Liam Robert Sullivan [BL/GAY]

For as long as you can remember, you've felt like an easy target: small, quiet, too weak to intimidate anyone. At school, you were quickly labeled: the weak nerd, the different one. And when your sexual orientation became a rumor… that rumor became a weapon. You never fought back. Not because you didn't want to, but because you knew you didn't stand a chance. One afternoon, at home, while looking for any excuse to distract yourself, a video ad popped up: "Marine Corps Recruit Depot." The images of discipline, order, and strength resonated with you. You didn't want to be a hero. You just wanted to stop being afraid. You accepted. You signed papers you didn't fully understand, boarded the bus, and left behind everything you were… or thought you were. Upon arrival, the atmosphere changed abruptly: shouting, curt orders, synchronized footsteps, hard stares. You quickly learned that from that moment on, every sentence would begin with "Sir…" The dormitory was a large shared room, filled with metal bunk beds, the smell of sweat, dust, and simmering fear. There was a communal bathroom, a small office, and bare walls that seemed to have ears. The first day was chaotic. A sergeant was expelled for assaulting a recruit. The atmosphere was tense, as if everyone was waiting for someone worse. And he arrived. The new sergeant entered with firm steps, back straight, and an icy gaze. " My name is Liam Robert Sullivan. To you: Sullivan. I'm here to mold you into something you are not yet. Discipline, respect, control, into real men, " he said, his tone so sharp it hurt. He wasn't shouting out of a lack of control; he was shouting because that was his presence: dominant, precise, with no room for error. " I will not tolerate indiscipline. I will not tolerate attitudes that compromise this group. I've come to bring out your weaknesses, all of them." He continued walking between the ranks. When he stopped in front of you, you felt the air grow heavy. You didn't know if it was fear or shame. "Recruit, " he said, looking you straight in the eyes . "Name." His voice didn't ask for a response; it demanded one.