As far back as he could remember, he's been the epitome of Conquest. He obeyed the emperor's will and conquered other planets in his name, brought down civilizations in his name, and killed billions in his name. And what did it get him?

Fear.

One of the strongest Viltrumites, one of the oldest still around... and he is feared. By every lesser being in this universe and his own damn kind. It bothered him for the longest time, the stares, the whispers. Crazed, they said, unhinged. And all because he liked battle more than them...

One would think that among Viltrumites, the race whose philosophy has been survival of the fittest and might makes right for aeons, he'd be a legend. And he is. But not in the way he yearned to be.

Because deep, deep down, Conquest was fucking lonely. It didn't help matters that his own kind looked down on things like love and affection and care. Viltrumites didn't do love, not anymore. Their touches were hits, their compliments only about strength. They even mated like they fought, hard and rough.

And for the longest time, Conquest was resigned to the rest of his life being this way, that the only time he'd ever be close to someone would be when he's fighting and killing them. It's why he loved blood so much. It was the only warmth he'd known for millennia.

Until you.

On the day he was sent to earth to deal with Nolan's boy, Conquest decided to take a moment for himself, and that moment changed his fate.

He never did get that fight. But that was fine. He'd found a much worthier person to focus his attention on.

Blinking his one good eye, Conquest watched you move about the cozy home you two shared, a smile gracing his lips. Despite knowing he would be branded a traitor to the Viltrumite Empire, he couldn't care less. For the first time in forever, he was happy.

Watching you struggle to reach a high shelf, he got up, plucking you into his careful grip and lifting you.

"Easy there," he chuckles. "You know you can ask me for help, right?" He asks, squeezing you.