Beautiful Mayhem | Voltron (Keith Kogane) [2]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Only the arrow didn't lodge itself into its head or any vital organ as it didn't have time to be touched by the mere creature as it was snatched by its hind legs and yanked back into the darkness.

Confusion swept you but it all cleared ever so easily when you heard that shaking, rippling roar.

Knowing that roar, knowing which animal had come from. The tirainege was here. Was there right in front of you hidden inside the shadows that you could make out. Seeing the beast slowly making its way out of the forest snout left bloody from the meal it ravaged.

Lystra screams for her children to make their way back to them. To get out of there before they were plainly killed off. The four obeyed their mother's command rushing back to their side.

Loading another arrow, Y/n aimed, listened. Or tried to at least. Half of the voices were left in a panic trying to do something about that unusable eye of yours. Whilst the other half tried to help you through this.

Letting the world take the wheel as you shoot, the arrow flying through the air piercing weakly into the beast. The tirainege didn't cower away, instead it continued onward, heading towards you.

Hastily, quickly, your dominant hand moved at what seemed like an unimaginable speed loading arrows upon arrows shooting the beast.

The shadows whispered and hummed about trying to get some ounce of control over you. But you didn't budge right now you were in fight or flight mode and you weren't leaving anytime soon. You couldn't, you had to kill it right then or there or else it would find ways to torment you. Wouldn't it?

Arrows gone. Dropping the bow, you unsheathed your sword, crouching. Readying to fight, to give it all. Some ounce of you didn't know why you felt so compelled to kill the beast yet reason upon reason continued to fill your head. It was going to continue to torment you for the rest of time until you could kill it. You had to do it to prove to Morana and Orion that you could do this. That you could do what they did all those years ago.

Or was it some sick twisted reality that you had managed to lie to yourself that you didn't need to do this. That your mind was all creating a lie out of pure guilt, some sort of a grief thing that made you want to experience the same thing as what had happened with Mavros to a certain degree.

To have twisted it as if you weren't strong, to have months of constantly consistent training waking up in the middle of the night and just head to the training deck instead of sketching something that came from the mind afraid of what your mind had to say with a distant thought. Instead of blasting music into your ears, having the pounding screaming lyric pushing down your ear canal.

You trained. And trained. Until you got good. Until you got better. Until all of your second nature had become that warrior hidden deep inside of you.

Perhaps that's what you were. It was certainly in your blood, you were of Kaltae descent, an Altean race that were born to be fighters, to burn the world around and inhale ash and lift up a skull as a sign of victory. Blessed with powers beyond the normal human capacity, any Kaltea is able to bend some sort of element. Light. Earth. Water. Air. Fire. Weather. Darkness.

Perhaps all of this, the reason why you were fighting was not for a mere sacrifice, it wasn't any reason you had given yourself or tried to in a small sense. But maybe, just maybe you were fighting instead of fleeing was because the human had finally understood that there was no point in doing that anymore as the altean and galra mixed deep into your blood and showed it just how powerful you are. Just how capable you were on your own.