"Don't take another step towards her or I will rip you apart limb by limb," Hermes snarled at the armed men. "You are not allowed to take humans. You know this, now let her go before we come and get her ourselves." And with that all hell broke loose

"Do you know what to do, Amunet?" A voice as sweet as silk whispered into the young girl's ear. Amunet didn't look over her shoulder, but shifted uncomfortably on her bare feet before nodding her head. A soft hand touched her back and urged her forward. All eyes turned towards the girl dressed in transparent linen with her dark hair tumbling down her back and her violet eyes lined by kohl. Every movement caused the jewels on her wrists and ankles to dangle and shimmer in the light. She raised her head and found the Pharaoh's transfixed stare. His jade eyes narrowed in on hers and the room became still and silent. Amunet bowed and, at the pluck of a harp string, began to dance. --- DISCLAIMER: this story is NOT historically accurate. It does not take place in any real time period and therefore there will be inaccuracies and areas that don't make sense in the context of "ancient Egypt." CONTENT WARNING: though this story is not explicit (sexual or otherwise), it does mention more mature themes that may be troubling to some readers, including but not limited to forced prostitution and miscarriage. cover by @Addietay

He was a billionaire, I was a bellboy, can I make it anymore obvious? It all started one fateful afternoon in summer of 2012. I was working as a bellboy at the Trump Hotel in Hong Kong on an internship program. This was my first time in a big city. It was all I could have ever dreamed of, and more. But little did I know, it was all about to change. Follow me on twitter.com/aguywithnolife Please note, this story may contain mature humor that isn't suitable for all ages.

The family burns basics. Trashes tropes. Their daughter isn't out for blood. She's out for the person who started the cliche that ended her. ✯ ✯ ✯ "Even though I dip your toothbrush in the toilet bowl, excessively steal your clothes, purposefully annoy the hell out of you, and wish at every 11:11 that you'd be in a body bag the next morning - you're still my sister. And we will always have one another's back." ✯ ✯ ✯ "You're a cute banana." "Excuse me?" "Yellow on the outside, white on the inside." He read my silence as confusion and added, "Your little brother there is an Oreo; black on the outside, white on the inside. Your pretty sister over there is a coconut; brown on the outside, white on-" "What the shit. That's how you want to hit on me?" +++ Wendzel Baxtard, a feminist killjoy armed with heavy loads of sarcasm and marinates herself in self-respect, is ready to destroy the ethnic slurs and derogatory terms that were brought on her because of the clothes she wore and her sexual behaviors.