I Dont Know If You Write Angst Stuff But I Have A Request For Howl Pendragon X Dead Past Lover Reader

i dont know if you write angst stuff but i have a request for howl pendragon x dead past lover reader

so imagine this set post ending and sophie just cleaning the "castle" as for usual, while cleaning howl's room she saw a picture of a man/woman/person lovingly hidden away and on the back it says "my starlight" in howl's handwriting then she asks howl about it and howl shares how long before sophie came, this person was the one who accompanies him and practically helped him raised his apprentice, his starlight, his first love that died for some reason (maybe protecting him for extra angst?)

ur choice on how sophie reacts to knowing that even tho theyre together now and there was no doubt that howl loves him, its obvious that his heart still belongs to this person

also lemme formally introduce myself, my name is ilyushka or ilya for short and i hope u dont mind me becoming a regular now because you and your blog is literally my comfort place now

- Ilyushka -

— signed, your beloved Howl

💭summary; it's... pretty much all up there ^^^ they did all the hard work, i'm just typing it out-

💭character(s); Howl Pendragon, Sophie Hatter, Michael (mentioned)

💭warnings; angst, mentions of loved-one's death, pseudo unrequited love, gender neutral reader!

—notes; hello, darling Ilya! it's lovely to meet you! I am truly in love with this request and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! this was so original and so very pretty! i was also listening to this to help channel the angst: [song] hope it worked! i also hope that my blog stays a comfort place for you, pretty!

Sophie moved with the pitter-patter of the rain, allowing it to guide her rhythm as she moved throughout the castle, weaving in and out of room and hall as she cleaned. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she often found the sound of rain to serve as a source of white noise, but Sophie's usually vigorous, precise movements were languid and almost lethargic as she swept and beat dust from the many mismatched rugs that covered the castle's floors.

Even as Sophie moved into the bedroom that she now shared with the infamous wizard Howl, her heavy eyes were drawn to the sight of her bed, wide and soft, practically calling out to her to lie down for just a moment.

After several moments of arguing with herself, reminding herself that she'd never finish in time if she were to lay down now, she decided to give into the urge to rest upon the embroidered down pillows that Howl saved just for her.

Even as her fiery red hair broke free of its usual braid, having been tossled about from hours of tedious cleaning and washing from this morning, Sophie swept the braid to her back before laying down. She groaned softly as she felt her muscles relax, allowing her to melt into the embrace of the bed she now knew so well. A small smile found purchase upon her lips as she was reminded of Howl's musk, finding that their sheets still maintained his signature scent of fresh air, fire wood, and various flower-based perfumes he still fuddled with to this day.

Before she even realized it, the sound of the rain against the flimsy panes of glass that resided on the wall beside her had lulled her to sleep, allowing the house to fill with a gentle kind of quietness that dared not be broken by even the smallest of mice.

Sophie dreamed of many things: of her life back home, of her dear sisters, and of Vanny's gentle eyes, and of course, of her Howl. Yet, this time, she dreamed only of the gentle side of him that he desired to keep private. As if the well-tempered, tame side of himself were only meant to be shared between him and his beloved. That the moments in which he looked at her with such love filled eyes that her anger toward him was forfeit, and in which he brushed her hair behind her ear so gently it was as if he feared she would break, were all meant for her to see, and only her.

She awoke feeling more love for her husband than she had felt for a while, and the strong desire for him to return home accompanied it. Even as she rolled onto her opposite side, her eyes still shut tight, she wished to feel his warmth against her as she turned. However, upon opening her eyes, she found that she would have to wait even longer before she could see her husband's irritably handsome face once again.

Sophie rose to her feet, her eyes still filled with sleep as she carefully felt her way along the cluttered nightstand that resided on Howl's side of the bed. Instead of finding purchase on the smooth, cool varnish of the wood, her palm was met only with various gems and stones and things, most probably filled with some type of forgotten magic, and knickknacks of wood and metal that resembled either a person or place upon its surface. However, buried amongst them was an item that Sophie had yet to see. Her curious hands moved to where her eyes resided, and found a picture frame of silver lying face down beneath the clutter of the rest of the many things Howl certainly needed to sort through tonight.

As she turned the frame over within her light grasp, she felt her lips part as an involuntary gasp barely passed between them. Within the frame was an image of the most beautiful being that Sophie had ever seen. It was difficult to tell their finer details apart from the faded background they rested upon, as the image seemed to be covered in a black sort of grime that only stained her fingers the more Sophie dared to wipe it off, but she could tell that they were certainly no average looking person like her.

Their eyes seemed to shine through the black smear upon the canvas, and their color was as brilliant as the life that seemed to pour from their figure. Even though she only held a picture frame within her hands, Sophie felt as if she were in the presence of a very important being, but one that seemed as gentle and as kind as the summer breeze itself. Her heart seemed lighter the longer she stared, only for another, much heavier feeling to take its place as she was able to make out handwriting hidden well within the corner of the image, almost covered entirely by the edge of the frame and the black grime.

Sophie made her way to the nearest windowsill and allowed for the few remaining golden rays of sunlight to shine upon the corner of the picture. Her lips moved as her eyes made out the words upon the image, but her voice remained silent all the same.

"My starlight. Signed, your beloved Howl"

Sophie's eyes rose to take in the sinking sun before her as her mind raced. Who was this wonderous being, and why did Howl seem to care for them so? Was there someone she did not know about or...

No, that couldn't be the case, she assured herself. By the looks of the quality of the image, it had been very poorly taken care of for quite a long time. Still, Sophie would have to ask him when he returned.

So, Sophie situated herself by the fireplace, contemplating just how she would bring this up during dinner tonight, or even if she should. But in her mind, if she were to continue being Howl's wife and he her husband, then there should be no secrets between the two of them. So although her heart still felt unsatisfied by the many excuses and faux answers that she came up with to soothe herself in the mean time, she found herself once again patching the holes in one of Howl's suits.

And that was just how he found her when he arrived home, working the needle on one of his newest jackets, mumbling to herself about something he decided he wouldn't even bother making out himself. He was tired, and all that he wanted now that he was home was to simply lie in the arms of his beloved wife, and let her scold him about how late he had returned once again as he fell asleep in her embrace.

Yet, Sophie seemed to have other plans.

"Who is this?" Sophie asked, obviously trying to hide the hint of impatience that carried within her tone, but failing nonetheless. Still Howl decided to play along, letting Sophie place an oddly familiar piece of silver into his hands.

He froze for a few good moments as he realized what had been handed to him. His starlight. The face of his starlight was staring back at him with eyes that he nearly managed to forget that he missed. Seemingly alive, seemingly... there again. This silent exchange between Howl and the image did not at all go unnoticed by Sophie, and she couldn't help the bit of jealousy that bubbled up from her chest and onto her tongue as she once again asked Howl about the person trapped within the frame.

"They’re..." Howl began, trying but failing miserably to find the right words to explain just who this person was, and how they had remained just out of reach for so long.

Finally, after his eyes grew less dull and his tongue less dry, Howl gave in.

"Sophie, my love," he began, his tone far softer and much quieter than Sophie had ever remembered hearing before, even when he spoke to Michael.

"This is... someone I once knew long ago. They were... much like what you are to me now, but from what seems to be another life."

A gentle but sad smile tilted the corners of Howl's lips, and Sophie immediately began to wonder if her jealousy was rightly placed with anger, or if she should have simply let this go.

"A very long time ago, I've even forgotten just how long..." Howl laughed to himself, but it did not take a fool to see that there was no joy in his doing so.

"I met them. This... beautiful, powerful, magical being... they were perfect in every way, and I wanted to be just like them."

Sophie couldn't deny the sting that she felt at his words, but she also could not deny that she had not seen such a look in Howl's eyes as long as she had known him.

That was the night that Sophie learned of the place you held within Howl's heart. Of the times that he had spent wooing you with far more than just his guitar. How he had used nothing more than his words and honest attempts to pursue you as his only methods of gathering your attention. How, once he finally was able to call you his, you agreed to teach him all that you knew, only to later on assist him with his pupil.

How Michael had been your favorite with how sweet and innocent he was at the time. With how gentle you were with children and how kindly you treated Howl and his insecure heart. Sophie saw that you even now held Howl in your hands, and you had not a clue.

Or perhaps you did. But, she would never be able to ask, as she found that you had died rather long ago. Even in such a valiant attempt to save his life, Sophie could see the hurt and anguish held within the tears that threated to fall from Howl's eyes before they soon cascaded endlessly down his cheeks. Nonetheless, he continued to speak as if this were a story he would only ever tell once, and that if Sophie so much as breathed too loud to hear, then that would be a piece that she would miss for eternity.

Sophie's stubborn heart swooned as Howl spoke of how his encounters with the very witch that had cursed her had lead to your demise. That a bought of jealousy from the witch had caused her to hunt you endlessly, somehow always finding you wherever you and Howl had hidden away, and all at the expense of Howl's meaningless flirting before a time where he had even known you.

And despite learning how much of a beautiful person you were, and how you were certainly a person that Howl not only love, but deeply admired, Sophie couldn't help but feel a deep seeded pit of resentment build within her chest for you, just at the way Howl's eyes slowly moved across your figure within the frame, as if you were a treasure he would only be able to remember if he looked upon you.

Sophie couldn't help but despise you, despite how wonderful you seemed. She wished she could love you just as he did, but she now knew that you had a hold on Howl's heart that she would never be able to obtain, and for that reason alone, she would hate you.

After that night, Sophie did her best to steer clear of the bedroom for a while. Even going so far as to skip it completely during her usual cleaning rounds. But, she knew that this couldn't last forever. Despite how many times she tried to get Howl to sleep with her by the hearth or to keep her and Michael company for the night, she was always somehow pulled back into that room with him. And even with Howl at her side, she felt colder now than ever.

How was she meant to sleep in the arms of the man that she loved when his heart still belonged to another?

She could feel it in every bouquet of flowers he brought to her, in every smile he showed only to her, in every kiss he offered and gratefully received, she couldn't help but think that he did it all for you...

But for once, she never said a word to Howl about it. She didn't want to hear him call her the "only one for him" or his "one and only" because she was afraid that, as ignorant as it was that the thought alone brought tears to her eyes, she felt that if those words did not lift the heaviness of her heart, then nothing else ever could.

She had to accept that her husband still loved you. Someone that he couldn't leave her for, although she sometimes wished that he could. Someone she could never come home to find him alone with, and someone that could never write him forbidden proclamations of love within letters that she'd find hidden beneath his pillow, because you were gone. Far, far away in a place that neither of them could ever find you. And yet, Sophie still believed for just a moment that you were somehow warmer than she now felt.

But alas, Sophie's aching heart started to feel less alone. With each press of Howl's lips against her own, she could feel her heart beginning to race again as it once did. She could feel it in the way he would press her frame entirely against his in a tight, warm embrace before heading out. She could see it in the smile that once again seemed to reach his eyes before it appeared on his lips as he stared at her. Even in the sharp words that he would throw at her whenever one of them decided to be more stubborn than the other and cause yet another fight to occupy the shortening distance between them.

She knew that her husband still loved her, and that no matter what had happened in the past, he chose her now and he would do so a million more times in a million more lives.

And that was how she regained the courage to set foot into her bedroom once more to clean. And only to clean, as she told herself. But with each stroke of the bristles of the broom against the floor boards, and with each step she took upon the floor that caused the aging beams to cry and moan, she couldn't shake the feeling of eyes upon her.

It felt as if your ghost was with her, watching her from just out of reach. Except, the twisting in her gut came only from the fact that this was not a harmful creature, but rather one of gentile silence that only came to wish her well. And that somehow only made her feel worse.

So with fire in her heart and impatience upon her tongue, Sophie turned around, her fiery red braid swinging behind her as she fully intended to curse, shout, and scream at that ridiculously intrusive face behind the glass, only for her throat to go dry as her eyes meet with yours.

Her anger and those pesky feelings of insecurity slowly began to melt away as she stared into the frame, her angry eyes melding with your honest ones and finding nothing but peace and... love. Love not just for Howl, but anyone else who was lucky to see them.

She found that she could not hate you. She did not blame Howl for loving you the first time she heard of you, and she still could not bring herself to do so now. Not after knowing of the kind of person you were. Not after seeing your face.

So instead of fighting as she always did. Instead of always needing to be right, and to be seen and respected, Sophie decided she would instead do you a favor.

She picked up her broom, shut her eyes tight, and turned toward the door before the right words arose to her throat.

"I promise to look after him for you," was all that she said before returning to her sweeping.

A short promise, but an unbreakable one nonetheless.

wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees

fingers crossed — lmh.

in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.

—

the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.

“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.

you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.

“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.

you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx

no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.

the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.

“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.

your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.

“you suck at pottery.”

mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.

“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.

“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.

“it’s just a unique bowl!”

your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.

now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.

you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.

“what d’you wanna watch?”

mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.

“what about friends?”

laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.

burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”

he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.

gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.

“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”

the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.

you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.

his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.

your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.

the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.

you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.

his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.

a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.

but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.

the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.

you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.

i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.

—

in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333

hello! how are you today? :D may i request a scenario with xiao where he’s fully simping for reader until he hears them call his name, only for them to be badly injured?

he can think something like, “i was just thinking about you, but not like this..?” and he’s enraged about the fact that reader’s hurt …

thank you so much in advanced! i hope you have a great day/night :)

Characters: Xiao

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, getting hurt, being emotionally constipated.

Genre: hurt/ comfort(?)

Jester's note: Hii hii, Im doing okay, I hope this is to your tastes!

Xiao would catch himself thinking about you more often than usual, somehow a mortal slipped into his life and became a part of it.

He would never say it out loud but he came to appreciate your presence. Whenever you walked in with a plate of almond tofu, talking about how your day went and what you did, it invoked a feeling within him, one he couldn’t get rid of and each day, this feeling grew stronger.

And eventually, he gave you the honour of calling his name whenever you needed his help…by that he meant to kill something, that was the only thing he was good at. No matter what you said, it’s what he was trained to do and no matter what, the red stains on his hands would never wash off.

The stains on his hands made him wonder whether he was even worthy to be with you. He could see that you held affection for him but would he be able to reciprocate that affection? Would someone who had never felt love be able to give it back?

These thoughts flooded his mind everyday and these very thoughts are what made him keep you away, yet even then you would never leave his mind.

It had been a while since you called his name and this didn’t worry him much, you were well capable of taking care of yourself and he had never seen you wander off to any place that seemed dangerous. He had seen you take care of fights with ease and not break a sweat.

If he could, if life gave him a chance, he would spend your mortal life with you and even in death he would remember you.

“Xiao!”

The adeptus didn’t waste a second to get to you, the urgency in your voice was enough to scare him but the sight he was met with was worse. You were covered in blood, barely able to stand properly.

His eyes met your and seeing your condition invoked many feelings within him but most prominent was that of anger; angry at the fact he couldn’t stop you from getting injured, angry at the monsters that caused you this much harm and anger directed at fate for trying to rip you apart from him.

He disposed of the monsters quickly before coming to your side and for once, the stoic adeptus had his emotions displayed, you could see the worry in his eyes as he tried to get you to keep your eyes open. You always thought the first emotion you’d made him feel was something more gentle, perhaps..love but here he was in distress about your condition.

It made you chuckle at how cruel life could be at times but you were glad that you’d be alive to make him break his façade with a much lighter emotion next time.

“I promise I’ll get you to break your façade with a better emotion next time and then you’ll always have me in your mind.” You said, giving him a small smile.

“Shut up and focus on surviving.”

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Lost Stars | Doyoung

doyoung x reader

genre: fluff, drama, some angst

summary: your prejudice against musicians keeps you from fully enjoying your contract photographing the new hit group, NCT 127, but as you involuntarily get closer to them, and with doyoung’s help, you start to change your views and believe in love once again

words: 14.8k

a/n: this is loosely based off the movie begin again. it’s one of my all time favourites and when i found out doyoung likes it too, i liked him even more. one of the quotes in the story is based on a quote in the movie as well. this also follows aspects of their the origin tour and the hit the states and bklyn boys videos

As you stare out the window and at the city down below, clouds covering the view in a white fluffy haze, you let out a sigh. Landing was approaching, meaning it would be one step closer to the fulfillment of the contract you have been dreading since it was announced to you. Opening the folder in your hands, you read over the requirements your job is going to entail for the following month.

NCT 127 1st Tour ‘Neo City - The Origin’ - PHOTOGRAPHER (20th April - 20th May)

Your job is simple really. Document the group’s life on the road as you follow them on the North American leg of their tour, whilst they prepare for their concerts, as they perform onstage and as they explore the various cities they visit. To capture the spirit of the boys’ lives on tour and their youthful curiosity of visiting a new place is essentially what the entertainment company wants from you.

It should be easy really, if it weren’t for the memories that plague your mind every time you read the words, ‘musicians’ or ‘idols’ throughout the contract.

Betrayal. Hatred. Pain. Emptiness. Mistrust; those are the emotions those words bring you.

On first notice, you had wanted to turn down the offer, the thought of having to spend a month with a group of musicians, leaving an uneasy feeling in your stomach, chest constricting as your breaths shallow, but you had pushed those thoughts and the hesitation aside when your agent told you of the exposure it would bring you as a photographer. And truthfully, he had a point in saying it would be like a paid vacation in a way; visiting new cities and being able to join the group on their sight-seeing adventures as you indulge in your true passion of photography.

So you agreed, and now here you are, sitting in business class with your agent beside you. Approximately fifteen minutes left until the descent to land.

You feel sick.

Even once touching down, there isn’t enough time to rest and quieten the anxious thoughts inside your head. Immediately, your agent hails a taxi, taking the both of you to the hotel you will be staying at for the next few days so you can drop off your luggage, have a quick bite and then head to the studio to meet NCT 127 and begin taking photos of each member for their individual page spreads on the album.

It’s only after seeing the obvious stress on your face and your tense posture does your agent remind you once again that this is also a good opportunity to take a well needed break. You only shake your head at him, causing him to once again advise you to stop projecting your bad experience onto every musician you meet.

Keep reading

[10:50 pm]

“‘m tired.” jisung mumbles into your neck as his sweat rolls off his own.

the boys had just finished one of their many performances, the loud instrumental of ridin’ still booming in your ears.

jisung loves the way your hands caress his hair despite the sweat it’s drenched in. you giggle as he buries his face deeper, “you were perfect.”

your soft murmur pasted a wide grin on the boy’s face, the statement was hushed just enough that only the two of you could hear it, and he couldn’t be more thankful he had you by his side than in that moment.

“says you,” the snickers jisung lets out are quiet and exhausted, but with your soft humming of their last song, the exhausted lovestruck boy lets himself be lulled to sleep in your arms.

[10:50 pm]

“‘m tired.” jisung mumbles into your neck as his sweat rolls off his own.

the boys had just finished one of their many performances, the loud instrumental of ridin’ still booming in your ears.

jisung loves the way your hands caress his hair despite the sweat it’s drenched in. you giggle as he buries his face deeper, “you were perfect.”

your soft murmur pasted a wide grin on the boy’s face, the statement was hushed just enough that only the two of you could hear it, and he couldn’t be more thankful he had you by his side than in that moment.

“says you,” the snickers jisung lets out are quiet and exhausted, but with your soft humming of their last song, the exhausted lovestruck boy lets himself be lulled to sleep in your arms.