But can I waffle it?

Oh god. This is terribad but I’m reading it anyway. I blame @aenariasbookshelf and too many conversations about werewolves and Captain America and this awful and amazingly awful run. I love it.

“Almost didn’t,” Steve winces.

“What idiot thing did you do?” Bucky says sharing a worried glance with Natasha.

“Not as stupid as you might think,” Natasha says wryly.

“There were more monsters than the report said. Big furry fucks…sorry, Natasha,” Steve grimaces. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’ve heard worse from you in the field, Rogers.”

“There were kids, Buck. The creatures surrounded us. Bullets didn’t work. We barely got the kids out.”

“I told you to leave me,” Natasha says crossing her arms.

“Wasn’t gonna happen,” Steve says hunching his shoulders. He tries to make himself smaller, ignore the pull of the moon as it create over the hills. His hands shake, nails thickening into claws. His skin itches all over, thick hair marching across his body. A frustrated snarl slips past teeth gone too sharp for a human mouth.

“Steve, what the fuck?”

I kinda need more…

Three weeks ago the team had gone a town on the border between Latveria and Sokovia. Steve Rogers came back but Captain America didn’t. Steve passed the shield on to Sam Wilson and withdrew from the world. Hard.

The serum did a lot for Steve. What it didn’t do was prevent a bone deep bite from turning into a rampant case of lycanthropy. He never left the compound. The only battle he fought now is the one to keep his form from shifting. Man and wolf and something in between.

It kinda ruined the whole almost thing they had going on.

“Steve,” Darcy calls out, holding the place in her book with a finger. She could deal with the wolf. Possibly the wolfman. The problem is the man. “Stop it. They’ll be back soon.”

He ignores her. Turning in the open kitchen and pacing back toward the couches. A low growl issues from his throat.

“Steve.”

His team is out there in the field and all he can do is listen on the comm stuck in his ear and try and hold the shape of a man. The wolf in him couldn’t be trusted not to tear the throat out of an enemy and as much as it stung he was stuck at the base. Steve stood by his choice to give Sam the shield, he made a damn good Captain America. But Steve still itched to be out there.

Protect the pack. It’s what the wolf wanted. The trouble was the wolf was him.

He can feel the moon sing in his blood, in the marrow of his bones. All he wanted to do was shift his skin and run on four paws into the night. Chase scents in the forest surrounding the Avengers Facility. Run and hunt.

“Sorry, I’m…sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay we’ll figure this out, and you can get back to the superheroing business,” Darcy says from her nest of blankets and books. She puts one books aside and reaches for another. The book is a thick volume in brown leather and golden Asgardian script that wiggles and dances.

“I don’t know how you can read that,” he murmurs his feet carrying him across the room without his permission.

“Research. It’s what I do,” Darcy shrugs like it’s nothing. And maybe it is to a girl that lived among the gods for a year at Dr Foster’s side.

“You say that like reading ancient Asgardian text is nothing.”

“You can thank Frigga if you want. She gave me the spell. I can read the books, read the Asgardian language and any other but i can only read so fast.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, nails half turned to claws scratching against his skull. He takes a few deep breaths, mouth open to taste the air. The musty papery smell of books fills his lungs, mingled with the scent of fabric softener, old coffee, the individual scents of his team, coconut shampoo and above all else the warm cinnamon and vanilla scent of Darcy’s skin.

The wolf wanted to roll in that smell, rub it into his fur, the trouble was Steve did too.

“Okay, back at it,” she says reaching for her coffee cup. It’s empty. Darcy’s shoulders slump and she digs herself out of her nest of books and fleecy throw. Her legs protest the act of shuffling to the kitchen area. Switching the electric kettle on she scowls at the French Press buried in the dish filled sink. “Gross,” she says scrunching up her face.

It had been a year and a half since the Dark Elves and that whole nazi hydra infestation that had Thor stealing Jane and herself off to Asgard. That had been…unexpected and delightfully weird, and a little less heart wrenching than helplessly watching Steve tear himself apart.

Darcy was certain she was destined to be an NPC in someone else’s life. At no point had she ever felt much at all like the protagonist in a story, despite all the unbelievably odd turn her life took once she signed up to be Dr Foster’s Girl Thursday. She never really got up the courage to tell Jane that taking the internship never really been about the credits.

It had been the start of her sophomore year at Culver and Darcy had been desperate to do something different, something that would mean she had someplace to be other than going to her parents house or staying in the dorms over another break. To be fair it sounded like a fun to look up at the stars in the desert sky, make coffee and chill out in the middle of nowhere New Mexico.

Then a god fell from the sky.

And now her almost sorta crush was a werewolf.

There was no almost about it. Except maybe the almost a year spent in Asgard following around Jane and the All Mother in turns like a lost little wolf cub. Odin love her, she needs to stop thinking about wolfy puns and find something to help Steve curb his animal instincts.

Animal instincts…that was something she needed to not think too much about. That or the tiny little self satisfied smile Steve got whenever she smiled at one of his sassy little remarks. But that was all edge of the map, don’t stray from the path stuff that she wasn’t going to think about.

She’s adding a dribble, okay a splash, of cream to her mug of coffee when she hears the tick of claws on the floor. Steve in wolf form is massive. Dark fur shot with gold, but the eyes are the same clear blue. He slinks around the coffee table and jumps onto the sofa flopping down in the middle of Darcy’s research nest.

A war without end, a woman alone, and a sacred duty she must protect.

Born into a war almost as old as Sol and Lune themselves, Lumen, Lady of Fenn Manor has watched her family sacrifice for years at the altar of her country’s ambitions.

Alone and unprotected when the enemy army arrives on her doorstep, she faces two impossible choices: run north to her countrymen, or protect her home and bear the company of the temperamental General Westbrook.

As the army’s stay stretches on, Lumen learns what she’s willing to sacrifice and what cannot be surrendered. Westbrook isn’t the only man in the company interested in Lumen. There is Healer Brink who hides secrets as fiercely as feelings, and Gideon Jones who fights as fiercely as he loves.

Can Lumen survive the onslaught against her home, her honor, her heart? Only Mother Lune knows.

Sol & Lune is part one of a reverse harem romance duet about the transformation of Lumen Fenn and the three men fascinated by her. It contains emotionally dark themes and is meant for readers age 18 and up. The duet will end with an HEA.

I didn’t do it this time!!!

@ishipitpod / @anais-ninja-bitch / @idontgettechnology