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Period Trouble
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?
Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it
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You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.
You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 
There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.
You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”
You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”
Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.
Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”
The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.
Oh how you regretted that decision now.
“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”
Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.
“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.
She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”
Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.
You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”
When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”
She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”
You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”
Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”
You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.
You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.
He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.
“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.
Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”
It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”
He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”
You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.
Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 
You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”
You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”
You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not-”
“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”
You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”
He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.
Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”
You scowled at him. “Says who?”
He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”
You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.
“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.
Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.
As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.
Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.
You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.
When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.
“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.
Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.
Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.
“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”
You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”
He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”
Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 
Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.
An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.
“Mrs May?” you asked.
The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”
You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.
“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?
Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 
The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”
There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.
The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”
Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.
You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.
You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”
You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”
Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”
“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”
Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”
“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”
Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”
Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”
Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”
You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”
“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”
The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.
“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.
Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”
You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.
Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.
As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”
You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.
You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 8 days
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I’m so sleepy I need to be shot with a gun
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 9 days
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Where The Shadows Dance (iii)
Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader
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CHAPTER III: The Princess
SUMMARY: Azriel and the Princess of the Autumn Court have spent two weeks together now, and yet Azriel's shell is one not easily broken
WARNINGS: once again more misogyny! yay! and also both y/n and azriel can be real bitchy
NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33
WORDS: 1.7K
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You sat at your desk, pouring over the book you were currently studying. It was the most thorough study on rare Fae abilities you could find, although it was not thorough enough to understand the shadowsinger who sat behind you, reading a book of his own. No, Azriel was a different puzzle altogether.
You had truly enjoyed spending time with the Night Court members — Cassian was an absolute menace and you loved him already; Rhysand was a cunning leader, and you were fascinated by his rule of the Night Court; Feyre was beautiful inside and out, and her powers intrigued you; Amren was scary, plain and simple — although she was also wickedly intelligent; and Azriel, while soft-spoken, added insightful comments to each conversation.
Well, at least he did, until his court members had left two weeks ago. Now he just seemed to brood everywhere he followed you. Indeed, that was what the male was currently doing, his eyes on the window, a frown tugging at his lips and brows, book open but unread. You wished the book in front of you would tell you whether it was a shadowsinger trait, or simply an Azriel trait.
“Stop brooding,” you chided him.
Azriel looked up at you, brows still furrowed, a slightly annoyed expression crossing over his face. “I’m not brooding,” he huffed.
“You are so. Your broodiness is distracting me from my reading,” you replied with a delicate sniff.
Azriel rolled his eyes and didn’t respond. You weren’t sure whether you preferred this side of him — of course, you definitely enjoyed the side of him you experienced within the company of the Night Court, but something about his broodiness… Well, it was kind of hot.
“I can’t read with your brooding,” you sighed. “You’re crowding this room with negative thoughts.”
“That’s not even a thing,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear.
You closed your book and stood up, the action prompting Azriel to rise as well. You watched him carefully, the male watching you right back. Those hazel eyes bored into yours, and you could have sworn you saw a flicker of something, beyond cold disinterest.
“Would you like to accompany me on a walk?” you asked, knowing that he would have to agree.
Azriel dipped his head slightly, ever the polite and respectful male, despite his sullenness. “Of course, Lady. Where to?”
“I was thinking the main street–”
“Not this again,” Azriel groaned, rolling his eyes. 
You crossed your arms and glared at the Illyrian male. Unfortunately, your father had given Azriel a rather long list of rules, dictating what you could and could not do, where you could and could not go, who you could see and could not see, and on and on and on. You honestly thought that your father had more important things to do than write a silly list to trap his daughter with, but apparently not.
One of the places you were strictly prohibited from visiting was anywhere outside the castle. Not that you’d really ever done that much before, as your father liked to keep you ‘protected’, but even with the security of your Illyrian bodyguard, you were not allowed beyond the palace walls. To be fair, the ‘attempt on your life’ — as your father liked to put it — did happen during a parade on the main streets, but you had been perfectly fine.
“I don’t understand why—” you began, but Azriel interrupted, politeness gone.
“Your father strictly stated that you are not to leave the castle,” he reminded you harshly.
You scowled at the shadowsinger. He seemed so much more… willing to comply whenever his friends were around. Now that he was alone with you, it was as if his heart was made of stone, and he felt nothing — no compassion for you at all.
“So you will aid in the entrapment of another female?” you frowned. “Didn’t you try to save your friend Morrigan from the same fate?”
You knew you’d struck a nerve when a sliver of glittering rage shone in his eyes. You felt a tad bad, as it was a low blow — really, there wasn't anything he could do to help you — but you were honestly sick and tired of being stuck in the castle. Had the shadowsinger not been present, you would have snuck out already, as you tended to do quite a bit. You were lucky enough to have inherited your mother’s ability to create perfect glamours, and it came in handy when you wanted to sneak out.
But the shadowsinger would not leave you be. He shadowed your every step, always lingering and watching. He was clearly taking this bodyguard role seriously — too seriously, in your opinion.
You sighed at the shadowsinger and crossed your arms. “The Orchards?” you suggested.
Azriel’s polite mask slipped in place, but you could still sense his anger at your words. “Of course, Lady Vanserra.”
 You decided not to worry yourself about his feelings. It didn’t matter, anyway. He would be gone as soon as this threat was terminated, and then you would have to marry whatever nobility your father deemed worthy. You’d never see Azriel or the Night Court members again.
At least, that’s what you were supposed to think. But you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about running away from the Autumn Court and living in Velaris, the City of Starlight, for the rest of your immortal life.
You allowed Azriel to lead you down to the Royal Orchards, while also trying to converse with him. As per usual, his answers were short and clipped, perhaps more so due to your hurtful words. However, no matter what you asked, you just couldn’t break past his walls.
“You don’t like my brothers very much, do you?” you inquired as you walked through the apple trees.
“I do not know them well enough to form an opinion,” Azriel answered politely.
You snorted, knowing that was not true. No one really liked your brothers, as most of them were too similar to your father for anyone’s liking, even yours. You only had two brothers who you actually liked, because they treated you like a person, not an object.
You were only six when Lucien left the Autumn Court, but you remembered him fondly. He was easily the nicest of your brothers, with much more of a resemblance to your mother than to your father. And it wasn’t just physical likeliness — Lucien showed the compassion and kindness that your mother did, which was why he was one of your favourite brothers, even if you hadn’t seen him in decades.
Your other favourite brother, contrary to popular belief, was Eris. You knew for a fact that Azriel despised Eris, as most people did. They just didn’t know him like you did. Eris had a soft spot for you, a side that no one besides your mother ever saw. Yes, while you could admit that he was a sadistic asshole to most people, he’d never been anything but a great older brother to you. He’d taught you how to protect your mind from Daemati, and he’d also trained you in combat for a few years, until your father had found out.
The rest of your brothers took after your father, so they paid you no mind. You didn’t really care, as they were all dim-witted brutes anyway. Although it would have been nice to have a few more family members who actually cared.
“Do you like your brothers?” Azriel inquired.
You blinked at the question, then shrugged. “Eris and Lucien, although I haven’t seen Lucien in decades.” 
Azriel nodded and said nothing more, and you internally groaned. Every time you thought you’d come close to breaking down his walls, he would go silent and, once again, disinterested. You wondered why he acted this way.
An apple hung on a branch ahead of you, and you reached up, only for your fingers to brush against the bottom of the fruit. You frowned in frustration, tempted to burn the whole branch off, when a gloved hand reached up and grabbed the apple. Azriel held it out to you, and you took it from him without a word.
“Why are you so gloomy?” you asked.
Azriel paused, looking at you boredly. “I’m not gloomy.”
“You definitely are,” you hummed, turning the apple in your hand. “You seem bored.”
Azriel rolled his eyes. “I came here under the impression that I would have to protect you against a possible assassination, rather than walking around and doing nothing with you.”
“I know of a few things we could do together,” you purred, looking at Azriel from beneath lowered lashes.
Azriel’s stare hardened in annoyance, and you grinned at him. It was moments like these that you loved, when you could get under his skin with just a few words. It happened more often than Azriel would probably willingly admit.
You sighed deeply and picked up your skirts, heading back to your quarters, Azriel only a few steps behind. The castle came closer much too quickly, and a plan began to formulate in your mind. You took the sweeping staircases up to your chambers, and opened the door to your bathroom. Azriel was still only a step behind you, so you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you going to join me?” you asked.
Azriel’s eyes took in the bathtub, and a mortified expression took over his face for a split second, before it was once again neutral.
“My apologies, Lady Vanserra,” Azriel murmured. 
He turned away, but you caught a glimpse of red on his cheeks as he shut the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom. You smiled to yourself and began to undress, the layers of your dress fluttering to the floor.
You walked over to the furthest wall from the door and tapped lightly on the red and orange wallpaper, feeling around for the secret nook. Once found, you pulled out the red tunic and black pants, something your father would probably have a fit over if he caught you wearing. 
You turned back to the door, sensing Azriel’s presence. You heard the whisper of a page being turned over, so you grabbed your gown and a pair of scissors.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 10 days
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just found out that in my previous situationship I WAS THE OTHER WOMAN FOR A BREIF PERIOD OF TIME. WTF.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 10 days
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guys i LITERALLY cannot wait to finish writing wtsd so u guys can connect the foreshadowing... like im literally fangirling over my own work wtf😭😭
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 10 days
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i think they must put something in foreshadowing cos like... why does it feel this good. why do i feel like i've connected all the dots. why do i feel like a god.
i wrote the foreshadowing btw. by accident
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 11 days
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I just saw your post about your break up, hope you're okay, I love your work btw! <3
- 🍂🍁 anon
thank you, just trying to focus on the good things in life rn (mostly writing lol) :)<3
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 11 days
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texts with bf!matt
warnings: sexual content, swearing
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 13 days
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 17 days
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y'all. just went through a one sided break up. literally made me feel so bad I'm writing poetry. fucking poetry. anyways
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 24 days
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Where The Shadows Dance - The Bodyguard (ii)
Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader
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CHAPTER II: The Bodyguard
SUMMARY: The Night Court must decide who shall remain to protect the Daughter of Autumn, while also getting to know the princess with a fiery soul.
WARNINGS: More misogyny! yay! mentions of alcohol, tw: beron (we all hate him its ok), people talking shit behind y/n's back, probably swearing i can't remember (also i just swore in the warning so like... it's possible), daddy issues!
NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33
WORDS: 2K
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Sitting in the quarters Beron had assigned to the Night Court guests, the inner circle debated how to approach this situation they had found themselves in. 
One of them was to play bodyguard for the Princess of the Autumn Court. Of course, there were many logistics to sort out, ranging from the most obvious one – who would be the assigned bodyguard – to smaller details, such as whether they needed more than one Night Court member to remain in Autumn.
“I’m telling you, they’re a bunch of snakes,” Cassian said firmly. “We can’t just leave one person behind. What if this is a ploy?”
“That is true,” Feyre mused, “but why bother to make a ploy at all? We fought in the war together, and an unprovoked attack against the Night Court would cause another war. And Beron must know that the other courts would be on our side.”
Amren sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Cassian. We can’t trust these people.”
Azriel stayed silent, mulling it all over. It was all true — fighting for the same side in the war had brought the courts together, but then again, there were people like Eris and his brothers lurking in this court.
A soft knock on the door prompted everyone to look towards the sound. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Eris, a small smile on his face.
“It is lovely to see you all in a different scenery,” Eris commented after he had closed the door.
“Eris,” Rhysand greeted. “How can we help you?”
Eris went ahead and took a seat in a scarlet chair beside the fireplace, relaxing with ease. Azriel supposed it would be easier to do so now that he was in his own home, but the sight still frustrated the shadowsinger.
“I just wanted to see what you all thought of my father’s… proposition,” Eris said casually.
“Did you know?” Cassian questioned.
Eris shrugged. “I did tell you that it had something to do with my sister.”
“There was an attempt on her life, which you failed to mention,” Azriel stated.
Eris just smiled calmly. “Must have slipped my mind.”
This was exactly what Cassian had been talking about before, Azriel knew. They were cunning and sly in the Autumn Court, and that made them dangerous.
“Anything else that may have ‘slipped your mind’?” Azriel inquired.
Eris turned his gaze to the shadowsinger, a small smirk on his face. Azriel wanted to punch the male, and he remembered the feel of his neck beneath his hands, and how close he could have come to killing the heir before him. He sort of wished he had.
“My father has already chosen which member of your court he wants as Y/n’s bodyguard,” Eris revealed.
Azriel blinked. Despite the fact that Beron had given them the illusion of free choice, of course the male had already decided. After looking at Eris expectantly, Rhysand realised the male would not freely give up this information.
“Who?” the High Lord asked.
Eris glanced at Azriel. “The shadowsinger, of course.”
Everyone looked at Azriel, and the Illyrian wanted to shrink away from the attention. Why him? Yes, perhaps he appeared more gentlemanly than Cassian, as he knew how to keep his mouth shut, but what else? Yes, he was the Spymaster for the Night Court, but Cassian was the general of the armies. Amren terrified everyone, and yes, she’d be more than capable to be a bodyguard, but then again, Amren might kill the princess if she annoyed her.
“Why Azriel?” Rhys questioned.
Eris looked at the High Lord as if he was incompetent. “Is he not the most obvious choice? That one–” he nodded to Cassian, “–has already tainted a female promised to the Autumn Court.”
Rage, icy cold, flowed through Azriel at the implications behind Eris's words. ‘A female promised to the Autumn Court’ was very obviously Mor, and the entitlement in his tone…
“First of all, I have a mate–” Cassian growled, but Rhysand cut him off.
“Let's not argue,” the High Lord said firmly, although silent fury shone in his eyes at Eris's words. “We're all allies here.”
Eris rolled his eyes but said nothing more, and Cassian glared at the Autumn Court heir, clearly imagining all the ways he could rip him apart.
“Didn't Azriel try to kill you at the High Lord's meeting?” Amren mused.
Eris glowered at the female. “Well, we certainly can't have you here. Your mere presence makes the courtiers uneasy.”
“I did save your asses during the war,” Amren reminded him, but she seemed more than pleased that she still terrified people. 
Azriel let out a breath. He had guessed that it would be himself who would have to play bodyguard, but how could he do so when his job was one of utmost importance to the Night Court? Even now, with Nyx only half a year old, there were so many threats that needed to be uncovered and eliminated.
Azriel glanced at Rhysand and Feyre. Both had been reluctant to leave their son behind for a week, but they knew it would be much too dangerous to bring him to the Autumn Court. Nesta, Elain, and Mor had promised to take care of him while they were gone, and Nyx was probably having the time of his life with his Aunts.
What do you think? Rhys asked Azriel, mind to mind.
Azriel pondered his answer for a moment. I would be willing to do it, but to leave you without a Spymaster for the Cauldron knows how long…
I think we can manage for a little while, Rhys replied, a grin twinkling in his eyes.
Azriel nodded his confirmation. It was true — his court members were not truly useless without him. Just slightly disadvantaged, but they knew how to take care of themselves.
“I'll do it,” Azriel said aloud.
Cassian looked at his brother, eyes widened slightly with silent warning. Amren appeared disinterested in the conversation, but Azriel knew she was listening to every word. Eris simply nodded, as if he already knew Azriel would agree.
“Good,” Eris replied. “I will allow you to share the news with my father in your own time.”
The heir then got up and exited the room, leaving the Night Court members by themselves.
“I need a drink,” Amren muttered.
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The following week was a whirlwind. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, the Night Court members dined with the Autumn Court, and the Autumn Court members also showed them their home. It was mostly Y/n showing them around the palace and the grounds, with Autumn guards trailing closely behind.
Y/n was a different person when she was not around her father. She was much more talkative, and quick to joke and tease. After a few days, it was clear that Cassian adored the princess and her witty comebacks, and she clearly enjoyed the freedom of banter with him. It was almost as if they were destined to be best friends. But whenever any member of her family was present, she would go quiet, and exhibit “lady-like” speech and actions.
Azriel had heard many of the Autumn Court’s opinions of her through his shadows, and none of them were particularly fond. Wild, untamed, unlady-like, and irritating, were the words most commonly used to describe the princess in secret, but Azriel had a feeling she did not care what she thought about them. He could tell that she only cared what her father thought — perhaps not for praise, but rather in fear of punishment.
“So, have you decided which of you will be protecting me after this week?” she asked the Night Court members as they walked through the Royal apple orchard. The apples were the finest Azriel had ever tasted, and he wondered whether there was some kind of magic behind it to make them so.
“We have discussed it,” Rhysand replied, plucking an apple from a tree and handing it to his mate. Feyre took the apple with a smile.
Y/n sighed deeply. “I wish I could go to the Night Court with you. It sounds beautiful.”
While the Night Court members had told the princess a little bit about their home, the Autumn daughter was an avid reader, and had mentioned that she’d always been interested in The Night Court. She would read any book on their court a hundred times, and had learned about Starfall, Illyrians, and many other Night Court customs. When Rhys questioned her on the books she had read, she had become slightly evasive in her answers.
“I borrowed them,” Y/n had said casually.
Azriel had raised an eyebrow. “Borrowed, or stole?”
The grin the princess threw his way had set his heart racing, but he had no idea why. “I prefer the term 'mischievously possess.’”
Cassian had barked out a laugh, and even Amren had smiled slightly.
But as well as spending time with the princess, Azriel had other things to do. When she showed him the castle, he memorised it. He marked every exit, window, door, hiding place — everything. If he was to be her bodyguard, he would have to have the entire layout memorised. For her protection, but also for his. He didn’t doubt for one second that if he let his guard down, one of her brothers, maybe even Eris himself, would try to stab him in the back. Literally.
Eventually, the week came to an end, and the members of the Night Court gathered in the Autumn Court throne room. Azriel supposed that bonds had been slightly strengthened between the courts, but not by much. Mistrust was hard to get rid of, especially when there were centuries and generations of it.
“We have come to a decision,” Rhy told Beron, his hands resting in his pockets. “And my High Lady and I shall allow you to employ one of my warriors as your daughter’s bodyguard.”
Beron nodded, his gaze flicking to Azriel for a brief moment before going back to Rhys. “And have you decided which warrior shall be protecting my daughter?”
That glance told Azriel that Eris had been telling the truth. Beron hoped that it was the shadowsinger who would be playing bodyguard, and it made sense now. Although what didn’t make sense was the fact that Eris had not lied.
“Azriel shall remain behind to guard your daughter,” Rhys promised. 
“Wonderful,” Beron said with a nod. “Thank you for this, Rhysand. The Autumn Court shall never forget this favour.”
Rhys nodded at the High Lord, and both of them shook hands, their goodbye quick and brief. The Night Court's goodbyes to Azriel were lengthy in comparison.
“Stay safe,” Rhys told Az, clapping him on the back. “Our mental bridge will be open at all times. Let me know if there’s any trouble.”
“You act as if I can’t take care of myself,” Azriel replied, a half smirk on his face.
Rhys rolled his eyes and brought his brother into a hug, the eyes on them be damned. When Rhys pulled away, Cassian was there next, squeezing the shadowsinger into a hug that nearly crushed his bones.
“I’ll miss you, Azzie,” Cassian whispered in Azriel’s ear, which set him scowling. Cassian grinned and pulled away, Feyre replacing him. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in farewell, and before Az knew it, the Night Court disappeared into the void, leaving him alone in the Autumn Court.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 26 days
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Rhys: You look gorgeous, Y/n
Y/n: You're not even looking at me
Rhys: I know, but Azriel's heart just started beating faster
Azriel:
Y/n:
Azriel: Fuck you
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 27 days
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reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a fucking break
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month
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Seeing other writers on tumblr talk about writing is so validating because all of them are basically:
“I hate writing but I love it more than anything but it’s agony but I have a million stories to put to paper but I barely ever write a word”
And like I’ve always felt this way and I worried it meant I wasn’t supposed to be a writer, which tore me to shreds. But no. That’s just the curse of being one, I guess.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month
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I think Harley would somehow find something connected to Peter - maybe blue prints that peter and tony worked on together, or maybe the photo of the two of them - and show up in his apartment (like Tony did).
I think Peter would hold some sort of resentment against him, because Peter thought that Tony left SI to Harley (favouritism type stuff) but Harley would kind of reveal what happened, and question how Peter knew Tony so well. And then they'd argue like the siblings they are
Peter: I don't know what you're talking about, I've never met him before
Harley: Your name is signed at the bottom of this blueprint here
Peter: ...
Harley: This is a photo of you standing next to him with a certificate for your internship
Peter: ...
Peter: Nuh uh
Harley: The fuck you mean 'nuh uh'
Before Tony died, he never really discussed how to pass down his position in SI. Of course, he and Pepper had discussed at length that Morgan probably wouldn’t be interested. Morgan had never shown any interest in Tony or Peppers job, beyond rummaging through boxes of completed projects. Tony had been adamant that Morgan never be pressured into the company.
It must have never come up. Tony never had a protégé, had never discussed anything about the company’s future if he died to Peppers memory.
But that won’t stand with the board. Pepper is getting older, she wants more time with her daughter, and she can’t be CEO forever. But the board insists that SI is a family business, and a family member must be next in line, for publicity sake. Gotta love some nepotism, apparently.
While rifling through Tony’s old journals, Pepper finds something that gives her an idea: the name of a kid Tony used to send letters back and forth with. Apparently Tony worked with the kid wayyyy back, and they kept in touch. Harley even showed up to the funeral.
So Pepper invites Harley over, and they come up with a plan…
(A year later, Peter watches on a coffee shop TV as Pepper announces at a press conference that Tony secretly had a protégé: Harley Keener. Pepper discusses how the secret was only for those closest to Tony, but as Harley’s role expands, the public can now know.
Peter spends the walk back to his apartment trying to remember if he ever heard the name before, feeling sick to his stomach. Maybe he hadn’t been as close to Tony as he thought… maybe the spell wasn’t to blame for everything…)
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month
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Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)
Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader
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CHAPTER I: The Proposition
SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.
WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron
NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3
WORDS: 2.7K
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Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.
"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."
The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.
Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."
Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.
"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.
Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property. 
Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."
Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.
"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.
Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."
Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.
"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.
The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.
Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."
There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."
The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.
"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.
Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."
"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.
The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate. 
After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.
As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.
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Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.
The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.
It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.
Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.
The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.
Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried. 
"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."
Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.
"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"
Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.
“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.
Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.
“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”
Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?
Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.
Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.
Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.
Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.
“How do your siphons work?”
The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.
She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”
“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.
Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”
“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.
Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”
Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.
“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”
Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.
Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.
“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.
“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.
Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”
Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.
“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.
“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.
Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.
“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”
“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.
There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.
She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.
Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.
But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.
“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”
“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.
Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.
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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month
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SJM Masterlist
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Series:
Reunited | Part 2 (discontinued)
Never Yours | Evasively Yours (Part 2) | Always Yours (Part 3)
Where The Shadows Dance
Oneshots:
A Little Helping Hand
I Will Always Find You
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