Hello! You may call us (creative)cornea It's basically what it says on the tin, I write x reader for projectmoon and take requests, We’ll try our best to get requests done as fast as possible but uh… ok here's the rules now.
What I’m A-Okay writing!
Canon typical violence and gore
All cantos in limbus company (excluding twinning threads, havent finished that yet)
Headcanons
Character x Character
Request us this DESPITE knowing we’re not comfortable with writing this and I’ll have to put you into a timeloop.
Smut or anything suggestive
Incest
Minor x Adult
Other fandoms,
anyways feel free send an ask if there’s anything you want clarified !
Tag list!
#CanonCornea for headcanons
#CreativeCorneais…CREATIVE!? for unrequested writing
#cottoncandycornea for writings thats mainly fluff
#crudecornea for writing thats angsty or something of the sort
Curses left Hong Lu’s lips as he fumbled with his pockets, searching for boluses that he threw away a long while ago in vain.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he threatened. “Don’t you dare close your eyes right now.”
The mission wasn’t supposed to go this wasn’t supposed to end this way, no. It was supposed to be simple, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that either of you couldn’t handle. You’d kill the bloodfiends, torture the big bad one that was responsible for turning people into their kindred and bloodbags, then come back home.
Things weren’t supposed to go this way.
He muttered your name before cursing again, gritting his teeth like he was the one in a lot of pain from a stab wound and not you.
One moment the two of you were fighting like usual and the next, he saw one of the bloodbags get a good swing in; its sharps digging into your flesh and left behind an injury far too severe to be ignored. Hong Lu didn’t remember what exactly happened afterwards, his memory was fuzzy and the last thing he saw that wasn’t you was the shouts of the bloodfiend he was hunting and the sound of footsteps growing more and more distant.
Things weren’t supposed to go like this. Things weren’t supposed to go like this. Things weren’t supposed to go like this.
Nothing he did seemed to make things right and he cursed himself over and over again for foolishly throwing away the one thing that would’ve helped in this situation. And all because of what? In a vain attempt to cut off his family when he was destined to return to them eventually anyway? What a joke.
He pulled back slightly, the reality of the situation weighing down on him as he took in the sight of you cradled against his chest: Blood spilled from your lips, one hand rested loosely over the gaping wound on your stomach, the light in your eyes fading ever so slowly…
The only thing he could do now was to rush you back to the office and use the medical supplies there. Supplies that he should’ve brought along with every mission instead of getting cocky. Supplies that he’d start bringing with him if you managed to make it.
“Stay with me,” his voice came out as a mere whisper as he stood up with you in his arms.
He doubted you would.
<- Back to the masterlist?
tag list: @rosaberrii, @yuri678, @existence-is-a-pain87, @successfulthinkgirl, @rainachain, @ao3master2000, @keiiqq, @dem1sedscholar
questionnnn since I see a lot of people having anxiety about making their own writing blog for one reason or another
would anyone want me to make a post with my writing tips/advice and my experience with it + as well as the experiences of my writer oomfs?
I know writing can be especially scary when you're first starting out but it's really not I prommy. Besides, I think it's worth it to encourage people to write in an era when ai slop is everywhere and corporations are trying to take the fun out of creativity
I want to smooch Kim ji-hoon for releasing the new intervollo and nocturnal sweeping bokgak because I’ve sudden turned into The Writer ™
Idk if anyone remembers if they sent me a request or not but if you’ve been pretending to be Rapunzel waiting for her prince to write her fanfiction request from the start of this year then your in luck because I’ve decided to resurrect myself from the very depths of a lobotomy corp branch.
“Hold still,” Albina lightly chided you; hand leaving the buttons that she was fumbling with so that she can nudge your face back into position before resuming what she was doing before.
With the vest fully buttoned, she pulled away and looked at the mirror in front of you and her. She hummed thoughtfully as she took in your appearance. Her expression gave nothing away, but the slight furrow of her brows was enough to tell you that she wasn’t satisfied with the results. Too formal, maybe.
Refusing to hear a single opinion from you, she began to undo her work.
It was strange, in a way. Had it been anyone else that was stripping your clothes to dress you up in something else, you would’ve sat uncomfortably at best or pushed them away at worst. Yet with Albina, it was different. Somehow. It was hard to say if it was because of your closeness — which… was debatable, considering that your first meeting with her was her kidnapping you — or if it was because Albina didn’t care for the human body the same way that other people did.
After a short while, she had changed you into something with a lot of frills. She must’ve not liked the formal look if she was adding frills. Though judging by that look on her face — indifferent, yet with the same slightly furrowed eyebrows as before — she didn’t seem too pleased with this either.
“Nothing looks right,” she said. If she wasn’t stuck with a face that struggled to mimic expressions, you were sure she would be pouting right about now.
“You’ve only tried three outfits so far.”
“And none of them look right.”
You wanted to be positive and cheer her up, but her taste in fashion was… well… to put it in the nicest way you could, Callisto had terrible taste both in art and other matters and it undoubtedly influenced Albina’s self expression. The clothes she had lying around were few and far between and that was ignoring the fact that most of them didn’t fit you. It was a miracle that she could find anything that went well together to put on you in the first place.
Maybe — no, probably — that was why nothing felt right to her. So the first suggestion that came to your mind was, “Have you tried sewing something yourself and putting that on me?”
She perked up immediately. “Like sinews?”
“No, like string—”
“Alright,” she nodded to herself, interrupting you before you could fix your mistake. “I’ll go get materials. You sit tight right here,” was the last thing she said to you before leaving you alone in her room.
Oh dear… you sure hoped that she would get the material she already had instead of killing new people for it.
I don't mind if people write some yanderes as being mentally ill but it pisses me off to no end when they act like yanderes are inherently mentally ill which is just ableist bullshit. If you think the only way to do horrible stuff is through being fucked up in the head, then you are ableist and need to think about why you immediately associate a trope known for being violent and obsessive with a group of people that's more likely to be victims of violence. And a group who's been hurt by others and usually since childhood at that.
Like, at their core, yanderes are characters who feel entitled to another person's love and body. You don't need to be mentally ill to be entitled to someone's body, hell most people who are unable to take "no" as an answer fall into this trope and most of those people aren't even mentally ill. I'm oversimplifying things a bit here but my point is that the average person is completely capable of doing bad things and hurting others and I hate that it's mentally ill people who get flack for it.
Also saying "yanderes are mentally ill" and the mental illness in question being vague is also ableism. Stop referring to anything that's evil as mentally ill and using therapy speak to describe bad people doing bad things.
Quick reminder that I see all your requests and asks in the inbox and intend to write every request that has been given to me. The reason it's taking me a while to get to them is because I am lazy
The death of his beloved little sister shatters Hong Lu's heart into a million pieces as well as causing destiny to go off the rails; changing the world in a way that no one could've expected yet in a manner that went unnoticed.
Unable to see him so passive and unresponsive for a second longer, you take it upon yourself to find a way to help him out of the state that he's in and let him start expressing his emotions again.
Click here to return to the Hong Lu masterlist.
₊✦ ‧₊˚ - — ✿❀✿ — - ˚₊‧ ✦₊
❀ Fic Notes:
₊✦ The pairing is Hong Lu x Gn!Reader with Hong Lu's various IDs & EGOs also showing affection towards reader.
₊✦ This fanfic will contain: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, (mutual) pining, friends to lovers, canon divergence, with many more potential tags that will be added in the future.
₊✦ There will be no use of (y/n) or any of its variations in this work.
₊✦ If there are any headcanons or one-shot ideas you want to see for this fanfic, feel free to request them when you see that my requests are open.
₊✦ Lastly, this fanfic is available on AO3 to read if that's the platform you prefer.
— ✿❀✿ —
❀ Chapters:
╰┈➤ Chapter 1 - A Solution (3,265 words)
In your search to find out what could be the reason for Hongyuan standing tall despite the powerful foes waiting outside its walls, you find a valuable clue that can help Hong Lu get better.
╰┈➤ W.I.P.
yi sang.. i need yi sang content... headcanons (x reader) is fine but it'd be funny if you something with a gn!sinner reader who has hypersomnia it'd be so fun please don't turn into a pick up truck
- azathoth anon
『yi sang x gn!sinner reader w/ hypersomnia』
A/n; argggg I think I went through a writers block so apologies for this being so short and taking so long, I’m gonna write Yi Sang general hcs to make up for this being so short . . . Hopefully you enjoy this azathoth anon!! (*'▽'*)
Yi sang tries his best to accommodate you like asking questions, but not constantly-To avoid bothering you about it,
if you have meds for it, he’d use his notebook to note whether if you took it or not, then remind you to.
Yi sang doesn't want to view your suffering at an angle as he did with the old league of nine, he wants to embrace you as you are and do all he can to alleviate even the smallest inconvenience to you, He'd see your sleeping form, your head perched on his shoulder, or maybe his lap. The ceaseless sound of the pen writing on the notebook quiets, It'd feel like a bubble just formed around the two of you- Just the two of you. He nudges you gently, an attempt at waking you up.
if reqs are still open is it okay if i request for nursefather yi sang angst where he laments not being able to do anything to save his beloved (cuz of the prescripts thingy) take ur time on rhis btw no need to rush i can wait 200 years for rhis
A/n; I had far too much fun torturing this man, that is all.
Musty air, Gray room.
( Rien!Yisang x reader )
His dress shoes clacked on the tiles below him, Yi sang gazed at the plates loaded within the dishwasher,
Beep
The matching black plates are promptly picked, before sat down on the dinner- one on each side.
Then, as ordered, utensils are put by the plates neatly, perfectly.
Beep
His eyes scan over the prescript, before he handles the steaming pot filled with pasta; he tips the spatula over, adding a decent amount to the other plate.
He glances over to his empty one, it'd stay that way, for the remainder of the day.
The door clicks, the sounds of chain rattling and footsteps accompany it, blonde hair, orange eyes, it peeks out from the door.
The prescript device buzzes, he recites the greeting it gifts him;
"Welcome home. I could only pray the homework bestowed upon us outcasts for today was nothing short of simple."
"Y-Yes, as exactly as the ma- the magick beeper commanded!"
Yi sang gestures for her to enter the corridor further, pointing her towards the table- He sits at the dinner table, placing his fork and knife at the plate, putting the fork in his mouth, mimicking a bite,
"Mm, Master, is- is that the c-command of the Great Magicked beeper?"
The apprentice questions as she watches the rhythmic motions,
He nods, as usual.
She shuffles over to her seat, bringing up her hands to lift her fork- it was often that the apprentice had to awkwardly rotate and tilt her hands in order to adapt to the heavy chains on her wrists.
Of course, some would just resolve to take the chains off, but the all knowing Hermes commanded the chains to be there, who were we to deny that?
The both of them continued to eat, or, well, only Quixote was.
As… As ordered.
Eventually a beep was faintly heard from the inside of his jacket, he lifts it out, the small sleek plastic beeper was held- the cyan glow of the letters was etched and scrambled, his eyes scan over it, eventually- the meaning of it was parsed and sifted.
…
"Grab the knife next to your right hand and stab your daug———"
———————————————————————————————————
The raindrops pattered on the umbrella above, the one he clutched in his callused hand.
The sideway beneath him, the color of it deepened in quick reply to the rain's never ending poking at it.
His eyes glazed over your body laying over a pool, one of crimson, was it your body?
It was far mangled, so much so to where your name would've been Jane doe, a nobody.
A familiar sensation of buzzing is heard within his coat pocket, as he had done so many times, and as he will many times once again, he procures it from his pocket, deciphering the meaning, and then following as it is.
You must've thought his nature was "tainted" the day he joined the index, but that rot, it spans all the way from when the walls of the world he lived in was a pure white.
When his only companion was but a reflection, never to reach out, nevermore changed with the slightest crack.
Those sunrises and sunsets were the ones where he simply let all that was be- Change was undefinitive and staticity was common, only thing that changed was the person of whom commands he carries.
Therein lie your mistake; your belief that the static gaze he holds could be altered, your belief was buried the day your heart was stopped, the same couldn't be said about you.
Perhaps that's what made the two of you slot together so perfectly, you both shared an unmovable inertia, Perhaps, that's why…
—
“The empty husk of a man returns to his home, covered in the blood of strangers.”
The couch below him was anything but one, it felt like it scraped against his skin each time he shifted, such furniture as couches and beds are supposed to be places of haven, respite, solace, certainty never the sources of guilt, certainty never to possess chains to tie you down and to slowly but surely fill him with shame.
The objects in question didn't fulfill their purpose.
His gaze meanders over towards the bags of garbage lying and scattered about the room, the choice for them to be there, it was the order of the…
Oh, you expect this by now don't you? Every breath, every blink, every beat of the heart, is never the property of his volition, only the prescripts, only Hermes.
The city includes all of its children in its will, a truth the index illuminates to all, but perhaps, for once he'd like to grow, for once he'd like to don the title of adult he deserves, to be excluded out of its care. Maybe that says something about him-
Because once a child is born, the care of its parent is etched into it's soul- of course, that only occurs if the parent is any good. Any good.
He closes his eyes; perhaps when he opens them, a new day should begin, a new one.
———————————————————————————————————
Yi sang's eyes reread the prescript once again,
"Grab the knife next to your right hand and grab a peach. Cut it up and feed it to your apprentice."
He gets up, ambling towards the fridge, doing exactly as the prescript asked him to do. The apprentice takes chaste bites, although she seems to take joy in bonding, even if it is all over a prescript.
Yi sang was otherwise, indifferent to it.
How come one could fear losing something they had, but never cherished it in the moment? It was nothing but silly.
would you all like if I made a masterlist of what requests I’ve gotten, just to make sure your request has been seen and hasn’t been deleted somehow? (Since I’m kind of certain I won’t post any for a bit.)
would you all like if I made a masterlist of what requests I’ve gotten, just to make sure your request has been seen and hasn’t been deleted somehow? (Since I’m kind of certain I won’t post any for a bit.)
I am an extremely burnt out office worker who wants something to do on his breaks other than sitting and twiddling his thumbs until he goes back to his desk. I also love Hong Lu.
So, I thought I would offer up reader insert content! This includes both headcanons and little drabbles. What I do depends on my energy level; please do be patient with me!
Rules (I will delete anything that does not follow them without notice):
1. I only do Hong Lu. By default, I do post-C8 Sinner Hong Lu, so if you send in a request with no Hong Lu parameters I will assume this is what you want.
2. My creed is to keep him as in character as possible. If you ask for one of the colder Hong Lu IDs or a pre-C8 Hong Lu, he will be true to how he is/was.
3. I don't do yandere stuff right now. I may warm up to it later as time heals me, but it's currently an ick of mine for very personal reasons.
4. Since this is a ploy to keep me occupied on my work break and I also don't have the time to make sure minors are not following this blog, there will be NO NSFW REQUESTS. You can ask for something a little spicy but full on NSFW is a no go. Sorry! Maybe I'll make an alt later or something idk
