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libsterslobsters · 3 years

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Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

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“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Unseemly Desire, or Nandor's Season of Self-Discovery - Nandor x Guillermo Fanfic

Sequel to I Fell into Fantasy | WWDITS Masterlist

Summary: In which Nandor tries to convince everyone, including himself, that he does not have any unseemly feelings for his familiar.

A/N: I couldn't decide on a serious title or a goof title, so I went with both. Thanks so much to Spiff from the Nandermo server for helping me workshop this idea. After I wrote "I Fell into Fantasy" I just kept thinking about how Nandor would spin into denial and the angst that would ensue. Then I woke up this morning with the idea of an axe throwing competition?? And now we're here?

Oh, yeah....this is a multi-chapter fic *flops around the floor helplessly*

Warnings/Tags: Angst, mutual pining, Eventual smut, Blood drinking, Toxic Masculinity in the Ottoman Empire, Repressing feelings, Axe throwing...the usual

---

Nandor wakes to the sound of his familiar quietly shuffling about the crypt, no doubt lighting the dozens of candles that line the room. The vampire shifts inside his coffin, frowning at the sticky feel of dried seed on the inside of his trousers. He’d gone to bed that morning with a powerful desire still coursing through his veins along with Guillermo’s sweet, virgin blood. The mere memory of last night’s feeding is enough to stir him once more and he growls, driving the heel of his palm against his crotch to stifle his reaction.

“Master? Are you alright?” Guillermo’s voice is sweet and tentative.

“I’m fine! Why would you ask such a thing?” he snaps irritably, then in a softer voice, “Is it safe to open my coffin now, Guillermo?”

In answer Guillermo cracks the lid, easily lifting the solid weight after years of practice. His master sits up quickly, tugging at the bottom of his loose nightshirt in an effort to cover the obvious stain on the front of his pants.

“Good evening, master,” Guillermo greets with his usual respectful subservience.

Good. Perhaps he won’t have to work too hard at reestablishing the boundaries he’d so savagely torn down the night before. It’s imperative that Nandor reminds his familiar of his place within the household and, especially, within their...relationship. His reaction to drinking Guillermo’s blood was shameful and he does not want his familiar getting any high ideas about a romance with his master.

He knows--how could he not?--of Guillermo’s inappropriate attraction to him. He hears the way the human’s heartbeat races whenever they are physically close. He sees the secret grins on Guillermo’s lips when Nandor does anything the least bit kind. But a romantic relationship between a vampire and a familiar? Yeeck! It’s just not done. Of course, he considered the sex slave option when this unnatural lust first manifested. Other vampires make such arrangements with their familiars. But Guillermo would want more. He would want snuggles and romance and caring and...maybe even a break from his chores?! And the idea of using Guillermo for sex, while appealing, also causes him to feel a burning, stabby pain in his chest that he can’t identify.

No, it is better that he keep things strictly professional. A master and his servant. Nothing more.

Nandor finally steels himself to look up at his familiar, keeping his face a cold, forbidding mask. And then he sees the massive bruise on Guillermo’s neck.

It’s an angry, deep purple that extends from his jaw down the side of his neck and beneath the collar of his fuzzy sweater. Two scabbed puncture wounds sit in the center of the damage, like demon eyes looking back at Nandor accusingly. He sucks in a breath and involuntarily reaches out to brush his fingers against the wounded skin. Guillermo flinches away from the touch with a pained mew.

“It’s just...tender, master,” Guillermo explains, almost apologetically.

Nandor can’t think straight. His eyes, liquid and deep, full of some unnameable emotion, focus on the damage he’s caused. How many dead bodies has he tossed aside without a qualm? How many bruises and bites and broken bones has he caused? But he’s never seen the results on someone he--

“I...Guillermo,” he whispers, finally locking eyes with his human and bringing his hand up to cup his cheek, “I did not mean to be causing permanent damage…”

Guillermo gasps softly at his master’s touch. He leans into it, silently thrilling when Nandor doesn’t immediately draw his hand away.

“Permanent? No, master, it’s just a bruise. It will fade eventually,” Guillermo assures him, but Nandor still looks skeptical.

“Does it hurt?” he asks and Guillermo brims with happiness at his master’s concern.

“Only a little bit, Na--master,” Guillermo stumbles, nearly breaking the carefully established protocol between them.

Nandor notes the mistake and snatches his hand away as if he’s been burned by holy water. He clambers out of the coffin without Guillermo’s assistance. They go through the motions of dressing. Nandor bends down so that Guillermo can get his shirt on over his head, steps into his trousers and boots, and sits quietly while Guillermo arranges his hair. All the while a single word cycles through his head.

Fuck!

---

Guillermo is practically buzzing with energy despite last night’s blood loss. Every time he moves he feels a delicious tug on his wound and the memories of his master’s touch come flying back to the surface of his mind. He doesn’t even care that Nandor dismissed him so abruptly after getting dressed. Nor does he care that he gave him a seemingly random and unnecessary order before fleeing the crypt in his bat form. Guillermo sits on the floor surrounded by his master’s extensive blade collection, carefully cleaning and polishing each one with a giant, goofy grin on his face.

---

“Well, well, well...doing the flight of shame, Nandor?” Laszlo chuckles at his own joke as Nandor drops out of his bat form into a chair in the fancy room.

“Very good joke, darling! Because he’s finally given the sex to Gizmo!” Nadja crows.

The couple are sitting together in the loveseat. Laszlo is bent over Nadja’s hand, painting her nails and heedlessly dripping lacquer all over the upholstery as he does so.

Nandor’s face blanches in alarm and he cries, “What the shit are you two talking about!? I have not been doing sex with Guillermo! Yuck! Unspeakable! Why would that even occur to you?”

“Me thinks he doth protest too much, eh, darling?” Laszlo remarks to another shriek of laughter from his wife.

Nandor jerks to his feet, bristling and defensive, but before he can think of a reply Laszlo continues, “Well if you weren’t having sex then what the blazes were you doing to the chap to cause those tantalizing moans?”

With this Laszlo launches into a cartoonish impression of the desperate cries and moans that Guillermo made as Nandor drank from him. Nadja claps her hands in delight and joins in the fun. The pair of perverts are soon screeching and twitching in exaggerated, obscene mockery of his familiar.

“Enough!” Nandor roars, stomping his foot petulantly. “Stop speaking of my familiar this way! It’s highly inappropriate!”

“So, you’re saying you didn’t roger your little rotten soldier last night?” Laszlo arches a brow, snorting under his breath derisively.

Nandor stares back at him in confusion, “What the fuck--?! No! Certainly not. Very...disgusting to even say such a thing. Gross!”

Laszlo glances to Nadja with a sly smirk as he speaks, “Then you wouldn’t mind if my good lady wife and I extended an invitation to the fellow to join us in a ménage à threesome?”

Nandor takes to the air, eyes glowing with rage as he hisses wildly at Laszlo.

“Hey dudes, what’s all the fuss about?” Colin Robinson, drawn by the pulsing waves of drama emanating from the room, appears in the doorway.

Nandor drops back onto his feet and whines, “Laszlo is making unsavory claims about my familiar and I won’t have it!”

“Nandor’s being a snake dick because he’s horny for his familiar and won’t admit it!” Nadja counters.

Nandor’s mouth snaps shut at that. Nadja’s words have struck true and Nandor feels a shiver of panic at the thought of his shameful secret being known throughout the household. He must convince them they’re mistaken...but how?

He’s still too enraged to think straight and rather than address Nadja’s words he simply bellows, “Satisfaction! I will have satisfaction against these two perverts!”

Colin grins, his eyes lighting with hungry delight, “How about a contest of some sort? Whoever wins is right. Of course, you should choose a neutral activity. Something in which you’re all equally matched. A checkers tournament? Scrabble, maybe…”

“A contest! Yes!” Nandor interrupts with an excited grin. “A challenge of strength and accuracy! Guillermo! Bring me my axes for throwing! My throwing axes!”

Nadja rolls her eyes and looks about to argue when Laszlo stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I say, good idea, Nandor. We’ll compete in a game of throwing axes. But to prove that you really are telling the truth and you don’t harbor secret, moist fantasies about your little familiar, we’ll make it more interesting. Whoever gets their axe closest to Gizmo without skewering the little guy wins!”

Nandor deflates, “That’s not...I don’t…”

Guillermo enters carefully holding a bundle of wickedly sharp axes. The blades shine in the candlelight and contrast against the soft, muted colors of his sweater. Nandor imagines one of those blades sinking into his familiar’s soft flesh and he shivers.

Laszlo looks as if he’s already won the little game he’s playing and Nandor clenches his fists, forcing levity into his voice as he announces, “Everyone in the garden! We are going to have a little game!”

---

Guillermo can’t decide if he’s more livid or terrified. He’s standing up against the fence, shivering despite his hat and coat, and desperately trying to hold still as his master casually tests the weight of the axe in his hand. Nadja and Laszlo look on, each carrying axes of their own, and Colin Robinson looks positively frenzied as he feeds off the tension in the air.

“Master, why are we doing this, again?” Guillermo wishes his voice didn’t have such a marked tremor in it.

“I am defending your honor, Guillermo. Now be very, very still,” Nandor launches the axe without any further warning.

Guillermo shrieks and he feels the air to the right of his head part as the blade sinks into the wood of the fence an inch away from his face. He turns to stare at the quivering handle with wide, horrified eyes.

“There!” Nandor announces with a smug smile. “No one could beat such a throw! Contest over, I win. Guillermo, attend me--”

Nandor is already starting to stride back to the house but Guillermo barely has a chance to let out a relieved sigh when Laszlo steps up wielding his own weapon.

“Not so fast, Gizmo! I’ll have my turn, thank you!” his voice lilts up dramatically as he raises the axe, screwing one eye shut and taking aim.

Nandor whirls, eyes wide with panic as he urgently hisses, “Be still, Guillermo!”

Guillermo shuts his eyes, whimpering as he awaits his fate. One second Laszlo is letting out a manful bellow as the axe leaves his fingers and the next second Guillermo is hissing in pain as the blade cuts into his cheek. His eyes flash open in shock and he brings his hand up to cup his face. Blood pours from the shallow wound. The pain is a sharp, burning intensity that brings tears stinging to his eyes.

“Ha!” Nandor gloats. “You’ve lost! Your blade touched...him.”

Laszlo swears under his breath but Nandor has lost his steam as the reality of his words hits him. He steps forward, involuntarily reaching for his wounded familiar. Then he catches the knowing look on Laszlo’s face and he stops himself, straightening his spine and raising his head in a show of haughty indifference that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“My turn!” Nadja trills, flipping her axe from hand to hand with a little skip in her step.

“Master… please!” Guillermo begs. There are tears leaking from his eyes now. Whatever fucking insult Nandor thinks they made against him isn’t worth this!

“Yes, Nandor, the boy has a point. My lady wife is known for many...eclectic skills, but her aim isn’t one of them. We could put a stop to this if you’d care to admit we’re right about your shameful little secret…”

“Never!” Nandor shouts, looking like a giant, angry toddler.

Guillermo’s head spins, “What? What is he talking about, master?”

Nandor turns to his familiar, injecting authority into his voice as he commands, “Guillermo, tell Nadja and Laszlo that we were not doing sex together last night!”

“E-excuse me!?” Guillermo sputters, feeling a heated blush creep up his neck.

Nandor lets out a frustrated growl and his lips curl in revulsion as he shouts, “Tell them that I did not have disgusting, unnatural sex with a...a...human servant! I order you!”

The hand he’s kept clutched over the bleeding wound on his cheek falls limp at his side. Guillermo looks from his master’s cold, detached expression to Nadja and Laszlo’s expectantly curious faces and he sighs in resignation even as another tiny piece of his heart chips and falls away.

“...He didn’t,” he says in a small voice and then, more loudly, “We did not have sex.”

Laszlo looks unconvinced and Nadja just looks annoyed.

“This is getting very boring and I still have not had my turn to throw the axe! Here I go!”

She flings the blade through the air with barely a glance in Guillermo’s direction. It wobbles in the air, toppling end over end as it cuts a deadly path that Nandor immediately sees will end in his familiar’s gut. Guillermo has barely enough time to flinch but Nandor moves with supernatural speed, dashing in front of his human and plucking the axe from the air before it can hurt him.

“Nadja!” Nandor admonishes in an affronted tone. “That was very careless of you! You could have seriously injured my Gui--my familiar! I’m very annoyed with you both!”

Guillermo trembles from behind Nandor, clinging to the fabric of his cape for comfort despite the anger, hurt and resentment that still broils just beneath the surface of his emotions. He’ll deal with all that once his legs resolidify.

Laszlo waves away the near-catastrophe with a flick of his wrist and holds out his arm for Nadja as he comments, “I think we have our answer, darling…”

Nandor’s hands curl into fists at his sides as he watches the other vampires stroll away with smug satisfaction on their faces.

Fucking shit!

---

“Guillermo…” Nandor pauses on his way up the step stool, he squeezes his familiar’s hand in his. “About tonight…”

He’s going to apologize for putting me in danger...for saying those things… Guillermo looks up at him with hopeful expectation in his eyes.

“I hope you are not getting strange notions in your little human brain because of what Laszlo said. It was very wrong of him to make such a sickening claim,” Nandor’s voice is pure condescension.

Guillermo is silent for a beat, swallowing against the lump of emotion in his throat and blinking his eyes rapidly before looking his master in the eye and lying, “Of course not, master.”

Nandor nods in satisfaction and he swings down into his coffin. But he tastes the edge of human sadness beginning to taint the air of the room and he frowns. Hadn’t this whole mess started because he was trying to get rid of the sad human smell? He is caught in one of those hog day loops!

Nandor hesitates, scowling as he chooses his words, “But… I am sorry about the axes. It wasn’t my idea. And… and… I would have been really sad if you had died, because you’re...special to me, Guillermo.”

Nandor lets the words hang in the air for a moment, watching the start of a smile curling his familiar’s lips before shaking his head and waving a hand in front of Guillermo’s face in a flourish, “You will forget about that last thing I just said.”

#nandermo #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #wwdits fanfic #wwdits

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yoshimickster · 5 years

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RWBY VOL 6 Episode 3 “The Lost Fable”-THE ULTIMATE ORIGIN OF ULTIMATE DARKNESS-Recap

HEY EVERYBODY-how’s you’re day going? My computer blue-screened RIGHT BEFORE I could hit save so I’m gonna redo the WHOLE thing. Remember to save folks. EITHER WEITHER-let’s get to Mickster Recap!

The episode starts out with BACKSTORY TIME-where its revealed Salem was a princess locked away in a castle by her cruel father during the good old days, where the only thing keeping her busy is manipulating arcane magic.

2:07 Salem: *SIGH* What good is being able to shoot energy blasts if there’s no bad guy to blast them with?!

BUT LUCKILY-a HERO arrives on the scene-TO RESCUE THE FAIR DAMSEL-and his NAME-

-was OZ...ma. Ozma was his name...does he just happen to reincarnate into anyone with the syllable “oz” or “ma” in their name? THAT is a weird rule.

ALSO-look at confused as fuck Qrow here, he’s all “Uh...hi.” OH-he’s gonna drink himself into a coma after all of this is done.

BUT-not only does Ozma BRAVE the evil forces of the castle to reach Salem for ONLY pure motives(Jinn said so so its true)-HE ALSO-

2:49 LET’S SALEM IN ON THE BLASTING-like a TRUE gentleman!

The act of kindness of giving her her freedom, and Salem...just being Salem, cause the two to FALL in love!

3:13 ....aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand kiss! KISS! KISS DAMMIT! Seriously, what IS IT with this show and its “No-kissing” policy, its WEIRD.

Either weither, Salem and Ozma go off on LOADS of adventures-UNTIL-

3:36-when Ozma got sick with a FATAL case of “Unnamed TV disease”. CURSE YOU UNNAMED TV DISEASE-you’ve taken FAR too many lives!

Salem in her grief decides to seek out the god of Light and Creation in the LAND of light(what is this Homestuck?)to bring him back to life-AND-

4:38 -it is DOWNRIGHT beautiful, obviously inspired by Japanese scenery and it just WORKS. SHAME this is where the doom of man kind came to begin.

The god of light than reveals himself to Salem, WHO REVEALS HIMSELF TO BE-

4:51 ANTLER JESUS-a WEIRD mix of Japanese deer spirits, and as I’ve said-JESUS-

-SEE?! Water-walking, full package.

Antler Jesus than gives Salem the same spiel we’ve heard about ressurecting the dead we’ve heard a million times, gotta respect the balance what-not, bla bla bla-GIVE HER BACK HER HUSBAND YOU MONSTER!

BUT-ol’ Mr.Light rose petals her away telling her to let it go, but ain’t NOTHIN’ gon’ stop her from getting her man back, so its time to make a DEAL with the devil in REMNANT HELL-

-which is also in its own way VERY beautiful, nice use of dark colors and purple, kinda looks like Cybertron when it was infected by Dark Energon!

Salem’s here to seek out the God of Darkness, whom after seeing Antler Jesus’ striking albeit minimalist god form, I’M SURE-the god of Darkness’ form isn’t utterly creep-

6:20 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAND welcome to your nightmares for the next few months folks, Purple Satan is here and he is HERE FOR YOUR SOUL!

Salem then asks Mauvisto(Get it, like Mephisto but with Mauve?) to bring back Ozma, ALL while not bringing up that she asked Antlers first. The dark being agrees because he’s just SO happy someone is giving him praise for once, why does his BROTHER get all the praise JUST because he didn’t create a race of empathic eldritch beasts whose only purpose is to cause as much misery and destruction as possible? Un-GRATE-ful is what those humans are!

Purple Haze than brings back Ozma-WITH-

6:57 THE POWER OF PURPLE! PRAISE HIS GRAPELY EMINENCE!

After Oz has a BRIEF freak-out over no longer being in the land of the dead-GUESS WHO SHOWS UP?!

*CRACKA BOOM*

7:12

Mauvisto: OKAY EVERYONE-party’s over, AJ’s gonna kill it with ANOTHER of his lectures.

AntlerJesus: Don’t you give me that tone.

Mauvisto: WHATEVER YOU’RE NOT EVEN MY DAD-GAH!

I joke, but that is BASICALLY how it went down.

AJ than rose-petals away Ozma to preserve order-

Oz:...S...Salem...I don’t feel so good.

Seriously y’all, I BETTER see some Thanos memes from this episode.

BUT-the elder brother forgets the younger brother still has the POWER OF PURPLE!

PRAISE TO THE PURPLE! Either way, Mauvisto is NOT happy about that which starts-

8:19 A DRAGON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT-or does it?!

ACTUALLY no, AJ tells Mauvisto that Salem went to HIM first, and after he told her he wouldn’t resurrect her hubby, she tryed to manipulate him into going behind AJ’s back. Mauvey than apologizes to his best bro the BEST way possible...WITH A PURPLE DEATH BLAST!

8:48

The Purple giveth, and the purple taketh away.

Salem is NOT happy about this, and EVEN tries to THREATEN the god’s with her magic-BUT-AntlerJesus than gives her a chance to cool off by-

9:15 ...drowning her from a million miles in the air. MAN-the Super God Bros don’t fuck a-ROUND do they?

9:26 ACTUALLY no, by dunking her in the pool of light, the Gods curse her with immortality, unable to see her sweet Baboo Ozma EVER again, and will only die once she accepts the importance of life and death.

Salem than does the most logical thing after being cursed by two immortal beings who think cursing someone with immortality is a COMPLETELY rational response to wasting like...WHAT five minutes of their time, AND RALLIES AN ARMY to take on the gods!

11:24 It should also be noted that this army...and all of humanity are just TWO WEEKS from retirement!

The army than BLASTS Mauvisto, with a beautiful display of firework-I MEAN-magic attacks-

11:56 I’m just gonna assume since it was the old days, people weren’t as creative with magic as they could be. BUT-because Mauvisto is a friggin’ GOD-

-he PURPLIZES all the magic into one handy dandy ball! What the hell CAN’T purple do?!

Either way, as an ancient omnipotent being, I’M SURE he’ll give them all a just and fair punishm-

12:12...OR just nuke everyone, whatever works for you Satanic Purple Beerus!

Salem of course due to her immortality is NOT ONLY the only one in her army to survive the blast, but ALSO the only HUMAN who survived the blast! GEEZE-Mauvisto, ain’t that a little harsh? I get it, you hate Salem, but what did all those side-characters who DIDN’T go against you do? BUT-enough about that-NAME ORIGIN TIME-

12:51 AntlerDragon: This planet, was a beautiful experiment, but it is merely a Remnant of what it once was.

DAH-they said the name of the continent-HUZZAH!

Either way, both bros decide to leave the planet to create OTHER Avatar meets Soul Eater meets X-men meets Harry Potter worlds. AJ leaves in a BEAUTIFUL yellow mist-

13:08

While Mauvisto leaves in the most OVER THE TOP way he POSSIBLY could.

Mauvisto: SUCK IT SHORTY!

13:21 HUH-guess Atlas Arcadium Rex DIDN’T destroy the moon from Rwby. Sorry folks, your shared universe headcanon is DEAD! DEAD!

13:41 Salem than takes a GOOD long walk throughout ALL of the planet now named Remnant, until after an ETERNITY of walking decides she deserves a GOOD soak!

14:04 IN the God of Darkness’s POOL of darkness! MMM-look at those bubbles, bet they’re NICE and warm!

But seriously, after EONS of roaming the Earth alone, she figures that since the fountain of life gave her eternal life, the pools of Grimm with finally kill her, ending her suffering...but we WEREN’T all so lucky were we?

INSTEAD-the pool recreates her from a being of infinite life, to a being of infinite life who wants PURE destruction!

14:33 DAMN she looks scary, and that’s not even her FINAL form!

A THEN CUT TO-

14:43

OZMA-having himself a NICE nap in the eternal void of nothingness! Honestly if I died, brought back to life, killed, brought back to life, and then killed a SECOND time I’d want one hell of a nap as well.

BUT-for realsies, AntlerJesus pulls Ozma into a void between worlds to curse him for all eternity to fight his now corrupted wife-I MEAN-give him a chance to return to the land of the living! Yeah...THAT! Where APPARENTLY humans will come back again in time...presumably...NOT made by the god of creation? SO...is this a world where humans are made by gods...OR evolution? HUH-well if THAT ain’t a neat bit of science-fantasy!

15:56

Its ALSO here where we learn what happens when all four relics are brought together, that they’ll summon BOTH god brothers back to Remnant and judge humanity. If they’s chill, its ALL good, but if they AIN’T chill-BYE BYE REMNANT!

Either way, despite hearing his honey Salem won’t be the same anymore, OZMA accepts and REINCARNATES INTO-

17:40 THIS GUY...whose name iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis?

18:01

Oz?: GRIMM STAB!

QUIT DODGING THE QUESTION YOU-what’s your name?!

Rando: Thank you! Please, tell me your name, who are you?

SEE-he’s got the right ideal-TELL US DAMN YOU!

18:17 Oscar:...he didn’t know.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH that sucks. I’m not sure if it means he over-wrote his host’s memories or what, either way the reaction on Oz’s face says it all.

AFTER the Grimm attack, Unnamed Ozma reincarnation takes a page out of his lady’s book and GOES on a walk, where he sees the world has CHANGED completely!

With LACKLUSTER architecture-

-enSLAVEment of the new Faunus race and WORST of all-

18:33 -PEOPLE HAD TO USE DUST INSTEAD OF MAGIC!

Blake:...why wasn’t my people’s early enslavement not saved for last? Like it was only the SECOND worst thing?

Jinn: Look I just put it in order of what he saw okay, gimme a break!

Turns out, only Ozma2 and a MYSTERIOUS woman known only as “The Witch” could do magic, WHERE SHE IS FOUND-

18:41 In this GHETTO ass shack! COME ON SALEM-you’re immortal, you seriously tryna tell me you don’t got time to make a nicer house?!

Ozma2 than logically assumes the witch is Salem and goes to see what she has become, AND IT IS REVEALED-

Ozma2:(OH NO SHE’S HOT!)

19:27 AND it turns out that both of them recognize each other-CAUSE THAT’S THE POWER OF LOVE!

Salem and Ozma than tell each other all the CRAZY shenanigans that have been going down in their lives while hiding their SECRET backstories-WHILE THEY ALSO-

19:40 -FINALLY fix up that old shack! Fixed up the windows, got a deck table and chairs, re-varnished the wood, if THAT don’t help out property values I don’t know WHAT will!

Also during their convo Salem fearing Ozma would hate her, blamed the end of the world SOLELY on the gods...well...I mean TECHNICALLY it was, she raised only ONE small army against the gods, and instead of punishing JUST those humans they killed EVERYBAH-I feel she could be honest.

The days went by, Salem and Ozma enjoyed their happy lives, having logically an INFINITE amount of sex, until one day SALEM SAID(paraphrased)

20:18

Salem: Okay hear me out, WHAT IF-we act like gods, and be the NEW AntlerJesus and Mauvisto?!

Ozma:...okay I am SO sure that won’t work but I am INSANELY attracted to you so LET’S DO IT!

21:07 SO it appears they live on as gods and nothing else crazy happe-

21:33...bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbby MAIDENS! THE FOUR MAIDENS WERE THE DAUGHTERS OF OZMA AND SALEM! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY god damned shit-THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING-probably, for all we know Oz gave four COMPLETELY DIFFERENT young girls magical powers. But enough about that-

21:38 LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT HOW LOVING THEY LOOK! CURSE YOU ANTLER JESUS AND MAUVISTO-the world is FUCKED because you refused to let my new OTP be HAPPY!

But sadly, all good things must come to an end, as during their plans Ozma has second thoughts on their quest to reshape the world given the destruction they cause, which PROMPTS Oz-

22:02 -to start, with the maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan in the mirror (OH YEAH) and he’s asking him to chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange his ways(COME ON CHANGE)!

But for realsies, he then remembers the great quest the god of light gave him-BUT THEN-

22:21 DAW-baby’s first use of the dark arts!

HRNGH-LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HOW PROUD SHE IS OF HER BABY GIRL! DAMMIT SALEM-you’re supposed to be the evil Sorceress Supreme, you have NO business looking adorable!

SO-I guess they go their magic powers from their parents, I wander what else they go-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT IF-Oz’s daughters didn’t just inherit their magic...BUT ALSO-Oz’s CURSE to forever reincarnate across the Earth like he did?! THAT’S WHY THEIR CONNECTED TO THE FOUR RELICS-probably, like I said there’s still the possibility of the story still be being true-HELL-maybe the maiden spell merged the four girls souls with those of his daughters?

AFTER the adorablenes, Ozma FINALLY decides to be an honest husband for once and tells Salem of the four relics and the judgement day that would occur if they were ever brought together, which Salem basically responds with-

22:51 Salem: You know what?! Let’s take the relics and make our OWN human race, with BLACKJACK! AND HOOKERS! And you know what? FORGET THE HUMAN RACE! KILL ALL HUMANS!

Yes, I am now headcanoning Salem as witch Bender from now all on-TRY AND STOP ME!

This logically upsets Oz, so he decides to calmly and rationally talk with his wife-

...OR take the kids and run without telling her only to get caught, because LORD KNOWS he couldn’t just get a marriage counselor to talk about their problems...seriously, this was ye olden times, the concept probably wasn’t invented yet.

22:34And sadly, it appears this is where everything ended between Ozma and Salem-

23:42 LITERALLY EVEN-everything between them in the castle has been destroyed! INCLUDING-

...don’t...don’t make me make a joke about this sub-conscious...tis too sad.

The battle/divorce ends with Salem winning RIGHT before saying this-

23:58 “...we finally...had freedom.”

AND...there’s TWO ways to look at that. That either A.) With the knowledge of the god’s relics, they could do the same thing the god’s did but without their rules or the metaphorical outlook B.) They were free BEFORE Oz told her about the relics...because than the god’s power wouldn’t keep controlling their lives. The latter I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean but to me...I think that’s true.

Salem than finally takes out Ozma2-

-with a Super SMASH bros meme no less! Don’t lie, you know who you are Gifmakers, AND YOU DISGUST ME! PERISH IN FLAMES!

After this, Oz takes the break up PRETTY badly-

24:10 -going on sad graveyard walks-

24:17 Drinking near paintings of empty liquor bottles.

24:21 ULTIMATELY getting out of his funk when he reincarnates as a nice swarthy individual and a bad ass new cane!

Even finally starts dating again and settles down with this nice lady, WAY TO GET BACK ON THAT HORSE BUDDY! BUT-just like in real life, the evidence of his ex STILL haunted his life-

24:37 In the form of monster raids no less! That’s break-up aftermath for ya.

Oz than realizes he has to bury the ex(literally) and goes out to find the FOUR RELICS-

25:00 ...in his next life as a hipster for some reason! Cleh, he’s an immortal soul-symbiote, he has time.

He seeks out knowledge first and asks her where the other relics are, what could they do, and how could he kill Salem(in that order)? The first two answers we don’t know...but the THIRD one one we do-

Jinn: You can’t.

And the episode ends-

-with Oscarpin giving himself a good sit in despair.

So...yeah...HOLY SHIT-there’s a lot to take away here! For ONE-its interesting noting how tragic a villain Salem was, and how Oz spent so much time avoiding his fate because he just wanted to be with the woman he loved. FURTHERMORE-its neat how Salem is now like, Lord Garmadon in that destructive impulses BURN through her veins...but also like Lord Garmadon, she was still able to love. Sadly though...her worse impulses got the best of her, and now she has nothing to do but move forward and Thanos the planet, because there is NO going back to the good old days.

I’m Yoshimickster, and this was Micksterecap, and I hope your lives are filled with joy and happiness, and that you don’t become the toys of fate. Thank you, and have a pleasant night.

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