This prompt from @/creativepromptsforwriting inspired this fic, go check their stuff out for various prompts! They do so much good work for those with writer/artist block.
The intel wasn't accurate. It's not like you haven't been on missions that went awry, but this is the first time it's resulted in this bad of a mission. You're trapped in a room with some cover, and you can hear the horde of Corrupted hissing from behind the door. Chrome has barricaded said door with whatever heavy objects he can find and is gripping onto his scythe tightly, blue eyes narrowed.
Vital fluid drips from the various wounds he has sustained so far, occasionally seeping into his eyes. He wipes it away with his sleeve, looking at you with concern.
"How are you holding up?" He asks softly.
"You're the one that looks like a corpse." You huff back, ignoring the sticky feeling on your hand when you wipe your forehead with it.
"You look like a corpse too." He frowns, glancing at the door worriedly when a particularly loud bang echoes in the room. "We don't have much time until they break through the door. I can buy you enough time to escape through the ventilation but —"
"No! I'm not leaving you behind! I don't want to watch yet another person sacrifice themselves for me!" You grip your pistol tightly. You know that escaping by yourself is the best possible solution, because you can at least bring information back to Babylonia and complete the mission, even at the cost of your entire squad, but your heart refuses to let you do so. You've grown attached to the members of Strike Hawk despite entering with the intention of not doing so, and you don't want to lose anyone anymore. Your heart can't take it.
"Commandant." Chrome's voice is firm. "This is the only way to complete the mission. If one of us manages to contact Babylonia, it will help humanity's fight against the Punishing virus. That is worth far more than three Constructs."
"You don't know if Wanshi and Kamui are dead! They could still be alive!" You snap, feeling the tears start to well up.
"We don't know, but I am assuming the worst case scenario. You can't let your emotions dictate your actions now, Babylonia needs you and that information."
"I need you too." You choke out, your vision starting to blur. Chrome smiles softly, reaching over with a vital fluid stained hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, leaving behind a streak of blue.
"I —"
The door rattles before crashing to the ground, letting the Corrupted spill in.
"Go!" Chrome throws you into the ventilation system without missing a beat and turns to face the Corrupted. His scythe cleaves through five of them, but ten quickly take their place and block him from your view. Clenching your fists, you make your way through the ventilation system, forcing down the tears as your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. You try to block out the sound of vital fluids gushing from fresh wounds, focusing on your own breathing, and chant under your breath that if you contact Babylonia fast enough, you can save them all. Still, you can't shake the last image you have of Chrome — the only one who has ever managed to make your heart flutter, light up your entire world, and everything the books from the Golden Age describe between lovers.
You haven't had the chance to tell him how you feel. He can't die yet. You won't let him die.
There has never been a sweeter sound than the beep of your comm as Asimov finally shows up on the screen, lips forming words you can't hear. You connect your comm to the terminal in front of you, letting out a sigh of relief when Asimov's voice rings in your ears.
" —ear me? Can you hear me? What's the situation down there?"
"Immediate backup is needed. Don't know where Kamui and Wanshi are, but they should still be alive. Last saw them on the second floor in a room that looks like a manufacturing room. Chrome —" The words get stuck in your throat. "Chrome is alone in the warehouse in the basement. There's way too many Corrupted and —"
"Commandant Y/N. Calm down." A new voice joins the call. President Hassen steps into view, a troubled expression on his face. " Kamui and Wanshi's positions have just been confirmed. They are both alive and safely outside of the building. We will send reinforcements and supplies immediately, keep us updated with the situation on the ground. The entirety of Strike Hawk will be saved."
That's right. You're a Commandant. The Commandant of Strike Hawk, an elite squad. You should be behaving as such. You close your eyes, taking a shaky breath to calm down, and when you open your eyes, the Commandant of Strike Hawk Y/N L/N stands in front of the terminal. You and Strike Hawk will prevail, and in order for that to happen, you cannot panic.
"Apologies, President Hassen and Asimov. I will keep the both of you updated as requested and continue to find ways for Strike Hawk to regroup." You salute the figures and terminate the call. Your hands tremble as you count the number of bullets you have left, but you force them to remain steady. You can't shoot properly if your hands refuse to cooperate.
You make your way back to the basement and hear the sound of fighting. Good, it means your captain is still alive and you might just be able to save him.
"Chrome! The structural integrity of the building!" You shout into your comm, hoping that the captain can hear you.
"Countdown this time please." He huffs back and you grin.
"Of course."
You fire a few shots into the mass of Corrupted gathered at the door, taking some of them down but most importantly, getting their attention. They move towards you, screeching their eerie noises but you remain firmly in position. Two accurate tosses land well placed bombs on the pillars holding up the ceiling that the Corrupted are currently standing under and Chrome ensures that the Corrupted remain distracted. A few of them manage to injure you but you keep firing, corralling them. You dodge the attack of one and slap a bomb on the pillar on your side before signaling to Chrome that it's time.
He nods, and you dash towards him as he creates a split second path through the mass of Corrupted, pulling you into the room the moment you're within his scythe's reach and holding you tightly. You quickly slam the detonation button in your hand and press against him tightly as the bombs light the place up, taking down the entire place except for the room you and Chrome are in.
Dust clogs your nose, causing you to cough but at least you're alive. And so is Chrome. And so is Kamui. And so is Wanshi.
All of Strike Hawk is alive.
You sneeze, looking up into a pair of blue eyes filled with concern and shake your head.
"Kamui and Wanshi are alive. Babylonia is sending reinforcements and supplies." You gasp, letting go of your empty pistol. You've used every bullet you have, every weapon at your disposal and exhaustion finally hits you. You collapse into his arms, and feel him shift as he gently seats you on his lap when he sits down on the dusty floor.
"That was reckless." He says quietly, fingers interlacing with yours.
"We're alive." You grunt, lacking the energy to try justifying your actions.
"At least you signaled this time." You see the corners of his lips tug upwards ever so slightly.
"You're welcome." You mumble into his chest, ignoring all the vital fluids staining it.
"Stay awake, Y/N." He gives you a little poke, causing you to stir, irritated.
"Tired." You can feel blood trickling from your various wounds, painting Chrome's clothes crimson.
"That's exactly why you have to stay awake." There's urgency in his voice. "Stay awake for me, please, Y/N."
You let out a little snort, pushing yourself off him. He steadies you with his less injured arm when you sway from the exertion, alarm clear as day on his face.
"Let's be honest, it was kind of romantic, right?" You grin tiredly at him.
He stares at you in bewilderment. The adrenaline is truly making you delirious. "We almost died."
"In a romantic kind of way."
"None of that was romantic in the slightest." He deadpans.
"Really? Not the desperation to catch me, the holding tightly as the explosion went off, the shielding with one's body from the debris?"
"That…" His cheeks are dusted pink. "I'm a Construct, you're a human. You're more fragile than me so it's only right that I protect you, and you're my Commandant."
"Whatever you say, Romeo. Wait I take that back, Romeo and Juliet die at the end."
Chrome gives you yet another confused look, decides it's some reference from some artwork from the Golden Age that you've gotten into, and keeps you awake with questions about it until Babylonian reinforcements arrive to bring the both of you to a medical ward to get treated.
I'll bring you to do something actually romantic next time, Commandant. Something that doesn't involve almost dying, getting shot at, or getting exploded. I hope we have enough time for it. I want to see you smile more.
Just wanted to compile a little list of my favorites.
These range from 18+, to fluff, to angst, to suggestive (smut will be labeled 18+)
Knight's Longing - Sensabo
If you know my blog, this is not a surprise at all. I think I've talked about this fic like three times on here. It's gold if it were words. This is...not really angst or fluff, more of a character study if anything.
In This Moment - Sensabo
You like Noan? You like pain? Well do I have the fic for you! This is a slight canon divergence AU that takes place around CH26 / Cradle's Parade. If you know, you know.
|18+| 2023 Kinktober, Shameless - Starry
So, I did forget to mention (and was also self conscious about my writing so I lowkey didn't want to), but the Vonnegut segment is partly responsible for the existence of Forgive Me, My God. So...thank you for inadvertently enabling me?
Bloodbath - Starry
Yandere. Roland. Blood. My favorite things. Do I need to explain more? Like probably most people who are getting into the PGR fandom on tumblr, Starry's fics where one of, if not the first fanfics I read and this was absolutely the first Yandere PGR fic I read.
Am I The Only One? - Chronoshot
To be honest, these two fics by Chronos are a little special to me. Sprial of Chronos is one of my favorite patches and it's the one where I really got into PGR so it holds a special place in my heart
Luck Had Your Name - Chronoshot
This one I love a lot. The writing and use of color really emphasizes Lee's sincerity. On that note, this person is just a very good writer and you should read their stuff beyond this!
Regret - Les
a very cute little Chrome fluff fic that I read many, many moons ago but still warms my heart.
Marks & Claims - Les
A little Noctis fluff fic, one of the few that exist in English, I believe and I still remember being excited when I first saw it.
You Don't Have To Knock Next Time You Come In - Squishy
I still love this little yandere drabble from Squishy. They were the first one who really encouraged me on my blog and those asks and interactions I still hold dear to this day.
I, unfortunately, have yet to play Bloodborne, but I am obsessed with its aesthetic. Have you seen some of the scenery? Or the bosses? Terrifying, elegant, beautiful, and horrifying, are some of my favorite things. Hence why I had to read this AU. The ideas and potential this has definitely kept it in the back of my mind ever since I first read it.
Side Note: This author writes primarily Character X Character ships including Camu/Roland, Lee/Liv, Lee/Vera, Bianca/Watanabe so if that's something you've been looking for, consider checking them out!
Untitled Work - Shrimp Dumpling
Shrimp is one of the lovely people who participated in my PGR Writing Game, they have some lovely little fics that are honestly just a lot of fun to read.
Cherished Dreams - Eden
Do not be fooled by the author's ominous name, this is a fluff fic! With our one and only Wanshi written very beautifully.
|18+| Yandere Alpha - Rei
Look man, I have to include this okay. Ms. Lightning McQueen herself broke into my house and threatened me to do it, it's not my fault.
That's all that will be in this post, I will probably do this again at some point, but regardless I hope you found some new writers you'll enjoy. Remember to let them know that you appreciated their fics if you do!
I had difficulty writing about him since in the lore, the only time when Strike Hawks and Gray Raven interact is through special missions... I had to compromise the setting in order for this to work.
Anyways, please enjoy!
~•~•~•~•~
“Once upon a time, there was a princess that could not dream. She didn’t know the reason. She would watch her siblings over meals telling their adventures in dreamland, excited and anxious over the events during their sleep.”
Wanshi studied the data presented in his terminal that was sent by Babylonia the afternoon earlier. His eyes drooped and heavy as he let out a yawn. He wanted to sleep. He deserves it, he thought. He was able to guide survivors from the heavy attacks of Heterocreatures earlier with only three deaths… Sad, but commendable… but still, not enough.
His ears strained to the voice of a human telling a bedtime story to the children they saved.
“The princess listened, wondering if she could ever dream. Night came, and the words of her siblings echoed in her mind. She tossed and turned but to no avail. Sleep was not coming anytime soon. She was too invested in her siblings’ stories. This continued until daylight.”
A child, not older than seven, snuggled his bony body closer to the construct’s leg. His eyes were sunken and tired, latching onto the mechanical leg of the sniper medic. Wanshi watched as the other children slowly fell asleep. Their sleepy gaze and snores were infectious as he yawned once more.
“This is stupid.” The boy against his leg grumbled, “Why is the princess not dreaming?”
“Shh. Just listen.”
“The princess came to her parents, asking why she couldn’t dream. The queen sobbed while the king comforted his wife. She was dismissed. Her question wasn’t answered. She approached the maids and they excused themselves. She went to the guards, but they were suddenly alert. She was confused.”
Wanshi closed his eyes as he thought about the boy’s question. Why was the princess not dreaming? What was the purpose? As a former doctor, he also studied the reason why dreams occur. Scientifically, it would be explained, but tales are tales. The reason why the princess couldn’t dream might be magical and purely nonsensical.
“No one would answer her. Not even the royal doctor could help. But she was adamant. She wanted to know what it felt like to dream. Every day, she listens to her siblings intently, studying and coming to conclusions on how to dream. She tries every night to dream but only fails. The stories of her siblings only filled her mind all night. Then one day, she was finally able to dream. Not during sleep, but while she was awake.”
“Weird...” Wanshi patted the complaining boy.
The boy’s mouth was agape, eyes looking up at the eyes-closed construct, “what does that mean? ‘The end’?”
“She was so happy. She shared this exciting event with everyone, and they were ecstatic. The dreamless princess finally dreams! From then on, she would tell her stories during meals until she couldn’t tell anymore. The end.”
“It is what it is. It’s the end,” Wanshi picked up the boy and settled him near his friends, asleep in their bed.
“What?” The boy wiggled when Wanshi tucked him in, “that can’t be! Who made that stupid story?”
“Quiet. You’ll wake up the others,” he stretched, ruffling the boy’s hair before standing up.
The boy was clearly disappointed, the construct understood. Even he was wondering why the story ended like that.
“That sucked… Who even made that?”
“Sleep now.”
“I want to meet them! I want answers!”
Wanshi treaded carefully around the sleeping children and took the recording device, “hm, you can’t. They're busy.”
“Why not? At least tell me what the ending means.” He pouted, rubbing his eyes and nuzzling deeper into his pillow.
His yellow eyes fell on the half-asleep boy, his thumb stroking the device in his hand.
“The princess was daydreaming to dream. To tell stories.”
The boy yawned, “that doesn’t answer… the question…” He was finally asleep. Thank goodness.
Wanshi slowly left the tent, laying down on a crate beside where the children rested. Other constructs patrol the perimeter, looking for any sign of enemies. It was a still night.
As he lay on the crate, he closed his eyes and replayed the story, setting the recording device near his ear and putting in a minimum volume. He listened to the voice of the Commandant, telling him the story of one of their joint missions in the past that he secretly recorded.
I want to meet them! I want answers!
“Sorry, kid,” he mumbled, letting out another yawn.
“They no longer tell stories.”
~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~~
A little fun idea I incorporate in this drabble! In case you all are confused, Wanshi meant that the Commandant was like the princess.
The phrase "from then on, she would tell her stories during meals until she couldn’t tell anymore" figuratively described the Commandant. The Commandant that works for humanity until they can no longer work.
I have my end of the bargain. Hyperreal Lee just corrupts me so m u c h
pair: hyperreal lee x f!commandant
contents: soft!hyperreal lee, a bit suggestive towards the end, also soft kind of angst, we're back on earth boiz, imagine the virus is gone and we live with him and the other constructs!!!, there's a small twist at the end, don't bother it~
words: 2,375
It started as a saintly devotion. One that persisted until the end of time.
A small prayer. A soft whisper. An eager longing. For a world without worries, for a world where no one suffered. Once upon a time, there was an era where the gods died and man was left defenseless in the face of death—until they learned how to rebuild their empires to fight against them just for survival.
Once upon a time, it was an era of corrupted versus humankind. But now...
Gentle sunlight would kiss your skin. The smell of dandelions and bacon would wake your mornings. You have a soft bed, a comfortable and cozy room, and the light of day.
A blissful kind of reality—one akin to devotion.
❝[Name]?❞ a dawdled out voice called out nearby. Your feet, accustomed to the softness of the floor instead of a metal one, drag along the path and you started to make your way to the other side of the door.
As you open it, a brooding figure looms over the other end. You come face to face with the dog tag hung on his chest—a proud memorabilia of your victory.
❝[Name], why are you already out of bed?❞ You trail your eyes down to see him holding a tray of your breakfast, made for two.
❝You called my name,❞ sleepily, you answered, a yawn cutting you off midway, ❝I thought you need anything.❞
❝It's okay, I was wondering if you were awake.❞ The softness laced in his voice filled your heart with an unexplainable warmth. In kindness, you reached out to touch his hand, gently pulling him to the bed.
❝Lee,❞ you giggle as he carefully held your food in his hands, ❝come on, we should eat. I'm starving!❞
His laugh mirrored your own. Sitting at the other end of the bed, he laid out what he intended to serve: two plates of a sunny side-up egg and a scrambled one, three bacon strips on each plate, a toast of bread on each side, and a glass of milk and coffee. Lee had designed it simply the way you liked it; you didn't mind though, you liked whatever he made for you.
❝This sunny-side up egg is yours,❞ he said as he placed the plate with the mentioned type of egg, ❝cooked the way you told me.❞
❝Thank you, but why does yours look good,❞ you pouted, eyeing the delicious scrambled egg on his plate, ❝I want to taste.❞
❝They're still eggs,❞ Lee chuckled, ❝there's no difference to it.❞
Childishly, you opened your mouth and formed a letter "O", never breaking eye contact from the man. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused with your actions.
❝[Name], what are you doing?❞
❝Ah,❞ you motioned to your open mouth and to his egg, ❝Ah-ah!❞
Lee shook his head. Carefully slicing out a piece using his spoon, he guided it to your mouth. But before it reached your lips, he swerved it to the direction of his own mouth. Bewildered, you let out a gasp of surprise before covering your mouth.
❝How dare you!❞
❝You were too slow.❞
You playfully shoved his shoulder as you laughed, your own mirroring him. After a few more spoonful, he decided to let you taste his other dish.
❝Open your mouth wider, [name]. This will go to waste if you don't.❞
❝What if I don't want to?❞
His thumb was holding your lip to open them, hand supporting your jaw. Warm radiates all over your face as he continued to look into your eyes, his other hand steadily guiding the spoonful of food to your mouth.
❝Then you won't taste it.❞ He smiled before placing the spoon on your tongue.
❝You're mean,❞ you say as you bunch on the food he had given you, the warmth that bubbled earlier in your chest bubbling once again.
❝I did let you taste mine, hm?❞ Wordlessly, he reached out again to cup your chin, thumb grazing the corner of your mouth ever so gently, ❝don't be too greedy and eat slowly.❞
Your nose crinkled at the contact. A part of you refrained to bite his thumb playfully, but your heart—it was beating too fast.
Lee handed you his glass of milk, silver gloves grasping the cup. ❝do you like your food?❞
A smile graced your lips unnoticed. Taking a sip from the glass, you nodded, aware of his goodness, ❝Of course.❞
The milk was warm.
It was a sunny day.
A vase full of dandelions. A lingering scent of cinnamon. An echo of laughter among the hallways.
The house was a home full of various scents. Two people that lived lush green and brimming with wildflowers. Under the sun, they had nothing to lose. Under the sun, all they had was each other.
You yawned as you swept the last dust outside. The morning barely started but the sun was already lulling you to sleep.
❝All done?❞ Lee's voice echoed from the other room. Turning your head, he emerged with a small robot in hand—a new handiwork.
❝Mhm, are you done tinkering your new work?❞
❝Barely. I've been asking parts from Karenina since last week, but she's still not responding.❞
You walked to his direction, attention already caught by the small toy. ❝It looks cute.❞
❝I try to make it look cute. So far, it's giving me problems here and there.❞
Lightly, you trace the outline of the toy, ❝mm...who commissioned you this time?❞
Lee went silent. You dragged your fingers to the outline of his hand, the silver rim cool in your touch. ❝another from Babylonia?❞
❝...would say something like that,❞ he chuckled nervously, ❝but at the same time, no.❞
Lee may be talented in making things work, but he was bad at lying. But still, you laughed and patted his hand, ❝okay, okay, I won't pry.❞
He breathed out a sigh of relief, but was caught off guard when you reached out to squeeze his cheeks. A loud cry escaped his lips and you bolted into a run around the hallway.
❝[Name]!!❞
Your laughter resonated along the hallway.
It was a cool afternoon.
A picnic. A shady tree. An afternoon of living.
The glare of the sun was unkind, but the wind granted you both a clear sky. Under the ruffles of your sundress, the wild playfully blew, but Lee was a gentleman—he didn't look down; only held you by your waist as you walked to the spot under the tree.
❝I guess your weather forecast has been accurate.❞ You said as you laid out the blanket, ❝it's too windy today though.❞
❝I've still yet to adjust it to Earth's new ecosystem.❞ He sighed, placing the basket down, ❝but I'm glad it's accurate still.❞
❝You sound really cute when you talk about that stuff.❞
A small blush crept its way to Lee's face, ❝it's the only thing I'm good at.❞
You propped yourself to the blanket, patting the empty space beside you. Without a word, he slipped to your side. You smiled at your comrade—gently patting his cheek. ❝You're good with a lot of things, Lee.❞
❝Yeah, you think?❞
Your mind wandered for a moment, before opening your mouth to speak. ❝You make all these robots for people. They love it.❞
❝That's my specialty—❞
❝—hold on, I'm not done.❞
Reaching out to the sky, the light of the afternoon spilled through the foliage of trees. In your hand danced the sun—the very heat that kissed your palms and skin when morning comes and when the afternoon sets. ❝Lee is...when I can't hold the sun, I can hold him instead.❞
Curiously, he mimicked your actions. You hadn't realized how close you were to his body when one side of yours had been leaning to him, his other free hand holding you by the waist. Without hesitation, you let your pinky brush his thumb, the small action making you breathe out a satisfied sigh.
❝I never would have thought we could live like this on Earth.❞ You confess as a whisper, heart drumming wild in your chest.
❝Mm...yes. So did I.❞ In kind, his thumb carefully wrapped your pinky.
The sunlight never burned in your hands but his touch felt like walking through the sun's core. Oh, how heavenly did it feel when he took your hand and enclosed it with his own. Taking it to his mouth, a small kiss on top of your own. Lee never broke eye contact as he continued to place the back of your hand to his lips.
❝Would you mind,❞ he whispered in your palm as the wind passed by, ❝would you mind if we can stay like this forever?❞
You did not need to answer. Your presence was already the response. But you smiled anyway.
❝Yes, Lee.❞
For a moment, you could hear the skip in his heart if it were a speaker. You basked in that moment.
❝I will stay with you forever.❞
He was warm.
It ended with an unwavering devotion.
A loud prayer. An honest confession. A promise for a lifetime.
You are in your bed, tangled with Lee as your breaths mingled in the air, the orange hues outside indicating the setting sun. The bed creaked with your movements, but you didn't care—all you could focus was how close he held you in his arms as you sat on his lap, how his breath seemed to send your thoughts into overdrive as he kissed your face, how his incessant hands ignited anywhere he touched.
You lived in the moment, the same way he did.
❝Lee,❞ you said his name like a prayer, and he only answered in soft breaths. He was a man starved for your affection, and you could not help but succumb to him.
No words spoke as he held you tightly in his arms, seemingly afraid to let go. You touched his shoulder, expecting the metal frame, but—
❝is something wrong?❞ his voice was laced with uncertainty, lips detached from your neck.
You held your hold over his shoulder, before squeezing it.
❝Do I seem different?❞ He spoke.
You shook your head, sighing. ❝I am just thinking.❞
Everything seemed to crash all over you at once; the war, the corrupted, Babylonia, and the other constructs under your care. You felt the threat of your tears spilling from your eyes, but Lee looked back. Using his thumb, he caressed cheek.
❝You seem upset.❞ He whispered. He shifted his hold to the nape of your neck, pulling to his direction until both of your foreheads touched.
❝[Name],❞ he closed his eyes, the tremble of his voice making it harder for you to hold your tears. ❝what are you thinking?❞
Unconsciously, you cupped his cheek, before reaching out to hold the dog tag he wore all this time. You brought it to your lips, muttering something like a prayer, before leaving a kiss.
❝All this time, you fought a war for humans, for me.❞ Your other hand slipped down to where his heart was—❝does it hurt?❞
Constructs were pawns and tools of humans; they would fight for them, bleed for them, and even die for them. The brains of the ones who created the concept was extraordinary yet far too selfish—all for man to do was to survive, no matter who they stepped along the way.
You witnessed how many times your constructs would die for you, yet all you could do was watch from the sidelines. You watched Lee save you countless of times—the memory of his sacrifice to keep you alive was still fresh.
❝Why think of that, [name]?❞ He whispered, a kiss on your cheekbone, ❝of course, it once hurt. But not anymore.❞
❝You were the one who's always there for me, but I could never give back to you.❞
Contructs died the day their body was on the operation table and they rebuilt themselves as another person. You knew that. Yet the amount of times Lee—your Lee—would willingly give his life for you was uncountable.
Lee didn't speak. Instead, he held you tighter. ❝Oh, [name],❞
Wordlessly, both of his hands were now on your cheeks. Your hand that was hovered over his chest was warm—the thrumming of his heartbeat was louder than you've ever heard, that you felt it resonate all over your body; from the tip of your ears to the curl of your toes.
❝You being here is enough for me.❞ He placed a kiss to your forehead, ❝the war is over, we can live the way you wanted.❞ a kiss on your eyelids, ❝a house that is never cold like Babylonia,❞ a kiss on your cheekbone, ❝a garden full of vegetables and flowers we love,❞ a kiss to your jaw, ❝a home where we could spend all the days of your life full of love.❞
As a final answer, he kissed you—full of honesty, full of love, that your tears started to pour.
❝I devoted myself to you the day I was in your care, commandant. No matter where you go, I'd always follow.❞
He whispered once more, ❝you make me feel human.❞
❝Morial,❞ you spoke his real name, and for once, you felt him shiver in your touch. ❝how...❞
Hell got lost inside the heaven you've made.
❝Say my name, [name].❞
A swell of pride and warmth filled your chest, his lips touching yours as you called him again, ❝Morial.❞
Again and again, you called his name. He called yours, too. In a flurry of warmth under the fading light of the sun, you found yourself in his embrace.
A saintly devotion. One that presisted even until the end of time.
A loud beep rung out.
A world without corrupted, a world that was finally happy.
Imagine just, Lee witnessing his commandant dying to save him, lets say he got injured and yk the commandant steps in to help him win the fight against the corrupted, ofc they win but the cost is their life.
And, if you dont feel like writing this or you dont accept angst feel free to ignore/delete this request! TY :D
REASON WHY
a/n : anon !! did you know i have this unfinished lee angst with this exact scenario but also slightly different? in my drafts ... thank u for the request <3, i actually had to learn more about how constructs work or else i won't be following the lore but angst is angst so oh well!
3 /06 / 2022 ; all because of the construct you loved so much.
╰ ✦ character/s : lee x gn ! reader
╰ ✦ genre ; angst
╰ ✦ tw ; blood, death, yknow how it is in the angst world
╰ ✦ check my other works here ; MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗
the strong stench of vital fluid mixed with red human blood reached your nose as you continued to dodge the hits of the corrupted surrounding you and lee, even a thousand shouts from lee telling you to stay back didn't stop you from entering the battlefield to keep him safe. he punched the ground with his fist as he continued to shout for you to come back, he was frustrated that he got tired and fell down from the battle.
you could not bear to see him shouldering all of it while waiting for the other two members to reunite with both of you.
lee could not bear to see you throwing yourself in battle just like that and that caused him to panic, he took in every detail, cuts and cuts and cuts on your delicate skin that he wished he could run his thumb over and heal it with his lips but he see you fend off on your own with the last of the corrupted and fell with it's damaged body. you had fought the corrupted and when all was done, so were you.
lee saw how the commandant crawled to him, dragging their bloody human body to the damaged construct, lee remembered how they struggled to sit beside him and place their head on his shoulders told him words of comfort. It was like they tried to erase the terrible outcomes that will happen next, like they were reassuring not only him but the commandant themselves. he was afraid to talk, afraid that when he asks a question - silence would be the reply.
and when lee had woken up and his frame fixed he shouted your name, asked for you when he saw lucia and liv beside him and they looked at him with an emotion too human.
at night when lee was alone, your voice lingers in the silent night until it became a memory. he wanted you to haunt him, bring him down below where you are. he envied that death had wrapped itself on you before he could do so.
the doctors said that there were multiple wounds - too many of them, that you had lost too much blood and that you were beyond saving. they said that you continued to fight and tried to live even if you knew you didn't have a chance against death itself. the doctor even silently wept for you, pitied your state because who would want to survive in this barren world? why struggle to stay alive despite all odds? but you knew the answer, deep down when you were hanging on a thread of your life was your last thought, lee.
the doctor didn't know it was all because you wanted to see the sunrise once more, wanted to fight beside liv, lucia, and lee once more, to play with kamui once more, and to find small little details about the construct you loved so much.
all because of the construct you loved so much.
Yooooooo, i really love your writings for Watanabe and Kamui 😭❤ May i please ask for Chrome? :') it could be fluff, angst, whatever you have in mind honestly. Thank you and have a nice day/night!
Hello, anon! Thank you for the ask (and kind words)! I'm sorry it took so long to get to this; life's been a bit of a bitch lately (><)
Since you didn't request anything in particular, I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore something I've had in mind for a while.
This is about the concept of grief, the myriad aspects of it, and the ever-changing spectrum of ways it can be experienced. I explored each facet using a colour of the rainbow because I think it's interesting to link something usually associated with happiness to pain. It's an explorative and somewhat introspective piece, and perhaps a little weird, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Take heed, it's a long one (3.8k)!
P.S.: if you don't like it, please feel free to submit another ask! I'm aware I may have taken a bit too much creative liberty with this one haha.
TW: major character death, angst.
Chasing Fire // CHROME
There are colours to grief. Sorrow is red and blue and violet, and everything in between. You can wear it like clothes, watch as it draws the eye and shuts the mouth. You can look through it like glass and see the world unfold. You can paint with it, stories and songs cradled in the empty space between your ribs.
You can breathe it in, but you can’t breathe it out.
Once you invite it in, it never leaves.
R E D | c h a s i n g f i r e
You lay in his arms, a broken doll weeping red. Blood had soaked through your shirt, inking your skin with tattoos of violence. There was so much of it. So thick it was smothering. So dark it was almost black. Chrome bit his lip and put more pressure on your wound. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, to see the pallor of it and know that death was calling. To know that he was the one who’d failed you.
“Stay with me, Commandant,” he said, fighting to keep the panic from his voice. “Don’t fall asleep.”
“I’m not asleep,” you slurred. Bloodless lips curled into the ghost of a smile. “Just resting my eyes.” Your breaths were rapid and shallow, in time with a hummingbird pulse that grew fainter by the minute.
“Tell me a story,” he said urgently. “The last book you read?”
Your eyelids fluttered, but didn’t open. It took you several long beats to answer. “We don’t have to do this, Chrome.” Your fingers closed around his wrist. “I know.”
He bit back the lies that curled on his tongue. He wanted so much to deny, to look away from the unbearable truth, but he couldn’t lie to you. He never could. He reached out to caress your face, thumb brushing over the swell of your cheek. You exhaled softly. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head weakly. “Not your fault.”
“How can you say that? I promised them I’d bring you home. I was supposed to protect you and--”
You pressed a finger to his lips. Chrome could taste the blood on your skin. “Shhh,” you said with some effort. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright.”
“It’s not okay,” he insisted, holding your trembling hand between his own. “None of this is okay.”
“Well… I forgive you anyway.”
Those words shattered something inside him. Like a dam breaking, tears streamed down his face, drawn from some deep well of anguish without end. The pain inside him was a hunger that could not be satisfied, and would not be contained. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t shape the words. Silent screams tore themselves from his throat, taking with them shattered pieces of his inhuman heart. Right then, he wasn’t a Construct; he was just a man with human hurts and human sorrows, mourning the loss of a human life. His grief called forth your own tears. They spilled down your cheeks in a bitter chain. Each staccato breath sent electric pain through your broken body, but you couldn’t stop. There was simply too much. Too much pain, too much regret. Too many things that needed to be said and not enough time to even begin. You could only cry and cry, and hope that Chrome understood.
“Please don’t leave me,” he begged, head bent against yours. His voice was ragged and raw. “Please stay.”
“I want to,” you breathed against his lips. There were no more tears left in you. No space for grief. Only a dull ache and a growing numbness. “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”
Chrome could have screamed. He could have ripped the world apart over the injustice of it all. But none of that would save you. He couldn’t kiss you better or change fate or reverse the flow of time. He could only hold you as you slipped from this world, as helpless as sand before the tide.
“I would do anything to fix this,” he said, cradling your head between his hands. Your eyes were unfocused, the skin around them tight with pain. “I wish…” He blinked away the blurriness in his vision and tried again. “I wish I could have protected you.”
“What a… simple wish,” you rasped. “Lucky it already came true.”
“What?”
You smiled. Or tried to. It was hard to know what your body was doing anymore. “You protected my mind… My soul. That’s enough.” You swallowed thickly. It was getting harder to breathe. “Is it dark already? I’m so cold.”
Chrome gathered you to him gently. His arms around you were tight, but you hardly felt it. “I’m here,” he said in your ear, again and again. “I’ll always be here.”
Your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder. A chill was spreading through your body, as if ice had replaced the blood in your veins. It was uncomfortable, but you welcomed it. At least it didn’t hurt anymore. “Tell me something nice,” you said, letting your eyes drift shut. “A story… With a happy ending.”
A small sob escaped from Chrome. His breath quivered, dancing over your skin in small puffs of warmth. You wanted to wipe the tears from his face, to comfort him and be comforted in turn. But your body was no longer yours. It danced with death now, and you were simply a spectator in the stalls. You were so tired. You’d fought for so long. All you wanted was to sleep. Here, at the end of it all, you set down your burdens and let yourself rest. I’m listening, Chrome, you thought languidly, as the rhythms of your body slowed.
-----------
Chrome felt like he was breaking apart at the seams, losing the very essence of himself to an uncaring world. All of his fleeting happiness felt so far away, like the remnants of an impossible dream. There was only a brief moment in time that was free of pain, brilliant and blinding like sunlight on waves. A lonely memory of kinder times.
He returned to the landscape of his childhood, and began.
“Once upon a time, there was a prince who wanted for nothing. He had gold and gems and servants to fulfill his every wish. The world was at his fingertips, but he had no friends. He was lonely.” You gave a tiny hum. Chrome continued. “He searched high and low, but nobody cared for his formality and stiffness. They called him a robot, who didn’t know what it meant to be human. Then one day, he met a beautiful girl. She caught his attention immediately.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “She treated the prince like any other person, without fear or judgement. And so she became his first and dearest friend.”
You mumbled something, though he couldn’t make out the words. “The two went on many adventures together, defeating great evils across the lands. Dark beasts and corrupt kings and disease. After their journey closed, the prince found that he’d fallen in love with her. He loved her beauty, her bravery, and her intellect. She was everything he wasn’t and more besides. Their marriage was celebrated across the kingdom. Together, they ruled fairly and--” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. “And there was no more suffering in their lands. Everyone was happy, but none more so than the king and queen. The end.”
You were silent. Your tortured breaths had faded to pained little gasps like you were choking on air. Your body twitched in his arms, fighting enemies he couldn’t see. Chrome let out a broken sob. “Go then,” he said. “Go if it hurts. Go. I love you.”
That seemed to be the permission you needed. Your body stilled with a final exhale. You were slack and cold against his chest, a dead weight upon his soul. He struggled against the urge to scream. Chrome buried his face in your neck and breathed you in, lavender on blood mixed with a cloying sweetness. “Come back,” he whispered against your skin. “Please come back to me.”
His heart beat steadily in his breast, a perfectly inhuman thing that never wavered. But he could still feel it break.
He wept like his soul was being ripped apart.
Grief is red, roses and thorns all at once. Like chasing fire, I reach for the warmth of memory, but there is only the burn of flame. There is no comfort here, only endless paths of pain.
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O R A N G E | b u r n i n g c o a l s
Hassen sighed. “I understand you’re distressed,” he said. “But I won’t accept your resignation.” He held up a hand before Chrome could object. “People who want to be Constructs are rare. Those who are compatible are even rarer. If you leave, there’s nobody to replace you as leader of Strike Hawk.”
“Kamui or Banji are more than capable,” Chrome countered adamantly. “They’re just as experienced.”
Hassen raised a brow. “Surely I don’t need to tell you experience isn’t the only measure of competence.”
Chrome fell silent. He knew Hassen was right, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. His spirit was shattered. Picking up the broken pieces was a mountain he didn’t know how to climb. “I don’t know how to go on,” he said finally. “It’s too painful.”
“It’s painful now, but it’ll pass,” Hassen said. His breath hitched. “Trust me.”
Chrome didn’t think he could trust anyone ever again. Himself least of all. He nodded mutely. Hassen seemed satisfied with that. He turned to leave before pausing at the door. “You should attend the funeral,” he said after a moment. “It’ll help.”
Chrome felt like he’d been slapped. “No,” he said immediately. “I doubt Gray Raven wants to see the man who killed their Commandant.”
“They’ve had time to process. And grieve. I think they’ll want to see you.”
He said nothing. He could hardly look at the other man. Hassen sighed. “Just think about it.”
The doors hissed shut behind him.
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He couldn’t go to the funeral. He’d thought about it like Hassen asked, but there would be too much of you there. Too many reminders that you were gone, not even bones left to hold. He didn’t want to hear others talking of your life and glorifying your death. He couldn’t bear to hear of your bravery when all he could see was the fear in your face and the regret in your eyes. He still remembered the tremble in your hands, the way you’d clung to him and wept. Your words rang in his mind. Those words that chased him from day to night, and haunted him in hollow dreams.
I’m scared. I don’t want to die.
Chrome buried his face in his hands. The tears swept over the plains of his soul, trying to ease an unquenchable hellfire. He clenched at the sheets. Tore at his hair. He slammed his fist into the ground until sparks flew from metallic joints.
But there was nothing that could heal the wound within.
Grief is orange. Burning coals simmering under the surface, stirred to flame by the gentlest of reminders. It hides and it sleeps, but it never dies.
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Y E L L O W | s e t t i n g s u n
He stumbled, gasping for breath. His entire body hurt. Vital fluid leaked from a dozen places, but Chrome ignored it. Another swing, another slash. Corrupted hands reached for him like the groping hands of death. Something sharp dug into his shoulder. He grunted and swept his scythe in a blazing arc before yanking the blade from his body. His vision glitched. Warning signals flashed. Vital fluid loss. Stabilisation module damaged. Core processing unit under extreme strain. Chrome swept matted hair from his eyes. He didn’t need to be told his body was failing. He could feel it in the heaviness of his limbs, in the flaring pain that accompanied every movement. The world was dark around the edges.
Is this how you felt, Commandant? Did it hurt like this?
His legs buckled. The ground rose to meet him even as the bright edge of a blade descended on his right. Chrome closed his eyes.
“CAPTAIN!”
The clash of metal on metal was followed by the thunderous crash of something collapsing. Strong hands picked him up as his teammates slung his arms over their shoulders. “It’s not like you to be so reckless,” Kamui said with real fear. “It’s almost like you want to die.”
“I--” He broke off. Did he want to die? He hadn’t tried to defend himself at all. But he could have. He knew he could have.
“Not yet,” Banji said quietly from his other side. “We still need you, Captain.”
Chrome hung his head. Shame and regret warred in his fragile heart. He didn’t know how to feel, but one thing was clear:
It wasn’t yet time. He’d have to keep you waiting a little longer.
Grief is yellow. Soft and gentle, like the afterglow of a setting sun. Even when the flame has gone, it remains. It doesn’t burn anymore, but it haunts me all the same.
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G R E E N | j a d e d e y e s
The days were getting easier. He still felt the loss of you like a missing limb, but your phantom hands no longer suffocated him. Your lips no longer kissed to kill. You’d turned from a vengeful spectre into something softer, a shade that kept him company in the dark. He breathed, it seemed, for the first time in a long time.
Yet his mind still caught at the smallest things. Lovers kissing in the dark. Two hands twined together. Laughter around the corner. He missed the warmth of your touch, soft and tender in a way only humans could truly be. He yearned for the press of your skin against his, intimate and secret in the lonely nights. He wanted to hear your voice and kiss your lips. More than anything, he wanted you beside him. Loving him as you could, the way he loved you.
But there was only a shadow by his side, clinging to him with invisible claws. It held your shape and stole your face, but Chrome knew it for the monster that it was.
“Congratulations,” he said politely, handing a beautifully wrapped present to the bride. “May your love be everlasting.”
The couple beamed at him, radiant in their happiness. Their gratitude was as real as his words were false.
He turned away.
Grief is green. Envious eyes, jealous heart. I thought I was healing, but perhaps I am healing wrong. Who is the man in the mirror?
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B L U E | o c e a n d e p t h s
Chrome, you said. Remember to breathe.
I am breathing, he thought, suddenly aware of the rising bubbles all around him. Big and small, wild and free, running towards the light above. Am I breathing?
You laughed. I’m not sure. I can’t tell.
He purposefully took a large gulp. Air flooded into his lungs despite the sunlit ocean around him. He laughed. That’s strange. Have I turned into a fish?
You’re very much not a fish, you confirmed. He couldn’t see you, but your voice was clear. Everywhere and nowhere all at once, like you were the very water itself.
Where are you? He looked around, but there was only the endless sea. Crystalline waters vast and empty, and so beautifully blue.
You sounded sad. Not with you, though I wish I was.
Then come, Chrome said happily. I’ll pick you up. Just like always.
If only you could. But I think I’m a little too far away.
What do you mean?
You didn’t answer. The ocean was growing dark around him, black ink like oil rising from the depths. Smoky tendrils curled around his legs. He shuddered. Trying to kick them off only seemed to create more. He kicked towards the surface, but the sunlight was gone. The waters were ice against his skin, cold and unwelcoming. A black hand closed around his throat.
Chrome thrashed desperately, but there was no escape. The blackness was complete, like the hand of night had crushed the world in its palm. There was no beginning and no end, no up or down. Only a darkness so deep it consumed all else. Help! Don’t leave!
I can’t stay, you said. Your voice was already fading. Let me go, Chrome.
Wait! He inhaled a lungful of grease. Come back!
But you were gone.
The sea swallowed him whole.
-----------
Chrome woke with a start. The room was still grey; his alarm hadn’t gone off yet. He rubbed a hand over his face and stared at the sheets tangled around his feet. There was no black sea after all. Just twisted linen and hopeless dreams.
He rose and got dressed.
Grief is blue. Endless like the ocean and just as deep. Vaster than the sky and just as curious. Always it finds new shapes to take, and new ways to hurt me.
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I N D I G O | s c a r t i s s u e
He’d taken to wearing your engagement ring on a chain around his neck. Always tucked away so nobody could see. Always there, warm against his artificial heart. He fingered the polished metal. It was a simple band. No diamonds or gold, not that there was any left to be had. But you’d smiled at him all the same, accepting his proposal with a giddy joy that had kindled his own.
Chrome had secretly recorded the moment, intending to play it at your wedding. That was a shattered dream now, but he couldn’t bring himself to delete the data. He watched the clip again, smiling softly at the happy grin on your face. You peppered his face with kisses, arms and legs wrapped around his body. There was no audio, but he could hear every word.
He flicked the video off. Things like this no longer bothered him. Distance and time had dulled the pain and stitched his wound closed. The knife’s edge of memory was almost a comfort now, barely a scratch when it used to be a stab. Still, though he no longer bled, the scars lingered. And they would never let him forget. They would never let him forgive.
No amount of time would ever wipe the stain of your blood from his soul.
Grief is indigo. It’s what emerges at the edge of night, when the heat of day has passed. It’s the scar tissue that remains when the wound has closed. Even when it no longer hurts, I’ll always carry the memory of that pain.
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V I O L E T | u n s e e n s o u l
“If we attack from here, we can catch them in a pincer move,” Chrome said, pointing to the map. “Our chances of success will increase.”
“I agree,” she said, flashing a smile at him. Her hand rested close to his, so close he could feel the heat of her on his skin. “Looks like the majority agree with Chrome.” She nodded. “Great. That’s the plan then. Meeting adjourned.”
Chrome made to leave. “Wait, Captain.”
He turned. She smiled at him, clearing her throat awkwardly as she waited for the others to file out. Someone winked at him as the room emptied. His heart sank.
“So,” she started when it was just the two of them. “You really took charge of that meeting.”
“Just doing my job,” he said lightly. “Can I help you with something else?”
She hesitated before meeting his eyes. They were large and earnest, so like yours. And yet so very different. His heart squeezed painfully. “I was wondering if you’d like to catch up for lunch sometime?” she asked shyly. Her voice was small and uncertain, so different from the proud Commandant of minutes ago.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away. “I’m unavailable.”
She deflated immediately. “Really? I thought… I was told that you didn’t have anyone at the moment. Is it just me then?”
“It’s not you. It’s...” He trailed off. There really was no way to say it. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”
“Is it… Is it your fiancee? I heard about what happened.”
Chrome said nothing. She studied him and sighed. “It’s been three years since then, hasn’t it? This could be the start of something new.”
He smiled ruefully. “It could,” he admitted, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “But it won’t. I’m sorry.”
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Chrome returned to his room. Your ring gleamed on the table, scuffed and bent after all the battles it’d seen. You’d loved that thing like it wasn’t just a piece of scrap metal. It carried a piece of your soul and would always be beautiful for it. Because it wasn’t just a fragment of you, it was the part of you that had been given to him freely in love and acceptance. And now, it was the only thing left to him. A dead thing that had taken your place in his heart.
He sighed and sat on the bed. His room was the same as ever. The same four walls, the same white sheets. The same desk and lights and air. Only you had changed, leaving your physical body behind for a ghost that haunted him. But even that was gone now. There was only your ring, and the ash of his memories.
Chrome thought back to the woman. He couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that was drawn to her, but there was a bigger part of him that couldn’t let you go. The Gray Ravens had gotten a new Commandant two years ago, one they treated with as much respect as they had you. Neither Kamui nor Banji had mentioned your name in years. The world had moved on while you slept.
If he joined them and looked to the future, if he allowed himself to forget… You really would disappear. Just another grave. Just another statistic. He couldn’t bear that. Even if the world forgot, he wouldn’t.
So long as he remembered, some piece of you would remain here, with him.
So long as he remembered, he could pretend that life was still worth living. Because deep down, Chrome knew that while his body still moved and his heart still beat, the pieces of him that made him whole had died with you.
And you would always be gone.
Grief is violet. I can’t always see it, but it’s always there. The hidden seventh, an unseen soul. My love, one day, we’ll meet again. And I’ll tell you a brand new story.
Warnings: Angst, you died and he's mourning, slight obsessiveness?
A/N: Punishment for @yandere-yearnings . Dice will be next if you're not careful. Also I didn't sleep at all, so there's probably a lot of weird grammar mistakes
Post the surgery, he had no intentions of living beyond the obligation to look after his brother and ensure his safety. Humans were a loathsome species and he had become no different.
At the very least, his newfound bolts and wires could serve as a comfort. A shield to guard against the flesh and all it's maliciousness. Something to separate him from his blood-soaked hands.
That's more or less how he expected things to go, but then- as you tend to do- you ruined that. You were the one human who had made it through this world not yet tainted with hatred, or greed. A dove left alone amongst a roost of hawks and vultures.
You didn't belong in the battlefield, and he spent many times trying to convince you of that, but you never listened. For once, his past was something he was grateful for, because at least he knew how to protect you now and at least he had a body capable of withstanding far more than he could before.
He was free to push himself as much as he needed to protect you, to keep you safe, whole, and his.
That was what he hoped. What he was determined to do whenever he caught himself daydreaming of boring days and quiet evenings spent together.
That's how your story should've ended.
Instead, it ended with your bittersweet tears and silent farewells as he watched your demise approach too slowly to bear, yet too quickly to stop. It ended with your gasps of pain followed by a scream he can't forget. It ended with him reflected in your hollow pupils.
All he had were a few of your belongings and memories he recounted through the pictures of you on his wall. The times you spent together, the times you were with friends, the times you smiled, the times you cried, the times you tried to hide pieces of yourself from him. You never knew just how much attention he paid to you in your every waking moment, how quickly he memorized the sound of your footsteps, or how many sighing breaths it took for you to sleep.
At first, he was glad you didn't know, but now he wished you did. If only so you knew how empty you would leave him when you're gone. If only so you'd know how severely he retreated into the shell you first found him in, but now even more distant- enough that no one else would ever be able to penetrate the wall he made for himself and you.
Every day, every hour, every second he spent craning his senses to find a you that no longer lived. He still found himself by your desk, turning up the sensitivity of his hearing modules at the same time everyday right around when you would appear, he still fixed the commandants equipment like it was you instead of someone else, he still found himself wondering when you'd come in all bleary eyed from paperwork- looking for something to wake you up before he'd convince you to sleep.
Life felt full when you were around and he finally had something within his reach to care for.
Life was good when you were here. He's sorry he didn't recognize that sooner.