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Download Drama Korea Remarriage & Desires Subtitle Indonesia
Download Drama Korea Remarriage & Desires Subtitle Indonesia
Download Drama Korea Remarriage & Desires Subtitle Indonesia
DetailDrama: #RemarriageAndDesires (English title) / The Bride of Black (literal title)Revised romanization: Beulraekeui ShinbuHangul: #블랙의신부Director: Kim Jung-MinWriter: Lee Geun-YoungNetwork: NetflixEpisodes:Release Date: July 15, 2022Runtime:Language: KoreanCountry: South Korea
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Birds of Feather
Hello dears. I’m clearing out my WIPs, deleting ones I’ll not work on further. So here, you can have a small scene.
Rating: T, I guess? Just talking about grief of the loss of a relationship. Implied/past Ivar/Keldar, and Arnaghad/Erland.
The knock was a soft beat that made Keldar smile even with the minor interruption. No one would mind an inkblot - there were far worse staining ledgers and journals alike.
The quill was set down carefully as they beckoned their old friend to enter.
"Letters." Erland waved a small bundle before passing them over. The years had worn heavy on his shoulders, and he walked with a stiffness in his left leg on the coldest days.
Keldar smiled their thanks and flipped through, there were missives that were expected, a new letter from Vesemir, and a few interesting and unknown senders.
"When was the last time you heard from him?"
"Don't meddle, Erland."
"I'd see you happy if I could, Keldar. Loneliness is hard enough a load to bear, if you can avoid it..."
They just sighed and sat back, stretching in their chair. It was an old argument, with Erland pushing gently, and Keldar pointing out the obvious.
"What would you have me do, Erland? My life is with this Library, and the knowledge our successors need to survive. I'll not chase ghosts to my end. And really? You're a fine one to talk. When was the last you reached out?"
Erland's face darkened as he turned away. "It's not the same."
"Is it though? You're both stubborn- wanting and waiting and not reaching out." Keldar watched the conflict on Erland's face with sympathy, knowing the question he wanted to ask and couldn't. "Yes, we've spoken. He asks of you. Every letter, he's asked of you. Damn your pride and go."
"He truly hasn't said a word?"
Keldar shook their head, quietly. "I don't think he has realized how much time has passed- he watches, only watches for those riders. I cannot follow that obsession, Erland. He goes where I cannot follow. I have nothing to offer him, he has come and stripped the library of all it could offer him. He has no reason to return."
Erland took a breath- and Keldar waited, waited for the apology that happened every iteration of this discussion. But this time, Erland strode forward quietly, solemnly, and placed a heavy hand on Keldar's shoulder. He squeezed gently, and Keldar patted it, sighing softly at the wrinkles and age spots on them both that whispered of time passing far too quickly.
"I won't ask again, old friend."
"Thank you.”
#ivar#keldar#erland#arnaghad#minwrites#not going to finish this#so you may as well get to see it#thanks Jay for the title <3
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Ineffable husbands post apocalyptic gift giving
Prompt me! | Read it on AO3 – Chapter 31/31
Notes for this fill: female presenting!Crowley, and proper pronouns as such. @bearfeathers and I keep talking about how much we like it and just…gosh.
—-
Crowley studied her reflection in the mirror. She’d alwaysbeen angular, it was just her choosing to appear such—whip-thin and hungry, apredator—and now was no exception. She smoothed the lipstick onto her lips,the color a wine-dark almost purple and matte, perfect for drawing the eye asshe spoke. It plumped her lips, bringing the whole ensemble into focus. Redlips, white teeth, just a hint of sharpness, a suggestion of fangs behind the façade—
She really couldn’t help herself, Aziraphale thought,standing in the doorway. She’d always been Original Sin, but he had a feelingshe wasn’t meant to tempt him—at least at first. Now, though, looking at herseated like a boudoir painting at the vanity that had manifested itself in thecorner one day and had never quite left, he was fairly sure this was at leastpartially for him. A sleek black sheath dress hugged Crowley’s frame, the swellof her hips and breasts just a suggestion, long pale legs crossed at the ankleas she studied her makeup.
He wondered if she realized how attractive she was when shewas at rest like this, her hair falling in soft curls to the middle of herback, not yet placed where she wanted it, deep dark red like waves of burgundycrashing against the pale skin of her shoulders, exposed by the open back ofthe dress. He could follow the column of her slender throat with his eyes inthe mirror, tracing it as surely as he would like to do with his hands.
There was a tenderness in his gaze, but also a heat, and hecouldn’t explain how it hadn’t just been awoken since Armageddon had beenthwarted. Well, he could, but he was sure it would sound silly to Crowley tolearn that he’d always liked this side of her, especially that brief glimpse he’dgotten, dark and inviting, wearing the himation and peplos of Greece like it wouldmelt away at a touch. It had been a thought that had perplexed him, at the time.She was fetching, by all means, but he hadn’t been ready to accept that she wasdesirable to him because it was Crowley and not because she was in the processof temptation.
Now, he was willing to look on the time with a sort of ruefulnostalgia. He hadn’t been able to stay and thwart her; he’d been pulled away tobless another portion of the world. Now? Now, he had all the time in the worldto admire Crowley in all her iterations.
It had been almost three years since Armageddon, by hiscount, though the event itself was fading from most minds. It was good, both ofthem had agreed. The less people remembered, the farther away life was gettingfrom that iteration of it, meaning it was less likely to be recalled andactually brought to fruition.
Which reminded him of the wrapped package he held. Theweight of the parcel suddenly felt like a stone from the wall of Eden, thoughhe’d hefted that well enough—but that hadn’t been charged with such Intent. Theangel smoothed his hands down his waistcoat, clearing his throat. Her lambentyellow eyes flickered towards him, her lips quirking in the half-smile that heloved so well.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” she asked, her pinkiesmoothing away a stray swatch of her lipstick.
He glanced down at his usual clothing. “No, no. I wanted togive this to you before I freshened up. I’ll have to…spruce up a bit to looklike I’m remotely in your league, my dear.”
She gave a throaty laugh, one that sent frissons of wantdown his spine as her amusement caused his stomach to flip.
“Help us with this, then?” she asked, pointing at the wavymass of her hair. “I could use a miracle but it seems…cheap.”
“Of course,” Aziraphale said, stepping behind her as he sethis package aside, just for the moment. “How would you like it?”
“Mm,” Crowley hummed, studying herself. “Up, but messy? Likewe’re looking good, but not trying too hard.”
“I’m convinced you never have to try hard,” Aziraphale said,and plunged his hands into the waves of Crowley’s hair. Under the demon’sdirection, he soon had it looking right, with pins in plenty to keep it lookingartfully mussed. A braid circling a messy bun, topped with a gold-and-pearlconcoction of combs that gleamed in her hair like a coronet, it lifted the hairfrom her shoulders and tucked it all away, framing her face. She took over,fussing with little strands of hair at the sides, and Aziraphale let hisfingers linger on the column of her neck, feeling the heat she radiated againsthis fingers.
“What do you think?” she asked at last, seeming satisfied.
“Lovely, though you always are,” he said, watching theapples of her cheeks darken with the praise. It pleased her, no doubt, becauseshe glanced away, her lips curved just the slightest bit upward. It warmed him,his own smile indulgent and satisfied.
“Help me with my zipper?” she asked, tugging at her dress.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to the join of her neckand shoulder, his fingers finding the tiny zipper of the dress and tugging itslowly—
“Angel,” she said, her laughter throaty. “Up.”
He paused, breathing in the scent of her perfume, watchingher neck work as she swallowed. With reluctance, he changed direction with thezipper, watching her shaky exhale.
“Yes,” he said, the word a murmur against her skin. “Ofcourse, I’d forgotten.”
“Did you, now?” she asked, her golden eyes fixed on him ashe finished doing up her dress. Her pupils were dilating, and he took her hand,pressing her knuckles to his lips.
“You make me quite forget I’m a gentleman at times, darling,”he assured her, his brows lifting in the most innocent way. “You have a way ofteasing the bastard out of me.”
“Always,” she breathed, cupping his face. “But we havereservations tonight, and I know you don’t want to miss.”
“Of course.” He swallowed, leaning into the press of herpalm. “I have something for you before we go.”
“For me?” she blinked at him, a rarity, and he nodded,reaching for the wrapped package.
“I thought it fitting,” he said. “We’re nearing the properdate, after all.”
“Ah,” she said, a wrinkle appearing between her brows as shetook it from him. “I didn’t—”
“You don’t have to,” he said. “I just wanted to…mark theoccasion.”
“The last couple of years had seemed…it didn’t feel right. Itwas too soon,” Crowley said softly.
Aziraphale nodded, brushing his fingers against the nape ofher neck, feeling the sudden tension there. “We don’t have to make it aholiday, but I just…”
He lapsed into silence, his gaze far away. Crowley reachedup, her dark red nails, carefully matched to her lipstick, tracing against thehand on her shoulder.
“There should be a marker,” he said. “For when our lives weretruly allowed to begin.”
Her fingers clenched on his, and he turned his hand,squeezing back.
“Then it will be,” she said. “This year, we’ll wing it. Nextyear, we can decide to do something spectacular to mark it.”
He smiled at her in the mirror, watching her gaze linger onhis, her face settled into seriousness.
“As you wish, my dear.” He rubbed his thumb against herknuckles. “Are you going to open what I got you?”
“Yes,” she said, the fingers of her opposite hand resting onthe wrapped box. She retrieved the hand he was holding, with another fondsqueeze, and set to unwrapping the paper. The box’s lid was plain and black,but she tipped it off, setting it to the side as she inhaled deep.
The necklace and earrings were old, though not as old asthey were. Close, however. Late Hellenistic, the heavy braided gold chain wascentered by a deep red garnet cabochon the size of his thumb. The earrings boresimilar cabochons, though they were the size of his thumbnail. Clever in theirdesign, they wrapped around the ear to showcase the gems against the delicateshell of Crowley’s ear.
“They’re beautiful,” she said, her fingers reaching out andcaressing the chain. “Where did you find them?”
“There was a goldsmith I inspired in Kaimeros, in Rhodes,”Aziraphale said. “I told him of a beautiful woman I knew, with flashing whiteteeth and hair the color of the wine we drank. He made many such pieces afterour conversations, but this was the first. He gifted it to me.”
“I didn’t know you spent time in Greece then,” Crowley said.
“Very briefly,” he said. “Just long enough to learn toappreciate you in a himation. It only took a moment. Quite fetching.”
She laughed. “Come on. We’ll be late if you dawdle and I don’tthink a miracle will save our reservation this time.”
Her voice was infinitely, immeasurably fond. He had no ideahow he hadn’t seen it sooner.
“Of course,” he said. Pressing one last kiss to the nape ofher neck, he moved to see to his own attire.
——
Miraculously, they weren’t late. Aziraphale attributed it toa regal Crowley, wearing gold and garnets at her throat and ears, her arm tuckedinto the crook of his.
Then again, he might just be besotted.
He could live with it.
#Good Omens#Ineffable Husbands#Crowley#Aziraphale#lywinis writes#female presenting!Crowley#minwrites
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@minwrites replied to your post “To the asshole who ran over and killed my cat today: please kill...”
Oh honey, I'm so sorry
thanks :( <3
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Rey and BB-8! Commission for @minwrites as a coloring page for her daughter. <3
Commission info here.
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You're My Lucky Charm
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2KAztF5
by MinWrites
Linong is afraid to show his soulmate how unlucky he is.
Words: 5141, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Soulmate AU - Sticky Notes
Fandoms: 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV), NINE PERCENT (Band)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Lin Yanjun, Chen Linong, Qian Zhenghao, Cai Xukun, You Zhangjing, Zhou Jie Qiong | Kyulkyung
Relationships: Cai Xukun/Chen Linong
Additional Tags: Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Angst, Post-it Notes
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2KAztF5
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“Are you okay?”
“I’m just tired.”
I’m tired of drifting away. I’m tired of sleepless nights, and blinding mornings. I’m tired of the day passing by, and still no resolution is found.
I’m tired. Yes. I’m tired of the world beyond me, laughing and smiling.
I’m tired. I’m tired of the fact I cannot reach you, I might not reach you. I’m tired of seeing you in so much pain, I’m tired of the glistening tears that glaze over your black, motionless eyes.
I’m tired. I’ve always been tired. But I’ll never be tired of looking at you. Looking at your smile, your strong hands. I’ll never be tired of you still striving to perfect yourself.
I’ll never be tired of you.
I love you.
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2021 was an excellent year for my writing. For me, personally? Not so much. But I've made wonderful friends, learned new things, and my writing has gotten much better.
I had a bit of a dilemma on which of my Tir Tochair series to put, because the other is very dear to me, but I love the whole series so much I just put the first one.
So, here you go! joining in the fun with the @continentcakeshop ...
Me, and some of my stories.
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K. angstiest thing you’ve every written. (Oh milker of the fan tears)
That one is a tossup.
If you’d asked me circa 2011-2012, I would have promptly answered Aquila.
If you’d asked me about 2013, it would have been Low.
Between 2015-2016 it was probably Wednesday’s Child.
Now? Probably the first chapter of Mnemosyne. Mostly because everyone freaked out about it not continuing.
#lywinis writes#lywinis memes#minwrites#I will absolutely drink your tears#part of a balanced breakfast
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I've Waited So Long (For This Moment)
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2KXP9TQ
by MinWrites
Zhangjing wonders why he doesn't receive a sticky note from his soulmate while almost everyone else did.
SOULMATE AU: Everyone receives a limited amount of sticky notes. Whatever you write on it, it would magically appear somewhere in your soulmate's line of sight during the day.
Words: 4091, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Soulmate AU - Sticky Notes
Fandoms: 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV), NINE PERCENT (Band)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Lin Yanjun, You Zhangjing, Lin Chaoze, Chen Linong, Cai Xukun
Relationships: Lin Yanjun/You Zhangjing
Additional Tags: Fluff, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, angst if you squint
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2KXP9TQ
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How can I be so dumb as to want, as to yearn for something that is not mine. How can I stop this nonsense? It's beginning to scare me. The fact I haven't known you for much time, but I have started to love you is terrifying. I know what it will do to me, and yet, I want to see how far you'll take me. Please keep your eyes on me. I'll make you see how much you mean to me.
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(Something written on a whim. Just readying the muse I suppose?? ah, well I'll post it here anyway ;w;;;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'There is no next year for a third year'
Saying it like...feels too melancholic--but blunt truth was always better when it came to things like this. Things that riled up in the back of his mind--each whisper like a faint tapping against that soft smile. But there wasn't bitterness in his heart--Sugawara was far too kind for something like that.
However, it wasn't like he was giving up of course. Doing something like that would be an insult to Kageyama--to everyone...but like the kindness that flowed through him, so did the burning passion he had always carried through these years.
The thrill of being on that court...a rush of adrenaline that washed over him in waves--and though he remained focused, he was at the mercy of that ebb and flow...
Ah, maybe this is too poetic?
If he were to spill forth his desires, it would be nothing short of simple. Something like...'I want to stand beside them'...or was that too straightforward? Was it not enough?
Sugawara smiles a bit sheepishly too himself. Having such deep thoughts in the middle of the day--it couldn't be healthy...He sighs, letting his arms rise to a light stretch. Out of the corner of his eye, Sugawara catches sight of someone approaching him.
His eyes catch onto hers...an innocent exchange of gaze. Though, this wasn't the glance of a stranger--rather, someone he greatly admired.
"Good afternoon Lieschen." Sugawara smiles, calm and genuine, as was his nature. Somehow though, even these simple words made his heart swell...just because they were for her.
Having too many desires to count...he isn't above that--no human is. So when he thinks of those words...he knows that it means more to him then he would ever let on. But it's okay to feel that strongly about something, right?
It's important to have something so thrilling to look forward to. It's important to hope that something that exciting is always bound to come around--and that's why...
"Will you come see us then?" Koushi knows her answer--it's never changed in the last three years...and knowing that..knowing that she would be there--watching and cheering--hoping for the final grand flight of these crows...Sugawara feels something bubbling within him.
When it all ends...he can't count on her to support him like this anymore...right? Whatever lays beyond the life of a third year--Sugawara feels that...in this moment, it doesn't matter, rather, it's okay.
His desire to stand beside them. The desire to be continue to be seen by her--to know she would be there behind him--always smiling, always watching with that unyielding faith.
No matter how it turns out...he'll accept it. But he can't tell the future--and right now, he'll enjoy everything to the fullest.
Practicing at his best...but it wasn't just for volleyball games. For all it was worth...he would get his feelings across to her somehow....
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The five things I'd put into a pentagram to summon you: wench art, steamy smut, fresh baked cookies, a ridiculously geeky cocktail, and video games ;)
and this is why I love you :)
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minwrites replied to your post: Trying to write Kingsman, distracted by Coulson...
But you always need more capsicoul
The world needs more Capsicoul tbh.
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Fanfic Ask Game - R U Y
R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?
Stephen King, as far as authors who are published go. The man is wordcount goals. Basically, he puts down at least three pages every day, sits there and writes until noon. He goes to it, each and every day. He’s almost manic, but then, he had a good bit of cocaine running through his system in the eighties. Now, though? He still keeps that schedule, and he’s relentless.
"Don't wait for the muse. As I've said, he's a hardheaded guy who's not susceptible to a lot of creative fluttering. This isn't the Ouija board or the spirit-world we're talking about here, but just another job like laying pipe or driving long-haul trucks. Your job is to make sure the muse knows where you're going to be every day from nine 'til noon. Or seven 'til three. If he does know, I assure you that sooner or later he'll start showing up."
"Let's get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn't to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up."
You’ve gotta put the work in. You have to read and write and read some more, stretch those muscles before you can use them to their fullest potential.
Stephen King gets it. He gets me. And I get it, too. Writing is hard, but it’s the only thing I want to do for the rest of my life. It’s the only thing I know how to do, and do well. Even when everything else is ashes, I can still write.
"Writing isn't about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it's about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It's about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy."
U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.
@mikanis -- You were my first, way back in high school. You were the one who got me, all those years ago, reaching out in between my lines and drawing out the best of me. I was jealous of you, in the sense that I wanted to be able to do what you did, wanted to feel the way your words rested on the insides of me. You could always, always pluck me like a harp, especially when it came to the Preseli, and the Hounds.
You still can. When I’m raw with something I’ve written, plucked it still beating from the heart of me? I think of you, and I make sure to plate it pretty.
@bearfeathers - You? You were always senpai. There’s always such a quiet joy to read what you write, because there is a delicate softness there that’s like touching a flower petal. It feels like it will tear, but there’s a core of steel running through it, a narrative flow that sweeps you along and takes me exactly where you need me to go, and you pilot that vessel like you’re married to the sea.
You are, and always will be, one of my most favorites. I still wake up and just marvel at the fact that we’re friends. It’s a little like being star struck, I suppose.
@minwrites - You and I don’t write together anymore, but there’s something...liberating, about talking about it with someone who understands me like you do. I still can’t quite believe that people fangirled over me, but you told me it was true, and you’re not allowed to lie to me. I love your alternate perspectives on things, and hashing out canons for the Dragon Age and Mass Effect games was something that brought me light in such a dark time of my life.
It’s always a pleasure to have you in my inbox when you decide to send me prompts. You are, in fact, very good at knowing exactly what will tempt me. You are the best.
Y: A character you want to protect.
Any character that’s grossly mischaracterized by the fandoms at large. Honestly, it’s just...it makes me itch. That’s the first part about making fan works; understand the characters first, the rest comes like breathing.
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B k and x
Fanfic Ask Meme here!
B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?
Enh, all of them are at one point or another. There are little bits and pieces of me in everything I write. Though the closest I think I’ve ever come is The House Always Wins, because I was a pitch blackjack dealer (though not in Vegas) at one point in my life.
K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?
Ahahahaha, for which fandom? No but recently I had a talk with Bearfeathers about Kingsman boggarts for the Harry Potter AU I was talking about. And my thought for Harry was that his would be Merlin, telling him that his Veela curse was broken and that he could never really be with a monster like him. (As Harry is quarter-Veela.) It then morphs to James, who says a lot of the same, and then to Martin, who outright calls him an abomination.
X: A character you enjoy making suffer.
Comedy answer? @bearfethers
Serious answer: Fucking Chester King. Fuck that guy, what an asshole.
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