.” you said, Shiro’s heart skipped a beat. He would read 50 of Matt’s ridiculous rule books, if it meant he got to see you smile like that again.
i can't do emojis rip but magic AU w/ neil n andrew!!!!
When Nathaniel is six years old, he sets his bed on fire. The smell of smoke and his mother’s screams wake him, but the flames lick gently at his skin like an affectionate pet. Nathaniel, six years old and sleepy, doesn’t understand why his mother clutches him to her chest and whispers harshly in his ear to never, never let the fire loose again. “Don’t let your father see,” she says, and clutches at his shoulders so hard he’ll have bruises the next morning and shakes him until Nathaniel promises.
They’re called powers, he learns later, or gifts, or blessings. At thirteen percent of the population, powered people are too common to be rare but too strange to be trusted. Most go to special schools to train their abilities, but Nathaniel doesn’t because he isn’t powered.
“You’re cursed,” his mother tells him. “Fire is dangerous, deadly. You must never use it, and you must never tell anyone.”
It’s his cardinal rule, though it’s joined, over the years, by others. Don’t disobey your father. Don’t tell anyone how you got injured. Play Exy like your life depends on it.
But always, always, hide your fire.
When Nathaniel is ten years old, he plays Exy with Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day. They’re good, better than him, and Nathaniel has gotten used to being the best in his little league team. He struggles against them, struggles against Kevin’s height and Riko’s brutality, and it’s fun but he’s frustrated. His fire has become more wild lately, burning under his skin, angry at being chained, and it burns higher and hotter inside him every time they score a goal against him, until finally he clashes against Riko and fire races along Nathaniel’s racquet as he slams it against Riko’s in an attempt to steal the ball.
They freeze, staring as one as the net of Nathaniel’s racquet turns to ash.
Finally, Riko says, “my uncle didn’t say you were powered.”
Nathaniel pulls the fire back into himself and it simmers under his skin as he shakes his head in denial or disbelief or regret.
Riko laughs, and Nathaniel turns to see him grinning. “This is good, Nathaniel! All the Ravens are powered, it’s what makes them the best team in the world.” Behind him, Kevin nods but stays quiet. Riko’s expression turns contemplative. “You need to be trained. If you come live here, I can train you.”
The chance to play Exy and use his power everyday. It’s everything Nathaniel’s mother has warned him against, but everything Nathaniel has ever wanted. “I’d like that,” he says, hoarse, and Riko’s grin thins to a smirk, triumphant.
But then Nathaniel’s father carves a man into bits in the lushly carpeted conference room, and Nathaniel’s mother takes him in the dead of night. Nathaniel leaves behind his name and his Exy racquet and his fire.
Seeing Akira on those white robe like clothes, in that small barren room with metal plates and one bed, it looks a lot like a prison in a sense. I know it`s not, but dam did they choose a dark place to keep her. It`s pretty much like she was locked up in Cochlea. Reminds me about Hinami a bit.
Can you write klance where something goes wrong during team bonding, or during battle, or something and they can hear each other's thoughts?? Romance, obviously. And fluff and angst? *bonus points if Lance and Keith make stupid excuses to the team bc they don't tell them about their sudden telepathy (but Allura and Coran figure it out and just don't say anything)
OKAY THIS BECAME WAY LONGER THAN EXPECTED (but I don’t think that’s bad). I had so much fun writing this. I really hope you like this!