#America Slow

[harrelltut]

OMMMMM

IMMORTAL U.S. MILITARY KING SOLOMON-MICHAEL HARRELL, JR.™

him [harrell] classist king michael

2023 america ass backwards 

separate from peasants 

[levans44]

what’s it gonna take to break your heart?

pairing: steve rogers x agent!reader

summary:

He vows to keep his distance, tells himself it's wrong—you're too new, too young, too good—and he's your commanding officer.

But whichever way he bends the truth, he just can't seem to keep you away.

warnings: angst, slow build, inside the tortured mind™ of steven grant rogers, mention of age difference, light mention of blood/injury

word count: 1k

a/n: thought i'd write something from steve's pov, for a change. pt. 1 of my mini series: what's it gonna take? all parts can be read as stand-alone pieces. title by FINNEAS

One of these days, you’re gonna be what does him in.

You’re a wildfire, a blaze barely contained. Too young, too bright, too intense for someone like him. Next to you, he's just a smoldering ember, tempered by decades of ash.

Fresh-faced, barely in your mid-20s, yet hand-selected by Fury from the newest round of Avengers recruits. It didn't take long for the rest of the group to catch onto your talent and grit—started calling you their wildcard, the Ace.

Still, there’s no denying your age. Leagues younger than everyone else, with a certain vibrance in your eyes that sets you apart. 

Too young to devote the rest of your life to this kind of work.

And far too young for him to be feeling the way he does about you.

So he does everything he can to keep you at arm’s length, swallowing down every sidelong glance, every quick-witted comment and smile that eats away at his resolve.

But then you actualize the worst of his fears during a routine operation, throwing yourself head-first into a burning building, just moments away from collapsing.  

You, with a life teeming with potential, nearly taken in a heartbeat.

And Steve snaps. 

The Quinjet is barely off the ground when he strides through the haze of desert debris, making a beeline for you. Doesn’t spare you a second to catch your breath, dragging you by the arm to the rear of the cargo deck, raised eyebrows from the rest of the crew be damned.

By the time he releases his ironclad grip, cornering you against a stack of weapon crates, he’s scanned you for injuries at least three times over.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, chest heaving like he’s the one who’s just sprinted across a collapsing rooftop and leapt onto an airborne vehicle.

“What do you mean?” 

You cock your head earnestly, arms crossed as you stare up at him.

And he swears, he could end it all right then and there. 

Face covered in soot, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth—and you have the audacity to smile. The sharp corners of your lips pierce into smooth, rounded cheeks, still flushed red with exertion. As stunning as the day he first saw you, even with all the grime, sweat, and blood staining your skin.

Steve’s jaw clenches, concealing the tightness in his stomach with a gruff sigh. 

“You know exactly what. I ordered you not to engage.”

Not a flicker of hesitation when you fire back: 

“She had kids. I didn’t have a choice.” 

Directives and protocols gone by the wayside, earpiece tossed behind your shoulder as you head straight for a family trapped on the top floor—his orders to wait for the Quinjet buried in the dust. 

And he shouldn’t have expected anything less. 

He breathes through his nostrils, eyes fluttering shut, but all he can hear is the blood roaring in his ears.

But you did have a choice, he wants to argue. You don’t have to bear it all on your own. 

Why must you always be the one to rush to the frontlines?

But the words that come out are cold and detached, bypassing the part of his brain that wants to reach out and gently wipe the soot off your cheek: 

“That’s not the point. If the building had collapsed, you would have only added to the casualty count.”

“Maybe. But the Quinjet wasn’t gonna get there in time. I had to take the risk.”

A quiet sigh, gloved fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Agent, we don’t gamble with lives like that.”

Your sharp laugh cuts through the air, piercing his ears. Too sharp against the soft outline of your jaw, the smooth contours of your neck. You shoot him a look, the clarity in your irises reflecting his hypocrisy. 

“Funny coming from you, isn’t it Cap?”

There it was, that derision in your tone, a sneer on your pretty lips as you spit out his title like a a dirty word.

And damn him for wanting to taste it off your tongue, hear you gasp it into his neck as he presses you against the cold, steel-plated wall behind you. 

Leather gloves creak under his grip as he balls his fists, eyes darting to the wound on your upper arm when he can't formulate a quick enough response. A large glass shrapnel from the window you’d crashed through—a steady trail of dark crimson trickling down your forearm all the way to your dirt-laden fingertips, where it hits the floor in slow drips. 

“Just… go get that patched up.” 

Lips curling over bright teeth, you salute him with your injured arm without so much as blinking, a line of blood running back down your wrist. 

“Yessir.”

For the entire 7-hour ride from Lagos to base camp, he stays glued to a seat in the back of the Quinjet, head bowed over a tablet as he busies himself with sorting through gathered intel.  Desperately ignores your animated banter with Natasha and Sam from the other side of the cabin, where you drown out the steady drone of the engine with your bright laughter. 

When a sudden shriek sounds from your direction, he spares a quick glance, finding you with your arms over your head, laughing and swatting the air as Redwing circles teasingly above you. Nearly snaps his tablet in half the moment you suddenly bend over, the stretch of your tactical suit clinging to your hips as you reach for the drone control panel on Sam’s wrist.

As soon as the wheels screech down on the tarmac, Steve gets to unloading the jet, hauling crate after crate of equipment just to avoid meeting your gaze. 

Hours later, when the paperwork’s taken care of and everyone’s retreated to their quarters, he drags himself to the training room on base.

Throws his fists against a punching bag, each strike a desperate attempt to sweat out the impure thoughts. Praying he can free himself of the images in his head—images of you—he doesn’t let up until the first rays of sunlight hit the gym. The skin over his knuckles start to split after a while, but he doesn’t bother wrapping them. They’ll heal soon enough.  

And when neither the 4-hour gym session nor the scalding hot shower afterward washes you away from his thoughts, burning brightly as ever in the back of his mind, he sinks into bed, fuming. 

You’re too new, too young.

It’s a breach of protocol, he’s technically your commanding officer. 

You don't think of him in that way. 

Yet, whichever way he bends it, there’s no escaping the truth. 

It’s a sharp, exquisite kind of ache, one that wraps around his chest, tightening with every breath, until it’s the only thing he can feel.

And damn it, it’s a torture sweeter than anything he's ever known.

[uk4yy]

idk why they thought scheduling a family photo for 9am was a good idea

[speedwayy]

Cathy/Heathcliffe + Sam/Dean

thank you @wombesties for reminding me :]

[mzminola]

This is not a perfect analogy but I am making it anyway to try to convey what being online has been like for me lately.

Seeing people say "Oh, Jews are fine, I just hate zionists!" is like seeing "Oh, women are fine, I just hate feminists!"

Zionism and feminism are both very broad socio-political movements that have changed focus over time, that ostensibly have some very basic core tenets but you really need to ask the specific person you're talking to how they personally define it to be sure.

Both have been subject to legitimate criticism, and hostile reactionary bullshit. Had waves, sub-movements, splinters, people with damn near opposite views sharing the term and people with seemingly identical views rejecting it.

You can give working, broad definitions like these:

Feminism is the belief that all people should be treated equally regardless of gender, with a focus on women's rights due to systemic oppression.

Zionism is the belief that all peoples have the right to self determination and safety, with a focus on Jewish people finding it in Israel.

You can also give different definitions! Many people give different definitions! Many people also hold these beliefs but use different names for them for various reasons.

There are self-described zionists who are jingoistic, racist, etc, and who attribute those attitudes to their zionism. Just as there are feminists who are misandrist, bio-essentialist, transphobic, homophobic, and so on, who attribute those attitudes to their feminism.

There are also incredibly selfless, compassionate activists working for positive change in the world who consider themselves zionists and feminists.

It has been very jarring to see people, who I respect, uncritically reblogging posts or headlines that use "zionists" as a stand in for "bad people", just as jarring as it would be to see them sharing things that use "feminists" that way. Especially when those posts contain easily debunked conspiracy theories that I know you'd have seen right through if the OP said "Jews" but because they said "zionists" you swallowed it whole.

I am not asking anyone to stop sharing important information, petitions, news articles, resources, and so on. I am asking you to slow down and stop spreading inflammatory language that paints a broad socio-political movement for Jewish self-determination as inherently bad. The same way I would ask you not to spread inflammatory language that paints gender equality & women's liberation as inherently bad.

If the information is important, please look for other, more neutrally worded posts. Or verify the links yourself and make a fresh post! There is no situation online in which the only way to share information must be to spread such language.

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid Part 2

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing. Reader is a maid.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 1 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

🧹🧹🧹

You wake up to the Snake throwing you out of your cot.

"Witch! You dare to sleep in? Get up and start working NOW!" he yells at you.

You groan in pain as you try getting up and starting the day. The medicine Banner gave you is working wonders; you feel none of the pain and your wrist has significantly healed overnight.

You make your way to the kings wing when the Snake corners you against a wall.

"The king has asked me to send you another personal message." he sneers. Your eyes widen in fear when he suddenly slaps you across the face. You feel the wound in your lip split open again, the now familiar metallic taste filling your mouth. He grabs your cheeks with one hand and squeezes painfully.

"Watch your back, witch. I'm watching your every step." he threatens.

He throws you to the floor and walks away, as you gather your items and continue to the kings quarters, refusing to let him see you in pain.

Silent tears are brimming your eyes. You blink them away and take a shaky breath.

I don't know how much longer I can take this.

You manage to complete your tasks within the allotted time given you to by King Loki. You leave his wing with a long sigh of relief, praying that you never have to see him again.

A few weeks go by as you manage to do your work properly and on time to avoid the king. However, the guard Snake, seems intent on making you fail, on breaking you into submission. Without reprieve, he has consistently targeted you every night, to limit your capabilities. Your response and demeanour remains the same: silent and emotionless. As a result, the pain compounded, the prevention of your body to receive time to heal made you weaker. Last night was the worst, as you were too weak and in pain to fight back. You return to Banner, who provides you with more medication but insists that something must be done to stop them from this continuous abuse. You say nothing as you stare back at him, knowing there is nothing either of you can do. You've been sold to the crown to pay for your parent's debt and there was no way out.

The next day, you wake up in unbearable pain. You look in the mirror and curse at yourself. You eye is a deep purple, yellow and green on the outskirts where your nose and eyebrow is. You had fogotten to apply the balm last night, as you had slipped into unconsciousness after the traumatic events of the night.

You decide to wear a shawl over your head and to keep your eyes to the ground while you walk around the castle to the King's wing. You manage to get through most of the work without seeing anyone. When you get to the king's chambers, you close the door behind you and tighten the shawl around.

You start your work, slowly moving around. You still have a limp from the pain in your ankle after the guards had stomped on it the other night.

You work your way around his chambers, focused on cleaning the large windows. You're slowly stepping up on the tall stool with one foot and hanging the other in the air to avoid putting pressure on it. You slowly lift your arms but hiss in pain from the stretch of your bruised ribs. You're shaking with every movement as you clean. You're so focused on ignoring the pain and cleaning that the sudden sound of a throat clearing behind you makes you jump in fear. You yelp as you try to steady yourself but put too much pressure on your ankle and begin falling to the floor when you're suddenly wrapped in strong arms and behind helped back up onto your feet.

You see a flash of green as you're being pulled up and immediate know who it is. You look down at your shoes.

"Sorry darling, I didn't mean to scare you." Loki says with amusement.

You stay quiet as you stare at the floor. You feel his stare boring into you.

"Not much of a talker I see... very well, continue on with your work. I've been pleased so far, so please continue." He says as he steps to the side to let you get back to the windows.

From the corner of your eye, you see him grab the book from his night stand and sit on his bed.

He notices your hesitancy "Don't mind me, I will simply be reading. He turns his head down to the book.

You swallow thickly, anxiety seeping into your bones. All of the rumours you've heard of his cruelty creep into your mind and you start to shake. You force yourself to calm down and return to your work.

Keeping your down as you do not want him to see your bruises on your face, they're especially brutal this time. You turn to the stool and begin stepping up on it. Leaning on the wall, you put one leg up and look behind you quickly to make sure the king doesn't see you as you grip the wall and jump up a level of the stool on one foot. You keep the second foot flat on the stool, but put no pressure on it, to avoid suspicion and keep the pain at bay. You grab the cloth in your hand and stretch yourself slowly to reach the top of the glass and move your arm slowly side to side. You stretch too far and groaning loudly in pain as you retract and pause to take a deep breath. You don't dare look behind you. You know he heard you but you refuse to acknowledge it.

You try again and start cleaning the windows, moving your arm side to side and manage to finish without hissing out loud in pain. You're biting the inside of your cheek as you start lowering yourself from the stool. You pause to grip the wall again and hop down the first step, you miss it and instinctively put your pained ankle down to prevent from falling. As soon as your foot steps on the stool, you yelp in pain and jump off the stool, gripping the wall to steady yourself. Your head is down, you're breathing rapidly, knuckles turning white as you try to regulate your breathing.

You're so focused on waiting for the pain to go away that you don't hear Loki get up and walk up behind you until you feel his hand on your elbow.

You stiffen at the touch.

"Turn around." he orders you.

You feel tears forming in your eyes. This is it. He's going to send me to the dungeons and have me killed or tortured, or worse. You swallow hard and slowly turn around on one foot while staring at the floor.

"Look at me." he orders you again.

You slowly lift your head up and look at him. You see his eyes widen slightly and his jaw tick.

"What happened?" he commands.

His eyes are a deep green, you can see the emotion behind them.

What do I say? I can't tell him what's happening... he will never believe me. I'm a simple maid. Who am I to snitch or accuse a royal guard?

"I slipped and fell." you reply queitly.

A lie. He can taste it. He looks at you and slits his eyes as he ponders your answer.

"You mean to tell me, you slipped and fell in such a way that split your lip, gave you a black eye and seriously sprained your ankle almost the brink of it being broken?" he asks you incredulously.

"It was a very bad fall your highness." you say queitly.

He chuckles at your answer "You know I am the God of Lies and Mischief, and yet you still choose to lie to me. I do not take you for a fool. You speak eloquently, you seem somewhat educated and intelligent. Yet, you still lie to me."

You swallow thickly and sway slightly out of anxiety.

"Apologies your highness. It was not meant in ill-will."

He sighs deeply "I can smell Dr. Banner's healing balm on your skin. He created it for me, to numb the pain while I am at war. Why would a 'simple maid' such as yourself need the balm?....I will ask you one last time, what happened?"

You're shaking, his eyes look you up and down with concern.

You remain quiet. Too fearful to lie or say the truth.

He sighs deeply "You refuse to answer my question again? You understand the consequences of such disrespectful actions towards a royal. Why?" he questions.

You shift again "I can't lie if i remain quiet, your highness."

He stops and stares at you. He is shocked by your answer. His eyes shimmer and lips curly slightly into a smirk; he's impressed.

"Very well... You may leave now."

He watches you limp to the closet, put the supplies away and lower the shawl over your face again.

You bid him farewell and take your leave.

When you leave his chambers he can't help but wonder about you.

She lied. I know she did. Who does she fear so intently that she is willing to lie to her king for? Something isn't right here. Her eyes... they looked empty....

He paces his room and stares out his window, coming up with a plan to figure out what is happening within his kingdom's walls.

🧹🧹🧹

Part 3

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

[daisydenim1967]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[starbloggirl]

Can we normalize not writing smut about our favorite characters? Cause I just went to find a Steve Rogers x reader fic, and it's all smut. I genuinely just want a boring little romance with a hint of actually marvel content in there. Also y'all will literally turn and character into a "mafia au" I'M TIRED OF IT, IT'S WITH ANY REMOTELY ATTRACTIVE MAN TOO. I literally just want like a cute little fic where we both work at shield. Like I want a little slow burn, but in a cute way

[calxia]

when trump dies I will be making a cake and you're all invited to the party

[captnvbarnes]

➼ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹’𝑺 𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑫 | (17+) 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

theme — mcu zombie au!

pairings — bucky barnes x fem!reader, steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings — graphic gore, language, angst, undead themes, apocalypse (twd inspired zombies), substance abuse, graphic violence, use of weaponry, cannibalism, slight fluff, smut, character deaths, forbidden love, slow burn, inspiration taken from twd universe

summary — the outbreak had happened as quick as the first bite. one, then two, then 1/3 of the population became 2/3’s. before any of the avengers could comprehend this threat, it overcame them with new york’s rising population becoming undead. bucky is your protector, not by choice but by chance he was there just in time to save you. you two flew the compound, leaving the life you knew. leaving your husband to rot. as you two grapple what this new world has become, everything became too much. the world depended on you guys to save them, but how could you save anyone now? and when the blood runs and the nights become colder, who will save you?

This story is best suited for a mature audience, so read at your own discretion.

➽────────────────────❥

PROLOUGE

OUTBREAK DAY

RUN AWAY

LEAVE IT

FIRST GLANCE

THIS IS HOME?

ATHEN

TRIGGER BANG BANG

ASSISTANCE

CAMP HELLFIRE

SINNERS

MAROON SKY

STRAYING

I CAN’T GO ON WITHOUT YOU

GHOST IN THE WIND

A SHINY PEARL

WELCOME HOME

SAVOR THIS

IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE

RAPTURE

HOW ARE YOU GOING TO BREAK?

SAVE YOURSELF FOR SOMEONE ELSE

SALVATION

EPILOUGE

➽────────────────────❥

tag list <3

@buckystevelove @frombkjar

[harrelltut]

Us GOLDEN 144,000... 9 Ether ANUNNAGI GOLD ECONOMY [AGE] QUADRILLIONAIRES [AQUARIANS] Been Told U… Separate [U.S.] US Airport [USA] Terminals from the lower socioeconomic classes

ANU GOLDEN Economic [AGE] Upgrade 

WE DIFFERENT

WE EXTRA [WE] WEALTHY AF!!!

QHT MILITARY ELITES [ME] SO EXTRA TERRESTRIAL [SET] WEALTHY... WE CAUSED THOUSANDS OF FLIGHT DELAYS AND CANCELLATIONS ACROSS AMERICA

US GOLDEN 144,000... 9 ETHER ANUNNAQI GOLD QUADRILLIONAIRES FLY OUR OWN GOLDEN MILITARY UFOS [MU] ON NIBIRU [MOON] 

O MICHAEL [OM] GOLDEN [OMG] 9 ETHER GENIUS GOD DNA OF SKY GODDESS NINTI 

[antunesgavriel]

La Maison Rose dans une partie du sud-est brésilien. Architecture Photography South America.

[thewingedwolf]

NO MORE DISCOURSE IM THINKING ABOUT HOW T’KOR AND RUBINA ARE SO GOOFY AND THATS ALL LOOK AT THEM

[oifaaa]

We do have electric kettles but unless you were a dedicated tea drinker or enjoy pour over coffee (compared to other popular extraction methods). Not many have one.

Also we have plug covers.

Never said you guys didn't have kettles said you didn't have good ones which is true bc the voltage in your plugs is lower then the Irish/UK plugs it means the kettles take longer to boil and becomes more of an inconvenience i also never said you guys didn't have plug covers I just said you have to buy them separately they're not apart of the plug like the irish/UK plugs

[hellonerf]

caname dogboys would be soo awesome if the idea strikes your fancy!

gghhhggkkkkk i didnt know what dog breeds rhey should be so i made it basic

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 1

Pairing: Loki x reader (on going series)

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental health (depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts). Eventual loki x reader pairing.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 2 Series masterlist Main Masterlist

🧹🧹🧹

You stare up at the ceiling as you lay in bed next to the man who calls himself 'your saviour'. Every time he stirs in his sleep, you gasp and wince in fear of waking him. He is far better asleep than he will ever be awake.

Three years ago, you fell into the arms of a man you thought would help you. You were alone, homeless and desperate. Your parents had died in a house fire, which left you with nothing and no one. Naive, you trusted the first person that showed you an ounce of kindness. You had fallen intro a trap, one you thought was love, but was in fact a cage. Your parents had left you with a significant debt to repay to the crown. He forced you to work for him, do whatever he wants, in exchange for money to help pay off the debt. You have been stuck in this horrific home since, unable to do anything without consequence.

You haven't had a proper night's sleep in years. Your eyes are sunken with deep dark circles beneath. You hardly eat anymore.

You stopped feeling anything at all, years ago. All you feel is numb, like a zombie, a shell of your former self. A life that is so far away, the memories have long faded.

You're so lost in thought, gazing into nothingness when you're suddenly yanked out of the bed.

"Get up. You're leaving. I finally found a use for you." he spits at you.

You don't have enough energy to question him as you get up sluggishly and head to the bathroom to change.

As soon as you exit the bathroom, he is dragging you outside where a a dozen soldiers await; people are lined up in front of them.

"Here. Take her." he says to the guard as he shoves you towards him.

The soldier looks you up and down and nods. You're swept away by other men and hoisted onto the back of a carriage. Other men and women peer up at you in fear.

It doesn't take long for you to realize what has happened. You've been sold to the crown to be a worker. You stare at the floor and zone out, wondering if you will forever be forced to be at the mercy of others that are powerful and wealthy. As the carriage takes off, you feel nothing, you hear nothing, all you see is your so-called 'home' slowly fade behind the trees.

The others have fallen asleep as you stare out the carriage. You have no idea how long it has been but the sun has long set and it is deep into the evening when you arrive at the castle. The guards shuffle you out, line you up and assign you your duties.

"You." The woman points at you. "She will do." she says as she hands you a pile of clothes. You stare up at her as she clarifies your new job: maid.

The guards lead each group of workers to their designated quarters.

"You are maids. You will follow the schedule, with no excuses. You have been sold to serve for the crown. You will receive no pay. Your pay is the right to live in the castle. You will be provided food and shelter. Any act of disobedience will be punishable by any means appropriate that is decided upon the guards or anyone of higher status. You are to speak to no one. Do your job and stay quiet." The guard finishes explaining your new life then turns around and shuts the doors closed behind him with a loud bang.

The silence is deafening. Everyone too scared to say a word. They all choose a makeshift bed on the floor and prepare to get some sleep before the new day.

You sit in your cot and stare at the floor. You don't realize how much time had passed until the sun shining on your face and the guards are yelling at you all to wake up and start the day.

Will I ever know freedom? Will I ever find happiness? Or am I forced to succumb to this measely life until I die?

The first two weeks seem to pass without problems, until the guards decide to take it upon themselves to 'discipline' as they deem fit.

Most guards resort to name-calling, degradation or sometimes physical punishment. Nothing, nobody was as terrible as one who we called "Snake". He would slither his way into the chambers and choose his prey for the week, sometimes longer. He did as he pleased, if met with opposition, he would often beat them into submission.

You managed to avoid him as long as possible until one night, his large finger points towards you.

You stare at him, expressionless. You refuse to give him the pleasure of seeing your pain, your fear or your desperation. His eyes turn cloudy with anger as he watches you approach him, emotionless.

The others look at you with fear and pity as he drags you out of the maid's quarters towards his room.

He throws you on the floor and closes the door behind him.

"You think I don't know your little game, you harlot?" he sneers at you as he picks you up and slaps you so hard you fall to the floor, your cheek pulsating in pain.

He grabs your cheeks tightly with one hand and squeezes "You will fear me. You will obey me." he threatens you.

Once again, you stare at him blankly. You feel nothing, you haven't for a long time now.

He growls in frustration and punches you again, searching for any reaction; tears, a grunt, a whimper, anything, and yet you show nothing.

"You witch. Impossible. Everybody fears me." he yells at you as he strikes you again. You lay on the floor motionless, your nose and mouth bleeding.

"You will answer me when I speak to you!" he growls in anger as he strikes you again.

You stare up at him and remain silent.

"Are you deaf? mute? Useless! Maybe, you will be useful for other things instead...." he sneers at you as he smirks disgustingly with a knowing look.

Again, you stare at him blankly again. As he begins unbuckling his belt he says "Submit to me. You will do as I say, maid."

You start laughing which makes him look up at you in rage.

"You dare laugh at me?! You filthy servant!" he grabs you by the neck and holds you down tightly, slightly cutting off your airways but enough for you to remain awake.

"Submit to me!" he yells at you.

"Never." you croak.

He screams in a fit of rage and strikes you again. You continue to laugh.

"Witchcraft! You're a disgusting witch! Submit to me or I will have you burned at the stake!" he spits at you.

"I promise you, I will bite your dick off if it comes near me. The human jaw can be so powerful, sometimes a crowbar isn't strong enough to pry it open and I promise you I will not let go until my jaw is pried open." you threaten him as you begin laughing hysterically.

He stares at you in confusion, disgust and fear.

"I knew it! You're a witch!" He screams.

"Are you sure you want to test that theory?" you laugh at him.

He yells in frustration as he strikes you again "I said submit to me!"

You stare him directly in the eyes "No matter how loud the wind howls, the mountain will not bow down to it."

His eyes turn red with rage, he picks you up and throws you across the room. He kicks you on your side.

He continues hitting you as he demands you submit to him. You repeat the same word, almost as a prayer "Never".

You didn't care if you died or how, but you promised yourself that no matter how desperate you would become, you would never submit yourself to another man again, no matter the cost.

Once he is finally done he spits on you, drags you back to the maid's chambers and throws on you the floor as he slams the door behind him.

A few women crowd you and help you to your cot. You're bleeding from your nose and mouth. Your eye is black and swollen shut, your lip is split, your ribs hurt when you breathe.

Even after all that, you realize you still feel nothing. You stare up at the ceiling as the other women surround you to help clean your wounds.

From that moment on, you have been the subject to the Snake's abuse. You have spoken no words, except for "Never" every time the Snake commands you to submit to him. You would rather take on every physical punishment, than let him touch an inch of you.

A few weeks pass with the same abuse, except now other guards have partaken in it as well. You are now referred to as "witch" by the guards. They sneer at you when you walk past them. You keep your head held high and walk straight forward, without giving them a glance.

I am my own person. I have my own thoughts. I am not a puppet.

You repeat these phrases everyday in your head, like a chant to keep you grounded. You've taught yourself to recite small facts about your life to yourself in your head, such as your birthday, your favourite colour, your favourite author and book. It reminds you of who you are, of who they can never take away from you.

🧹🧹🧹

As the months go by, the abuse never ceases. It periodically skips you, allowing your body time to heal before being targeted again.

You have managed to be friendly with the other maids, but still keep to yourself and limit your words. You rarely speak and only do so when absolutely necessary. You decided it was safest for you this way.

You have been generally assigned menial maid tasks, such as cleaning the chambers of the guards or other members of higher status than you, until today. You’re assigned to clean King Loki's quarters. He owns an entire wing to himself, therefore you are to do it alone as he is very particular about his items. It was decided upon the head maid that you were the least likely to steal and most likely to complete the job to Loki's very high standards.

Without much of a choice, you accept the new assignment and make your way to his wing. As grateful as you are for this opportunity, to work alone and use the specialized cleaning supplies for the king, you were also in so much pain. The previous night was the harshest in a long time. The guards told you the king wanted to send you a personal message. By the end of it, you could hardly move and had to be dragged to your cot. Laying in bed, you wondered why the king would choose you for this punishment. You had done nothing wrong, what made you deserving of such poor treatment?

As you're walking to the kings wing, every step you take is followed by a limp and a wince. Nevertheless, the work had to be completed. The consequences were too severe if the work were not to be completed to his prestigious standards. If the king was willing to send you such a message the previous night as a warning for what was to come, the current pain was worth suffering through. From what you've heard the kings punishments never ended well. Nobody ever returned.

With that in mind, you headed to his wing with a slight limp and a wince under your breathe with every step.

Two week pass by and you've been permanently assigned to clean the kings wing, as per his request. You hope it is because he is satisfied with your work, rather than this be some cruel plan.

Once the guards heard of your new permanent position as the kings personal maid, their visits became daily. You were now the only maid being succumbed to their harsh treatment. You knew they were trying to sabotage you so the king would be displeased with your work and be rid of you.

Even so, everyday you wake up and perform your duties. You persevered and refused to let them think they won, no matter how painful, you always kept your head held high.

You're walking to the kings wing, products and cleaning items in hand when a guard approaches and swings his arm at you. You fall to the floor, Cleaning products go flying across the hall, splattering on the floor, against the wall and all over you.

"Tsk tsk tsk... what a shame... you better pray the king doesn't see this mess you caused...." he laughs as he walks over you.

You say nothing as you try getting up but slip on the soapy wet floor. You curse at the mess.

He can't see this. I have to clean this up. I can't be delayed, the king accepts no excuses for punctuality. He will kick me out on the streets... or worse... have me killed.

You get up shakily, holding on the wall for as much support as possible. Your body aches as you start mopping up the mess with speed that can only be explained by pure fear.

Once it's decently done you run to the next room and start cleaning as fast as possible. The pain from the abuse inflicted upon you daily is taking its toll. You decide you have to suck it up until you're done.

You're doing your final task: The king's bedroom. With one wrist against your chest, you clean the bedroom. You're trying to make the bed but can't do it with one hand. Shakily, you move your other wrist and try grabbing the sheets. You hiss in pain and pull back. You're slowing down, taking longer to do simple tasks. Your wrist is swollen wrist and throbbing in pain from the fall earlier. You can hardly move it.

You manage to finish making the bed and is finishing off by dusting the room, keeping your wrist to your chest to stabilize it as much as possible. As you were working through your pain, you didn't notice the time until you hear somebody clear their throat behind you.

You gasp in surprise and spin around.

"King Loki... your highness... I apologize for my tardiness... I-" you start rambling, your head looking down and your legs in a curtsy.

"The hall is a mess. You're late. Your work is very subpar today. I'm disappointed." he tells you coldly while staring you down.

You say nothing as to avoid accidentally insulting him or frustrating him further.

"Consider this your first and last warning. If this happens again, you will heed the consequences." He says to you, chin up, staring at you while you keep your eyes on your shoes.

You mumble another apology when he dismisses you.

You quickly run out of his bedroom. Your heart is racing, you're shaking.

You run to the maid's quarters and go to your cot, avoiding the others. You're staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you possibly escaped his wrath. Replaying the scene in your head, you realize you never looked at him. You've never seen the king in person, only in pictures.

Luckily, tomorrow is the weekend the guards go out to the neighbouring city as a security check-up. You stare at your wrist, which is now purple, blue and swollen. You go to the bathroom and lock the door so you're alone. You remove your clothes as take in a sharp breath as pain courses through your body. You use two wooden sticks you found outside earlier, to stabilize your wrist, hoping it will speed the healing process. When you look up at your reflection you notice the deep colouring littering your body. Purple, blue, yellow, green.... bruises in various levels of healing spread across your body.

You come to the conclusion that you need help... medical help. You slip on a night gown and make your way to the clinic where Dr. Banner resides. He is the only doctor the workers of lower status trust, as he is kind, caring and genuine.

He welcomes you in his room and questions why you came to him so late at night.

You say nothing. You lift your night gown and watch as his eyes widen in understanding. He turns around and files through his medical cabinet.

"Here. Take one pill a day for 3 days. It will completely numb your pain and significantly increase the healing process. Put this healing balm over your bruises and on your wrist, every night for a week." he says to you as he hands you the medicine.

You open your mouth to thank him when he lifts his hand up "No need... please stay safe... if ever you need anything, you know where to find me." his eyes filled with pain and compassion.

You nod and turn around to walk back to your cot.

You immediately spread the balm over your body once your in the bathroom and wrap what you can in bandages to keep it from absorbing into the clothes rather than your skin.

Laying down in bed, the adrenaline from the day wears off and fatigue takes over until you fall into a deep sleep.

Part 2

🧹🧹🧹

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Feedback is always welcome. Feel free to send me suggestions for scenes/drabbles that I could add into the stroy :)

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!