#nightmare ophelia

[starrletnight]

AH!!! BOO!!! IM OLDER NOW!!! me and all my faves, going ham, celebrating!!! thank you everynyan, as well <3

[gourde]

[hyperfixation-polls]

Okay so like hyper fixation switch and shit and like this is off of my normal posting, but okay Wednesday right, god I love that show! And I was just thinking about it and the new Percy jackson show and I mean I just found it so funny because like Enid totally gives off like iris kid energy in my mind, that or hebe, but iris with all her rainbows and then Wednesday could totally be a hades kid but like imagine nyx kid Wednesday, so like rainbows and darkness and like damn what’s more queer then that! Lol I love it! But on a more serious note with it, I also love the idea of either her being a daughter of Hecate, but like it totally tracks, or a daughter of Melinoë (daughter of hades and goddess of like ghosts and nightmares and shit!) like that’s totally fits Wednesdays vibe!

[glowfrogs]

remember you will die

i'd been struggling with gameplay, so i'm giving the nightmare legacy a try starting with ophelia.

[thanos-the-dad-titan]

[hartxstarr-art]

her name is ophelia. shes a bit of an handful at the worst of times but thats okay because shes cute <- her own perception

[hotniatheron]

The dream I had one time about Hamlet being turned into a ballet and the pas de deux was with himself in the mirrors and Horatio behind him, unseen

[birbycakes]

finished one playthrough of Scarlet Hollow. I def want to play around with it More to find my optimal self insert route, but I gotta say... I'm loving whatever the hell Wayne has going on. And Reese. And Avery seems to really Understand me, I like them. And I enjoyed the flirting with Oscar if you're both hot and booksmart. I like Kaneeka too, I should really have Erika focus on romancing her. They'd be cute together. And Stella... idk how to feel about her. I was feeling like she could be bestie material but she was Weird in that last scene. I need to figure out how to get the moment where she and Tabby reconcile, I totally missed it. Probably needed to call her- I did but went back. I was about to Tame the Beast in Reese when she fucking burst in and shot him and I burst out laughing. I love Tabby so much.

[raccoon-with-a-pencil]

Info dump for Ophelia, Mercenary, and Devi!

Ophelia

- She eventually becomes a giant woman (like 6'4?)

- She was inspired in part by Sweeny Todd (her favorite musical)

- Although she is outgoing, she only has two friends. Their names are Scar and Rainbow Pudding. Both were made by a friend of mine.

- Ophelia is the start of a crack ship kid creating spree. I eventually want to introduce her half sister as well! (A Lust x Bird kid)

- If someone threatens her friends she would probably bite them. There is not a doubt in my mind that Ophelia isn't feral.

- Even though she talks a lot, she's good at keeping secrets if she wants to. For the most part

Mercenary

- Merc spends a lot of his time doing small deals for people

- The inspiration for his personality is "The Other Side" from the Greatest Showman. This is similar to how he meets the other gremlins to come.

- His preferred weapon type is literally anything he can turn into a weapon. Ex: A bat, pipe, random thing he found on the ground.

- The singular eye light he has is in the shape of a cross hair, like his parasite.

- If he kills someone, he lets his parasite eat their soul. It won't waste a good meal.

- Can and will murder anyone who tries to backstab him.

- Definitely mixes slang terms and talking habits of his parents. Like "The concrete shoes, my man"

Devi

- Their name is supposed to be short for Sleep Deprived. This is a nod to if you stay awake for too long you'll go insane.

- At first, touch scares them. They've been alone for as long as they can remember and struggle to understand it, but once you get to know them it's okay in moderation.

- Devi has to be one of the saddest gremlins I've made. Since just seeing the name of their parents causes concern.

- one of the reasons they don't talk is because they grew up alone and didn't need to talk to get by

- They have nightmares sometimes and doesn't really like to sleep because of it.

- Devi finds the sound of water soothing. They favor the sounds of rivers and brooks over anything else.

Other characters to come

- Xi (Reaper x Outer)

- Linux (Error x Bird)

- Smokey (G x Ink)

- Sachi (Error x Dream)

Unnamed Characters (taking suggestions for names. They may be scrapped though)

- Bird x Lust

- Horror x Sci

- Swap x Killer

- Dust/murder X Chess

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! -18

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Warning: Tragedy, Angst, Manipulation, Intimidation

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Everything related to Celestial Enterprises has fallen to the ground. Once a conglomerate company, now it’s just a name.

You watch everything on the TV beside Cassandra's bed. She’s still weak since the incident. Reading the headlines about Celestial, you say, “We won, Grandma. Wish you could see it.”

Then the door opens, and Bucky comes in with flowers in his hand. He smiles at you, “How is she?”

You glance at Cassandra and sigh, “Every time I come by, she gets tired easily and falls asleep. But the nurse and doctor said she’s getting better.”

Bucky nods, understanding all too well. He went through the same phase—his trauma triggered, and he got drowned in his nightmares again.

“Give her a moment,” Bucky says gently.

He steps closer, placing the flowers in a vase on the bedside table. You notice the care in his actions, the way he adjusts the petals so they look just right. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world in a place like this.

“Have you eaten?” Bucky asks, turning his attention back to you.

“No,” you admit, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on your shoulders.

“Then let’s get something to eat,” he suggests, his tone leaving no room for argument. He offers his hand, and you take it, grateful for the support. You glance at his hand, noting the absence of gloves. The gesture strikes you—evidence that he’s moved past his trauma.

As both of you leave the room, you take one last look at Cassandra. The door closes softly behind you. Unseen by you, Cassandra’s eyes flutter open. She clenches the blanket with her hand, her grip strong and determined.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

At the Hospital

All the hard work that Jonathan has poured into Celestial Enterprises has come to nothing. Losing the company has shattered his soul more than losing Ophelia ever did. The company was his life, the reason why he breathed.

It doesn’t stop there. It turns out his wife, Genevieve, is related to a criminal mastermind who kidnapped Bucky. Not only is he bankrupt, but he also married a woman with a criminal past. Genevieve is on her knees, tears streaming down her face as she begs for his forgiveness.

“I had no part in it,” she sobs. “I didn’t know.”

Jonathan, still stuck in the hospital bed, looks at her with pure disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

Genevieve’s heart sinks. The only person in this world who could help her is him. She doesn’t understand why she’s connected to Bucky’s kidnapping. She wasn’t involved at all. Victoria is gone, and all their assets are frozen because of the bankruptcy.

She has no friends left to ask for help. The socialites who once fawned over her now shun her. Desperation clings to her like a second skin as she looks around the sterile hospital room, searching for a lifeline.

“You have to believe me,” Genevieve pleads, her voice breaking. “I didn’t know about Bucky. I never would have—”

Jonathan interrupts her, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “You’re nothing but a parasite. I should have seen it from the start. You latched onto me, thinking you could rise above your sordid past. But you’ve dragged me down into the mud with you.”

Genevieve’s eyes widen in shock and anger. “How dare you? After everything I’ve done for you, for this family?”

Jonathan sneers. “Done for me? You’ve done nothing but ruin everything you touch. You’re a cancer, Genevieve. And now, because of you, everything I’ve built is gone.”

Her hands shake with fury and desperation. “You think you’re so perfect? You think you’re blameless in all this? All of this happened because of your daughter!"

Jonathan’s eyes flash with anger. “Get out. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

Genevieve’s vision blurs with rage and hurt. In a moment of blind fury, she grabs a syringe from the nearby tray and stabs it into Jonathan’s chest. He gasps, eyes wide with shock and pain.

A nurse, who just entered to check on Jonathan, sees the attack and screams, “Security! Help!”

Genevieve looks at the horror-struck nurse, then at Jonathan, whose eyes are starting to glaze over. Panic takes over. She pulls the syringe out and drops it, her hands covered in blood.

Without thinking, she bolts from the room, running through the hospital corridors. Alarms blare, and footsteps echo as security personnel rush to intercept her.

Genevieve’s mind races as she runs, knowing she has nowhere to go and no one left to turn to. The life she once knew is in ruins, and now she’s on the run, a fugitive from the consequences of her own desperation and rage.

The news traveled fast, and you soon heard that Jonathan got hurt again, this time because of his own wife. “Wow, karma,” you muttered under your breath.

You touched your grandma's hand, still resting as she slept. “He got what he deserved. Now all that's left is that woman.”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was a call from the hospital. Answering it, you heard the voice of Jonathan’s doctor on the other end.

“Your father is in a coma,” the doctor said gravely.

You felt a surge of emotions but quickly composed yourself. Before leaving, you kissed Cassandra’s forehead gently. “I’ll be back soon, Grandma,” you whispered.

Arriving at the hospital, you walked through the sterile corridors to Jonathan’s room. The sight of him, lifeless and hooked up to machines, brought a strange mix of satisfaction and pity.

You leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “All those years, you ignored me, abandoned me. Now look at you. Helpless. Everything you built is gone. Your wife betrayed you, your company is ruined, and your precious Victoria is gone. This is the end for you. You did this to yourself.”

You let the words sink in, hoping he could somehow hear the pain and anger you had been carrying for so long. After you finished, you straightened up, feeling a strange sense of closure.

Just then, your phone rang again. This time, it was the nurse from Cassandra’s care facility.

“Your grandmother is missing,” the nurse said, her voice frantic.

“What? How could she go missing?” you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.

You hurried out of the hospital, trying to think where she could have gone. The streets seemed to blur as you drove, your mind racing with worry and fear.

“Where could she be?” you whispered, hoping for a miracle.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Genevieve went to Valerie's studio to hide and to find the secret stash of money she had hidden there. She needed it to run away, to call in old favors for a new identity and passport. As she hurriedly prepared to leave, her hands shaking with a mix of fear and desperation, a pair of scissors fell, landing perilously close to her fingers.

“Oops. My hand slipped,” came a cold, calm voice.

Genevieve shrieked, her eyes widening in horror as she saw Cassandra standing in front of her, a chilling smile on her face.

“Hii!!!” Genevieve shrieked, shocked to the core.

Cassandra’s eyes were icy and piercing. “You’ve taken my daughter’s life, stolen the childhood of my granddaughter. Now it’s your turn to live in hell.”

Genevieve backed away, trembling. “You…you’re crazy!” she stammered.

Cassandra stepped closer, her voice steady and unyielding. “You ruined everything. Jonathan was a fool to fall for you, but you knew exactly what you were doing.”

Genevieve tried to muster some defiance. “Jonathan loved me!”

Cassandra laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “Love? You don’t know the meaning of the word. You manipulated him, tore our family apart, and for what? Power? Money?”

Genevieve's face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this to me! I won’t let you!”

In a swift motion, Cassandra slapped Genevieve across the face. “Aww,” Genevieve whimpered, holding her stinging cheek. She couldn’t believe this old woman had the nerve to strike her, and the fact that Cassandra’s expression remained unchanged was even more unsettling.

Now Genevieve understood where your temperament came from. Not from Jonathan, or even from your late mother, but from Cassandra.

“You won’t get away with this,” Genevieve hissed, trying to sound brave.

Cassandra’s eyes bore into hers, unflinching. “Oh, but I already have. Your life as you know it is over. You have nowhere to run, no one to turn to. You’re alone, just like you made us feel.”

Genevieve's bravado crumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra shook her head slowly. “It’s too late for apologies. You’ll pay for what you’ve done. Enjoy your hell, Genevieve.”

The fight between Genevieve and Cassandra continued to rage on, a chaotic blend of anger and desperation. The studio echoed with the sounds of their struggle—Genevieve's frantic, panicked shouts and Cassandra's fierce, unrelenting movements.

Genevieve, despite her earlier bravado, was struggling. She tried to fend off Cassandra’s relentless attacks, but the old woman was surprisingly strong.

Each time Genevieve attempted to counterattack, Cassandra met her with a forceful push or a sharp jab, her movements precise and driven by years of suppressed rage. Genevieve’s face was contorted in fear and disbelief as she realized Cassandra was far more formidable than she had anticipated.

Suddenly, the sound of sirens pierced through the air. The studio door burst open, and a flood of police officers, followed by you and Bucky, stormed in. The sight before them stopped everyone in their tracks.

You and Bucky exchanged stunned glances. Despite her age, Cassandra fought with a raw, unfiltered strength that defied her appearance. Her face was a mask of determined fury, each movement fueled by years of pent-up anger and pain.

Genevieve, on the other hand, was visibly shaken, her attempts at resistance growing increasingly desperate as Cassandra's relentless assault continued.

The police officers hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to intervene without escalating the situation further. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and stepped forward.

“Grandma! Stop!” you commanded, your voice echoing through the studio.

Cassandra paused, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and turned to face you. Her eyes, usually so calm and composed, were now blazing with the intensity of her emotions. For a moment, she seemed to waver, the anger in her eyes softening just slightly.

Bucky moved quickly, stepping between the two women, his presence commanding and authoritative. “Everyone, calm down,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re taking you both into custody.”

Genevieve, now visibly trembling, clutched her bleeding cheek, her bravado shattered. She looked at you with fear and resignation, realizing that her escape plan had crumbled.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@cjand10

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

@evie-119

@mrsstuckyboo

@ghalouha

@iamasimpingh0e

@loki-laufeyson68

@buckybarnessimpp

@milllieeee

@stormy-stardust

@ashdoctor

@mushycore

@crazyunsexycool

@anixerz

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@sidraaaaaaaaa

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

sThanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[randomclownsheep]

I have to stop reading Nevermore with my mind elsewhere because how come i re read this chapter a million times and just now realized the Ophelia reference?

She's quoting Hamlet, more specifically Ophelia's flower speech. A scene where Ophelia is believed to be mad, she had a breakdown after her father's death similarly to how Annabel Lee had a breakdown after Lenore's "death". Not only that, but she's sumerged in water during the whole scene. How did my girl Ophelia died? That's right, the bitch drowned

Her clothes spread wide

And mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up,

Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds,

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element.

Maybe I'm reading too much into this out of excitement, but this reminds me a whole lot to how Annabel Lee is quoting old poems as she tries to ignore the shadowy figure of Lenore and her own feelings of distress. "Like a creature native and indued unto that element" like how Annabel is in a constant state of impending doom, so much so that when Ada shows her her worst nightmare (which happens to be again, Lenore's shadowy figure) she seems completely unbothered by the outside viewer. She's used to that feeling and so she learned to mask it.

Anyways, I love this chapter, the best chapter ever. I'm embarrassed for not noticing the connection after reading it like six times.

[glowfrogs]

stress hitting the memento house hard

[in1-nutshell]

Honestly just any of the tfp opposite personality daughters and their dads reaction on getting a partner.  One of my favorite tropes, when done right, is the overprotective father simply because their realizing that their little girl is growing up

Optimus feels like he’d be totally okay with Maxima dating as long as their partner treats her well, he’s just big an intimidating so he accidentally scares the partner

Ratchet is the exact opposite.  He still remembers when she would cling to him after a nightmare, when she was small enough to hold with one servo, WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S DATING SHE'S TOO YOUNG FOR THAT (she’s a grown adult)

Ultra magnus is intimidating and means to be intimidating.  If someone wants to court his daughter they're going to need to reach his expectations and then some.  And while he does apply these same expectations to everyone, and as long as they're trying and not actively going against them, then he’ll be as lenient as he’s capable of being.  Unless you’re trying to date his daughter, then you better fucking exceed his impossibly high expectations.

Steve gets a pass because Ophilia’s dads a dick.  Though having Bee offhandedly mention Ophilia’s conjux to Optimus and Ratchet would be funny.  Or fuck it, mtmte Megatron just gets thrown threw a portal and now steve does have to pass a megatron who actually cares about his daughter’s judgment.  He’s too old for this, he’s just happy that Ophilia found someone that makes her happy.

How have I not thought about this?!?!

Well that's going to change right now!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima, Lithia, Rapidfire, and Ophelia's dad's/guardian's react to their partners

SFW, Familial, Romance, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP/RiD 2015/MTMTE

Maxima

Overall, if Optimus caught wind that Maxima did have feelings for a fellow bot, he would be one of the most accepting on this list about the news.

Of course, there’s that little side that he can’t believe his kid is growing up.

His little bean is becoming big!

But does well in accepting it and supporting Maxima.

As long as the bot loves her, respects her, and treats her well there isn’t going to be a problem.

Optimus trust Maxima in picking her partner, but also wouldn’t mind playing match maker if it was okay.

 (Maxima and Grimlock)

 Grimlock isn’t too worried when it’s the meet and greet time.

He does have some confidence in himself and in the relationship, he built with Maxima.

Yes, there is some intimidation.

It’s Optimus Prime for crying out loud!

Not that Optimus is aware he is doing it.

Our fellow dinobot may do some goofy things to try and impress Optimus and show off to him and Maxima that he does have what it takes to be a good Conjunx.

But the display of strength is not what gives Grimlock the green light.

It was a little moment the Prime had accidentally stumbled on that did.

Maxima and Grimlock are standing in one of the aisles of the scrapyard.

Maxima has a bit of a worried look on her faceplate looking at her Conjunx.

“Grim you’ve been acting a bit weird today, especially with the hit you took earlier. Is everything okay?”--Maxima

Grimlock puffs his chassis.

“Of course I am! What kind of Conjunx would I be if I wasn’t strong enough!”--Grimlock

“Grim you took a steel column to the back when you were showboating earlier.”--Maxima

“But I’m okay ain’t I?”--Grimlock

Maxima sighs a bit and sits on the floor, patting the side next to her.

Grimlock sits down next to her.

Maxima pulls him by the neckcables down, so his helm is on her lap.

“You can talk to me Grimlock.”--Maxima

She starts petting his helm gently, watching his dino optics sagging a bit.

“I just wanted to show I was a strong Conjunx for ya that’s all.”--Grimlock

Maxima chuckles a bit.

“Grim, you were showboating your strength because you were afraid my dad was going to say something? My spark, you could be at a quarter of your strength and I would still love you the same.”--Maxima

Grimock’s tail absent mindedly starts to wag a bit.

“You would?”--Grimlock

“Of course I would. You could be human, and I would still love you. I love you for being yourself Grimlock. For being the goofy, loyal, and honest partner you are. Your strength is an added bonus.”--Maxima

“Even me being a dinobot?”--Grimlock

“Yes, another added bonus. I mean how many bots can brag about being Conjunxed to a Dinobot? Not many, and I’m lucky enough to be one of the few to do it.”--Maxima

They both chuckle a bit before looking at each other’s optics.

“Primus I love you.”--Grimlock

“I love you too my spark. Now I think Russel wanted to show the rest of the team a movie with Earth Dinosaurs in it, you ready to see it?”--Maxima

Grimlock jumps up and picks up Maxima bridal style and runs off with a laughing Maxima.

Optimus walks from behind some of the taller shelves with a warm smile on his face.

His sparkling was in good servos.

Lithia

Ratchet is one of the bots that does not take the news of the crush well.

Yes, he is aware that Lithia is an adult, and this is her life, but he still sees the sparkling that carried a mini replica of his med kit and tried to replicate his paintjob at 3 am.

Ratchet is slower to come to terms with the fact that Lithia is growing up and has someone on her mind.

Eventually he does give in to the idea and tries to be open-minded on Lithia’s potential partner.

If he doesn’t know the bot, Ratchet is much more likely to be snappier and colder to them.

If he does know the bot it can be a good thing if they are on his good side. This could lead to Ratchet himself even putting in a good word for them.

If they are on his bad side, Ratchet is going to do whatever it takes to try and get Lithia to seek out other possible partners out there.

(Lithia and Bumblebee)

Ratchet isn’t blind when he sees Lithia giving some long looks and Bee being in proximity of her in their early days on Earth.

Ratchet is surprised when he does meet up with the pair again and they are not Conjunxed.

Ratchet watching from a far at Bumblebee and Lithia discussing about something when Optimus comes by.

“Is there a problem old friend?”—Optimus

Ratchet sighs a bit seeing the pair laughing a bit.

“I would have guessed they would have bonded by now.”—Ratchet

Optimus hums in agreement.

“You’re not the only one who sees it?!”—Sideswipe

Some of the other team comes over.

“They have been giving each other gushy eyes forever!”--Russel

“Gushy eyes?”--Grimlock

“Earth term.”—Strongarm

They all pause hearing much louder laughter from Bumblebee and Lithia looking at him with the ‘gushy eyes’.

“Someone needs to get them together soon or I’m going to have a meltdown.”—Sideswipe

Denny looks at Ratchet and Optimus.

“How long has this thing been going?”--Denny

Ratchet and Optimus having a flashback to the pairs time at the base and the kids trying and failing to play match maker.

“Believe me, you do not want to know.”--Ratchet

Bumblebee is one of the only bots that Ratchet didn’t mind if Lithia decided to bond with.

He might do a little snooping on why they haven’t bonded yet.

Overall, Ratchet does approve of the scout being with his sparkling.

Rapidfire

Excuse me she has a what?

Yeah, Magnus does not take the news too well.

This is unfamiliar territory for Magnus and does not know how to grapple with it.

So naturally he falls on his fail safe.

Rules and regulations.

Primus help the bot in his vision.

He has extremely high expectations for this bot

Even gives them a list of requirements to even be considered a candidate.

Will this trigger a fight between the two?

Absolutely

Will it be pretty?

Most likely no

Magnus may loosen up a bit with the rules of dating, but he is 110% doing a background check on the bots history during the war and see if they have any charges against them.

(Still haven't thought of a pairing for her yet)

Ophelia

Poor Steve…

Good news for Steve…

He doesn’t have to deal with Megatron, already being a saint compared to the former war lord.

Bad news for Steve…

He has to deal with more than one meet and greet.

Optimus had received a message from Micronus Prime that his niece had a Conjunx one day during training.

Optimus wants to know who it is.

He is given a bit of time off his training to see what Ophelia and her Conjunx.

Ophelia and Steve are fixing things in their new home.

Steve is trying to hang something on top of the door frame from a stool.

Ophelia is looking through some of the gifts that they received from the bonding ceremony.

“Steve, lets take a break and finish in a bit.”--Ophelia

“Hold on sweet sparks, I almost… got… it—AAHH!”--Steve

BANG!

Optimus winces a bit at the sound.

Steve had fallen over and was now laying on his back groaning.

Ophelia leaps up from her place and runs over to her fallen Conjunx.

“Steve!”--Ophelia

She carefully places his helm on her lap.

He looks up at his beautiful Conjunx, the light hitting behind her helm creating a halo effect.

“Stevie you okay?”--Ophelia

“I’m fine Sweet Spark.”--Steve

“Hmm, and what were you trying to hang on the door frame anyway?”--Ophelia

Steve holds a metal looking plant above their helms.

“Surprise?”--Steve

Ophelia looks at the plant and softly gasps.

“Is that metal mistletoe?”--Ophelia

“Yep, made it myself. Figured a bit of Earth in the place wouldn’t be too bad.”--Steve

Ophelia leans and presses her helm on his.

“How did I get so lucky?”--Ophelia

“You get lucky? How did I get lucky?”--Steve

They both laugh.

Optimus approves.

When Optimus does come back and meets the pair, he does give his approval to the pair.

Poor Steve was going to pass out.

But that also brings Ratchet into the picture.

As said with Lithia, he is a bit more hesitant in seeing the bot, especially since Steve was a Con.

But with some good words in from Optimus and Bumblebee, Ratchet does give Steve a chance.

He was sold when he saw the pair helping each other patch up and working together to help the others while knowing their limits.

“Steve, you move from that berth and I will wield you to the counter.”--Ophelia

“Is that a promise?”--Steve

Ophelia with the wielding torch in servo with an optic raised.

Steve shrinks a bit at his Conjunx.

“Staying on the berth… if you join me?”--Steve

“When I finish looking over the main frame and the--”—Ophelia

Steve groans and dramatically drapes his arm over his optics.

“The berth is so lonely without you here! How could you abandon your Conjunx here in solitude!”—Steve

He peaks to see if his performance had worked.

Ophelia smiles and joins Steve in the berth.

Is there a slight threat of burying him in a mound of wrenches.

No one can prove it.

Bonus!

MTMTE Megatron lands in the scrapyard and nearly starts a riot/panic.

The worst time for Bee and Steve to be out on patrol, luckily Ophelia is there to explain her father’s counterpart to the team.

Ophelia is in much better spirits from the last time he saw her.

Then comes the topic of her personal life in which Ophelia proudly tells him that she has a Conjunx named Steve.

Little record scratch noise is coming from inside MTMTE Megatron’s helm.

That’s the moment when Steve arrives with Bee and nearly faints seeing a much more robust and taller Megatron.

Steve spots Ophelia standing way too close to Megatron.

“Ophelia!”--Steve

Steve races over and grabs Ophelia pushing her behind him reading his weapon at the larger mech.

“I don’t know how you came back Megatron, but there is no way you’re getting Ophelia back. OVER MY OFFLINE CORPSE!”--Steve

Ophelia pushes down the urge to hug Steve for his stupid bravery and gets in between him and Megatron, who has finally recognized that this drone was Ophelia’s Conjunx.

“Steve, Stevie this isn’t our Megatron. This is the good Megatron that I was telling you about.”--Ophelia

Steve slowly puts his weapon down, but not away.

“You mean the one that surrendered and—”--Steve

“The giant ship, yes. That’s him. Umm, Megatron, this is Steve, my Conjunx.”--Ophelia

Megatron smiles a bit and extends his servo.

“Steve.”--Megatron

Steve carefully shakes his servo.

“Megatron. I, umm, forgive me for the introduction—”--Steve

“No need for that. I am glad my daughter has a Conjunx who will fight and protect her with his spark.”--Megatron

With more interactions with the couple, Megatron can safely say that his daughter has a good Conjunx.

Steve is glad that there is at least one good Megatron that loves Ophelia like a father should.

When Megatron does leave, he makes sure to wish the couple the best (and a tiny threat to Steve about breaking Ophelia’s spark, which was backed up with Steve saying he would let him hurt him if that happened).

Bonus! Bonus!

“Hey Megs! How was the trip?”--Rodimus

Megatron huffs a bit at Rodimus’s comment.

“It certainly was one to remember.”--Megatron

“Did you get time with Ophelia?”--Rodimus

“Yes.”--Megatron

“And? How is the little one doing?”--Rodimus

Megatron smiles a bit.

“She has a Conjunx now.”--Megatron

Everybot jumps in shock when they hear the yelling over the intercom.

“OPHELIA HAS A CONJUNX!?”--Rodimus

Poor Roddy, does not know what he just unleashed on the Lost Light…

[fleetingvow]

may you please do Wednesday comforting a reader after a nightmare? maybe the reader got attacked by the hyde and it won't leave her mind so she often gets plagued by nightmares

‘ DEAD OF NIGHT .

Wednesday Addams x Female Reader.

SYNOPSIS. in which you and wednesday open up to each other as comfort after you woke up from a nightmare, replaying the moments in the forest when the hyde attacked you not so long ago. ( 3.02k words )

WARNINGS. slight angst. unproofread. spoilers to those who haven’t finished the series yet. english is not the author’s first language.

NOTE. written in second person’s point of view. wednesday being an absolute in-denial simp cult-leader slash worshipper of the reader. teotfw reference.

REQUESTED BY. anonymous. thank you so much for sending a request! i hope you enjoy!

TABLE OF CONTENTS. you can find my masterlist by clicking this link. my requests are open, so feel free to send in anything you want me to write.

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗦 and a swipe on the door and Wednesday immediately knew. She stood up from her chair to open the door that creaked as she did so, and there you were in all your grace, looking pale and dead. A sight for sore eyes yet certainly unwell. Who wouldn’t be if they were mad enough to ask to leave the ICU before being completely healed?

She arched an eyebrow in question, watching as you scanned the room behind her and the empty corridors of Ophelia Hall.

“Can I stay here for the night?” You asked, slightly shivering from the cold in your dark red pyjamas. She looked at you from head to toe, furrowing her eyebrows when she noticed how exhausted you looked, even with your posture.

Wednesday only nodded quietly before making room for you to walk in, making your way silently to the bed, and cautious not to wake Enid from her needed slumber on the other side of the dorm. She shut the door and turned to you, not moving from her spot.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” you mumbled. “As to why I’m here.” You sat on the foot of the bed, meeting her gaze.

“Don’t.” She replied. The wood creaked underneath her as she walked towards the dark wooden closet that almost resembled a coffin — almost. Her next move bewildered you as she grabbed a black jacket from her wardrobe and gave it to you without another word.

She resorted to her typewriter, typing away as you reluctantly slipped the jacket on your body, providing you the perfect warmth after a chilling moment alone in the corridors. “You’re putting extra time on your novel,” you mumbled as you fixed the sleeves, looking away from the girl in pigtails.

“You’re frustrated. Why?” You added.

“I doubt Enid would appreciate your talking at this hour.”

You knew Wednesday wasn’t expressive, especially in a vocal way that required her to tell you. However, being with Wednesday ever since she got to Nevermore, you couldn’t help but notice her habits. You kept track of sudden mood shifts. She rarely smiled, and if she did, it was because she’d seen something psychotic, especially when it’s her own doing.

You’d notice how her eyebrow would twitch when she’s confused, how her eyes would narrow slightly when she’s annoyed, how she’d look at a person’s forehead to make them uncomfortable enough to leave her be, and above all, the way she’d go past an hour doing her novel when she’s enjoying it or when she’s aggravated.

“Wednesday, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

‘And look pathetic?’ Wednesday thought. She’d rather swallow a knife than speak of her emotions. It was an unnecessary human trait to depend on another when they feel. So no, no matter what you did, she won’t. At least not now and not sooner when you clearly currently look like you haven’t slept for so long.

“I’m enjoying my novel.” She turned to you and mumbled in a low voice, “Now go to sleep before I kick you out for disturbing my peace.”

This was the most hesitant you got with Wednesday. It was as clear as day that she was bothered by something and you still don’t know what it was, but you couldn’t think of anything better to say as your head became fuzzy with clouded thoughts of wanting to go back to sleep. There was just one little conflict, although to test your theory, you required a little rest.

So the next thing? You dozed off in her bed in your red pyjamas and her black oversized jacket, neglecting the blanket that was wrinkled by your movements.

She returned to her work for half an hour. Although, not as concentrated as she was before.

Wednesday wasn’t sure why she couldn’t let herself near you. Maybe because she was the reason for the injury that she knew you hid under your shirt. She was destined to bring the whole school down, and she didn’t know the intentions that she could have. The more she found out, the more she knew so little, because the sight of you slipping away not so long ago already made her stomach churn. What more? Destroying the school that you loved and she despised?

The girl stood up silently from her place before the noisy typewriter and sat down on the floor, next to the bed where you slept on her side. She stared, almost stalking you, but without any psychotic motive. More like she was examining you, whether you were real or you were just some type of illusion created at the back of her mind where she secretly wished to be understood.

She wondered how someone like you existed. You were far too flawless although annoying to be in a world full of lies and deception. She believed life to be a masked torturer, a grim canvas painted with colours to hide the fact that it was out to get every living thing on Earth. She loved it, but the fact that it was not enough to keep you safe made her indecisive whether she should adore lies.

Wednesday found herself lying on the floor, staring at your hand that hung off the side of the bed. She remembered the last time she saw your hand like that, unconscious and rested.

It was the night she saw you in the woods, your fingers stained with your own blood, and your eyes closed like you weren’t going to wake up again for the next century. She recalled the worry, the guilt, the anger, and the fear that took over the bones of her body when you didn’t answer her call for your name.

It was her fault, although you didn’t seem to acknowledge that.

Was she allowed to touch you? Was she even allowed to set eyes upon you at all, knowing she was the reason for your suffering?

Wednesday leisurely lifted her index finger to touch your hands, slowly, gently, like a predator stalking its prey. The sensation was new to her.

And when your fingers met, she felt like touching the underworld’s divinity when fireworks started crackling at the tip of her black painted nails. Being close to you was one thing, but touching you, she was sure she’d burn like the witches at the stake in front of the grinning pilgrims.

That was when the sensation of being electrocuted to death started surging through their skin as her head lifted, seeing yet another vision — but not a premonition.

It was you in your uniform, running through the woods to look for a sense of comfort to console your anger after your fight with Wednesday. However, the vision skipped to an image of you, holding your head like it would split into two. Then again, where you woke up from a moment of silence to the sight of the monster that threw you back against a tree and swung its claws on your skin, leaving you to bleed out to your death.

She pulled out of the vision, only to find herself again on the floor but without your hand hanging off the bed. Wednesday heard your deep breathless exhales, the heaving of your chest, and the rustles of the sheets. She quickly sat up from where she lied and turned to look at you, your eyes furrowed as if you were about to break.

The beads of sweat on your forehead didn’t go unnoticed. Your hair was almost wet from the sweat that had formed on your body. The temperature in the room decreased more but your sweat only got worse as the tension heightened when she watched you try to recover from your moment of vulnerability.

Like Wednesday, you acted tough, but you were easier to crack than she was. You looked away in embarrassment, and wiped the sweat on your face with the sleeves of her jacket. “Sorry, I just — I dreamt of something.”

Once you didn’t hear a response, you looked at her and then, something clicked. “What are you doing on the floor?”

She checked herself and stood up to brush it off. Then, she awkwardly stood there in front of you, examining you again, but you weren’t sure why her gaze felt softer than her usual one.

“Wednesday?” You called.

“I saw a vision,” she mumbled. “When I touched your hand, I saw your attack.” She tilted her head, “You never told me about your attack.”

You winced. Wednesday caught this. Of course, it would take a reaction out of you. It was your scar, and now that she picked on it, it started to bleed again. Not like it hasn’t been bleeding before. Of course not. Of course.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t keep running away from it.”

That annoyed you, but you knew she was right. You had to share it with someone, no matter how much it opened a scar. You sighed in defeat, “I don’t want to tell anyone because I keep seeing it when I close my eyes. It makes me feel so— weak.”

Wednesday walked to the other side of the room to get the box of tissue on Enid’s drawer. She then went back to you, kneeling on the bed right in front of you. You were taken by surprise when she started dabbing your forehead with the tissue to dry your cold sweat. Her eyes focused on it as she listened.

“I was in that part of the woods when I had a premonition. It was messy, but it was clear that it led to the monster.” She stopped as you mentioned the cause of her lost concentration. “I guess I almost saw who it involved, but I pulled out of it when I heard a noise, and the next thing I know, I’m—” You swallowed the lump on your throat. You didn’t continue because you were sure you would humiliate yourself in front of her if you start becoming more pitiful than you already were.

“You were at death’s door,” she finished your sentence for you. You nodded, only this time, you couldn’t hold back your moment of weakness. You looked down in a pathetic manner to hide your glossy eyes and puffy appearance, blinking numerously in an attempt to shy it away.

“Wednesday, the vision you had, that was my nightmare,” you confessed as you lifted your head up. “I always see it every time I go to sleep.”

She didn’t know how to console you. All she knew was that she wanted to, but how? You weren’t Pugsley who would take an axe as a gift of consolation. Wednesday wiped the remainder of sweat on your neck, discarding the tissue to the trashcan after.

She hated the weakness you were showing as much as you do.

“I want it to go away.”

“I will put an end to it.” Wednesday replied. “I swear on my dead youth.”

“How? You don’t even know what it wants.”

“Let me do what I do best.”

You nodded at that. Wednesday put the box of tissue on the nightstand and slid out of the bed when you grabbed her wrist to stop her, making her urgently turn her head to you.

“Stay.”

“Can’t you sleep on your own?”

“Wednesday,” you gave her a look. She only stared at you in response, reading the expression you wore on your face. She found it desperate, but what else could she do? Staying with you tonight on her bed was the only thing she could do to make it up to you.

You lied down just as she did, in awkward silence. You both glanced at each other before turning your full attention to the ceiling. Her arms were crossed on her chest, so still. You found it amusing enough for it to put a smile on your face. You turned to the other side, looking away from her in an attempt to sleep.

However, it went like that for a couple of minutes before you realised you weren’t going to doze off anytime soon. “Wednesday?” You checked if she was still awake.

“What?” Although her voice sounded grumpy, you tolerated it.

“Could you,” you hesitated again. “Could you hold me?”

She looked at your back facing her, furrowing her eyebrows. What was this feeling again? Now you were asking her to touch you when a few minutes ago, she thought she didn’t deserve to even be in the same room as you.

She wanted to scream at herself for breaking the vow of not wanting to get involved in any romantic shenanigans, but here she was, slowly and incredulously positioning herself to hold you. She didn’t even know if she was doing it right. She was too careful not to touch anything, but what was the sense of avoiding it if it was the point of holding you?

She awkwardly placed her arm around you, resulting in you holding a smile back. You could have sworn you heard her heartbeat, but it was futile to keep thinking about it when she was this close.

“Do you want to tell me why you were typing away angrily earlier?”

“You’re already getting too comfortable.”

“You should take it as an example.” You retorted. There was no winning with you, was there? “Think of it as a bedtime story to put me to sleep, and I won’t be your problem any longer.”

“You’d exchange an opportunity to hear a Disney Princess story for a grim, depressing, and lethal sob story of an explanation as to why I spent some extra time on my novel?”

You nodded and turned to face her, “Turn around.” She did after yet another complaint. Wednesday was as stiff as an alligator in a swamp, acting like a log to wait for the right moment to pounce on its prey. “Is this okay?”

She nodded. It was your turn to wrap an arm around her. She wasn’t sure why she was letting you do this, but even despite her desire to say no, having you this close was rare and she intended to feel the feeling it constantly gave her.

“I hate that I’m letting you do this.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the only thing you hate about me, Wednesday. It doesn’t come as a surprise anymore.” You mumbled.

“I hate that I fall for this. I don’t even want to tell you anything.”

“But here I am, encouraging you to tell me everything.”

“I hate telling other people my,” the corners of her lips twitched at the word, “Feelings. I hate even telling it to you, out of all the people I can share it with.” You secretly loved the way her words spoke a degree of emotion despite it being emotionless. It was so like Wednesday. Your Wednesday. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever come across.”

You nodded, and then, she continued, “Sharing my feelings feels pathetic. Like I’m dependent on you, and I don’t have what it takes to live alone when in fact, I do. I’m supposed to be solitary. I have the faintest idea why this school is so obsessed with having someone to rely on. Being in this position with you, I’ve never felt so pathetic and vulnerable before. I strongly dislike it. You're making me put my guard down, and I hate the fact that even if you’re not aware, the day I found you in the woods all bloodied, I was . . . scared. Angry because I finally cared. It was my fault. I’m sure it’s off-putting to you.”

You hummed, “No, not really. You have the kind of attachment that isn’t as brittle and sweet as a sugar under heat and pressure. It’s tough. Something that goes above and beyond. Roses have thorns, but really, I want the stem. The stem has spikes, and I'm willing to bleed for it.”

“You’re horrible at giving metaphors.”

You chuckled. “What else do you hate about me, Wednesday Addams?”

“Besides your horrid metaphors, I hate you the most.” She turned to you this time, meeting your face just a smidge away. She looked at you, up and down. Wednesday was never this affectionate, but tonight, she reached a hand to your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing your eyebrow the next.

No one has ever seen this side of Wednesday but you. You weren’t complaining. You loved the thrill of having her accompany you alone, guessing if this is the moment she’d stab a knife straight through your heart or touch you.

“Do me a favour,” Wednesday suddenly said. “Have more nightmares and get scared more often.”

Her flirting skills need a little more work, but sure, if it meant being this close to her, you’d do anything.

Maybe on certain occasions, Wednesday could allow herself to let loose. Now she saw the bigger picture.

She didn’t mind looking pathetic, as long as it was with you.

There you lay together on the bed, looking like a couple of lifeless corpses in William Shakespeare’s most tragical romance. But could Romeo and Juliet do you any justice? Wednesday wouldn’t think so. Her eyes were wide open as you slept, thinking about what had happened.

She listened to your light snores, and watched as your chest moved up and down. Then, it was your heartbeat.

She didn’t need to look at you or watch as you slept in the dead of night just to make sure you were away from the nightmares coming to haunt you again or that you were not a nightshade delusion caused by the insanity brought by the school.

Are you sleeping well now? Will you wake up in your cold sweat again? She was prepared to tell you the long list of the things she hated about you if you shot up from the bed, gasping for air again.

But, there you were.

You were present. You were there. The daydream in the nightmare she sometimes wished for, and oftentimes, dreaded.

“I’m the most pathetic Addams to ever live because of you.”

[small-sinclair]

Snow and Rose

An idea by @violettelune

Reformed!Johnny Slaughter x fem!reader

Welcomed readers: @sup-im-blue

Tw: mention of blood and death, him being a dad, mainly his pov, just something fluffy, not prof-read

He woke up to another nightmare. Johnny dreamt that he found you dead in the sunflower field, your blood stained on his hands, lifeless eyes looking up. Then he heard his daughter crying in the distance. No matter how fast he ran towards her cries, he was never close enough. He was never there in time. It always ended with Nancy standing over the crib and a wicked smile on her face.

“Freed ya, Johnny. Now you can come home,” she would say. “Now you come back home. Come home.”

At his feet, barbed wire and chains wrapped around his legs and arms, pulling him to the ground. He felt roots sewing him to the wooden floor into front of his mother as he looked upon her and her smile. He felt chainsaw blades strangling him as he tried to scream your name, but sunflowers and daisies poured from his lips. His world filled with his victims, his deaths, and they all look at him with empty, lost eyes. He knew their names; how could he forget them? Then his eyes focus to the center and sees you and his child in a broken marble block, red tears falling from your eyes as you look on your child. He tastes your blood, your flesh between gasps and teeth. He hates this. He loves you. Stop. Stop it!

Wake up.

He would wake up in sweat, sometimes shutting, sometimes falling out of bed and pushing away from the bed and from you.

Tonight, however, he woke up with a start, breathing heavily, his dark eyes looking around like a scared wild animal. He looked down at your sleeping form then up at the cracked door leading into the hallway. He needed to check. Johnny just needed time check.

He got out of bed, put the blanket over your shoulder, and crept out of the room but something in his chest didn’t sit. He came back and kisses your head. “Be back, y/n,” he promised. “Keep my side warm.”

He may not be a hunter, but he still kept his talents. He can walk without noise, he can move without sound, and he can be hidden without being seen. Johnny uses that talent whenever his daughter is asleep when he comes home from a long day from the butchers. That’s why he got the job in Wisconsin; the butcher need another slaughter, and he’s good at it. Why waste a talent? He’s used to the blood, to the kill, but these are animals, not man. But he got the job to leave Texas. He swore to the stars he’ll never go back.

Johnny made that promise in a burned down church two years ago, and he stuck to it still.

He snuck out the room and down the hall to the open white door to the cotton candy pink room. He lets out a deep sigh as he came over the little white crib he built and looked down. Ophelia Rosemary Sawyer, his 5 week-year-old daughter, slept like a rock in a pink onesie with a bear in the center. Whatever fear he had, the nightmares, the shadows and ghosts— it all faded when he saw her sleeping in peace. Shes his rock, his world, his reason.

Ever so slowly, he lowered his hand and touched her head, and his heart fluttered when she moved into his hand. She’s not scared of him. As if she’s glass, he picks her up slowly and cradles her. He sneaks to the wooden rocking chair in the corner and rocks back and forth. The moonlight lit the room as the snow fell gently over the evergreens.

“Hey there, little sunshine,” he whispers. “Don’ worry. Daddy’s just needed ya.” He looks down at his world and rests his forehead against hers, kisses it, and holds her close. “I swear you’ll never be alone, ever. I love you… I’ll never not love ya.” Then he looks outside, stands up, and takes her to the window. “Look at ‘at, Ophelia,” he whispers in her small spot of brown hair, “it’s your first snow. So pretty an’ bright.” He looks out at the fields and forests, the farmlands and homes, and he thinks about the fireflies and waving weeds he left behind. “Daddy ain’t goin’ away, sunshine. I promise.”

He closes his eyes breathed out slowly. “Texas can keep the fireflies,” he looked down at his child, his blood and flesh, and his heart swelled, “I got my snow and rose.”

“Johnny?” Your voice was enough to make him jolt but he relaxed. “Why are you up? Is Ophelia okay?” You joined his side and looked down at your child. “I didn’t hear her.”

“Naw,” he answers, rocking on his heel, his eyes not leaving his child. “Sleepin’ like a lamb.”

You rested your head on his arm as he looked outside. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he said as he laid his head on top of yours.

“Is this your first snow?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is it everything you’d imagined?”

He thought for a moment as he took in the land before him. He could imagine Ophelia and her friends running wild outside with sleds, building snowmen, having a snowball fight out back. He could see himself with you during a star filled night while the children sleep, slow dancing with you in the snow, kissing you sweetly while whispering praises. He thought about Texas and the heat, but he thought about you smiling while it snowed, his kids playing, and him giving you a cup of cocoa.

“Everything and more, moonbeam,” he whispers, meeting your eyes. He leans down and kisses you tenderly. “I love you, y/n.”

“And I love you, Johnny,” you said back. You looked back at the snow, and you both watched it fall over the moon lit snow.

[kamiiri]

The image of the ghost haunted Ophelia for weeks. Something about that one really got to her. Her shriek had seemed particularly tormented…but that was two years ago, and the nightmares ceased eventually. Against her will, Ophelia got used to the spectral jump scares and zombified corpses that seemed to spring up in her backyard like weeds that just didn't know how to die.