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Satan’s Angel

Johnny Storm x WOC!Reader

Summary: She was hidden from the world at the age of 16 when something within her awoke. Something demonic. But she has her brother to hold onto when things start to get worse, because he’s there for her. Right?

warnings: language, blood, violence, mentions of medical problems. mentions of needles, abuse and torture. 18+

WC: 2.2K

masterlist I Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

(Y/N)’s silhouette was outlined on the wall from the glow of the TV, a nature documentary had long replaced the season finale of some space series. But she’d lost interest a long time ago.

No, her eyes were focused on the moth flickering around the lamp on the desktop in the opposite corner from her bed. It’s determination to get out of the lamp shade brought the (E/C) eyes to it desperate figure. Such a small thing making so much noise. Trapped in its new cage.

Funny.

‘I stopped making noise a long time ago.’

Her thoughts echoed in the emptiness of her head, a head that was still making its way out of the fog it had been pushed into. But like always, her body was use to it. The constant battle from herself and those around her. Fighting a common enemy – her.

Turning her head to the side (Y/N) watched as the sun’s crest peak over the horizon, the sign that she has began a new day. The trees sparkled as the light reflected off the snow and ice, the birds sang a greeting to the world and their neighbours as they ruffled their feathers and spread their wings. (Y/N) watched and listened as the world around her started to awaken, but she had never fallen asleep.

After she awoke from the slumber Doctor Tempest put her under, her body was still feeling the weight of sleep, but her mind was alive. Quietly alive. Six day had passed as she slept in her bed, six days of doctors and nurses poking her body with needles, six days of the moon and sun each taking turns to watch the broken women slowly come back to consciousness. But unknown to her, not once in those six days did the infamous Victor Von-Doom come visit her. He was too preoccupied with his upcoming meeting with Reed Richards, a man that needed his ship to conduct an experiment. He didn’t know the full detail yet. That meeting would happen later today.

But not a single thought was on his sister throughout those six days, but he did visit the lab every so often to see if they made any progress with her tests. But like always nothing came back. So, he had the nurses lie to his (Y/N), he told them that if she ask, tell her what she wants to hear.

__

The sun was bright, it calmed her. Soothed her. It was a saving grace after being stuck inside for so long.

“I have your fruit and yoghurt here, and the waffles are just being prepared as we speak,” a body sat itself down onto the chair opposite the women, their eyes watched as brown skin glowed in the sun’s warmth. Without a thought, a smile slithered its way onto the man face, wrinkles appeared around his green eyes as he watched the woman, he’d known for a long time to catch those rare moments of peace. His eyes left (Y/N) and travelled around the open space as he leant back against the woven chair. It had been a long time since he’d been outside with (Y/N); the sedative she was given helped her body freely heal itself without her tensing and drawing out the process. So, now she is likely to have a couple of weeks without another mishap. Maybe even a few months, but one never wishes too much.

“Do you know what Victor is doing today,” her eyes remained closed as she addressed the relax giant sitting opposite her, his frame dwarfed the chair he was sat in. He was practical a walking wall, but his personality didn’t even being to match his physique.

“Yeah, he’s got that meetin’ with Richards and Grimm,” Clinking could be heard and then a low ‘thank you’ and not long after the sweet smell of waffles engulfed (Y/N)’s senses. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes and was immediately met with the sight of physical heaven, not wasting any time she grabbed her fork and stabbed the fluffy circle.

“I know he didn’t come to see me; the nurses aren’t good liars.” The fork stopped just before it could enter his mouth, his lips twitched as he made eye contact with the woman in front of him. Gulping he set his food down and answered.

“Ha. How did you know?” the man seemed to shrink in on himself, the intensity of those (E/C) eyes made him wish he had just choked on his bacon.

“I don’t know I just kind of knew.” And with that (Y/N) began eating again. The sound of metal scraping against plates filled the cool air. No one spoke, eyes tracing the sky and birds.

“Give me your phone.” Her hand was stretched out towards the man, who had once again frozen in place with a sceptical look in his face. Slowly, as if he were going to scare a timid animal away, he reached for his phone and placed it into the awaiting hand. “You’re not going to call you brother, are you?”

“No.” And he knew by the look on her face that the conversation was paused. On his end that is. “Where is he now?” her eyebrow raised in question, like a child, the man in front of her looked anywhere but her eyes.

“Zion, please. I just want to get out of here. And you’re my bodyguard, so help guard me by letting me leave this fucking place.”

“What kind of backwards logic do you have rattalin’ inside that head of yours (Y/N)? I ain’t saying a thing,” the woman in question huffed out a laugh as she watched the man squirm in front of her. She looked down at the phone in her hand and started to enter the passcode, once she was through, she went through the motions of finding the desired contact.

“You know, your accent really comes through when you lie or are nervous. So please Zion, think about this or your donut privileges get taken when your wife finds out.” Her little threat was triumphant as Zion broke.

“He’s in New York, for the Richards meeting.” He was met with a ‘hum’ from (Y/N) as she brought the ringing phone to her ear. There was a moment of silence before Zion could see (Y/N) visibly perk up, some one answered the phone and he hoped it wasn’t her brother.

“Susan, hello. I need your help.”

__

New York city.

She had done the exact opposite of what Victor had told her to do. She left his facility in the Alps and was currently on the rode to the launch site. She needed to experience something before it would all end. And when she had learned from Susan that Victor had gone through with Reed’s plan, she didn’t even think before she jumped at the chance to go to space.

Of all places Reed Richards wanted to go to it had to be space.

The past few day had been a blur, getting the semi-all clear from Doctor Tempest was a bit tricky because she had to convince him that she was going to be okay. That was lie number one. She then had to convince Susan that Victor would be happy to see her there, lie number two. And then, she had to convince herself that if she had the opportunity she wouldn’t jump out of the ship into the wide unknown and die. That was obviously lie number three.

But sat in the car, wind blowing through her locks, she knew deep down that this was meant to happen.

“I hope you know that he’s going to hate you. And that is not my problem.” Sluggishly turning her head to the side, (Y/N) watched as Zion clenched his jaw in irritation. The greys streaks in his bread shining in the sunlight, contrasting beautifully with his dark skin. (Y/N) savoured this moment, the sight of the father figure she had grown to love sat next to her, possibly for the last time.

“We both know you’ll make it your problem.” They both looked at each other for a split second, unspoken words captured and understood.

Before anyone could say anything, a shout in the distance made them both look ahead. They had arrived. The building loomed over them, a reminder of the power it held. People were scattering back and forth, going from one place to another.

A smile graced her face, she was really outside.

Her (E/C) eyes were scanning everything; it took some strength for her not to run from one thing to another. The way almost everything had changed made her excited to explore the new world but at the same time it finally made her realise how she really couldn’t experience everything through people’s hearsay or a TV screen. She had to be there, in the flesh to really see how the ocean sparkled under the suns caress, how the birds danced with each other in the swing of the wind. Or how a person’s eyes shined with love and adoration. She had to be there to experience the laughter of friends and family.

Running her fingers through her locks, she sighed as caught a quick reflection of herself.

“Great, one thing I didn’t miss was the wind fucking with my hair.” She frantically searched herself for a satin scrunchie but whined in frustration when she came up short.

‘I didn’t leave it at home, did I?’

Running her hand through messy locks, she grunted as she came to the realisation that her first interaction after four years of isolation will be with her hair looking like a birds nest. And this is why sometimes she hated having kinky hair.

A noise brought her out of her existential crisis, and when she turned around, she was met with a sight to behold. A gasp fell from her plump lips as she carefully took the satin scrunchie out of her saviours hold.

“Susan, I’m going to kiss you, just give me a minute.” Quickly tying up her fro, she wasted no time and flung herself into the awaiting arms of blonde woman. She reluctantly let go of Susan, her hold on her emotions was failing.

Blinking before any tears slipped out, she plastered a smile onto her face, “so a little birdy tells me things between you and my brother a kicking off. I am a little offended you didn’t tell me, yes. But we move.” Linking her arm with Susan’s, she let the blonde lead the way.

“I don’t think that is true, if you were offended, you’d have come down here sooner.” Laughter followed the pair as they made their way to their destination.

Finally, they reached their destination. A small room sparsely decorated held the two suits that they would both be wearing. (Y/N), let go of Susan and walked over to them.

“What is this, I don’t think this will fit me.” She nervously chuckled as she looked over her shoulder at Sue who was shaking her head at the baffled woman. Sue glided over to her and picked up her own suit.

“Victor designed them; the synthetics act as a second skin adapting to your body’s individual needs. So, it will fit honey.”

“Self-regulating molecules huh? Nice.” And with that she made no fuss as she put it on. Minutes later the two women were putting the final touches to the space outfit before there was a knock on the door. (Y/N) looked over at Sue and followed her as she stepped over to answer the door.

“The others have arrived ma’am.” Susan replied with a quick ‘thank you’ and gestured to (Y/N) to follow her, she quickly picked something up before they both left the room. With wide strides the two women walked through a crowded hallway, exchanging hellos and smiles to the people they passed. (Y/N) noticed that only a handful of people she passed recognised her, she could tell by the look of shock plastered onto their faces when they saw her. She really didn’t expect any less, it had been a long time since she had wondered outside the facility. The last time was at Uncle Boris’s funeral.

“The look on your hard-ass CO’s face when he finds out he’s your junior officer: priceless.” (Y/N) watched as the interaction between Ben and some man went down. Her eyebrow arched in curiosity and scanned the man perched on the edge of the seat, his muscles were being defined rather nicely in the suit that apparently everyone was wearing, but her attention was cut short when she heard a deep voice cut through her thoughts. And before she could look up, strong arms encircled her body and lifted her in the air.

“God, you’ve gotten big squirt,” the rumble of Ben’s voice automatically made her body relax as she slowly returned the hug. As her feet touched the floor, she was able to properly get a look at the man; she giggled as the light made his forehead shine, his vivid green eyes made him look younger. The way they twinkled always made her wonder if anything could ever put her down. The last time they had talked, Mr Grimm had just proposed to Debb, and she couldn’t have been any happier for him.

But deep down it hurt, everyone was moving on with their lives. Finding love, having a family, grieving. But what did she have.

What did she have?

Siren’s lullaby

Geralt of Rivia x WOC/reader

Summary: (Y/N) seeks the Witcher to help her capture the woman that shed the blood of her family. She may have the voice of an angel but her intentions are far from heavenly.

Warnings: Blood, violence, murder, torture, language, nudity, discrimination, abuse/assault  your media consumption is your own responsibility, you have been warned 18+

WC- 1.6K

Masterlist 

I am hosting a little competition of sorts, I will pick five people to have their character be in my story just fill out this form- HERE. 

The ocean flourished under the caress of the afternoon sun; waves lulled softly against the side of the ship as they foamed back into itself, the voices of the men drowned out the song of the birds as they ran about fixing sails and tying ropes. A man sat on the railing of the figure-head and watched carefully as the water rippled around them. His tanned skin glistened with sweat under the sun as he sharpened his knife, his eyes and mind were elsewhere.

A whisper of lust and flesh floated in the air, dancing around his head as he looked of into the distance, his hands worked independently – sharpening the knife on the flat stone he found in the hull of the ship, the motion came naturally to his body after years of repeating the same motion. The whispers grew quietly into a song of men floating to the treasure at the bottom of the sea, where gift beyond men were to be found. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought a ghoul was sat beside him, lips pressed against his ear and lulling him with unforeseen riches.

His eyes casted downwards, watching as the blues and greens mixed together creating an illusion of a fantasy that was always told in fairy tales. A lost city and civilisation of merepeople. He remembers the stories he use to hear from the elders, the upper-body that of a human, and the lower half was that of a fish with tails almost twice the size of their body, decorated in intricate scales and colours, with a fin at the end that helped them propel through the waters. Their hair a celadon-green and nipples of light-green. He remembered how many elders and others of his race were enamoured with their looks calling them nymphs of the sea, singing about their looks and the great power they hold.

But he was a child then, naïve, and simple-minded. Now he’s a man and the branding on his left forearm reminds those he crosses paths with that he is a dangerous man.

“You never think you are going to fall in sir?” his accent catches itself on the syllables, making it seem more pronounced and thicker. The man in question looked over his shoulder, throwing a hearty laugh to his crewman he put his knife back in it pocket and swung his body around before jumping back onto the deck.

“You insult me Mayarnde, all these year on this beauty and you still think I can’t balance myself right.” With a slap on the back, he moved towards the centre of the ship giving orders, joking with his men. The hour of peace brought clarity to his mind, something he needed from the past two moons. He thanked the stars for the peaceful journey, but deep down he really knew the reason, he would be foolish to deny it.

He made his way to back of the ship where the door to his quarters stood red wood splintering with age and the constant battle from the sea. It looked like it could do with a new glaze. The money he was getting paid after this trip would be enough to completely redo the entire ship and there would still be some left over.

“Maybe a visit to a brothel, the men could use the release.” He scratched his head as the thought occurred to him, he hadn’t laid with a woman for two moons. None of his men had, usually when they make a quick stop to grab some previsions, they have time to visit a whore or two. But their current guest was adamant on getting to their destination as quickly as possible. And god was he suffering.

He shut his door behind him and looked over his quarters, the desk was covered in parchments and writing utensils, the table in the middle of the room was completely covered by the map – markings plotting their course and other annotations that made little sense to him, his windows were open letting the warm breeze dance around. The parchments on the dark wooden walls fluttered as the wind gently swayed by, the sound of scribbling told him that someone had awaken.

Taking off his coat and throwing it onto the back of a chair, he wandered over to the map and observed the new markings, a thick circle marked out the city Cintra telling the man that was their final destination. It caused his eyebrows to raise, all this time and not once had he seen any city marked like this one.

“So, he is here then, the one you are looking for?” his violet eyes looked up to the woman hunched over the desk, reading new parchments that had only just arrived by raven. Her (H/C) hair was set free, coiling around her face and down to her navel, her deep-toned skin shone with a light sweat as she sat in the embrace of the sun. He watched her for a second noting the strange celadon-green highlights that would catch the sun every once in a while.

“Mhmm, Minoa told me that she heard talks of him in the area. Last, I know is that no one had seen him for weeks.” She shrugged her shoulders, not once looking up at the man in front of her. “But if Minoa said he was in the area that he is. It kind of her thing.” Her voice always brought a strange sensation over the man. He couldn’t exactly place it but, it felt relaxing almost peaceful.

“When do you want to dock because I saw land. So, we can reach there by the end of tomorrows light.” He rested his hip against the table, his sole focus on the woman. He only now notice that she was wearing his tunic with her trousers. It suited her, it suited her really well.

He really needed to visit a brothel soon.

“We can dock tomorrow, let the men rest, fuck a few whores and drink to get their shit back together. But I won’t leave the ship for a few days.” The language that came from her mouth never ceased to amaze him. When he first met her, he was taken aback by the way she dressed – tunic and trousers but the way she wore them made it seem perfectly fit for her. Her gaze was captivating and pierced his soul as she spoke to him. It trapped him in a trance. She had the air of a regal and noble lady, but the mouth of a sailor. It helped his men feel at ease.

The past two moons had been hard, the constant stopping and starting that only she knew the reason behind. But she helped his men through it, she had plenty of coin to keep their bellies happy throughout their trek across the great sea – meat and drinks that only the finest in life would eat. She was stronger than everyone thought too, she didn’t slink away into the quarter and stay there for the past two moons, she slaved away like the rest of the men. And her fighting skills were beyond anything he’d ever seen.

And he has seen some shit.

She finally looked up from the parchment and held his gaze, her plump lips spread into a soft smirk as she watched the man in front of her dumbly nod his head.

“Sorry Captain Saria, I forget you are not used to a woman using such language. I keep forgetting that, and I will most certainly need to fix my tongue once we land in Cintra.” She puffed out a laugh and bit her bottom lip. It had been some time since she’d been around people. Her life was normally quite and simple, in her term anyway.

She pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes, letting them rest for a moment. She didn’t even remember blinking in the last few hours.

“(Y/N), what exactly are you looking for?” his violet eyes bore into her figure, he waited with bated breath for her to answer. And when her eyes met his, it took everything in him to not falter. It always amazed him how magnificent her eyes were, they could be the most tantalising feature throughout her entire being. One eye a breath-taking colour of (E/C) and the other celadon-green. It did give him some comfort, knowing that there was another out there from an ancient race. Throughout most of his adventures around this world he hardly saw anyone who looked like him, his elven bredrin had become scarce on this harsh world.

He was lucky with the life he has now.

“This man, he.” She put the writing pointe down and stood up from the chair she had been in for the past hour. She came in font of the desk and swiftly pulled herself to sit on top of it. She watched as Captain Saria looked her over, his violet eyes gazed at the shoulders that became exposed when the tunic slipped down.

“We have a lot in common, we are two beings that aren’t accepted in this world, Saria, he is going to help me find the woman that killed my family, my blood.” She brought her left arm forward and used her right hand to slowly roll up the sleeve of the tunic. An angry, jagged scar set itself along the expanse of her forearm. she delicately traced it with her fingers, a light mummer of pain made itself known. She had ran from her past, detached herself from everything she knew and it had worked. She became something she never dreamed of, she doesn’t even recognise her own reflection. (Y/N) looked back up at Saria, his eyes were dull, the sympathy felt mocking to her.

“I am the only one left out of my colony, I had to flee my home and become something I hate because my own home is unsafe. She took everything from me, and I intend to make her suffer.” (Y/N) let her arm flop back down. Her eyes clouded with the memories of her past, the laughter and pain, the children, Her blood.

Her people.

“And the Witcher is going to help me find her.”

__________

Let me know what you think my darlings. if you wish to be tagged let me know in the comments. 

A Woman Like You

Tommy Shelby x WOC!Reader

Word Count: +1,215

Warning(s): Angst, Sexist remarks, Societal pressure, Sterotypes.

Author's note(s): I've recently been using writing as a form of therapy. This goes to all the ladies that can relate.

You've fallen head over heels for Tommy Shelby, but now you're questioning if his intentions were sincere or not.

GIF by nofckingfighting

You made the mistake of falling in love. You should've seen the signs sooner. You started working at the Garrison as a bar maid with Grace, eventually moving up to being their sole entertainment. You were an exotic bird who had caught to wandering eyes of drunken Englishmen. Some folks would say you had these men in a trance, with your rare features and seductive mannerisms. Some even say you're a witch. But there was only one person who saw you for you. Tommy Shelby.

It was refreshing, being seen as a soft, delicate thing. His demeanor would shift when talking to you. He's much kinder to you that with any of his men. That was until another, prettier face had caught his eye. You of all people knew the truth: Tommy Shelby would never love you. Instead he'd fallen for your coworker Grace. She's everything you weren't. That may have been the reason why. Of course, you should've seen the signs. How he'd look at her with such tenderness.

Eventually his entire personality completely changed with you. Perhaps they were his true colors. After her death, things went south. Tommy returned to you, but only for physical intimacy. He was rough, unapologetic, and at time, downright cruel. He hadn't spoke to you like a lady, with basic respect. It almost hurt knowing men will never speak to you with kind remarks. As soon as you found a better option, you let him know right away. When you close the pub for the last time, Tommy was there. It was strange, having an Englishman waste his previous time on foreign blood.

You turn around to find Tommy sitting on a barstool, not paying him mind. Then something strange happened. He isn't usually this tender, not even in private. So why on earth was he telling you to stay? After every humiliating thing he'd put you through. How Tommy would shimmy you off his arm in front of his business associates. It only got worse when he'd flirt with women right in front of you, then ask for a fuck because it was convenient. Perhaps it was the liquid courage, maybe even the hormones that made you tear up with anger. But for some reason, you wanted to let him know he hurt you, "Enough, Tom, you need to stop doing this,"

He tilts his head up, genuinely surprised that you'd spoken up. His eyelids are hooded, "If you've got something to say..." he lights up a cigarette, "...say it now," how predictable. Tommy's cruelty had no limits. You were tired of being his little plaything, "I deserve better than this, better than you," letting him know how you truly felt, "You're fucking selfish, you know that?" tears already streaming down both cheeks, "You could've told me you were seeing other women, Tom," your vision blurs. Tommy objected, "You knew who I was when you met me--"

"Yeah, yeah I thought I did, until you decided to to make an acceptation with that blonde whore!" you knew what it would take to get his blood boiling. You wanted to hurt him the same way he hurt you, "I've wasted most of my life waiting for you to love me back, I wasted my good years on a man who wouldn't care if I bled out on the floor!" voice now shaking. You were filled with regret, pain, and anger.

He doesn't even know what the weight of his words did to you, "I know how you English men see women like us, we're always sexually desired but never loved, enough for a good fuck but not enough to make a wife," a chuckle escapes your tips at the thought of it. How could he marry someone like you? His name and status that he's worked so hard for would be tainted. Because who could ever love a woman like you? He had the audacity to roll his eyes, "You were entertainment, to bring customers in," someone pretty enough to keep company around.

"Everything, Tom, everything I've been doing, the act, because I am not allowed the luxury of being seen as innocent," after pouring your heart out, he still hadn't believed you, "Don't act like you haven't been seeing other men," he scoffs. You started to laugh at that remark. Had he really been that clueless? Tears stream down both cheeks. You wipe at them, smearing your mascara, "Now that's incredible," a deep grunt is trapped in the back of your throat, "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" in an almost hushed tone, "Tommy, you were my first and only, do you really not believe me?" nothing felt worse than being betrayed by the one you trust the most, "All I ever wanted was for you to love me," since the beginning you were there. Even when he was mourning Grace you were there to keep him comfort. How foolish of you.

"Now you never told me--"

"I know who you pretend I am, who you want me to be," you roll your eyes, sniffling for a moment, "I'm not like you Tom, I can't pass, I can't change the color of my skin or features-- I will never be the white woman you've always wanted me to be, the kind of woman you'd keep on your arm without feeling embarrassed, why can't you just accept that?" a faint pause, "You told me...you told me she wasn't your type," barely a whisper, "Was everything a lie?" when he doesn't say anything, it was the only answer you needed. At that moment you snapped, "Please! Look at me!" you smack his arm, "Tommy!" when he does you're given only a cold stare.

Of course, it was never going to be someone like you. There are tears brimming your eyes again. It hurts, knowing that you will always be second best. Always an option but never the first, "At first I was confused, your infatuation with Grace didn't make sense, and now I see that it never mattered who she was," your breath hitches for a moment, "You were always going to choose someone like her..." now rambling about the obvious, "Prettier, blonder...whiter," you taunt.

Each word felt like venom on your tongue. You should've been used to the poison by now, "You don't know how long it took for me to trust a man again, after the pain I've been through--women like me, Tom, we don't have pretty blue eyes that get us what we want, not without a price," that remark made your skin crawl, "Always the seductress, never seen as pure," a dark chuckle erupts, taking up all sound from the bar. Tommy only stares back at you, with that same cold expression. You lean against the counter, looking down at the wood before returning to glance at him, "Did you ever love me?"

If there's one thing about Tommy, is that he would never lie to you, "No," a short, simple answer. You give him a soft, faint smile. Saddened by the loss but also relieved that you were free at last, "Thank you," with that you left, never returning to the Garrison again.