send â!!â and Iâll write a para description of your muse from mineâs perspective. || @spacestreetrat || selectively accepting.
Khan knows when he doesnât deserve something.
Heâs selfish to a point, thereâs no denying that. He believes that heâs owed the world that took him in and spit him out bruised, bloodied, and better. He believes this for his people. The Augment Prince finds the universe lacking in ways that do no benefit him-- but he knows that sacrifice and sin are kin and kine. Blood stains the tips of his fingers, down to the bone. Where regret lies neglected, he still pockets the key.Â
He doesnât deserve Xana.
For every bit of tooth and nail, sheâs still fragile in her own way, still pure. Sheâs been scorned by the galaxy, but sheâs still whole. In his eyes, in his mind, she should be conquering worlds instead of listening to the stories he recites of dead kings and the philosophies of outdated societies. He wonders if heâs holding her back. Thoughts that haunt him like gloom and ghost in the stillness of night, reminding him that heâs already slept far too long, that will never leave the prison of his lips. Heâll cut out his own tongue first.Â
Even then, pride swells like the tide as she learns and imitates his habits without realizing. She pilots like him, she kills like him, she leads like him, and sheâs better than her chains-- just like him. Adulthood is fast approaching and heâs just about taught her everything he knows (not even close) and he wonders if sheâll stay or if sheâll leave her mark across the galaxy and start a legacy of her own. Khan wonders more and more as time goes on, as both of their scars heal. But there is one certainty, one constant that the universe cannot steal from him:
