#I am angry at some arabs and at some Muslims for some things

[ofekma]

I hope that I don't make any Arab of Muslim person feel bad. Not in the sense of "I can't be islamphobic because I am a Good Person™", in the sense of that I do have a lot of complicated feelings right now but I don't want any of those to be hatred for people who are not like.... Actively killing or getting people killed.

I'm sick and tired of being scared and sad and angry but I don't want those feelings to lead to other people getting hurt.

It's not easy and fun to be an Arab or a Muslim nowdays too. I know that. They don't deserve any harm. I'm sorry if I made anyone feel like they can't be safe around me.

[whimsycore]

Literally nothing in my life makes sense and there’s no escape from it. Even when I try to put my head down and ignore everything.

[obsxssedwithstuff]

I just had a bad real-life experience for the first time, and my day has been ruined. I was at school, already not having a great day, hanging out with my friends and some from the year above us. As the break ended, a girl I didn't know, but who was friends with one of my friends, said something along the lines of "-and I'm not even German!" Which is completely fine, neither am I. So I asked her where she was from, and she said she was from Lebanon. In response, I told her that I really like Lebanon bc it's a cool country (at least in the 70's/80's). They also have great food but I forgot to tell her. (I genuinely do not have a problem with random arabs/muslims just living their lives. I go to hang out at the arab shop in town quite often, and they all know I'm Israeli but prefer to just say I'm a yemeni jew as that is also my heritage, which only bothers me a bit). Then the girl asked me where I was from, and I said Israel. Her response: "Oh, Palestine! Nice country."

I didn't really have time to react, or else I would've probably started discussing it with her, but as the break had already ended, I just said "yeah but not really."

I think that was really disrespectful of her as she literally just denied the existence of Israel, and tbh thats kinda a Hamas thing and genuinely just disrespectful to me when I didn't even remotely involve politics. Anyway, I hope I get a chance to discuss this with her cause that's just plain ignorant and wrong.

I'm not even angry. I'm just disappointed...

[queenwille]

are you pro-israel/anti-palestine?

hi, first, i appreciate you asking very politely and not assuming things.

i’ll say i’m a zionist, which isn’t an offensive word. i believe in the right of the jewish people for self determination in the form of a jewish state in the land of israel, the promised land of the jewish people.

i find calling israel, the only jewish state in a sea of muslim/christian states, an “ethostate” and mocking the jews for feeling the need in one, as very antisemitic rude and offensive. that goes without mentioning how ignorant and rude it is to claim all jews are white europeans. literally cancelling the whole rich history of the jewish people in the arab countries (which they were mostly chased out of as well).

the need to live within your given or chosen community is such a natural thing, even animals do it. for some reason, when it comes to israel and the jews, it’s wrong. before anyone starts, please let me remind you that within this very large jewish community, there are 2.5 million arabs (mostly muslim, some christian). they share equal rights, a citizenship and an israeli ID/passport. yes, even the sister of the top hamas man (who was arrested this week for having documents and money linked to hamas, a terror organization).

that being said, i am in no shape or form, nor never was i, anti palestine. i think it’s just not as simple as some people who joined the hot trend across the world see it. the state of palestine was never established for many reasons that don’t involve the jewish people. i do mean this when i say i do wish the palestinian people a safe and established land, but it’s simply not that easy. it really isn’t no israel=yes palestine. they have so many other needs other than demolishing the land of israel. their inner conflicts are very much alive to this day (google fatah/hamas conflict), their lack of actual support from neighboring countries and other reasons they have there. they’re really not at a good starting point, but no one ever talks of that. it’s just easier to masturbate to the idea that protesting in favor of demolishing israel and sending +-7,000,000 jews to fuck knows where will be enough.

let me make it clear, the fact that civilians are being killed and hurt breaks my heart. i say this knowing fully well that many took part in the oct7 massacre. generations, on both sides, being brought up with nothing but hate and fear of each other boiled up to this disaster. which is why i find the whole western pro pal movement, spreading fake news and hate and deepening the conflict, as not just offensive, but also very dangerous. for both sides (+diaspora jews). calling hamas freedom fighters and not the terror organization that they are is as dangerous to the palestinians as as it is dangerous to israelis/jews. they are given actual legitimacy for actions that are considered extremist and terror on an international level. yes, they do hide in UN protected facilities, using inocentes as human shields. and when we say the west is next, it’s not just a spicy slogan, it’s not really about the jews, but the western culture.

i am very angry of the way the hostages are being ignored or bluntly canceled (ripping off their posters everywhere). it’s hypocritical and very upsetting. i will also mention that i seriously don’t appreciate using the jewish holocaust and appropriating it’s terms and the well known generational jewish trauma and mocking it.

lastly, i would like to mention that a lot of what’s happening right now around the world just proves the need in a jewish state. being close with an army that’s main goal is protecting its people literally feels safer for jews even under missiles and terror attacks. let me inform you that the main reason that israeli casualties are lower, is the invention of the Iron Dome, operated by the IDF. It has saved thousands of civilian lives since it’s first use. no, it wasn’t hamas’ more humane ways or idk what i read. israel literally spends every last dime to keep it’s people safe, while hamas won’t even let the palestinian people have a safe hospital. instead of mocking our worries and constant feeling of being persecuted and in danger, to the point that a jewish state feels like a life or death matter, maybe try to think what you can do to change that. saying we’re delusional or closing mouths when we claim for antisemitism isn’t helping, and it sure isn’t what’s currently happening in the world and social media.

again, thanks for asking. i have so much more to say and that’s before actually going into current antisemitism or even into october 7th, i just think i’ll stop here for now. i hope this somewhat answers your question.

[stephobrien]

I’m coming from my vent account because I don’t want to get found out as a Jew on my main. Please, please stop posting in the antisemitism tag. You’re clogging it up and taking away a safe space for Jews by trying to delegitimise Jew hatred. Now, I don’t know if you’re good faith or not, but I’m leaning on no. You keep on going onto posts about Jew hatred from Jews, saying what boils down to ‘wow! I’ve learned so much from this!’ and then you go back to posting inflammatory things again. I mean, you posted something from Caitlin Johnstone, I can’t believe that you give a single shit about Jews (or Ukrainians) after that

As for your most recent post on how poor you just can’t believe lying Jews when we talk about discrimination because you’re scared we’re deceiving you, you put in a comment ‘If I'd seen said Arab nations' governments massacring thousands of civilians, while painting every single criticism of said massacre as Islamophobic, yes, I would have’. This is… I don’t even know how to tackle this, do you genuinely not know all of the horrific shit so many of the Arab states have done? Qatar is known as one of the biggest countries of modern slavery. The Houthis in Yemen sex traffic Ethiopian women, and also reintroduced slavery into Yemen. Just look at the atrocities so many of these countries have committed against Shia Muslims! Is your brain mush, how can you say this when there is so, so much evidence of the horrors that these nations have committed?! And if you think these states graciously accept criticism of those horrors… you’re being ignorant on purpose. And it’s still not okay to say that you don’t believe an Arab when they talk about anti Arab racism that they’ve experienced, I think we can at least agree on that. So why’s it not the same for Jews?

For a more personal example to Jews, look up the Mizrachi expulsion. The Arab states violently expelled almost a million Jews from their countries ‘because Israel’, which they only care about because it ruined their dream of pan Arabism, not because of any solidarity with the Arabs in the mandate btw. My family was lucky, we came from Iran, which is not Arab, so the violence was coming from the people rather than the state itself. But I’ve had to heard accounts from people talking about how they watched their family get shot in the head while their homes were repossessed for no reason other than the fact they were Jews. Is that bad enough for you? Does it even make a dent in your image of the Arab states? Or is it okay because it happened to Jews?

I know I sound very angry in this, and that’s because I am very angry. And that anger is completely justified! My life, and the lives of almost every Jew on this disgusting website, have been beyond horrible for five months. The number of times I’ve had to read about a new Jew hating shooting or stabbing in the world is too many too count. And then, non Jews like you decide to play the ‘oops, I just caaaan’t believe those Jews about Jew hatred because they could be zionists!’ (Which are around eighty percent of the Jewish population, but I don’t think you’re ready for that conversation yet, it’s reserved for people who actually want to learn). All of us are so unimaginably angry. All of us are at our fucking breaking point, or we’ve completely snapped already! The people you have interacted with have been some of the kindest, most levelheaded people here, but you’d better not get used to it, because we’re all tired of this bullshit

Thank you for taking the time to call me out. Between you and the several other people who contacted me about this, I’ve come to realize that that post was a terrible mistake.

It was meant to be a vent post about people who deliberately blur the lines around what’s actually antisemitism, and about my lack of certainty about my own ability to independently assess the less obvious instances of that (which is clearly still very lacking, as the response to that post made clear to me).

But it apparently caught a lot of innocent Jews in the crossfire, making them feel unsafe, unheard, and delegitimized. That wasn’t the intention, but it was clearly the effect. I screwed up badly, and I’m sorry.

I admittedly don’t know all the details about the horrific shit Arab nations have done. I was aware of Iraq’s government mass murdering protesters, and Saudi Arabia’s horrifically sexist laws, but some of the info you shared in this post is stuff I hadn’t previously heard of.

As for why I mentioned false accusations of antisemitism specifically, it’s because that’s the one I’ve seen several times a day lately, sometimes in the form of stuff like telling people who protest child murder that “You just don’t like it when Jews defend themselves.”

That said, you and the other people who responded have made it clear to me that that focus was based on an overly narrow view on my part. I’ve been more active in pro-Palestine circles than in circles that focus on the other situations you mentioned, so naturally that resulted in me seeing more antisemitism accusations than accusations focused on groups that aren’t directly involved in that conflict. So that resulted in a less than balanced viewpoint.

While my vent post was meant to be about one specific phenomenon I’d personally seen a lot of, the fact that I didn’t mention similar behavior on the part of groups I hadn’t personally seen as much of that behavior from did result in it being unjustly targeted, in a way I didn’t intend but should’ve assessed better.

What happened to you and other Jews at the hands of Arab nations (and pretty much every nation) was absolutely not okay. The effect my post had on you and other Jews who saw it was not okay. The treatment you’ve endured on Tumblr is not okay. And I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.

You have every right to be angry at me. I won’t ask you to forgive me or trust me, because I know I earned your anger with that poorly thought out post. I shouldn’t have made my own insecurities and frustrations other people’s problem like that. I screwed up badly, and I’m sorry.

[saharadesertlady]

Here’s looking at you, kid

I’m a very impulsive person by nature. I don’t think things to death, or at all for that matter. I am a 35 year old single woman with ADHD who has no dependents and no tethers, so naturally when my aunt sent me an instagram post about a Morocco tour I booked it immediately. I’m still waiting for the day that my impulsivity gets me into trouble but honestly, in hindsight, I don’t know why everybody in the world doesn’t just impulsively book a trip to Morocco. So hopefully this blog will inspire some impulsivity in you.

I landed pretty late at night in Casablanca and was met with the first Morocco cliche that I read about: Forex consultants will get you to put your Moroccan Dirhams (MAD) on a travel card which you can tap and use at ATMS. You will quickly find that outside of major city centres the ATMs do not work, the cards come with a fee and also the consultant gets commission for every card they sell. Don’t fall for it. Take hard cash. Moroccan cliche 2: Taxi operators hounding you at the airport. I was met by one such young man straight out of the gates. When I agreed he pointed me to a chair and told me to wait. He then proceeded to hound every other person coming out of arrivals in an effort to fill up his taxi. It was 10pm at night and after 45 minutes of waiting I left and decided to book a Careem (Arab Uber).

Cue Morocco cliche 3: Careem app quotes MAD350 for the trip but when I got to the hotel he told me that after 11pm the charges double so I now have to pay a very angry Arab man MAD500. Advice online is to heckle but as a solo female traveller late at night I gave in. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.

I was warned not to wander around Casablanca late at night by myself so I didn’t venture out much. To be honest Casablanca was rather unremarkable so I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much, so I went to bed happy in the knowledge that the next day would bring my tour of the King Hassan II mosque. It’s 210m tall minaret, lush gardens, expansive courtyards and magnificent mosaic walls are breathtaking. It can fit 25,000 people inside the mosque and an additional 80,000 people in the gardens and courtyards. The mosque hugs the Atlantic coastline and has glass floors in some places so worshippers can stand and prostrate directly above the ocean.

I’ve always had an issue with elaborate mosques. They can be very distracting, with so much for the eyes and ears to absorb that your mind tends to wander away from prayer, and additionally elaborate monuments cost a great sum. This one apparently costed around $750m, funded by the King directly as well as public funding. But great men of history have been building monuments to themselves and other great men since time immemorial and they’ve almost always been built on the financial and physical backs of the common people.

But this is the thing with African, Arabian and many East Asian cultures. Love for their monarchies is still an engrained thing. Pictures of previous kings can be found in government buildings, but also cafes, convenience stores and even in peoples homes. They speak of their leaders with an almost fearful reverence, as if the men themselves might jump out of the pictures and arrest them for treason right then and there.

However, as someone who has travelled to the Muslim Holy lands of Makkah, Medina and 🍉 and prayed at some of the holiest sites in the world I wasn’t entirely sold on the intricately carved granite walls from the Atlas Mountains, the engraved marble from Agadir or the hand blown and painted glass windows from Murano, Venice. But I’ll tip my hat to the beautiful mosaic murals which are a nod to Moroccan culture.

Tours for non-Muslims are only available with the use of guides. Women must cover legs and arms. Tour entry was about MAD11.

[wheresmytowel]

[...]“I know Vivian Silver who is right now presumed a hostage in Gaza. She’s someone I worked with. If I post about her, I will get messages from some of my Muslim or Arab friends who are angry and saying, ‘Aren’t you seeing what’s happening in Gaza?’” he said.

“Or if I post about somebody who was killed in Gaza, I get crazy angry messages like, ‘No, right now you need to only worry about what Hamas did to Israel, and how could you talk about this? This supports Hamas.’ Literally. It’s just so hardcore.”

Abu Sarah, who grew up in the West Bank, travelled his own path from throwing stones at Israeli soldiers and seeing his brother die from internal injuries the family said were the result of torture while detained without trial in an Israeli prison.

“When I was in high school and there were suicide bombings, there were kids that would say, ‘I’m also for resistance, even armed resistance, but suicide bombing isn’t armed resistance, it’s killing kids, it’s killing women, and we shouldn’t be doing that.’ And then others would say, ‘No, we have the right to do whatever we can,’” he said.

“Growing up, I had this way of thinking. If I sympathise at all with anything Israeli, with anything Jewish, then I’m accepting this whole occupation. It took me a long time to come to understand I can be sympathetic, I can understand the pain, I can speak against our own violence and at the same time speak out against the occupation and speak out against Israeli violence. Those are not mutually exclusive.”

Abu Sarah said he has no problem condemning the Hamas attack but understands why others hesitate.

“I do accept that what Hamas did was horrific. I have personally no issue with saying it, but I know why people do,” he said.

Abu Sarah said some Palestinians struggled to believe that Hamas would have committed such terrible crimes against Israeli civilians, even though the group has a history of suicide bombings and killings of non-combatants.

“The other part is if I admit that Hamas did this, then am I justifying what Israel is doing in Gaza? If I say, it was horrible, it is absolutely unacceptable, then am I saying Israel’s response is okay?” he said.

Some Palestinian Americans say they are subject to a double standard in being asked to condemn Hamas before being permitted to talk about the bombing of Gaza. They say Jewish Americans are not expected to jump through the same hoops in condemning occupation before being heard about the deaths of Israelis.

Discussion is not helped by a barrage of misinformation and propaganda. Abu Sarah said he spends a lot of time pushing back against false claims including a video on social media that supposedly showed one member of Hamas telling another to rape a woman during the 7 October attack.

“I’m listening in Arabic and that’s not what he said. I’m not denying that we might have seen similar things happening but that’s not what he says. So I sent my friend a message saying that this is just not true. Their response was, ‘Well, I’m sure something like this happened so it doesn’t matter if it’s true,’” he said.

“So there is this feeling that I have to defend my people or the side I think is right even if it’s a lie. It’s a kind of tribalism.” [...]

[espressokiri]

Heyy, I’m Muslim and I’m also a huge simp for Todoroki, Bakugo, Iida, and Kaminari. Soooo can I have them with a Muslim (possibly hijabi) s/o?

Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, Iida Tenya, and Kaminari Denki x Hijabi!reader

In which reader is a hijabi Muslim.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff (literally half these ideas came from late night talks with my bestie @that-weirdo-in-the-corner)

Note: My first headcanon <3 I hope you like it!

Todoroki Shoto

We’re all aware of this mans lack of physical affection and aloof nature, along with his social awkwardness. That’s a recipe for odd encounters and hilarious misunderstandings.

This man gained interest in you when he noticed you were elegant even while in training/battles, along with your sweet nature and fashionable modest wear.

He researched about your religion and had found out that only women who are married are allowed to go out alone with their partners.

Poor boy didn’t read/research enough.

He decides to get to know you from a distance, respecting your boundaries and it wasn’t that hard to avoid physical contact as he himself was not one to initiate it.

When you did get closer and formed an emotional bond, you’ll be met with the weirdest encounter;

“Shoto, what are you doing?” You blinked, not understanding what the half-and-half male was doing bent on one knee with a ring box outside your family home.

“I read that we can only go out on dates together if you’re married.”

You want to smack your head on the wall but you were flattered at the same time.

Had to tell him that you were allowed on dates if you were chaperoned by a family member or friends.

Had Fuyumi chaperone you two, she was very delighted but had kept watch from a distance.

Shoto has the best time learning about your religion, curiously asking questions and gains a deeper understanding of how things were in your perspective.

He keeps a respectful distance even during dates, making sure he wasn’t crossing boundaries.

Would scour the whole of Japan to find halal food.

Tells you that he called Endeavour shaytaan and you choke on the water you were sipping on, laughing out loud.

Fasts with you one day and is betrayed at how full he felt after one bite.

Hands you Endeavour’s exclusive credit card for Eid.

Todoroki is just very genuine and he tries his best to keep you comfortable around him, also carries hijab pins in his backpack just in case you need some.

Bakugou Katsuki

Oh God.

Listen, he’s very respectful in his own way but it took him time to work through it with his competitive nature.

Man has done his research thoroughly and he is ready to commit.

“I can cook us a vegetarian meal that won’t be boring to the tastebuds like the crap they sell out there.”

That’s his way of asking you out, making sure his parents would be home too because he knows two people of different genders should not be left alone.

Makes the best damn vegetarian dish. Vegetarian because he has yet to figure out what halal is.

Tries to learn some words, does excellent but his way of speaking is even more aggressive than an Emirati accent. He has your Arab friends shaking in their shoes.

It’s Ramadan? Prepare for three am calls that consist of him yelling at you to get up. Yes, he breaks his sleep pattern to wake you up to eat. Yes, he makes you video call him so he makes sure you eat well and hydrate. Yes, he ends up fasting with you so you don’t feel alone. Will he tell you that? No.

Sometimes he makes Iftar for you and brings it in a bento, giving it to you after school so you can have a good meal.

Watches you with wide eyes and mouth open in shock when he sees you eating when you’re supposed to be fasting;

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO EAT YET!”

“I- I’m on my period?”

“SO?”

“We’re not allowed to fast while we’re on our period.”

He stays quiet the rest of the day.

Admires different styles of hijab you do.

Eid? He’s the best dressed alongside you. 

Bakugou would be a good partner, respectable, and tries his best to understand and make you feel comfortable in his own way.

Iida Tenya

This boy knows everything already.

Has done research the second he realized there was a Muslim classmate, and as a good fellow class president it was his duty to make sure everyone was comfortable.

Has extra scarves with a small tin full of pins for you kept under his desk in case of emergencies or if they get damaged in training (which wouldn’t happen as Hatsume had created one that would resist damage.) It was a nice thought.

He does slowly wants to get to know you more as your sweet nature made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Keeps a respectful distance at all time.

“Asalam Alaikum, Y/n! It has come to my attention that Ramadan is nearing soon so I have made a list of dietary necessities you may need to intake in order to help your quirk during the holy month.”

“Iida, that’s so sweet of you! You didn’t have to! Also, how did you pronounce that so well?”

“As you class president and friend, I am honoured to do such! To answer your question, I had listened to someone say it on repeat before I practiced.”

This man has every word on repeat just to soak it in his brain.

Averts his eyes even if he sees your ankle, angry at himself for accidentally glancing.

Sir, I promise it’s not a sin to look at an ankle accidentally.

Sees your Hijab bunching up and start showing bits of your neck and shoulder? Grabs the end of the scarf and pulls it down to cover again, avoiding touching your skin.

Checks the ingredients list of the snacks you’re buying for gelatine or alcohol, making sure it’s halal/vegetarian/vegan friendly.

Upset you can’t find halal gummies? This man goes online and orders a bag of certified halal sweets for you to enjoy because you deserve simple joys like this.

Makes sure you pray on time, has the MuslimPro app on his phone to keep track.

He also scrolls through the app to learn more.

Iida is a perfect gentleman and he’s also making sure that you stay spiritually on track and don’t get distracted <3

Kaminari Denki

This man is a physically affectionate person. 

He will make the mistake of bounding over to you and slinging an arm around your shoulder or pull you into a hug.

But he will learn and try to control the affectionate urges, limiting himself to hand holding if you allow it.

He thinks you look wonderful with the different coloured hijabs.

Tries making you wear a yellow and black one to match his hair.

Forgets that you can’t eat everything and anything, especially casual things like gummies.

Will apologize profusely when he realizes after you tell him it has gelatine.

Tries to stave off of gelatine infused products.

“Not even water???”

“Denki, I swear to God I’m going to smack you.”

Yes he’s that guy.

Tries fasting with you, just sleeps through the whole day till it was time to eat.

When he see’s you dozing off in class because of staying up all night either because of suhoor or special night prayers during the last ten days, he’ll zap you to keep you paying attention.

He is honestly your hype man when it comes to modest fashion, especially during Eid. This boy will dramatically kneel on the floor and look at you like you’re the light of his life.

Get’s excited when you hand him Eid money because you love him and he has cute child-like tendencies.

Tries greeting your family members, comes out as gibberish.

“Asalamasjdaskjdhashjs”

“Not quite there yet, Denki. A-plus for effort.”

He’s a fun guy who tries to better himself around you, making sure he’s aware of his actions and makes an effort to not mess up around you because he’s never felt so in love with a person as he has with you.

[greektravelblog]

Day... whatever?

Y'all thought I was slacking on my last post.

Weelllll

Alright most of you know I had covid and had to quarantine for five days, and I thought I was going nuts quarantining in my house two years ago when I was exposed.

This. Sucked.

I was stuck in a 20x20 room, thank god with a balcony, and the only bright spot was that I didn't have to share a bathroom with anyone. Although I have been released from my tiny room, I still have to wear an N-95 mask until Sunday. It sucks but I am just so thankful WHO changed the quarantine requirements. Otherwise I'd be bored to tears. So not much to talk about for those days.

I finally got out yesterday and went to my classes. Nothing spectacular for the day, nor today most likely, but I did learn some cool things.

So my art class is easily my favorite, the professor is descriptive and gives us more than the technical view of ancient Greek art, she provides us with the classical stories and events that influenced it as well. We discussed this piece below:

So, this piece is located in Delphi and was a statue dedicated for their panhellenic games. It's made of bronze (ya girl was the only one to answer that question, dad) and it's obviously missing a few pieces. It would've had horses as well! We have very very few bronze statues left because they were often melted down to make new statues, weapons, or currency. But the rarity and material isn't why I love it.

IT HAS EYELASHES

LIKE THESE SUCKERS ARE MADE OF BRONZE TOO!!!!11!1

AND THE EYES? NOT BRONZE!

THEY"RE STONE

LIKE THE MASTERY AND BEAUTY AND SKILL REQUIRED FOR THIS!

The eyes are a mix of white and brown stone and provide a beautiful contrast to the rest of the piece. The statue would've been decorated with gold and silver as well, since silver remnants were found in place of his headband!

(Also the man has freaking sideburns, this is just a masterpiece on every level!)

Anyways, I took my midterm so I'm praying that that went over well. I'll get my results by monday.

Not much else happened yesterday, other than seeing this lil guy (he ain't little though lemme tell you.)

My second class was another reality check into just how much the western world has screwed over the Middle East. Like, Lord it's no wonder some of them hate us. WWI consisted of the British and the French forcefully drafting Arabs into fighting a war they wanted nothing to do with. Not only that, but the Ottoman Empire were friends with Germany. Germany was the only western country to actually create a friendship with them and a mutually beneficial relationship that treated each party fairly. So when the war came, Muslim was fighting against Muslim and around 60,000 of them died by disease (brought by the invading Britain and France) and frostbite alone. The professor for this class isn't the best, and he's obviously extremely biased whether he realizes it or not, but the documentary he's showed us is wonderfully informative. More so than him.

Today will consist of me cranking out my midterm paper for my Middle Eastern History class. It's not too bad, only 2000 words, and I will be doing so in the library. Hopefully next to that rad fish tank they got. I'll let yall know if something cool happens, but today is likely to be chill. Tomorrow, though, I'm going to the Acropolis museum again with my class so I'll likely have more to share.

See y'all later!

Things I've taken away from today:

Greeks don't cut down trees if they can help it. They build around them.

I love art history when it's taught with competence

I'm increasingly angry about the treatment of the Middle East by the western world.

(Don't take that to mean I'm not supporting women. But since I don't live there and it's not my religion, it is not my place to begin the movement that may not be wanted or needed. It IS my job to support those of that culture who start it and ask for help.)

I'm pissed at myself for forgetting to pack tylenol cold.

Greek people are intimidating, but all of them are nice. (Looking at you, Mr. Barista at Starbucks. Thanks for remembering my exact order even after not being here for a week)

[221bshrlocked]

Follow Your Heart

Pairing: Ardeth Bay x Reader

Words: 12,609. Please do not hate me. I put markers to where you can stop and continue later

Warnings: Some pining. Little bit of angst. Definitely some fluff. And as you should know by now, smut. Unusual dirty talk in the sense that it is more romantic than dirty. Hopefully it gets you going though.

A/N: I have not written anything in so long and I apologize that this is not what you expected (aka Bucky or Steve) after the on/off hiatus. I am genuinely surprised considering this is the longest story I have written. I’m trying my hand at something completely different and since there are a few of us out there thirsting for Ardeth Bae Bay, I hope you like this. And shout out to @mss4msu for literally handing me the Middle Egyptian and Hieratic on a platter because Lord knows I still suck at this and she is a genius. Also, Happy Birthday friend, you know who you are. Lastly, refer to this for an in depth disclaimer for this fic.

~I~

It was a quiet day, one of the few since you’ve arrived with Evy on the site. You weren’t one to tag along with her or her husband, but you couldn’t pass a chance to visit a place like Luxor, not when it was your professor’s favorite city. Being one of Sir Gaston Maspero’s students, you’ve heard all about the temple, this side of the Nile even, and you’d always wanted to come to it, not just for research purposes but to enjoy the magic that was Egypt. 

You always envied Evy for living in this place for so long, even wished you were favored by the librarians and professors like her, but she was much more charming, beautiful even. You were the cousin no one paid mind to, apart from the Professor of course. He had always favored you amongst the others and you didn’t mind it, not when you were learning about the greatest civilization in the world. You had always wished to be more connected to this land but sadly, you weren’t. Your only connection was the knowledge of the languages and the culture, not a parent you could always speak of during parties and galas. 

Looking up from your notebook, you placed it aside and sipped from your afternoon tea, eyes searching the landscape in front of you, hoping the sands and waves would tell you something, anything about the place you were in. It has been years since you’ve spoken with your Professor, wishing he was here with you, telling you all the secrets whispered to him by the stones. He always had a sense of things around him, and he once told you that you had that same instinct but you brushed it off. If you did, it hasn’t made itself visible yet. You’ve been here for months now, without a new find or anything to write about back home. 

But like Evy, you weren’t one to give up so easily, constantly searching for the impossible. A breeze flew through your hair, your skin shivering for the first time in a long time. The summer was close to ending and while it was unbearably hot during the day, the night could be even deadlier. You drank the rest of your tea and were collecting your notebooks when a few papers flew away. Immediately, you ran after them before they fell in the water, managing to catch all but one. You were about to jump in the water when a hand flew and grasped your wrist, pulling you back before you stepped any further.

“Wha-”

“The waters are not safe in these parts of the country.” Your eyes shifted back and forth between the man’s own dark orbs and his hand. He finally let go, staring at you as he passed and went into the water to collect your page. You hoped it was soaked enough that he wouldn’t see what was in it, sighing in relief when he came back out with what used to be a sketch.

“You must be careful. We do not need anymore incidents around here.” He threw the wet paper in your hands before walking away from the hill, yelling something to the men working around the temple before getting on his horse and leaving. You sighed before throwing the page away, hating how you somehow always made a fool out of yourself in his presence. You had not expected to see him today. Rick and Evy weren’t around so he had no reason to be here, or so you thought. You walked back to your tent to wash up before dinner, telling the men it was time for them to go home. 

"في أي وقت تريدننا أن نأتي غدا يا انسة؟" 

Miss, is there any specific time you wish us to come tomorrow?

One of the men yelled out to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and waiting for your response. Your Arabic was that of a child’s and although you loved practicing it with the men and the people in the village, you hated how it came out like that of a toddler’s, sometimes grammatically incorrect and other times completely wrong. But you struggled through a response anyway, smiling at them before replying to the leader of the workmen.

"يمكنكم الراحة غدا وسأخبركم لاحقًا."

You can rest tomorrow and I will let you know later when you can come in.

They put their tools near your tent and left, thanking you and bidding you a good night. You were aware of the position you were in and at times, truly disliked it. You thought of maybe giving them a week or two break but you weren’t sure how that would go with your superiors back in Oxford. Once everyone had left, you brought food and water to your guards and asked them to take the night off. Both of them turned to each other and thanked you for the opportunity but told you they would remain nearby. When you realized they would still do whatever they wanted, you thanked them and left back to your tent.

You left them chatting about some wedding coming up and went back to your tent, shutting all sides before stripping down and showering. You were thankful for the men’s expertise on setting up this tent. They left you a place near one of the palm trees, closed from all sides so you could wash up quickly if you needed to. It was your favorite part of the day, standing in the middle of the desert and surrounded by the ancient air. Finishing up quickly, you left your hair down to dry naturally, wrapping yourself in a night robe before walking out of the little room. As soon as you looked up, you almost squealed, hand clasping at your chest for air. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Your words were a mix of anger and fear, body refusing to budge from its place until the figure in front of you said something. When he continued to stare at you, you cleared your throat and moved to pour some wine for yourself. “I thought you had left.” You turned around and saw he was still staring at you, his eyes following the droplets of water falling on your shoulders. 

When he continued to remain silent, you sipped from your glass and sat opposite of him. “I’m assuming Rick and Evy are coming soon then?” 

“What makes you say that?” His response was laced with sarcasm and you hated how he sounded, how he always treated you. Perhaps it was the heat finally getting to your head or the long hours in the field, maybe even the wine, but you’ve had enough.

“Seeing as you are never around unless they are, I thought they would be coming. We both know you are not here out of interest…” Your words trailed off and you looked up, surprised to see his demeanor change, however, not for the better. Without any hesitation, his frowning expression followed you as he stood, walking towards your chair and leaning down enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“Never ask your guards to leave.” His eyes darted to your lips but for a moment, watching the wine stain them a dark red before he pulled away and growled something in Arabic you didn’t quite catch, walking through the little opening in the tent and leaving you a mess. You downed the rest of your drink and crawled under your covers, finding it impossible to sleep now that you were so close to him. The man did things to you ever since you met him and you hated it. Somehow, you were always like a dog in heat whenever he was around. You weren’t sure what it was that was attractive about him; between his nearly black eyes and plump lips, and his dominant yet kind personality, you were sure there would never be another that would catch your attention. 

But it was just your luck that he absolutely despised you, constantly calling you out whenever Evy and Rick were around or, when they weren’t, ordering you around like you were a child who couldn’t care for herself. You wished you could know what it was that made him regularly angry with you but you opted to thinking it was because you were a complete outsider that, like her cousin, dug around in places where she didn’t belong. You chose to fall for a man that couldn’t stand you, a man that had every reason to not like you or your family, a man who could have any woman in his bed should he ask, a man whose sole purpose was to keep Egypt's secrets hidden from the curious eyes of the world. 

A man who went by the name of Ardeth Bay.

~II~

It had never occurred to you that the day would come when you could speak with a living being who belonged to an ancient tribe. While the modern Egyptians you interacted with were descendants of the ancients, whether of the Coptic or Muslim traditions, it amazed you that one of the least known tribesmen were among you to this day. In any text you read, administrative and personal, you could always find hints of the Medjay’s presence. In the royal letters, they were those who protected the deserts of Seth, the Pharaoh himself, and sometimes even the borders of the country. In the personal ones, although rarely mentioned, they were described as ones who never carried out much interaction with the population, always keeping to themselves or helping out wherever they were needed in a village before leaving. They patrolled the lands at times, making sure there were no Hittite or Akkadian spies seeking to destroy Pharaoh. 

Now, the chieftain of the Medjay was another story. He was constantly mentioned in any type of literary texts. Most of the times, he was mentioned by name and on behalf of his people. He was the most important of the Medjay for obvious purposes. You continued scribbling absentmindedly in your notebook, not paying attention to what it was you were writing down. You fell out of your haze when you heard a commotion in front of your tent. Looking at your watch, you jumped out of your bed when you realized you’ve been idle for an hour, quickly putting on your robe before exiting the tent.

“Is everything alright?” You saw the two guards arguing with a few women from the village, immediately walking up to them to see what was wrong.

“There is nothing to concern yourself with Miss.”

“Please, tell me.” You saw the two men look at each other before nodding at the women. 

"يريدونك ان تحضر حفلة زفاف صديقتهن الليلة."

They want you to attend their friend’s wedding tonight.

The women stood there in silence until you decided and although you wished to go, you weren’t sure you would be welcomed, especially if the bride and the groom did not know. You struggled with what you wanted to say and hoped you would make sense to them. 

"انا اتشرف لكن هل تعرف العروس أنكم طلبتن مني؟" 

It would be my honor, but does the bride know you came and asked me?

They smiled at your broken Arabic and nodded in unison before telling you that she was the one who asked them to come and invite you. They told you she would have come herself but she was preparing for the wedding in a few hours. You told them you would be more than happy to come and laughed when one of the younger girls jumped and hugged you before kissing both of your cheeks. The men did not look pleased at your decision but said nothing, telling you that one of them would stay on site while the other accompanied you to the wedding. And when you tried to tell them there was no reason to do so, they told you it was non-negotiable. 

So you left back to your tent to dress more properly before making the regular morning rounds, grabbing your notebook and heading to the other side of the temple where you have yet to excavate. You had asked permission from the townspeople first, and although you thought they would not grant you access since the mosque built on the site was still in use, they surprisingly agreed as long as you didn’t damage any part of the prayer house. You found a bolder near the mosque and sat on it, sketching the grounds first before going anywhere near the mosque. 

You stayed there for hours, losing all sense of time when your thoughts strayed away from the place to something, or rather, someone else. Flipping through the pages, you stopped and looked at the page you were invested in during the morning hours, shaking your head at how pathetic you were. Near the portrait you sketched of him instead of the one which fell in the Nile were hieroglyphs. You never knew that day dreaming would include writing in a dead language and you laughed a little, not because of what was on the page but because of how clever your mind was even when it was idle. 

                                                      𓇯𓂠𓍑𓇌 𓏥

“ḥry mḏꜢw.” You whispered to the monuments, tracing the lines of his features and wishing you had a better understanding of the man that was Ardeth. He was a living marvel in every sense of the word. And although you were attracted to him because of his intelligence and past, you couldn’t deny how handsome he was, probably the most beautiful of men you’d ever had the pleasure of looking at. You’ve only ever seen his face and hands, and as much as you hated to admit it, they were the fuel of your evening activities far too many times. And whenever he haunted your dreams, you always woke up heaving and sweating, knowing very well what your dreams were about. 

So busy continuing your sketch of him, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you until it was too late. For the third time in less than twenty four hours, Ardeth crept up on you, standing a few feet away behind you and ignoring your obvious distress before approaching you.

“You have got to stop doing that.” You said humorously but stopped smiling when you realized he was in a foul mood once more.

“Why are you going to the wedding?” He ignored your previous comment, crossing his arms and waiting for you to reply.

“I thought it would be rude to decline the invitation. I have never gone to an Egyptian wedding before and I have a feeling I will not get a second chance again.” Your tone came out more aggressive than you intended but you didn’t care. 

“And the guards? Had I not told you last night to never ask them to leave.” Ardeth took a step forward and part of you felt a twist in your stomach at his proximity, not because he would hurt you. No, he would never do that. But because you were barely over what transpired the night prior. 

“Last time I checked, I was the boss around here, not you. Now, I understand your position and hold great respect for it, but if you think you can walk around ordering me simply because I am a woman then it is best you don’t come around unless Rick or Evy are here. I don’t need to listen to you and you know this very well. If you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for a wedding.” You stood up and took one step forward, not seeing the giant rock in front of you. You prepared to hit the ground but no such thing happened. Instead, you felt a pair of arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding your body against a solid chest. Looking back, you felt Ardeth’s hands tighten around you as soon as you made eye contact with him. His eyes were dilated, the beautiful brown barely visible, jaws clenching when he saw your parted lips. He let go instantly, looking away and leaning down to pick up your notebook before you asked him not to.

As soon as he flipped the notebook to dust the sand off, he saw his portrait and the hieroglyphs written at the bottom, blinking confusingly a few times before handing you back the notebook and excusing himself. You wished the Nile could just flood and take you away from here. Not sure what to make of his reaction, you went back to your tent, aggressively opening the flap and throwing your things on the bed. You noticed something on the chair and picked it up, looking around to see who could have possibly come in here.

Walking outside, you saw the two guards drinking tea under a tree. Approaching them, you asked if they saw anyone go into your tent. When they told you that one of the women came back with clothes for you to wear, they accompanied her to your tent to make sure she placed it inside and took nothing. You thanked the two of them and walked back, studying the familiar gown you saw everyone wear in the village. You were glad they had given you one, not because you had nothing to wear but because you were afraid you dress might offend them. Quickly washing up, you put your hair up and put the long silky black gown on, twirling around in front of the mirror before putting your heels on and leaving. 

It was around five in the afternoon by the time you finished. You walked out and made your way to the guards to let them know you were ready. But when you got there, you saw them talking to Ardeth, bowing their heads to him when they saw you standing there and leaving. For a second, you thought he was going to argue with you and ask you to stay but as he approached you, you saw the almost reserved gaze he held. 

“Both men will stay here tonight and I will escort you to the wedding.” He said calmly and although you preferred this side of him, you couldn’t trust his sudden change of demeanor. 

“Are you serious?” Ardeth looked up at your question and you could pinpoint the moment he felt guilty but you chose to ignore it. “You do not wish to be in my company.” He said, more as a statement than a question and you hated how you denied him immediately.

“No no, that’s not what I said. Nevermind, we should probably leave. I don’t want to miss anything.” You turned around and refused to look back until you had reached the streets of the village. You realized you didn’t know where the wedding would be held but you saw some families walking towards the main church and thought to follow them. As soon as you arrived, you saw the girls from the morning standing outside. You smiled when one of them saw you and ran to welcome you in but as soon as she saw Ardeth, her eyes widened and she said something in Arabic that you did not recognize. 

And then something you’ve never seen before happened, absolutely taking your breath away and causing you to swallow the lump in your throat before approaching the other guests. Ardeth smiled at the young woman and asked her to not tell the elder of the village that he was here. You watched as he interacted with her and waved to her friends, telling her that he would rather enjoy the evening with everyone than have the attention on him. She smiled at him, telling him she will make sure no one will tell any of the administration that he was here before leaving to join her friends. 

You wished you could ask him why he said this but you thought it best to leave him alone. No need to start arguing from now. The night was young and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it. 

~III~

The ceremony was longer than you thought but you didn’t mind it. You enjoyed the hymns they sang, surprising Ardeth when you had picked up one of the books and followed along with the Coptic. You could tell he was staring at you but you ignored him, wanting to commit this to memory. When they finished and the priest announced them as man and wife, all the women began ululating and although it took you by surprise, you were glad to be a part of this. They were all so joyful, following the newly wed outside to the street as they walked to the giant tent and stage in the middle of the town. 

Not thirty minutes later, everyone was dancing and singing along with the couple. You watched as musicians played and danced around the woman and her husband, laughing when he picked her up and twirled her around. You forgot Ardeth was there and continued to watch everyone celebrate the two, but Ardeth was very much aware of your presence. 

Unbeknownst to you, he has spent months in Luxor, watching you and making sure nothing out of the ordinary took place but more importantly, making sure you were safe. He begrudgingly listened to Evy when she told him she knew his secret. He had tried to lie but Evy was clever, telling him that there was no shame in admitting the feelings he had for you. Ardeth told Evy that he could never be with you because you did not think of him the way he thought of you and up until a few hours ago, he thought Evy was lying to him when she told him that he was mistaken. 

When he saw the sketch you had of him, along with the hieroglyphs of his name and his title, he changed his mind. Maybe, just maybe, the feelings were mutual, but even then, he has been nothing but rude and condescending ever since he met you. Perhaps this was more out of curiosity than anything else, because in his mind, no woman as intelligent and beautiful as you would think of him that way. He was not from the ordinary population. This was even excluding where he came from; surely you would want to marry someone who held the same customs and traditions, perhaps even faith, as you. Why would you look at him, a man who was living proof of an ancient people, whose culture was completely different from yours, who might not give you everything you would wish for?

Ardeth was brought back to reality when he saw you standing up and leaving. He was about to follow you when he saw who it was you were approaching, sitting back down in the back along with a few others and watching as you went to the bride and the groom. 

When the young woman saw you, she tapped her husband on the shoulder to get his attention. The man thanked you for coming and told you that his wife aspired to be as kind as you one day. You were taken aback by the response, thanking the two of them and taking a small bag out of your purse. 

You told her you didn’t know what was proper to be given as a gift. She had declined it at first but when you opened it and showed it to her, both of them were surprised and asked you if you were sure. You didn’t know how to convey why you were giving it to her so you looked around to see if anyone who understood English could help you. As soon as you looked towards the back, you saw Ardeth staring right back at you. Swallowing your pride, you motioned for him to come, clasping your hands together to tell him you truly needed his help. He was next to you within moments, asking you what it was you needed.

“Could you please tell them that, as I understand, the blue scarab brings luck and keeps the evil eye away. And I wish for their marriage to always be happy and that they never struggle in anything.” You watched as he took the golden necklace, his eyes holding your gaze before he turned to the bride and told her what you said. She was surprised and said something back, her husband agreeing with her. 

“They are telling you that you are right but they could not possibly accept this.” Ardeth smiled at the couple and translated to you, watching as your expression frown in confusion. He thought it the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.  

“Why not?”

“It is made of gold and lapis lazuli Y/N, this would be the most expensive thing they own and they couldn’t take something as precious from you as this.” You almost gasped when he called you by your name, and you stopped yourself from asking him to say it again, knowing this was not the time or place for such a confrontation. 

“I know. But I want them to have it. Please, try to tell them again.” You placed your hand on his hand to turn it their way and Ardeth couldn’t help the blush that crept on his cheeks. He asked them again, telling them you knew very well what it was and that you really wanted them to have it. The couple looked at each other and back to you before taking the necklace and thanking you for it. The young woman hugged you tightly and kissed your cheeks, thanking you once more before asking her husband to put it on for her. 

You went back to your seat and sat down, waiting until a few moments passed before thanking Ardeth for helping you.

“It was nothing.” Ardeth replied, smiling again and watching as you timidly looked away, busying yourself with something other than the handsome man next to you. In that moment, everything clicked in his mind. The bickering, the shy demeanor, the quietness whenever he was around. You didn’t do these because you disliked him but because you thought of him the way he thought of you. Maybe not completely in the same way because he thought of you in such a manner that wasn’t allowed for him. Not unless you were his own to do such things with. 

You saw some of the workmen dancing around, one of them stopping when he saw you sitting next to Ardeth. He approached you and asked you if you would join him, to which you declined insistently, telling him you would only make a fool out of yourself. When he asked again and saw the way Ardeth clenched his jaws, he stopped, knowing it was unwise to anger a Medjay. You followed his gaze and saw the way Ardeth was staring at him, your heart fluttering for a moment at the thought of him being jealous. But no, that wasn’t possible. 

“Perhaps it is best if you take a week off?” You asked the man and he looked at you strangely, asking you if he understood you correctly. 

“Yes, a week. Don’t worry, you will be paid.” You smiled when he jumped and kissed your cheek before running to the other men and telling them they had a week off. You turned to look at Ardeth but he was nowhere to be found. Looking around, you didn’t find him anywhere, mind reeling back to see if you had said anything to offend him. You waited around for another hour and when he never returned, you excused yourself, bidding the couple a good night before walking back to your tent. But you were stopped by one of the girls, telling you that it was custom in their village for everyone to sit, even for a minute, with the palm reader on weddings. You never believed in these matters but thought why not, following the girl until she brought you to the older woman. 

“Sit down my dear.” The woman took your hand and pulled you down until you sat across from her. 

“You speak English?” You hadn’t meant to sound surprised but you have never met someone her age that could speak English.

“A little. I learn quickly.” She winked at you, opening the palm of your hands and drawing patterns across the lines. She remained quiet for a long time before putting your hands down and looking at you. “You have a long life ahead of you, a bright one too.” She said nothing else and you didn’t know what came over you but you asked her anyway.

“Is there love in this life?”

“There could be.”

“What do you mean?” Before you finished your question, the woman was bringing out a small piece of paper, handing it to you to see your reaction. When you opened it, you read the few lines written in Coptic and turned to look at her once more. You knew what it was. You had seen something similar at your time in Oxford when Professor Maspero brought you his findings and although you didn’t believe in such things, you were not one to tempt your luck. “Thank you, but I think it is best if I leave.” You handed the paper back to her, watching as she smiled and nodded your way.

“To be wise at such a young age. May Allah bless you and keep you safe my child. And to answer your question, there is. And you will not need such charms to make it so, for the one you seek has always had his eyes set on you and no one else.” You didn’t have time to say anything before the woman was standing up and walking away, leaving you more confused than before. Silently leaving the festivities, you made you way back to the excavation grounds, your legs leading you to the shores of the river rather than your tent. There was no way you could sleep after hearing the old woman’s words.

~IV~

You returned to the same spot you always sat in to watch the sunset every day, looking up at the sky and marveling at the many stars and constellations so visible at night. But your mind quickly returned to the old woman’s fortune; did she mean what you thought she meant? It couldn’t have been possible that she knew your feelings, let alone Ardeth’s. But she was so sure of herself.

You dug into your purse and pulled out your notebook, returning to the familiar page once more and passing your fingers over his name.

“You know, I never thought of how my name could mean something else.” You turned around when you heard Ardeth call behind you, not bothering to tell him that he almost made you drop your notebook again. When you said nothing, he continued.

“May I join you?” He asked and you could tell he was fully expecting you to tell him off. But when you nodded and motioned for him to sit next to you, he did so quietly. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him, not bothering to hide the page from him anymore. He silently asked if he could see your notebook and pencil, and you handed them over. He traced his callous fingers over his name in hieroglyphs, reading them out loud and smiling at you.

𓄿𓂋𓌗 𓂞𓇌𓏏𓏛 𓃀𓇋𓄿𓎡𓅄𓅆

“Ꜣr dı͗t bı͗k…”

“The one who makes the driving away from the falcon.” You repeated after him, watching as his smile brightened even more so than before. Then you saw him scribbling something down right next to the last part of his name. 

𓃀𓇋𓄿𓈅𓏤𓈐

“bı͗Ꜣ? As in path?” You asked him, trying to see what his name would mean now.

“The one who makes the driving away from the path,” he whispered, then pointed to the tattoo on his forehead and his cheeks. He watched as the meaning of his name dawned on you.

“The one who makes the driving away from the path of the netherworld through maat.” You responded, smiling when he nodded at you and told you he preferred your interpretation better.

“Why?” “As I see it, it was our role to protect Pharaoh who was the manifestation of Horus on earth. It makes sense that my name parallels the old ‘job description’...to drive away Horus from his demise and being taken into the underworld.” He handed you back your notebook and looked towards the river, watching as the waters softly hit the shores.

“Do all the Medjay have those as well?” You asked, hoping he found no offense in your curiosity. 

“No, just the chieftain. But all of us hold names that correspond to an element of our past lives.” He continued, turning to look at you once again and hoping he could find it in himself to apologize for all the times he disrespected you. You met his gaze before looking away immediately. It was hard to maintain eye contact with him, his eyes making you feel as if he was staring into your soul. Then you felt his hand rest on your own in the sand, looking down and seeing his fingers clasping yours harshly. Your heart was beating against your chest and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. 

When you turned to face him again, he was already staring at your lips, and you couldn’t help it, licking them and mirroring his actions before leaning in towards him. Ardeth didn’t want to move, afraid he would break this trance between the two of you, but when he saw you moving towards him, something completely otherworldly took over. 

He let go of your hand and cupped your cheeks, pulling you towards him and taking your lips aggressively in a hungry kiss. You gasped into the sudden motions, hands fisting in his clothes to hold onto him so you didn’t fall over. Ardeth took this as a sign of submission, pushing you down on the sand and cornering you between his arms. When you moaned against him, he snuck his tongue past your lips, exploring your skin like it was a new oasis. His hands crept into your hair before rolling down your form, holding onto your waist and squeezing you against him to feel every inch of you. 

You didn’t know what to do, torn between pushing him away to ask him about the sudden change of heart and begging him to take you to your tent and have his way with you. When he felt your nails dig into his shoulders, he pulled away, his breath fanning over your cheeks and his eyes memorizing your blissed out facial expression. When you finally opened your eyes, you had already regulated your breathing, pulling your hands away and keeping them to yourself. You hoped he would understand and move away, and when he didn’t, you looked anywhere but him.

Ardeth finally understood what you were silently asking him, moving away and sitting up slowly. Before he could say anything else, you were standing up and running away to your place. He knew calling after you wouldn’t do him any good so he sat by himself for a while. When the night air turned colder, he stood up and was about to go to the other guards when he saw your notebook lying on the ground. 

Picking it up, he dusted the sand off and made his way to your tent. The Medjay saw him approaching and stood up, greeting him before returning to their posts. 

“wḏi.” The command passed his lips angrily, and the two subordinates knew not to question him. They stood up and walked back to the village, leaving Ardeth standing outside your tent. He had spent hours committing to memory the pass of your tongue against his, every smooth touch of your skin against his rough fingers. Without thinking much of it, he walked into your tent to place your notebook on the nightstand, telling himself to not look at you even for a moment. 

But his self control flew with the breeze, his eyes turning back and seeing your naked figure under the thin covers. He could tell you were naked, for your entire back was exposed to his gaze. Gently, he reached over and rolled the cover until you were shielded from his eyes. You looked so beautiful in your sleep, hair forming a halo on the pillow. He knew this was wrong but he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. Slowly, he traced the blush on your cheeks up to your hair, brushing the few strands aside to take a closer look at you.

“A-ardeth…” His name spilling from your lips pushed him back to reality, pulling away and exiting the tent immediately out of fear of himself. He bit his tongue to distract himself from the familiar ache creeping into his groin whenever you were around. It was much worse now however, because he knew what his name sounded like when you moaned it in your sleep. Sitting near the fire, Ardeth removed his knife and picked up a large tree branch, cutting away to distract himself from the sleeping figure not twenty feet away from him. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were very much awake when he entered your tent. For a moment, you were afraid it was not him but when leaned over to cover your body, you could smell his scent, one that you were more familiar with now more than before. You knew he would not try to force himself on you and when he brushed your hair, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your throat in the form of his name. He was gone a moment later, leaving you a mess beneath your covers. You wished you could bring him back to your bed, tell him you ran away because you were afraid of offending him by asking him to do something that may not be acceptable in his culture and not because you were refusing him. 

You slept knowing the old woman was truthful in everything she had told you, and Ardeth laid awake through the night thinking you ran away because you did not want him. 

~V~

You woke up earlier than usual, making yourself exceptionally presentable before exiting the tent. You walked out prepared to face Ardeth and try to make small talk so he doesn’t feel awkward but he was nowhere to be found. You hated when he did that and he seemed to do that a lot around you. You saw the two guards, who you now knew were Medjay, standing around and talking. When they saw you, they bowed their heads before returning to their conversation. 

You didn’t bother to look for him, going about your day as you normally would have and hoping you could be productive instead of thinking about him. You continued recording mounds of interest in your notebook, walking around the area near the mosque and straying away from the major area to the west of the temple. You never came to this part of the grounds, knowing Professor Maspero had already discovered the Chapel of the goddess Mut. There was no way he would’ve missed anything, he was a thorough man. But in your attempt to not topple over the rocks, you skipped a step and fell on your face on top of what used to be a column in the hypostyle hall of the temple. 

“For god’s sake,” you whispered to yourself, looking for your pencil and dusting off your pants. You cursed under your breath when you saw your pants have ripped at the knee. Resting on the column, your eyes passed through a relief that seemed oddly familiar. Ignoring the pain in your legs, you tried to wipe the sand as much as possible from the relief, eyes widening in surprise when you realized what the relief was.

Frantically standing up, you picked up your notebook to mark where you were on the site before discarding it again, kneeling down and dusting off as much as you could without damaging the column. 

There, engraved in large letters, was a Coptic inscription surrounding a cross that was most likely carved over a hieroglyphs. You almost screamed at the sheer luck, marking the area before running to your tent to grab your tools. The guards saw you running around frantically and were about to ask you when they saw you jumping out of your tent with your small kit. They knew not to disturb you when you were working. 

You returned to the column and brushed away from the column before grabbing a shovel and removing the rubble from around the column. You’ve never had to do this much work in your years of excavations but you didn’t care, this was far more rewarding than anything. You looked like a wild woman by the time you cleared the column, sitting down to sketch as many of the reliefs as you could. The Coptic would have to wait, you had no energy for this today. 

When you returned to your tent, the two guards saw the state of you and asked if anything happened to you. You explained what took place and told them that dinner was on you, giving one of them money to fetch food from the village. The men thanked you and told you they would tell you when the food was here. 

You went back in to bathe, knowing you looked like an absolute mess of a woman and that you should not be in their company in such a manner. You were about to unbutton your shirt when someone walked into the tent.

“That was quick. You must’ve been truly hungry to-” The words died in your throat when you turned around and saw Ardeth standing at the entrance. You said nothing, silently kicking yourself for not returning sooner and cleaning up. The last thing you needed was to look filthy in front of him. But none of this compared to the way he was looking at you, like a predator ready to devour his prey. 

His eyes softened, however, when he saw you the state of your knees and the dried blood on the beige pants. Without thinking much of it, he stepped towards you, kneeling down to inspect your skin.

“What happened?”

“I- there was a…” You couldn’t think of a coherent sentence, the feeling of his warm hands wrapped around your legs too distracting. “I was just walking around and quite literally fell upon a new discovery. Did you know there was an old church built in this temple?” Ardeth ignored your rambling, asking you to sit down on the chair while he fetched a clean cloth and some water. You didn’t dare argue with him, silently taking a seat and rolling up your pants for him. He came back with a small amphora filled with cold water and a cloth. His blood thrummed in his ears as soon as he saw your skin. And although he tried to hide himself, you couldn’t help but smile at the blush that crept across his cheeks. 

Gently, he sat down and held your calves, cursing himself for thinking he could do this without making a fool out of himself. 

“You should be more careful Y/N.” There it was again, your name whispered so softly and causing you shake. Ardeth felt goosebumps erupting on your skin, barely holding back the smile of pride at being the cause of such a reaction. You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. He was tender in every touch, slowly dabbing the wet cloth around the inflamed area before treating the other knee in a similar fashion. Like the previous night, something took over him and he couldn’t hold himself back, leaning down and kissing your knees, telling you to watch the wounds when you washed.

When Ardeth looked up, he saw the frenzy swimming in your eyes, and he could only smile at you when your lips parted to attempt and thank him. 

“I will wash this for you.” He raised the blood stained cloth and you tried to stop him but he insisted, telling you it was nothing. When he left your tent, you were sure your heart was close to jumping out of your chest. It was such a minor touch but it boiled your blood, knowing what his lips felt like on your skin yet again. Shaking your head, you went to the corner of the tent to wash up quickly, your heart already leaping at the thought of seeing him again. 

But then something broke your trance. God you could not never have the heart to refuse this man if he asked you to have him, but you also couldn’t bear it if you were to tempt him to do something that went against his culture, even religion. Come to think of it, your knowledge of the Medjay’s religious beliefs was minimal. You had spent a long time with them when you were with Evy and Rick, seeing many of them walking into the mosque in their village during the day to pray. But you also saw your two guards walking out of Mass on Sunday morning numerous times, singing some of their hymns as they walked back to their post. 

Either way, you could not possibly be the cause that Ardeth strayed from his beliefs. You had respected him far too much to tempt him or place him in an unpleasant situation with whatever religious leader he knew. You were very much aware of your position, not just as a stranger to the culture and religions but also as a woman that did not care for the rules revolving around physical relationships. It was one of the things that had many men and women of your social circle angry and whisper about. You only had one or two affairs with men but you still valued yourself, just not in the same way that women of your society did. You did not care for the limiting rules set upon you by the Catholic church or English culture. Thankfully, neither did your parents, always telling you to follow your heart and not care for what anyone thought of you. You were only Catholic by name after all, not by belief.  

But you couldn’t apply this advice now. You cared what Ardeth thought of you and you did not want him to think you were “easy,” neither did you want him to see you as a prude. So you reeled back all thoughts of approaching him, wanting to give the two of you some time to test the waters. You took your time in the bath, slowly washing yourself to make sure the wound did not bleed again. It was an hour later when you emerged from the water, wrapping a towel around yourself before rubbing another around your hair. 

But when you emerged from behind the wooden screen, you saw Ardeth walking in to place the urn and cloth near your bed. When he turned around, his body went tense, hands shaking at the sight of you and eyes blinking slowly. Neither of you moved for a few moments. You waited to see what he would do, chest rising and falling when you saw the way his eyes took you in. You saw his adam’s apple bob up before resting back in its place and you thought, ‘20 seconds of courage.’

Throwing the hair towel away, you walked up to him, standing a few inches away from his rigid torso. 

“You are treading on dangerous grounds Y/N.” Ardeth whispered, his nose flaring when the scent of lavender hit his senses. He was losing every ounce of control coursing through his veins and he wished you would step away before he did something he might regret. Slowly, you reached your hands towards him to cup his cheeks, watching as he shut his eyes to control himself. You saw his jaws clenched tightly, fists cracking from how harshly he was holding himself back. Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his own before pulling back.

“Tell them to leave.” That was all Ardeth needed for confirmation, setting the animal loose and wrapping his arms around you before devouring your lips. His hands fisted in your damp hair, pulling your neck back so he could lay kisses all over your skin. You moaned loudly against him, causing him to clamp his hand on your mouth in fear of the men hearing you. Reluctantly pulling away, Ardeth told you to remain in your spot until he got rid of the two guards. You barely held yourself up when he left you to walk out of the tent. 

You could hear him ordering the two men, and telling them to not return unless they saw Horus. Both men responded their agreement and left, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed because they probably knew why their chieftain ordered them so aggressively to leave. 

Ardeth walked back in and tied the knots of the entrance, walking around all sides of the tent to make sure there were no visible windows or holes or even entrances for anyone to disturb the two of you. When he came back to you, he saw you looking at the ground, arms set at your sides shyly.

“You do not owe me anything Y/N, certainly not your body. I can leave now if you wish me to.” It broke his heart to tell you such things but he never wanted to force you to do anything you did not wish to do. When you looked up at him and blinked, he knew your answer. 

And before he could do anything, you were loosening the knot of the towel, letting it fall to the floor to leave you naked to his eyes. Ardeth was having a hard time, in more ways than one, maintaining his nerves. His heart skipped a beat at seeing you bare in front of him and he knew there was no holding back anymore when you looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

"يا اللة."

My god.

~VI~

As soon as he whispered those two words, you were on him like the water clinging to your skin, not caring about any consequences to your actions. Ardeth embraced you with as much passion, swallowing your cries when his hands got bolder with every pass over your skin. He was a much more aggressive lover than you thought and perhaps it was due to the sexual tension between the two of you in the past few weeks. 

He pulled away and you noticed that he held a direct gaze, not a playful expression in sight. You whined at the loss of his lips and if he were any other man, Ardeth would have smiled and felt a sense of pride for having this much of an effect on you. But he wasn’t another man. He was a starved man and you were exactly what he yearned for in decades. Ardeth couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this strongly to another woman. The last time he was in a relationship, be it physical or emotional, was so long ago that he couldn’t remember who it was. He was a young boy who thought being with a woman would make him a man but he knew soon after it was not this simple.

His lips sucked at the juncture of your neck and noticed you biting your lips to prevent any sound from escaping past them. His fingers squeezed your waist and brought you closer to him harshly, a part of him knowing he should slow down and cherish every inch of you in a perhaps gentler manner. But you were finally in his arms, and he couldn’t bring himself to hold back, not when you were so responsive to his mean and quick touches. He bit down a little harshly on your clavicle and a part of him wished it was to hear your noises and not to mark you as his, but he would dwell on that later. When you finally moaned against him, he eased the hold he had on your hips and pulled away to take you in. “Do not silence yourself Y/N, your sounds belong to me,” he gasped when you visibly shuddered against him, his hands shaking when he felt your nails dig into his arms. “Sweet music to my ears…”

You didn’t know what came over you but no sooner than his hoarse request were your moans loud enough to be heard from the river. He continued his assault on your flushed skin, nipping and licking every inch of you until you surrendered yourself to his hands. You tugged at his shoulder, fisting your fingers in his robes before reaching for his turban. Loosening the scarves away from his head, you watched as his hair fell down past his cheeks and framed his handsome features. Ardeth looked up and saw the way your eyes gazed at him and he felt relief wash over him because he was not the only one who felt this unbearable need.

You leaned forward and Ardeth thought you were going to kiss him but then you pulled his hair and exposed his neck for you, sucking on his adam’s apple and feeling his shaking hands wrap around your entire body. “My heart aches for you Y/N-” Ardeth couldn’t help the growl that flew past his vocal cords, his hands shaking violently when you continued to bite his throat time and again. He wasn’t sure if he was this sensitive because it has been decades since he was touched in such a manner or if it was because you were the one claiming his body. “It yearns for you when the sun rises each morning and- ahhh by the gods woman...and craves you when it sets past the Nile.”

If it were any other woman, Ardeth was sure she would be turned off by his words. They weren’t seductive in any way, but he knew you. He knew your preferences, your likes and dislikes, perhaps already understood what you desired after even though he has not been an hour in your bed. Somehow, however, he sensed your appreciation for the sensual and romantic words he uttered and he continued to test both his resolve and yours with every affection he emoted. And he was right to think so because within minutes, he had your body willing and ready for him. You should have expected him to have such a sinful tongue and you rubbed your thighs when Ardeth moaned shamelessly at your equally-aggressive hands. He was more vocal than any of your previous lovers and you found that you enjoyed it immensely.  

“Ardeth, please just...take these off. I need to feel your skin. I want to touch you, kiss you, look at every inch of you.” Ardeth smiled at your lack of patience, not warning you as he leaned down and carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently before standing over you, shaking his head when he saw the way you grabbed at your breasts to seduce him.

“You are a vixen, the most beautiful my eyes have seen.” Ardeth licked his lips as he looked you over, undoing his robes slowly to fill his mind’s eye with you. You arched your back and moaned when you saw his bare skin through the robes, not caring that you were being forward when you grabbed his robes and pulled him towards you. Ardeth stepped confusingly towards you, hissing when he felt your hands palm him through the black material.

“Y/N, I- I thought your hand would calm this heat I feel for you, but- oh gods, ahhh you- you have done little to quench this fire.” His words went straight to your core and you began to pull at the clothes until they pooled at his feet. Before he could step out of them, you were leaning forward and kissing his hard member, hands kneading and teasing the base until he was panting mess above you.

“Ahhh gods, my love you’re- you are truly talented.” Ardeth tries his hardest to focus on your blissed-out expression but he fails as soon as he feels the palm of your hand close around the tip of his erection. He manages to open his eyes and look down just in time to see you lick the protruding vein ending right below the head and he almost loses himself right then and there. As much as it pains him, he fists his hand in your hair and pulls you off of him before pushing you down on your bed and standing once more. He holds a dangerous and warning gaze and you understand why he silently asks you to not touch him again. You shamelessly look at him as he moves around, watching the way his muscles flex whenever he pulls an article of clothing off aggressively. 

You almost giggle at how quick he is but you hold back, afraid of making him think you are laughing at him. His mind freezes when he stands up and turns to you, unable to look away from where your fingers are. Ardeth raises a curious eyebrow, slowly kneeling down on the bed before approaching you like a lion waiting to devour his prey at the proper time. He is almost angry at the way your eyes challenge him but he chooses to think past the brave aura, gently parting your thighs wider so he could take a better look at the motion of your fingers. He growls, silently chuckling when he sees your legs shake at the sound. You stop your actions altogether and suddenly realize just how dry your mouth is.

“Do not stop on my account Y/N,” Ardeth’s voice is deeper than normal and you whine at his self-control. You had thought he would take you as soon as his guards left but he proved to be a more patient man than you thought. “Ardeth please, please-” You stop breathing when he leans down between your parted thighs, licking your navel and blowing air on the wet skin until you reach for him. Slowly descending down your body, Ardeth holds your gaze and squeezes your buttocks before whispering against your heat, “unless you want me to stop, you will be patient. Remove your hands.” You obey him instantly, letting go of his shoulders before pulling on the bed sheets violently to have some semblance of control.

He hums in approval and returns to the task at hand. A part of him wished he would be gentleman-like with you, but his mind was losing the last bit of control and he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. Shutting his eyes, he leaned down and licked your core once, twice to open you up for him. As soon as you threw your head back in pleasure, he did what his mind dreamed of doing to you for months, years even. Not caring for how filthy it must have looked, let alone sounded, Ardeth poked your wet lips with his nose and took a long whiff of your scent, groaning when the sweet smell swept straight to his groin. Your eyes shot open and glanced down at him immediately, gasping at the obscenity of his actions. Ardeth was afraid he scared you but when he turned his attention back to your heat, he saw proof of your arousal leaking down your thighs.

He smiled and glanced back at you, maintaining eye contact as he licked you dry. You were embarrassed but for a moment, moaning his name over and over again as he pleasured you until you could no longer feel anything but him. 

“Ardeth, ahhh pl-please Ardeth I-” he didn’t let you finish, sucking on your wet core vigorously before pushing down on your lower abdomen to keep you still for him. As soon as you felt his fingers part your sensitive core, your hands fisted in his long locks and pulled on it. You had expected him to cease his actions or ask you to be patient again but the opposite occurred. Ardeth coated his fingers with your pleasure before pushing them against you, exploring your body with his quick digits while he continued to nip and lick at the protruding bundle of nerves. He was slowly driving you mad with his ministrations and you managed to keep whatever control remained because the last thing you needed was for the whole village to know what is transpiring in your tent. 

But then he curled his fingers inside you and increased pressure once, twice, three times until he felt your back arch off the bed. You couldn’t hold back anymore, clenching around his fingers as he brought you to the utmost pleasure and when you begged him to stop, he refused, wanting to coax another petite mort out of you before he pulled away. Ardeth raised himself just in time to see you let go once more, his eyes taking in your features before slowly descending down your body. Your skin was glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath you took and Ardeth almost lost his mind when he saw how perky and flushed your breasts were. When he saw how spent you looked, he pushed his fingers inside you one last time before taking them out and rubbing your thighs to soothe you. You fell back onto the bed, hair disheveled and lips parted from how hard you were breathing. As soon as you managed to look at him, Ardeth took this chance and licked his fingers dry before slowly ascending your body.

He left a trail of kisses on your skin, occasionally nipping an area he found desirable and you smiled when he came face to face with your breasts. You couldn’t hold back the scandalous moan that emanated when he leaned down and took a pert nipple between his teeth, fondling the other until you felt pleasure from the pain of his touches. 

“I- I’m sensitive there Ardeth,” your attempt at warning him did little to nothing, only edging him further in his actions until you were a mess beneath him again. “All the more reason to devour you Y/N. You torment me with your moans. Your whispers of my name...in the name of the ogdoad, forgive me. Do not reproach me for losing myself in your beauty. If you choose to deny me this, then send me away this instance for I cannot...will not hold back any longer.” You were overcome with warmth at the intensity of his words, knowing it must be hard for him to say such words given the nature of his quiet personality, let alone the position he was in. “You fill me with desire from head to foot Y/N. My love shall never be veiled again.” He continued his assault on your breasts and you continued praying his name when you felt his shaft leaking on your belly. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were absolutely certain of one thing: Ardeth was the last man you would allow in your bed because you knew in your heart that no one else was capable of loving you as much as he does, not just physically, but emotionally. 

“I have wanted you for so long, and I- ahhh god your tongue drips of sin, and I pleasured myself at night, imagining how you would touch me, h-how your skin would feel against mine, how rough you would be when you lose control, and-” you took a deep breath, holding back what you wanted to say for fear of making him think you were ill-mannered. But he has not once held back from you this night. As a matter of fact, Ardeth has done the opposite, voicing his desires proudly before stealing orgasm after another from you. You found courage through his actions and whispered to him what you have wanted for so long. “And I dreamed of feeling you so deep inside me, giving you pleasure with avidity until you stilled my torments.” You wrapped your legs around him, not giving him a chance to contemplate on your actions before gyrating your hips into his verge until you felt him rub against your damp core. 

Ardeth shuddered in your arms, his surprise turning into firm touches as he wrapped one arm around your back while the other hand smoothed down your hips. He leaned down and captured your lips in a hungry kiss, his hand pushing your lower back into him to control the motion of your hips. He could feel himself nestled between your thighs, moaning and sucking on your tongue when he sensed how dripping wet you were for him.

“You drive me mad woman,” Ardeth smiled against your mouth before reaching up and pulling on your hair to get more access to your neck. He bit down wherever he could as he felt your desire drench his thighs. You would tell him later that you preferred nothing more than feeling his chest slide against yours, not because of how toned and muscular it was but because of how rough it was to the touch. The friction his chest hair caused was painful yet it ignited a fire within you instantaneously. 

“Please, please just-”

“What do you need Y/N, I will give you anything.” Ardeth was breathing just as harshly as you, if not more. He gazed into your eyes, watching the brewing storm erupt as he rolled his hips against you. You dug your nails into his back, the other holding onto his hair when you couldn’t take it any longer.

“I need you, Ardeth, I need you now. Please, I- I burn for you… need to embrace you,” and for good measure, you stretched your hand between your bodies, grabbing his painfully hard member and rubbing it between your parted lips. “Let me embrace you, let me quench this radiating fire.” You pronounced each word with a rough pass over your core and Ardeth prayed your name until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed your wrist aggressively, slamming it above your head and pushing you down until he felt your submission and before you could whine again, he was spitting in his hand, proud of the response he received from you at the sudden and audacious action. He stroked himself a few times before lining himself up against you, slowly pushing past your slit into your heat until he felt completely engulfed by your silky walls. You ceased to breathe as you felt the intrusion reach deeper, refusing to tell him to stop because even though he was filling you to the hilt, you still craved him. 

Ardeth could barely hold himself above you, his arms threatening to give out beneath him from the immense pleasure. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely clenching violently around him or not, but all he knew was that he has never felt such satisfaction in his life. And he silently cursed you for feeling so tight and inviting because he knew very well no other woman would compare to you. Neither in your intellect and wittiness, nor your beauty and perfection. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought because he never thought he would have the neural capacity to applaud your brilliance when he was this deep inside you. 

You didn’t know why he was laughing and you hoped it wasn’t because you didn’t live up to his expectations. You loosened your hold on him and he noticed, gazing down at you and seeing the inquisitive expression you held. Brushing your hair aside, he refused to look anywhere but your doe-like orbs as he soothed the slight hint of panic away from your skin.

“You have, without a doubt, utterly ruined all women for me Y/N,” Ardeth claimed shamelessly before pulling himself out, and refusing to move until he made sure you were content. When he saw you release your breath and throw your head back, he thrust back in a little vigorously than intended. Before he could apologize for his lack of patience, he heard you faintly whispering for him.

“Ardeth, d-don’t hold back. Take your pleasure, please. I- I want you to ruin me...ahh god, want you to brand my soul.” You pulled him down to you, kissing the corner of his mouth and licking his jaw, enticing him until he lost all self-control and took from you what you dreamed of giving him ever since you laid eyes on him in the desert long ago. At your request, Ardeth lost himself, moving in and out between your thighs without remorse. He hummed against the juncture of your neck, the grip he held on your hair getting tighter with every passing minute. You turned your head to the side, sighing and moaning his name as he roughly drove himself into you. 

You bit his wrist, causing him to lose his balance for a moment before growling and thrusting into you. “If- ahhh gods, if one time will not suffice to quench your fire, I shall do it again to satisfy you. You have bewitched me body and soul Y/N, m nb pt I surrender myself to you.” You felt a sudden flare of lightning strike across your abdomen as soon as he spoke in his native tongue, unintentionally clenching harder around him and causing him to scream into the night air. Even though he spoke little in his language, you couldn’t help but imagine him continue to do so as he brought you to the utmost pleasure. Ardeth noticed your responsiveness to his words and he felt pride deep in his lungs at the thought of knowing he was the cause of such a reaction. 

His pace began to falter, knowing very well he could not last any longer because of how perfect and velvety you felt around him. He set a punishing pace nonetheless, wanting to feel you fall over the edge with him. Taking hold of your chin, he turned you to face him before claiming your mouth again, not caring that he might draw some blood from his aggressive actions. The only sounds heard in the tent were your moans, and his skin slapping against your own. It drove him mad hearing your arousal seep down your thighs with every pass of his verge past your slit. 

“sttyt nṯr ꜥꜣ, come with me, please Y/N, come for me. Now!” For god knows what time that night, Ardeth bit down on your skin, somehow managing to thrust into you harder than before until you couldn’t control your own body. He felt your orgasm before you had the chance to tell him, shuddering against you as he released himself deep inside you. You arched your back against him as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, the intensity of your gratification terrifying your heart. You never realized you were capable of feeling such things and yet here you were, in the arms of the man you never thought you could get close to until a few hours ago.

As you opened your eyes, you saw dilated pupils staring right back at you. It seemed comical that you felt naked under his potent gaze and actually attempted to cover yourself. His grip on you hardened, silently telling you to never attempt such a thing again.

“What have you done to me woman? Not even I had any control over myself.” He whispered before smiling and leaning down to kiss you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, feeling the muscles of his back shift under your touch as he moved to pull himself out of you. Ardeth fell to the side, reaching for the covers before bringing you to him. You laid beneath his neck, pushing your thighs around his legs and chuckling when he warned you with a huff. Ardeth tried his hardest to think of anything but your hard nipples teasing his chest and he realized he could never be able to not think of you as long as you were in his embrace.

~VII~

“This is not the time, and perhaps I should have inquired before...this...but I wanted to apologize if I caused you to do or say anything against your ways.” There was no other manner you could state what you wanted to tell him and you hoped he wouldn’t be offended by your boldness. You sighed when you heard him chuckle for a second, turning your gaze to him to study his facial expression.

“The chieftain of the Medjay is seldom a follower of any religion besides the old one. As far as I know, he can only belong to the old traditions and it is not our custom to hold such things as taboo before marriage. If anything, it is I who should apologize for being incapable of stopping this before it escalated.” He played with your hair, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the seriousness of his voice. 

“Why?”

“You often wear a cross around your neck and I could only assume you are Christian.”

“I was raised one but never believed in any of it. There are too many similarities between the Ancient Religion and Christianity, and do not tell my family any of this, but I genuinely believe Christianity stole its stories and beliefs from your religion. If I were to ever follow a tradition, it would be the Ancient Egyptian one. Horus knows I swear by his name all the time.” You never expected to hear Ardeth laugh this loudly but he did so and you couldn’t look away from the beautiful expression he held. The sound was so pure you almost begged him to do it again. Both of you remained quiet for a few minutes, and he occasionally smiled when you continued to draw patterns on his chest. 

After a while, Ardeth broke the silence and surprised you yet again. “I have spent many nights imagining what it would feel like to have you naked and willing in my arms, and now that I am here, I cannot fathom how divine you are.” You blushed under his gaze and Ardeth knew he would do everything in his power to see that blush creep down your breasts once more.

“bı͗ꜣyt.ı͗, my heart belongs to you.” You continued to stare at him, and he sighed in relief when you graced him with a shy smile. Slowly, you sat up and cupped his cheek, tracing the hieroglyphs on his handsome features before touching each one with your lips. You could feel him smiling against your neck and sighed when his grip tightened around your waist. 

“And mine is yours, wbnnı͗.ı͗.” Ardeth couldn’t help himself, grabbing your neck and pushing you down to kiss you before wrapping his arms around you to keep you as close to him as possible. You laid your head back on his chest and shut your eyes, the feeling of tranquility slowly washing over you as you focused on the beat of his heart. Finally, since decades, Ardeth felt content, knowing he would never allow himself to embrace another woman and would fight an entire army before he lets another man touch you. You remained in each other’s arms for the duration of the night, letting the sounds of the Nile lull you into a deep sleep, knowing that everything was, at long last, as it should be. 

Tagging some people who expressed excitement at the idea of this fic:

@feelmyroarrrr @thorodinsvn @oplunket16 @vvigilantes @the-rookie-97  @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @buckylokihoes @redqueen1221 @kuronekotsiigan @sai-kida134 @wonderwolfstrash @commissioner23 @valeks-princess @libbymouse @taliaalghuldeservesbetter @ruby-white-rabbit​ @jamdropx35​ @dramadreamer14​ @tnupsweetpie​ @jessicahoppes @la--petit--croissant @kandomeresbitch​ @pleasantdreamqueen​

[agenzproject]

Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.       

 

 

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

 

 

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

 

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

 

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

 

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

            She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

[bitchin-beskar]

I Just Want to Kill You (Except That I Don’t)

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: T (Mentions of blood, war, religious themes, and kissing) (also there are approximately (2) uses of the word f*ck)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Ever wonder about what it was like for the other crusaders watching Joe and Nicky kill each other over and over? Well I did, and this is what happened! This story is from Ferrando’s perspective, watching as his fellow soldier figures out that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t hate the enemy (or more specifically, one singular enemy) all that much. 

Warning: I am not religious, but there are mentions of Christianity and the Crusades, along with potentially racist connotations when referring to Yusuf and his people. This story is not historically accurate, and any mistakes that I make are my own. This story does not personally reflect my own views on Christians or Muslims.

Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin @perropascal

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my works!

Please consider liking and reblogging, I love the feedback!

It had been three weeks since the Saracen had killed Nicolo, and by the grace of God, Nicolo had been brought back. Their commander had declared Nicolo’s resurrection a holy sign, that their cause was just in the eyes of God, and that their siege of Jerusalem was the will of God. 

Ferrando had believed their commander, he’d had no reason not to, until the very next day when Nicolo faced off against the same Saracen as before. Ferrando thought that Nicolo had killed the Muslim soldier, just as the soldier had killed Nicolo, but now, here they were, fighting ferociously. 

Ferrando watched, stunned, as Nicolo and the Muslim struck each other at the same time, burying their weapons in the other’s chest, falling on the battlefield once more. Surely Nicolo was only entitled to one miracle, and now that he had struck down his foe for good, God would be gracious, and Nicolo would be allowed admittance into Heaven. 

But, as Ferrando fought his way over to his fallen brethren, he was shocked to see Nicolo’s eyes open once more, a shuddering breath escaping his fellow soldier as Nicolo grasped the Saracen’s scimitar, removing it from his chest in one swift movement. On the ground, across from Nicolo, the Saracen jerked awake as well, removing Nicolo’s sword from where it was buried in between his ribs. 

Both men sat up, and Ferrando watched as their wounds closed, miraculously. The Saracen stood up, and Ferrando raised his sword, ready to defend his shield-brother, but the Saracen merely held out Nicolo’s sword, hilt first. 

Nicolo stood slowly, eyeing the Saracen warily. He slowly held out the scimitar, trading weapons with the enemy. An understanding seemed to pass between the two men, and the Saracen turned away, heading back to his campsite. Nicolo watched him walk away, a funny look on his face. Ferrando tried to get Nicolo’s attention, but Nicolo just waved him off, heading back towards their camps. 

And so the pattern continued day after day. Every morning, Nicolo would charge onto the battlefield, but he always seemed… distracted. That is, until he managed to cross paths with the Saracen. Ferrando didn’t always see them fight, but he heard stories from the other men. Over the course of three weeks, Nicolo and the Saracen had killed each other in practically every single way imaginable. 

At some point, Nicolo learned the Saracen’s name was Yusuf–when on earth did Nicolo find the time to lean the Muslim’s name in the middle of fighting to the death–and there wasn’t a night that went by that Ferrando didn’t hear at least one complaint about their enemy, and more specifically, Yusuf. 

“Why must God torment me so?” Nicolo lamented one night, sitting beside Ferrando in one of the tents. “How can it be God’s will that I strike Yusuf down when he rises the same as I each and every time?” Nicolo sounds so despondent, and Ferrando might feel bad for him if this wasn’t the third or fourth time he’d heard this complaint. 

“Surely this is the work of the Devil, tempting me so that I may stray from my holy path,” Nicolo mutters, and Ferrando looks over at his shield-brother in shock. But Nicolo doesn’t seem to realize that he’d spoken aloud, and Ferrando is left to wonder just what it is that Nicolo meant. 

Ferrando gets his answer two days later, when he once again witnesses Nicolo facing off against Yusuf. The men are evenly matched, and Ferrando notices much of the fighting seems to cease near them, as though the others, Christians and Muslims alike, are waiting to see the outcome of this fight. 

The battle seems to last for ages, the clash of metal ringing out, the dusty ground stirring up around the two men, creating the illusion of two otherworldly beings. Finally, Yusuf managed to gain the upper hand, trapping Nicolo between his chest and his blade. None of the other soldiers move, they all remember Nicolo’s anger when a fellow warrior of Christ had struck Yusuf down. Nicolo had raged at poor Benetto, nearly causing the young soldier to faint from fright, yelling about how only he was allowed to kill Yusuf. Ferrando had raised an eyebrow at that, but Nicolo had been too angry to realize what he’d said. Ferrando watched as Nicolo gathered Yusuf’s body into his arms, and to his surprise, he saw fear on Nicolo’s face.

Perhaps their divine blessings only kept them alive if they were the reasons behind each other’s demise. But surely Nicolo should be pleased? His enemy might finally perish? But as Ferrando watched Nicolo press his hand against Yusuf’s wound, pleading with the Saracen to come back, he wondered if perhaps there was something more than just anger tying the two men together. 

Now, with Yusuf pressing his blade against Nicolo’s throat, the only thing the Nicolo could do was press back against Yusuf’s chest. Ferrando watched with no small amount of interest as Yusuf leaned forward, his lips a hair’s breadth from Nicolo’s ear, whispering something. Ferrando can’t hear his words over the sounds of the battle raging around them, but he watches as a blush spreads across Nicolo’s cheeks, right before the scimitar slices across his throat, spilling his blood on the dirt. Nicolo manages to stab Yusuf in the side as he goes down, taking Yusuf down with him. Somehow, Ferrando doesn’t think that blush is the result of threats, and he can’t help but wonder what Yusuf said to Nicolo to make his cheeks turn as pink as they did.

***

Ever since that day, Ferrando noticed that Yusuf was getting bolder and bolder in his attacks. He seemed to find ways to ensure that he was in contact with Nicolo in some way each time they fought: pining Nicolo to the ground, against a wall, against his chest. Yusuf seemed to prefer grappling with Nicolo instead of fighting with swords and scimitars. Every time, without fail, Nicolo would flush, which delighted Yusuf to no end. He seemed to enjoy making Nicolo feel embarrassed, delighting in every blush, stutter, and gasp that he could wring from him. 

And every single night, Ferrando had to listen to Nicolo complain, moan and whine about Yusuf. He listened, with the patience of a saint, while Nicolo begged for someone to tell him why Yusuf tempted him so. Nicolo was not normally a very talkative man, but in his frustration with Yusuf, he’d spoken more in a month than Ferrando had heard him speak in a year. 

By the thirtieth time the two men have killed each other, most of the soldiers in their regiment and the enemy’s camp know of the two opposing soldiers, touched by God, fighting to the death every day. Ferrando is quite proud of the fact that he was the first to notice when their little dance stopped being so angry and hateful and something… other.

He’d run out of fingers if he had to count on his hands the number of times other soldiers had come up to him to ask if the Saracen was Nicolo’s bedmate. Their tension on the battlefield had transformed, and all the men could see it. Except for Nicolo. He refused to. Ferrando would hear Yusuf speaking in Arabic to Nicolo while they fought, and despite not understanding the words, the tone in which Yusuf spoke made Nicolo flush a brilliant red. Nicolo was quite vicious in his kills whenever Yusuf would taunt him, although Ferrando thought it might be less out of hatred and more embarrassment. Nicolo was a priest, after all, at his core. Not a soldier. 

But even priests can be tempted, and according to Nicolo’s rants when he thought the others were asleep, Yusuf was the most tempting of all. Cosimo and Giacomo had started a betting pool on when Nicolo would finally snap, and either outright rejecting the Saracen or finally fucking him. Ferrando really should shut it down before it came to the attention of their commander, but he couldn’t bring himself to. There was so little entertainment in the camps, let the men have their fun.

***

Two months from the day that Nicolo and Yusuf rose from the dead for the first time, everything changed. Ferrando wasn’t entirely sure why things changed, today of all days, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. It had started out normally, just like every other day on the battlefield. The two armies clashed, men fighting and dying like they had every day for the past two months. Once more, Nicolo and Yusuf met on the battlefield, to fight to the death, like they had every day for the past few months. Yusuf had gained the upper hand for the past week or so, and Ferrando knew that it angered Nicolo to no end. 

Today, Nicolo gained the upper hand–and fought ferociously to maintain it–rather quickly in the fight, and he managed to force Yusuf to his knees, the tip of his sword pressing into the hollow of Yusuf’s throat. Ferrando was still shocked at the fact that Yusuf never once looked afraid, before any of his many, many deaths at the hands of Nicolo. Somehow, the Muslim managed to look smug, even when on his knees, with a deadly blade at his throat. 

Nicolo was red in the face, panting from exertion, his white-knuckled grip on the longsword betraying his nervousness. Both men were dirty, covered in dust and blood from wounds already healed. Ferrando could hear as Nicolo began to yell at the man before him, the one who’d been tormenting Nicolo for two months. He couldn’t hear everything Nicolo was yelling, but he was yelling in Genoese, so Ferrando doubted Yusuf even understood him. Yusuf had shown no indication that he understood Genoese, so Ferrando wasn’t sure how effective Nicolo’s scolding was going to be.

“Why? Why must you torment me? Surely you’ve been sent by the devil, for there can be no explanation for why God would choose you to rise by my side!” Nicolo was frantic, begging for answers, answers no one had, least of all Yusuf. 

Ferrando watched as Yusuf looked up at Nicolo, and for a moment, Ferrando thought he was going to speak. Instead, he winked. 

Nicolo stared at Yusuf, a blush spreading across his cheeks as the Muslim stared up at him, smirking lasciviously. Ferrando thought Nicolo was about to run him through, but to his and the other soldiers’ shock, Nicolo dropped his sword, yanking Yusuf up by his tunic and pulling him into a kiss.

Ferrando felt his jaw drop, but he made no move to close it. He never could have imagined that Nicolo would actually act on his feelings, but the evidence to the contrary was clear in front of him. 

Nicolo pulled back suddenly, his grip on Yusuf’s tunic weakening. He blinked, looking stunned, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Yusuf slowly opened his eyes, a dazed look on his face. Nicolo started to apologize, stuttering and stammering over his words, but Yusuf was having none of it. Gripping his cheeks, Yusuf smashed his lips against Nicolo’s. 

Ferrando and the other soldiers watched as Yusuf kissed Nicolo more passionately than any of them had ever seen, let alone experienced. Many of the men looked away, cheeks red. Even their enemies had stopped fighting, choosing instead to stare at the two men kissing like they would die if their lips stopped touching. 

Nicolo buried his hands in Yusuf’s hair, holding the other man as close as possible, and Yusuf’s arm wound around Nicolo’s waist, clutching tightly at the fabric of Nicolo’s shirt. It was as though they’d forgotten they were supposed to be fighting. 

Ferrando was startled when he felt a tapping on his shoulder. There stood Cosimo, a smug grin on his face. “You should’ve joined the betting pool, I just won twenty bezants!” Ferrando smacked him across the back of the head, but that didn’t deter the grinning soldier.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be here when the armor starts coming off.”

[religioused]

When the Spirit is in Charge

by Gary Simpson

Acts 10:44-48 (CEV)

While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit took control of everyone who was listening. Some Jewish followers of the Lord had come with Peter, and they were surprised that the Holy Spirit had been given to Gentiles.

46 Now they were hearing Gentiles speaking unknown languages and praising God. Peter said, "These Gentiles have been given the Holy Spirit, just as we have! I am certain that no one would dare stop us from baptizing them." Peter ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ, and they asked him to stay on for a few days.

Reflection:

“While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit took control of everyone.” “The Holy Spirit took control.” Keep this line in mind. We will come back to the theme.

There is a lot going on today. This is Mother’s Day. We are combining Mother’s Day and Father’s Day into one day. We are celebrating family. This is also the second week of Asian History Month.

This is a day when we recognize and appreciate the many people who had parenting roles in our lives, including, but not limited to:

• Biological, foster, and adoptive parents.

• Parents of choice.

• Aunts, uncles, grandparents.

• Teachers.

• Neighbors, employers and supervisors.

As I prepare to light this candle, I encourage you to think of people who provided loving parenting and quasi-parenting roles in your life.

The second candle is for all members of our families.

The third candle is for the Asian people in our community and our lives.

We light these candles as a way of thanking God for the people who built into our lives, for families of origin and families of choice, and for Asians who pioneered Canada and who continue to pioneer Canada.

May is Asian History Month. During May, Canadians are encouraged to learn more about the achievements and contributions of Asian Canadians. A few groups we might not think of as Asian, include:

• Some Arabs, such Lebanese, and some Jewish people, and some Russians.

• Persians, Afghanis, Turks.

• Indians and Pakistanis.

There are so many Asian different countries of ancestry and so many different cultures, languages, and religions that we could spend years learning about our neighbors, friends, classmates, and colleagues.

Currently, I think we might be seeing more hate targeting Asian communities than we have seen at any other time since World War 2. The importance of learning about the history and contributions of Asians is very high. Some people are calling the Coronavirus the Chinese virus. Let’s compare hate crimes before and after the Coronavirus pandemic. A comparison of Vancouver hate crimes between January and September of 2019 and 2020 showed an 878% increase in hate crimes targeting Asians.(1) This is added to the ongoing problem of hate targeting many people of broadly Asian descent. About 18% of all Canadian hate crimes in 2017 targeted Jewish people. In 2017 17% of Canadian hate crimes targeted Muslims.(2) A total of 35% of all hate crimes were religious hate crimes. Because some Muslims and some Jewish people have Asian heritage, this means that some of the religious discrimination is targeting Asian people.

In contemporary society, it almost feels like there is no such thing as a freak accident – somebody always has to be at fault, so we seek to blame and to litigate. So some people are referring to the Coronavirus as the China virus. That might be a factor in the massive increase in hate directed toward Asians.

Because of the pandemic, we are afraid – afraid for our jobs and businesses, our freedom and convenience, our way of life. We are also afraid of getting sick. We may mask our fears with angry outbursts and hate. Some of the anger and fear targets Asian people. Fearing members of other groups, xenophobia, is nothing new. Some xenophobia was probably working behind the scenes in ancient Palestine.

Perhaps, Jewish people had reason to feel a little threatened by non-Jewish people. There is a history of conflict ranging over more than 4,400 years. An USA Today article indicates that Jerusalem was captured and recaptured at least 20 times. Conflict over Jerusalem seems to have started no later than 2,500 years before Christ and ended in 1967.(3) Over 575 years before Christ, Solomon's Temple was destroyed. Another Temple was built about 515 years before Christ.(4) Jewish protests against Antiochus IV resulted in a backlash against Jewish people. He marched on Jerusalem, ordered the killing of 80 thousand people and sold about the same number into slavery. He also desecrated the Temple.(5) By about 63 AD, the area of ancient Israel came under Roman rule.(6) Jewish people, once again, found themselves under the control of a foreign imperial power. Roman rule was not always ideal. Pontius Pilate was so brutal that in 37 CE, he was ordered to give an account to the emperor.(7) The roots of xenophobia were probably fed, watered, and nourished by oppression coming from Gentiles.

Earlier in Acts Chapter 10, Peter has a vision that shows Peter that God is a universalist God, an inclusive God for all people. Then we read part of Peter’s sermon and we see the Holy Spirit poured out upon the Gentile Believers. “I am truly convinced . . . that there is no favoritism with God, but that He is ready to receive any man in any nation who reverences Him and who does what is right.”(8) “The Holy Spirit took control.” As Peter is making the point that righteous people of all nations are accepted by God, the Spirit fills the Gentile followers of Jesus. This sermon could be the first sermon preached about Jesus.(9) There are a number of important elements in Peter’s sermon. I think two important parts of the sermon are the universal, worldwide nature of the Gospel, and the anointing of God being poured out upon Gentiles.

The dream helped Peter understand that the Kingdom of God is inclusive and universalist and that God breaks down the barriers of fear, prejudice, discrimination, and hate between groups of people. “The Holy Spirit took control.” The Spirit comes down on Jesus' Gentile followers. This manifestation of God was not expected by Jesus' Jewish followers and it was evidence that God accepted Gentile Believers completely. Seeing an unexpected move of God in the lives of others has the power transform our lives and to help us love people we used to fear or believe are either deficient or defective.

God’s love is impressive. From a Trinitarian perspective, God’s love is shown in the incarnation. “In Jesus, God entered the world and took on” human life. God loved and cared enough accept the “limitations of humanity.”(10) This is a love that let the world slander Christ, brand Christ a heretic, pursue Christ, and judge, crucify, and bury Christ.(11)

Vernon McGee’s Bible commentaries are interesting. He relates interesting illustrations. He tells a story about a small-town storekeeper. A family arrived and wanted to know what kind of a town it was. The wise storekeeper asked, “What kind of town did you come from?” The reply was that they came from an incredible town. People in their former town cared about each other. The storekeeper replied, “This is just the same kind of town.” The family decided that they just might make the town their new home. A little later, another visiting family arrived. They also wanted to know what kind of town it was. The storekeeper asked what their old town was like. The family indicated that the town was mean. The people did not care about anyone. The storekeeper replied, “This is just the same kind of town.” The second family decided to drive on.

A person who heard both stories asked what the storekeeper was doing, because he gave the two families very different responses. The storekeeper responded, “I've learned that any town will be the same kind of town that you left – because you will be the same kind of person.”(12)

When the Spirit of God is in control, we are a different people, a people filled with the Spirit of the risen Christ. Because we are different – Spirit filled, we notice that others are different too. When the Spirit is in control, love is present. The transforming love of the risen Christ is generally seen as a proof that we walk in the footsteps of Christ. John 13:35. “If you love each other, everyone will know that you are my disciples.”(13)

I am going to conclude with one more story. This is about how God changes people by the proof of the Spirit of God moving in people's lives who we do not think God moves in.

Grant is a United Methodist pastor. He has over 304 thousand followers on TikTok. He is a dynamic, loving figure on TikTok. He did not start as a progressive pastor. He was a conservative Evangelical. He admits that he was one of the kind of Christians who would leave comments on social media telling progressive Christians that they were going to hell. Something changed.

He relates that while he was still conservative, he was welcomed into the church and became friends with a person who helped change his life. This person, on his first Sunday at the church, came up to him, hugged him and said, “I am the resident lesbian,” and she welcomed him, telling Grant how glad she was that he was at their church. Grant was at the church to be the youth director. He got to know her, her former husband, and the children. The love they shared as a family caught his attention.  

He notes, “The first step to me changing my faith was seeing fruit in people that I previously thought were wrong.” He saw love in people he disagreed with and his theology started to change. He started to see complexity and nuance in the Bible. What I think was the key in his story of change is what he describes as “seeing the Spirit of God” in people he previously disagreed with and that made him realize that “God is love.”(14)

Notes

(1) Sherina Harris. "Reported Anti-Asian Hate Crimes up 878% in Vancouver: Police." 2020 October 30, 13 April 2021.<https://www.huffingtonpost.ca/entry/anti-asian-hate-crimes-2020_ca_5f9c3403c5b61b5109e705a6>.

(2) "Facts and Figures: Discrimination and Hate Crimes Statistics." Government of Canada. 16 October 2020, 13 April 2021. <https://www.canada.ca/en/canadian-heritage/campaigns/federal-anti-racism-secretariat/facts-figures.html>.

(3) Oren Dorell. “Jerusalem has History of Many Conquests, Surrenders.” USA Today. 05 December 2017, 02 May 2021.

<https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2017/12/05/jerusalem-history-israel-capital/923651001/>.

(4) David Horton, ed. The Portable Seminary. 2nd ed. (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Bethany House, 2018), 239.

(5) Horton (2018), 240.

(6) Horton (2018), 241.

(7) Horton (2018), 242.

(8) William Barclay New Testament, Acts 10:34-35.

(9) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Acts of the Apostles. Kindle ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), e-book.

(10) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Letters of John and Jude. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002), e-book.

(11) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Letters of John and Jude. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002), e-book.

(12) J. Vernon McGee. Thru the Bible with J. Vernon McGee. Kindle ed. (Pasadena, California: Thru the Bible Radio, 1998), e-book.

(13) Contemporary English Version.

(14) “Story Time: Deconstruction.” @pastor_g TikTok. 04 May 2021, 04 May 2021. <https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeqSR5KB/>

[sparringett]

@bae-guevara ( this post / for some reason I couldn’t reblog to it )

The tags mentioned:

#There are some Palestinians who are angry. #Understandably so. #Sometimes it sounds as though they might be anti a united Palestine.. but quite honestly. #Being gentle and submitting to Allah who wants this kind of reconciliation fixes a lot of things. #And you still think the Qur'an is promoting hatred. #You must think again on whose political dogma you've swallowed.

So I am an idiot who posted the above tags with only 5 minutes to go at the end of a lunch break at work earlier today... and didn’t appreciate how it might have come across before submitting. I apologise. 🙇

Basically, replace “you” (I was never referring to you specifically @bae-guevara) with “the people who are anti-Islam” and you will see I was reinforcing the point that I do not think the Qur’an promotes hatred. But unfortunately (I know) there are still a lot of people who do think the Qur’an promotes hatred...

I am actually your friend and ally, not your opponent in this discussion.

I am a Christian married to a Muslim, raising a daughter as a Muslim. I am fiercely pro-Palestine and pro-equality. I know all about the history of the region and the devastating impact of the Nakba. I have seen the photos of an older Palestine and know how it looked (and felt) as a united country before. All of it breaks my heart. Because Jews, Christians and Muslims are all brothers and sisters imo.

But I was raised in a very insulated household before meeting my husband, that “swallowed a lot of the political dogma” I mentioned.

And again, I have seen videos where Palestinians/and possibly Palestinian activists have grown so tired and sick of the evils of the occupation - that they have come out with saying such things as “for sure the Israelis will be destroyed”

The evidence is here 1.53:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uicv59Pc_Hc

I understand why this Palestinian lady must feel that way. She has likely lost a friend to a land mine or even torture at the hands of the IDF. You and I cannot even begin to imagine how much pain those people must be in.

Likewise, the children of the Jewish settlers in Israel are really caught up in this. They didn’t create the problem, they were born into it. Israel/Palestine is their home. They are innocent too. And they must see frustrated angry people saying such things and then are they wrong to feel fear??

There is an emotional divide still here. There’s festering anger still here and it will take a lot of strength and conviction and belief in mankind from both sides to breach it.

And that’s where faith comes in. That’s where unconditional love comes in. We have to put compassion and tolerance first, ahead of our knee-jerk desire to simply hate those who have wronged us (and grievously wronged).

Look at the example of Rwanda in the aftermath of the genocide of 1994. Hutus and Tutsis came back together. Tutsi survivors helped Hutus rebuild their lives. Here’s an example of a man who sponsored the child of his father’s murderer through school. This African nation has shown us the way. We should pay attention.

To return to an earlier point, yes. The YOU I used is aimed at the people (from my type of background) who I know that do hold anti-Islamic views (wrongly, but they have been conditioned by the news and lack of exposure to history and Arab peoples to hold them). And likely, I unfortunately may still too subconsciously hold the faintest traces of bias still, due to my upbringing. But I am consciously choosing to think differently/more openly about the situation here.

[fgrgag]

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[ironmanstan]

I feel like internally I’m. Hideously angry at the fact that I grew up with my dad hating his own culture and shaming my mom’s. Because now I’ve grown up with a few choice cultural experiences and that’s it. It’s not even like “oh I can’t seek out my culture and see what it means to be x”. It’s the fact I’ll never grow up with it and have it be some casual, normal trait I have. Instead it’s this somewhat familiar but still foreign thing I have to accept is a part of myself while ignoring any internalized hate or internalized racism I have from my own fucking dad. And ignoring stupid jealousy I feel when I see people who grew up knowing who they were and having a place to fit into or fit themselves into without feeling othered or shamed for being in the only places they knew to belong.

It’s I think worsened by the fact I’m mixed too. I’m lacking on two fronts while also being rejected on two fronts. Majority of the time I never fit in unless it’s with ‘Islamic culture’, and even that is just a vague mishmash of Arab/south Asian/north African culture, and none of it is enough to truly substitute. I know more Arabic than I do of Urdu, while my dad used to discourage my grandmother from speaking Urdu with me and my siblings.

And there’s yet another layer on top of THAT because I’m not cis, I’m not straight, or allo, or anything I’m expected by everyone to be. 99% of the time even if I am accepted I can only be accepted as a muslim woman who’s gonna grow up, get married, and be a housewife some day. And at the end of the day I don’t belong in the only place I can belong.