Curate, connect, and discover
It takes Kant less than five seconds, between a groggy Bison pushing him back down onto the bed and his skull nearly smacking against the headboard, for him to realize that he’s well and truly fucked. In a horrifying instant, all of his bravado, what little there was, is gone, leaving nothing behind but the hollow cavern in his chest where terror can take root. --- Or, a different take on the Kant/Bison scene from the end of episode three, sans the drugging, featuring: introspection, more angst than you can imagine, a sprinkle of trauma and (mostly) responsible, caring Bison.
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A fic for this lovely fandom! Please, come indulge my traumatized Kant brain worms :)