glassessence

[glassessence]

(ΦωΦ) PGR requests! PGR requests! Can I please have some cute dating headcanons with Lee? Or even like, just a cute and soft oneshot with Lee?

It's completely 100% up to you what scenario they're in if you go with the oneshot~. (*´∀｀*)

Hello! I'm alive (and back). Life has been insane and no, it's not under control but I'm back nonetheless (to fulfil ancient fic requests that people have probably forgotten about and no longer care for but no matter; we persevere.)

I'm an angst writer through and through, but I tried my best to do cute and soft. I'm sorry if it's not what you were looking for, but I hope you can derive some enjoyment from it regardless.

Also, I really am sorry that it's literally a hundred years too late. I just suck LOL

a moment of peace   |   lee 

"One day the war will end. I want people to remember that there was more."

In the wake of a catastrophic injury, Lee helps the Commandant remember what they're fighting for: a life, a dream. A hope for the future that once was.

You grunted with effort, levering yourself awkwardly from the comforts of your bed. It had been six weeks since the accident. Lucia and Liv continued to refer to it as ‘The Incident’ and adamantly dodged questions from other teams. Anyone talking to them would think you’d died. In fact, you were pretty sure Kamui thought you had.

Three weeks ago, it’d been amusing. You’d even encouraged it. But now, as the second month of your handicap loomed on the horizon, all you felt was angry. You were sick of being sick, tired of being tired. Those who had seen the planet, who’d borne witness to the ruinous beauty of a broken earth, could never be contented to stay. And while you were idling away in the sterile comforts of Babylonia, the Punishing advanced below. 

Frustrated, you shifted in the wheelchair, punching the cushion behind you into submission. The contraption was uncomfortable, no matter how many curses or how much violence you inflicted upon it. Liv liked to say that it was as stubborn as you, but even her gentility couldn’t ease your latest black mood. It was hard to sit still while your comrades fought and bled; hard to watch progress find Constructs in leaps and bounds while it found you in stumbling steps. There was no doubt that you were recovering, but it was slow. Every day a step farther. Every night a little easier. Now, more than ever, you were reminded of your mortal fragility. A brave heart did not equate to a strong mind. And a strong mind did not mean a strong body. 

It’s bad, Asimov had said. A wheelchair for now and well, maybe forever. You’ll have some time. Use it to come to terms.

Somehow, perhaps through sheer stubbornness, you’d managed to avoid that dire fate. You would walk again and one day return to the maws of the Punishing. To be crunched up and spat out again? Such dark thoughts permeated your mind often. You couldn’t help it. You were as much a soldier as anyone, but these last weeks had reminded you of just how hard it was. The hurt and aches, the tears and fractures that had never been given the chance to heal. And in the dead of night, away from prying eyes, the terrible, consuming pain. It was hard to forget the wreck of your body in the aftermath: the limp dangle of your legs in Lee’s arms, the blood that poured out of you like a swollen river, bones and flesh unmade into fragments of dust and meat.

But harder still was watching your Ravens grounded and flightless, as trapped on Babylonia as you. Harder still was noting the prolonged absence of Strike Hawk and the rising tensions between Vera and Lee. Every sympathetic eye in the hallways made you sick. 

That was what had driven you to explore Babylonia. For all that it wasn’t earth, it was something. A home for some, even if it would never be for you. Sighing, you swiped away the holographic puzzle you’d been working on. These wheels aren’t going to turn themselves…

“Maybe I can threaten Asimov again,” you muttered under your breath, hands already reaching for the spokes of your wheels. “Maybe if I commit to being a nuisance…”

“If that’s your plan, you’ll have to do better than pouting over puzzles.”

Lee stepped around the corner, pristine in his palette of black and blue. Your breath caught. He was vivid against the stark corridors, a bold stroke in the emptiness, so painfully beautiful that it hurt not to stare. Every line of him was sharp and calculated, placed just so by an artist’s loving hand. But there was no talent in the world that could capture the pale fire of his eyes. Those haunting, expressive eyes that bared his soul when words could not. 

A blond brow arched. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you muttered grumpily, feeling your mood lift despite yourself. “Go away. I’m contemplating going legless.”

“Then you’d better get to it. Once Asimov hears, you’ll lose more than just your legs.”

You shot him an unholy glare. “Are you here for a reason?”

“Yes,” Lee said, apparently content to leave it at that. He studied your furrowed brow and the purple shadows beneath your eyes. “Have you been sleeping?”

“No. I do nothing but sit around all day. It’s terribly restful.”

“I think that’s the point.”

“No need to rub it in.”

He sighed, “Only you would miss going to war. No wonder Vera likes you.”

“She likes me the way a cat likes a rat,” you countered. “I’m only interesting until she gets hungry. Or bored.” Lee was silent, but you could hear his reproach all the same. “What? Cynicism is healthy, you know.”

“And when did you become a pessimist, Commandant?”

“Since I started throwing a tantrum,” you said primly, meeting his unflinching gaze with solemnity. As you’d hoped, Lee’s lips quirked. It was only the slightest twitch, hardly more than a trick of the light, but your heart fluttered all the same. He was perfect as a Construct, the very pinnacle of human beauty, but when he smiled — when his cheeks dimpled on the left — you could see beyond that inhuman magnificence to the soul beneath: Morian. The boy you’d never truly known, but somehow always had. 

Buoyed by your success, you added, “Though I prefer the term venting.”

Lee was unconvinced. “You mean being unreasonable?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

A soft exhale stirred the air above your head. You imagined the phantom brush of it against your skin. “You’re impossible,” Lee said, moving behind you to grab the handles of your wheelchair. “Watch your hands.” 

Without another word, he slid you forward, gliding through halls of recreational rooms. You craned your neck to peer into one. Swaths of blue light danced on the walls, pierced irregularly by spears of gold and white. Somewhere in the distance, close enough to be a dream, rumbled the soft, lonely call of whale song. 

Aching, you looked away. Babylonia may pretend at heaven, but there was some things that could never be captured. The thunder of waves breaking against your feet. The tug of wind against the anchors of your being. And the clouds, tender and bruised in a sky that stretched forever.

Still, you’d seen more in the past month than you had in all your years of service. Human kindnesses and human virtues; small hopes and big dreams. Love, that singular bastion of hope at the end of the world, gathered so strongly in a single place that you could feel it in the air. Against all odds, humanity had taken this empty husk and given it a soul, one filled with the very best of man. Was it the body or the soul that made a home? Every day you spent here had watered the seeds of doubt: that life could go on, and neither humans nor the Earth truly needed each other. So then what were you fighting for?

Perhaps, you thought as Lee wheeled you around an unfamiliar corner, it’s time to let go.

A frosted glass door appeared before you. Beyond lay a blurry landscape of greens and browns, like those abstract paintings Ayla had once shown you. Babylonia had gardens of course, but they were mostly fake — structures of steel and plastic that imitated life. Waging war left little time for tending plants. It was sensible, economical even, but part of you had always mourned the loss. 

But now... Your breaths were short as Lee swiped his access card.

The red eye blinked blue.

Bright notes of birdsong greeted you, carried on the wings of a warm summer wind. Jasmine and lavender perfumed the air. Above you was the percussive rustle of leaves, thin branches dancing in their places; beneath, vibrant and alive, was a verdant green sea, stretching as far as the eye could see. Pathways meandered into the sunscape like great snakes, arching gracefully through copses of bushes laden with berries like glistening jewels. Trees towered overhead. You recognised the statuesque trunks of oaks and redwood, but also the elegant silhouettes of aspens and birch, and far in the distance, the bowed boughs of weeping willow. “This is…”

Lee wheeled you forward. The door clicked shut, locking you in, away from the aseptic and cold, away from the hungry maw of space into a remembered world. He was quiet as gravel crunched underfoot. For a while, there was only the sound of wonder. Your silent breaths and roaming eyes. The thundering beat of your heart and the awakening song in your soul. Then came the comfort of companionship. His staccato steps and your legato tread. The murmur of young leaves. Birds, singing unseen in notes that dipped and weaved.

You basked in the sensations. Never had you experienced anything like this. Not even on Earth — a tranquility so complete it seemed a dream. Gravel gave way to the hush of soil. Somewhere in the distance, you heard the gurgle of water, falling and falling, splashing into a pool that would not dry. Sunlight kissed your skin and you were surprised at the sting. Ultraviolet light, you realised with a jolt. How much energy does that cost?

“What is this?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to find Lee looking at you. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Is this… is this real?”

For a moment, he said nothing, his lambent gaze full of feelings you couldn’t follow. You watched him as you always did. You had always been able to parse him, to lean on a connection you shared not even with Liv or Lucia, but he had retreated from you. What was it about this garden that pained him so?

“Lee?”

You reached out, fingers soft against his mechanical palm. Though he didn’t look at you, his fingers found their way into the gaps between your own. Hands braided, threaded together as if it was always meant to be. He had never touched you so intimately before, but it didn’t feel strange.

“It’s real,” he said at last, blue eyes fixed on the spread of green before you. “All of this is real. In a few months, it’ll finally be ready.”

You gave his hand a squeeze. “Ready for what?”

His eyes cleared like the sky after rain. In them, you recognised what you’d always known: love. So much love carried by those tired blue eyes. Wherever he had gone, Lee had come back, and he’d come bearing a hidden part of his soul, ready to be shared with you at last. “For humans,” he said. “For the children who have never known this.” He gestured around, encompassing the world with a wave of his hand. “This will remind them. Connect them with their history. They should feel things, while they still can.”

His hands closed around yours. The tips of his fingers dug into your skin, but you didn’t move. His pain was your own; you would bear it with pride.

“How long has this been happening?” you asked. “How long... I mean, how did you even grow these trees?”

“I brought seeds from Earth. Whenever we were sent on a mission, I’d retrieve some. It took years, and it was started way before me, but Hassan wanted—”

“Yeah,” you said gently, turning from him to face the garden once more. “Something for us to leave behind.”

Lee said nothing, but you could feel his conviction in the press of his palm against yours. “I believe in us. In you. One day the war will end. When that time comes, a decade or a thousand years from now, I want people to remember that there was more. That living once meant tranquility and beauty, not just blood. Not just violence.”

You nodded. His words struck a chord within you, his ideas a skeletal echo of your own secret thoughts. Alone in the dark, you had wondered of your legacy. When the fight was won and fabled peace found at last, what would the people think? Would you be a hero who reclaimed the Earth or a villain who had destroyed the very thing it sought to possess? 

“Not just violence,” you echoed. Sometimes it feels like that’s all we are.

Lee knelt by your side. His eyes met your own. “Commandant, I—” 

Something wet plinked against your forehead. You glanced up. The light receded with alarming speed, leaving a trail of pregnant clouds in its wake. Wind whipped through the branches, threatening to rip the very leaves from their homes. Birds scattered to unseen havens. Within moments, the garden was a roiling landscape of adverse weather. Rain poured down in an endless torrent, stirred by vicious gales to tempestuous rage. 

“What’s happening?” You had to yell to be heard above the howling storm. Lee had risen and was moving for the handles of your wheelchair.

“It’s the weather program!” he explained. “It’s supposed to emulate real-world meteorological conditions. Probably needs a little work!” 

You laughed, a full-bellied thing—the first in a long, long time. “You think?”

“I told them to keep it on spring. This… isn’t quite what I had in mind.” Your wheels churned in the soil that had become mud. Lee grunted behind you, but the chair stubbornly refused to move. With a huff of frustration, he gave up and circled around to face you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Leaning in, he dipped one arm beneath your legs and wrapped the other around your back. Your cheeks warmed despite the lashing wind. “Wait, what—”

“Hold on, Commandant.” His breath was warm, his lips so close that they brushed against the shell of your ear. Lee lifted you from the chair like a treasure. You could feel the steady beat of his heart as he cradled you against his chest. Somehow, your arms had found their way around his neck. Water plastered his hair to his forehead and dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t let go. His eyes, when they met yours, were as clear as a summer sky. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I will be,” he said grumpily. “Once we get out of this tempest.”

You chuckled; something about his aggrieved tone was just so Lee that you couldn’t help it. “I like this!” you said above the storm. The rising wind and rain, the biting cold against the warm press of Lee, the hint of him in every blade of grass and velvet petal—you loved all of it. This place was a wild heart in the carefully planned rhythm of Babylonia. A sliver of the Earth captured in a truer way than you had ever known possible. “I love this!”

You whooped like a child, laughing as you opened your mouth to the taste of fresh water on your tongue. Your joy was infectious and soon Lee was laughing too, his soft giggles calling to more of your own. With water sluicing down your faces, with wind-chilled skin and soft-centred hearts, Lee carried you across the mud and slick, his steps confident and sure. You held on as tightly as you could, your fingers making divots into the smooth skin of his neck, his arms. There was a feeling between you with no name. An understanding so deep that it needed no voice. 

You gazed out at the wonder before you. It truly was a miracle. Real trees and real grass. Real flowers that would wither and die and live again. Life and hope, you thought as the doors hissed open. A moment of peace.

They slid shut, sealing the wild beauty of the garden from you once more. You could still feel the rain slicking your skin, running down your face to pool like crystals on the pristine ground.  You looked up at Lee with liquid eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked breathlessly. “Why did you labour alone?”

“Because,” he said. “It’s a gift.”

A gift. But you knew Lee, knew him like you knew your own soul, and you heard all the things he did not say. It was a gift, but it was also a dream. A promise, and a hope. It was all the things that existed in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, unseen and unheard, but known all the same.

And shared, sometimes, in the tender feelings between two soldiers wondering, and silently wishing for more.

“Come on,” Lee said after a moment. “You’ll catch a cold. I’ll come back for the chair later.”

You smiled as his footsteps rang out in the empty corridor. Swaying in his arms with the smell of petrichor still in your veins, you felt something ignite in your chest. It was small and fragile, easily buried amid the chaos of war, but you knew where to find it again. Tucked away behind a frosted glass door, there was a piece of Lee that would always be ready to remind you of what you were fighting for.

Not just violence.

For life. And for hope.

—

“Thanks for that. I owe you one.”

Murray watched happily as Morian cradled his Commandant close. He’d asked the technician to cut the audio, but there was no mistaking the depth of feeling between them. His brother was far too awkward for any declarations of love, but he hoped he’d at least given him a chance, an opportunity to express those feelings he so obviously harboured for his leader. Knowing Morian though, he’d probably squandered it, but well, a man could dream. 

The tech shot Murray a disgruntled glare. “Anything else? I have better things to do than meddle in Construct affairs.”

He sighed in mock sympathy. “More’s the pity. I love meddling in people’s lives.”

“This is why nobody likes you, Murray. Lee’s going to scold me enough as it is.” 

“I had enough of that as a kid. I’ve done my time.” With a casual wave of his hand, he left the scowling technician to his muttered insults and his bribe. Murray walked down the corridors feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Morian—Lee now—had sacrificed his life for Murray. Though he couldn’t quite do the same, he wasn’t helpless. He wasn’t the weak, younger brother that needed protecting anymore. 

It’s my turn now, brother. I may not be able to return your heart, but I hope I can give it back to you all the same.

[glassessence]

Hey,are you still active on wtiting ? I really hope you are fine wherever you are . Take care !

Hello, anon! Firstly, thank you for your ask and your patience. It's very nice of you to check in. I was initially taking time off of writing to focus on my exams, but an absolute avalanche of personal issues have plagued my life since November of last year, leading to me having to take a substantial chunk of time off that was both unexpected and deeply distressing. A lot of the troubles I've been dealing with have been health-related, forcing me away from creative endeavours. Things are finally starting to settle now, so I'll be getting back to writing ASAP! I'm so sorry for the wait and for not updating everyone, but it's actually been quite a difficult few months for me. I hope you can both understand and forgive!

[glassessence]

If this isn’t one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen... 

Kofi for @nymphlings ! Dimitri and Byleth from FE3H- Dimitri as a gargoyle, and Byleth dressed as a flapper!

[glassessence]

i just thought it was interesting

[glassessence]

Hnnngh, my babies are so beautiful. 

Psycho-Pass in Concert 2020

[glassessence]

Source:  @Pandea_work 1-3 4

I finally found his character artist on twitter so uhhh… Of course I’m gonna share

[glassessence]

★ 【MKT】 「 skadi / exusiai / gladiia / surtr 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on instagram

[glassessence]

This is lovely. Thank you for the hard work! ^^

Hello 🙂

Here is a translation of the very short (as in 2-pages-only short) extra chapter from PP3 manga vol.4, where the SAD trio is informed of an upcoming meeting with the PSB.

I’ll still place it under a cut just to be uniform with my previous posts 😅. Any mistakes you see are mine. I hope you enjoy ☺️

Keep reading

[glassessence]

Howl and Sophie <3

Timelapse video and lineart download will be available on patreon!

★ patreon || website || twitter ★

[glassessence]

I’m actually quite shy and insecure when it comes to my writing. I’ve been having a bit of a rough time lately and I haven’t been very satisfied with anything I’ve put out recently, so this sounds like a nice pick-me-up. Also serves as really good motivation for me to look back on when I’m feeling low ^^”

If anyone wants to drop me an ask, I would be over the moon! 

For Writers:

Reblog if it’s okay for your followers to leave you an ask telling you what the one thing is they remember you for as a writer.  Is it a scene or a detail or a specific line? Is it something like style or characterization?  Is it that one weird kink they never thought they’d be into, but oh my god wow self-discovery time?

[glassessence]

chu

[glassessence]

leon

[glassessence]

Shadow cats. They look like cats, until you don't look closer ✨

I started Inktober, but wouldn't draw every day - I don't have so much energy for this ^^

[glassessence]

Yahoo!

I just wanna ask where are you gonna upload your CEO Lee x Secretary Reader Modern AU Soulmates. Is it gonna be here, or in your other blog?

More power! 🤗

Hello~! Currently, the plan is to publish my original ideas here and leave projectfiction purely for requests. So you’ll find the soulmate AUs on this blog (glassessence). You can also find them here on AO3, if that’s easier :) 

I might move everything to my side blog at a later date, but I’ll definitely make it known if I do ^^ Thanks for the ask! 

[glassessence]

Shameless reblog because I realised that I accidentally didn’t allow anonymous submissions for a while. Whoops. 

It’s allowed now, so if that stopped you before, worry no more! ^^

Requests: OPEN

Hello! I’ve never done this before and I’m nervous as all heck and I have no idea if anyone will even be interested, BUT. I am here to announce that I’ll be taking requests for ficlets, oneshots, and headcanons! ^^

The fandoms I’m currently writing for are:

👑 Arknights   |   👑 FE:3H   |   👑 Fate/Grand Order   |   👑 PGR

Here are some samples of my writing so you can decide if it’s for you:

PGR //   Lee ficlet | Soulmate AU Watanabe | Soulmate AU Kamui 

FE3H //   Sylvix | Ficlets

I’ll be doing this on my new side-blog to keep things organised: @projectfiction​. Please have a read over the rules before you ask!

That’s all for now. Reblogs to spread the word are deeply, deeply appreciated! ❤️ Hopefully the ask box doesn’t stay empty 🙈

[glassessence]

Hello hello hello! It's me, Kamui simp— enjoyer hehe

Can I request for a ficlet (or whichever your comfy with) about Kamui?

What if... Kamui feels insecure about his self? Like... We all know Kamui is NOT the original personality, Camu is. What if he starts questioning, "Am I good enough? Am I even real?" Like an identity crisis of sorts. And then he develops an inferiority complex towards Camu, Lee or Watanabe, or anyone.

I'd like to see how this would go 👉👈

Waah, my first request ever! 😭 *desperately tries to breathe* Thank you for the ask! Kamui is a precious bean, but Imma put him through pain for you haha.

Kamui hides a lot of stuff, but feels very deeply. His insecurities would probably drive him to try to fix himself. Of course, in this case, he can't. I wanted to explore the frustration, anger, and loneliness in that sort of helplessness, which is ultimately what inspired this. It's a more introspective piece (and slightly tangent to your actual ask), but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

The Space Between Stars   //   KAMUI

Kamui punched the bag again, letting the motion dissipate the anger inside him. There was no real purpose to the activity. He wasn’t a human, after all. He didn’t need to work out. His body was an engine that wouldn’t expire; his muscles would never atrophy. This whole thing was an exercise in futility, but one that he found himself doing with increasing frequency. Every night, he found himself back here. Always the same hopeless conversation with his fists. Always the same burn in his knuckles, and the fiercer burn in his heart. It was easier to do this than to find answers to the questions that haunted him in the dark.

Because the truth was that he didn’t know who he was anymore. Everything about him felt paper-thin, like he could be washed away by the rain. Just ink running into the sea, a temporary stain upon the world that would soon be forgotten. He gave the bag a vicious uppercut. He didn’t want to be forgotten. He didn’t want to be temporary.

He wanted to be real. As real as Camu, with all the terrible things that shaped the human experience. But that was an impossible dream. Because no matter how advanced he was, no matter how convincing, he was a lie. A miraculous, transcendent lie that that walked and talked and loved, but still just a pale imitation in the end. Lines of code trying to emulate a life. A meaningless collection of ones and zeroes. That’s all he was.

He lacked a human consciousness, a treasure more precious than gold. Without it, all he had were his mechanical body and chemical heart. How could he call himself real when every part of him had been assembled? Were these thoughts even his own?

“Dammit,” he grunted. His foot connected with the cylinder. It went flying, swaying drunkenly. Metal chains rattled their displeasure. Kamui reached out to steady it with a hand, feeling the tremors travel through his fingers. He imagined them careening through his body, through his twisted wires pretending to be human. Imagined them nesting in his metallic core, trembling ever on, pulsing like a stolen heart. “Dammit.” He leaned heavily against the wall. “Captain. Commandant. How do I deal with this?”

Sweet, cursed silence. Of course. Kamui laughed - a choked, broken sound. The image of you with the Gray Ravens came unbidden to his mind. He saw the way you laughed with them, your eyes alight with joy. The way they seemed to bring out the best in you when he never could. Was it because they possessed something he didn’t? Jealousy flushed through him, gone as quickly as it had come. His shoulders slumped. “I never could compare, huh,” he said softly. “I don’t understand a lot of things, but it seems like this is one thing I do get.”

Sighing, Kamui peeled himself from the wall. His temperature regulation system was kicking in, raising goosebumps across his exposed chest as if in mockery. He shrugged into a shirt and tugged his gloves off. His bare feet were soft against the cold floor. He padded back to his room in the dark, unable to strip his mind of its worries. His anger was long gone, burned to dust, leaving behind only the taste of ash and a deep loneliness that swallowed the world. All this time he’d thought he was trying to catch up to Lee and Watanabe, but he wasn’t even running the same race. He’d never felt more helpless in his life. Even when Koya had died, there had been a choice. A chance. A sliver of hope that had slipped like sand through his open fingers.

Even then, Kamui had chosen to fight, to reach into the abyss in search of the light. He didn’t know how else to exist. But this wasn’t something he could fight. There was no possibility and no hope, only an ugly truth like a dead-end that caged him in. He stepped into the shower, wishing he could wash away the doubts in his mind as easily as the sweat on his body. But the thoughts clung to him, dark and insidious, infecting him like poisoned blood. “Stop,” he whispered to the emptiness. “Stop haunting me like this.”

But there was only the sound of water on skin, and the endless dark.

[glassessence]

OH MY GOD AN ACTIVE FATE BLOG TAKING REQUESTS??? AM I DREAMING

Definitely not dreaming! Though I've never really written for Fate before, so please go easy on me! ^^"