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#hijab struggle
screwzara · 9 months
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Made a gift for an Instagram mutual :3
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:)))
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hinderr · 1 year
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i might tweak her final design but here are some concepts. Matriarch of Clan Farvo everyone
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ark1os · 6 months
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#i felt so good after talking to my therapist about the issue w my dad#and i didnt even come to any new conclusions or anything i just told her whats been on my mind what im struggling with and why im so afraid#to confront him and she validated me#which honestly was so new to me? like everytime italked about it it felt like people didnt see the seriousness and why im struggling so muc#with it#like Why are you so afraid of your dad. Why do you have such a hard time. Just do it . Just deal with it. girl i would if it was so easy#but she didnt react like this at all & she didnt ask anything that implied she might be thinking this way too. im v blessed alhamdulillah#she suggested to tell him that i want to wear the hijab through the phone for my own safety (which isnt an option personally but i#really appreciated the thought behind it)#and she also told me that i shouldnt do it if i dont feel ready yet to face him and its like. the first time ever someone told me this lol#she said i shouldnt put more weight on my shoulders because the situation will be a lot worse if i m not prepared#i do feel ready now though ive been dealing with this for months im just so so so scared. im so scared iwant to cry all the time#anyway. ive been sleeping much worse than usually and im waking up completely covered in sweat which is#so disgusting. i was worried that im sick or smth (cancer lol) but realised it started w ramadan!!! which is when i made up my mind when#i will talk to him#may Allah help me may Allah protect me#im about to cry again aaa
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shmowder · 2 months
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just need to vent about the Olympics
#Saw the shittiest take saying “on top of the emotional distress on imane imagine how much in danger she is back home”#are you stupid? no seriously. are you stupid?#You think the entire goddamn country who sent here to the Olympics and the mena singing her praises didn't already know about the yx thing?#“oh i meant like bc of the trans allegations and yk”#literally go fuck yourself#don't make the cost of yout activism the demeaning of arab countries and painting us as savages#some of you are too comfortable showing your racism and ignorance under the guise of supporting queer identities#surprise surprise! us in those “barbaric uncivilised” countries don't go throwing people over roofs bc of trans allegations#Yes women can dress as manly as they want and hijab is never forced. Do you ever think before you speak??#Women like imane are welcomed and common in arab countries#the transphobes we have here are the same fucking ones you have in the west! how come yours is special and civilised terfs???#And stop calling her khalif for fucks sake. learn how arabic names work before butchering them with your ignorant self centered naming systm#Imane is her first name. Khalif is her FATHER'S first name. You're calling her by her father's first name NOT her last name#arabic names go with your first name first. father's first name second. grandpa firstname third then great grandpa THEN last name#call her imane and stop embarrassing yourself bc you're just calling her by a man's name. her father's#“trans allegations” as if our people take the west media seriously rather than a circus show at best. You're repeating old news.#And even if there were. People here are actually a community nurtured on kindness. even the most conservatives mind their business#We're raised on being a community. strangers are your brothers and sisters. Live and let live#But your goddamn media takes stories of religion extremist and paints ALL of us like that. and your tiny brain actually believes it#Hey! you know those gay stories on my blog you've been reading? They were written by a savage arab oh no!#They were written by someone who lives in those dangerous arabic countries! oh no!#You don't know our culture. You don't know our beliefs. You will never grasp our ideals bc they were weaved from kindness and helping others#So don't fucking talk shit about things you know NOTHING about. You don't know the queer arab struggles#the same bad apples you have there we have here. shitty people are shitty regardless of nationality#But actually we do have some etiquette and considerations for others here. We don't go throwing bricks at queen tourists do we?#So why would we do it to our own people you sad excuse of a human
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shehzadi · 5 months
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does anybody know good headphones that aren’t on the boycott list
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holyhakunon · 8 months
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reverted to islam. haven't done a single prayer yet. 😭
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shidouryusm · 9 months
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Everyone praises women when they set boundaries with “my body, my choice” until a hijabi muslim woman enters the equation 😒
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leafiot · 2 years
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i drew the acab duo(are they acab, ik daisy is but basira????)
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bandom-simmer · 1 year
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fuck them haters, picrew was cute, we love you more than they could ever hate you
thank u <3 alot of times i get hate for wearing the hijab/niqab the "wrong" way and im just tired of defending myself :(
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ardentpoop · 5 months
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throwback to this one moment when i was maybe 14 when i thought a child i didnt know was he/him-ing me and i said out loud "i'm.....not a boy?"
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MASK UP FOR GLOBAL LIBERATION
Protect your community by wearing N95s and KN95s when meeting indoors or in crowds! The more of us mask up, the less we get sick, the harder it is for police to surveil us, and the safer we make our shared spaces for our disabled and immuno-compromised comrades and loved ones.
Get started by finding local mask resources on the global COVID Action Map (you can also submit groups to be added). If you have the means, donate masks and tests to your local orgs and encourage accessibility so we can ALL join the fight (bringing in interpreters/translators and medics, ensuring accessibility for wheelchairs/mobility devices, offering child care, filtering the air indoors, setting up virtual options etc).
UPDATE: Download this 8.5"x11" poster for free on itch.io to print and distribute! Includes files suitable for color, black and white, and risograph printing. Any donations will go to printing costs, or buying masks for my local mutual aid groups.
Pandemics have no borders, and all our struggles are united!
[ID: A poster declaring “MASK UP” in red above 3 figures from the waist up, each wearing a different respirator mask. The top figure is an Arab person wearing a fluttering red and white kufiyah over a black hijab and red dress, as well as an Aura 9210+ N95 mask. They steady themselves with one hand on the lower left figure, and raise the other one up triumphantly. The left person is a fat Asian teenager wearing a black hoodie with a genderqueer symbol on the shoulder, and a black Laianzhi HYX1002 KN100 mask. They are holding a box labeled FREE that’s full of COVID-19 Rapid Tests, and two different kinds of plastic-wrapped N95s. The last figure is a middle aged Black person in a power chair, wearing a Flo Mask with a customised rainbow cover, a dark blue winter hat with a Disability pin on it, and a blue shirt featuring 6 countries flags from R to L: Sudan, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Palestine, Haiti, Puerto Rico, and Tigray, Ethiopia. Underneath reads: “RESPIRATOR MASKS PROTECT: your health, your identity, and your community. Find resources near you at COVIDActionMap.org”]
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makingqueerhistory · 5 months
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Hijab Butch Blues: A Memoir
Lamya H
When fourteen-year-old Lamya H realizes she has a crush on her teacher--her female teacher--she covers up her attraction, an attraction she can't yet name, by playing up her roles as overachiever and class clown. Born in South Asia, she moved to the Middle East at a young age and has spent years feeling out of place, like her own desires and dreams don't matter, and it's easier to hide in plain sight. To disappear. But one day in Quran class, she reads a passage about Maryam that changes everything: When Maryam learned that she was pregnant, she insisted no man had touched her. Could Maryam, uninterested in men, be . . . like Lamya? From that moment on, Lamya makes sense of her struggles and triumphs by comparing her experiences with some of the most famous stories in the Quran. She juxtaposes her coming out with Musa liberating his people from the pharoah; asks if Allah, who is neither male nor female, might instead be nonbinary; and, drawing on the faith and hope Nuh needed to construct his ark, begins to build a life of her own--ultimately finding that the answer to her lifelong quest for community and belonging lies in owning her identity as a queer, devout Muslim immigrant. This searingly intimate memoir in essays, spanning Lamya's childhood to her arrival in the United States for college through early-adult life in New York City, tells a universal story of courage, trust, and love, celebrating what it means to be a seeker and an architect of one's own life.
(Affiliate link above)
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turbulentornado · 1 year
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still thinking about how fucked it was for the almond mom looking yoga woman (fr, she literally owns a yoga business) in my anthro class to comment on the high amount of white ppl in anthro by saying "i dont think anyone should have to feel bad or apologize for existing" ...... my professor was right to ignore that and keep the discussion going cuz boyyyyy was i about to ream her ass!
How tf can you say that tho? Literally sitting in a class with not one person of color and you wanna say that. Like girl what are you talking about?? Like if u feel guilty or like u need to apologize.. then youre a racist. You may not know it yet, but youre certainly prejudiced against people who dont look like you. Yet you wanna appropriate Indian spiritual beliefs and always use that as your examples in class. Funny how that works, huh? Its almost like you should appologize for approproating a culture thats not yours as a white person 🤔
Ppl like this woman are the exact reason why im so disenchanted with anthropology as a field. And its the same reason why my #1 anthropologist inspiration and hero is zora neale hurston. She did all the research she wanted despite everyone trying to stop her or tell her she was "under qualified" bc of the color of her skin and her access to money/funding. Even the most "progressive" anthropologists of her time still judged her based on her race. Yet, she was still massively successful all by her own hard work and merit! Anthropologists in academia dont give a fuck about you unless you have money and are white, period. So it was really telling when that statement just flowed so freely from her stupid ass mouth.
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i-cant-sing · 3 months
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Time Traveller au part 8
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Part 9 is here!
Everything around you warped as you jumped off the cliff. You closed your eyes as you heard Baldwin scream your name in agony, the air whipped around you and you hoped that you returned to your house, hopefully with a soft landing.
You fell onto the hard ground on your arm, breaking it. You screamed before biting your lip to hold it as you realised that you had landed... in a forest.
You pulled out your time machine and read the time and place.
1530. Ottoman empire.
Oh hell no-
You tried to change the time to return to your present world, but the dial buttons were broken and you couldnt do anything but hope it'll work again and return you back to your time.
Blinking away the tears, you clutched your arm and struggled to stand up, groaning in pain. The fall had knocked the air out of you, and made your entire body ache as you staggered towards a tree for support.
This has to be- Baldwin must've cursed me for leaving him.
Fixing your gown, you removed your wedding veil to make a hijab and used the length of it to cover your body like a chaddar. Clutching your broken arm, you began walking. Where? You dont know, but you need to get out of the forest first as you didnt pay much attention to "Man V/S Wild" because the first episode you watched started off with Bear Grylls drinking his own piss and you didnt think you'd ever be in a situation where you would need that kind of skills.
"And I wont." You huffed, walking. Besides, the wild isnt the only thing you need to survive. You're a lone woman in a forest where good samaritans arent the only ones to cross it. And you dont think you have a fighting chance against strangers with a broken limb.
The sun was starting set by the time you made it out of the forest and you saw a small cottage. If it wasnt for the old woman tending to her chickens outside, you wouldnt have approached her. But alas, thirst and exhaustion overtook stranger-danger and you walked upto her.
"W... water?" You croaked in Turkish, sweat dripping down your face as you clutched your arm. Yes, you learnt the language as a child when there was no cable and the only place you and your brother could watch TV was at your Turkish neighbours house. Granted, all they ever played was soap dramas, but hey- your family was poor and you had to make do.
The old lady's eyes widened at your state and she rushed inside to get water. By the time she came out with her husband, you had passed out.
-
When you came to, you were lying in bed while the couple fretted over you. It turned out that the old man used to be a physician, so he popped your broken arm back in place and immobilised it expertly so that it allows for optimal healing of the bone. The old lady made you some food and thats when they asked what happened.
"I fell from a tree." You took a bite of the warm meal. "I was hiding there from some slave owners. I lost my parents a few days ago and when they found out that I was alone... they wanted to take me and sell me to the palace." Lying isnt that hard for you when you have so many true events to back you up.
The old couple pitied you and offered you their home. "You could stay here for as long as you'd like. We dont mind. In fact, we'd enjoy the company." You smiled gratefully. As days passed, you began helping them around the house with chores. They were lonely and they enjoyed having you around. You found out that they used to have a daughter but she was one day taken by the Janissaries (members of the elite infantry units that formed the Ottoman Sultan's household troops) to make her part of the harem and they never got to see her again.
It had been a month since you'd been living here. Your machine hadnt worked again and you didnt have the tools at hand to start working on it. You did accompany the old man to the town when he'd go get groceries, but you didnt risk finding a scholar or craftman to help you. No, the moment your eyes landed on the Topkapi palace at the other side of town, you had turned on your heel and already started making your way back to the cottage. As tempting as it was to see just how the sultans were, you were not going to try your luck by being trapped in that castle that had weird politics. Everyone was everyone's enemy- the heirs, the wives, the concubines, the eunuchs- everyone.
You and the old man had just returned from the town and you were trying to calm him down. Apparently, he got into a heated argument with the shopkeeper who was quite influential and lent people money, but he asked for high interest rates on return.
"I'll help you. Maybe I can find some work-" you offered but the old man absolutely refused. He didnt want you to leaving the cottage, especially not alone to go work with these scummy people he did not trust.
You smiled sadly. Perhaps you reminded him of his daughter.
"He's always been like this, but when Ayla was taken, he started loathing the sultan. How can you just break a family like that?" The old lady said as she stirred the pot. You hummed as you set the table, when the old man suddenly burst through the door, looking alarmed.
"Dear? Whats wrong?" The old lady walked up to him. He was looking at you.
"Janissaries- they're here." He said with dread. "The merchant- he must've sent them here! Quick, hide Y/n!" The old lady nodded in agreement as they began pushing you. The old man lifted up a wooden panel from the floor, revealing a small compartment.
"Hide in there and dont make a sound!" They said as they covered the space back with the wooden panel. You held your breath as you peeked through the slits in between the panels.
Just a few moments later, 5 men in red uniforms and swords resting on their sides, brazenly walked in.
Janissaries.
"Where's the girl?" One of them asked as the others looked around.
"What girl?" The old man asked as he pulled his wife closer to him.
"Dont pretend you dont know. We saw you walking in the market with a girl. Where's she?"
"She left. Her parents took her back. What do you want from her?" The old man replied.
The Janissaries kept looking around, going through rooms to find you.
"You havent paid your loan back. We're just here to take her while you make arrangements for your loan."
"I told you she's gone. And I told the merchant I already paid off his loan. With interest."
"Yes, but the interest increased last week. You didnt pay that."
"What does it concern you? You work for the sultan, not the merchant!"
"The merchant is friends with me, a Janissarie. If he's bothered, then I'm bothered. And if I'm bothered, then so is the sultan. Now, hurry up and tell me where she is."
"She's gone-" the old man was cut off by a punch.
You gasped, but quickly covered your mouth as the Janissarie's head snapped in your direction. He couldnt see you, but you could see him.
The old lady was crying now as she tended to her husband on the ground. The Janissaire looked back at her.
"If you dont tell me where she is right now, you will become a widow." He threatened her.
The old lady couldnt say anything as she kept on crying, but she made the mistake of looking at the wooden panel you were hiding under. That was enough of for the armed men to figure out.
They pulled the panel away and there you were, looking up at them with fear. They didnt have to communicate as they pulled you out and threw you over his shoulder, making their way out to their horses.
The old couple begged them to not take you away, but despite your best efforts to break free, you never stood a chance.
"Let me go-" You were silenced with a hard slap. The Janissarie looked at you.
"I will only say this once. I am taking you to the palace. If you make a single sound, I will slit your throat right then and there. If you run, I will behave very badly with you. Nod if you understand."
-
Some time later, you had been dragged into the Topkapi Palace. The guards talked amongst themselves about you, as if you're deaf.
"We should just sell her to the slave traders." One said.
"Or we could give her to the merchant and he can pay us more than the slave traders." Another said.
"We'll see who will pay the higher price for her. After she spends the night with me." Your eyes almost popped out of your socket.
The creep laughed as he yanked you close by the wrist. "Maybe I'll keep you permanently, tied to my bed-"
Allah, now would be a great time for the time machine to work. I dont care if I disappear before their eyes, I cant stay here-
"Well well well, what do we have here?" The Janissaries all straightened up at the new voice. "Bothering another woman of the harem? After you were almost beheaded the last time you stared at one with your pig ugly eyes?"
"Baris Agha, she is not part of the harem-"
"She became property of the sultan the moment you brought her in the palace." The man snapped at them as he stepped in front of you. Judging from his clothes and his effeminate mannerisms, you figured he was a eunuch. "Lets take a look, hm?" He gripped your chin roughly and tilted your face from side to side, a grimace appearing on his face.
"Not pretty enough to be a concubine. Tch. Maid it is."
Bitch.
"Baris Agha, you cant just take her from us-"
"Need I remind you of the woman from the sultan's war winnings you lot lost because you were drunk? I see, I should go and remind sultan of that." At that, the Janissaries scowled but kept quiet.
"Now stop standing there like buffoons. Go to your posts. And you-" Baris Agha gave you a pointed look. "You dont look from around here, but I'm going to assume that since you havent screamed or tried to run off, you understand what I'm saying, hm?" You gave a nod. Baris Agha rolled his eyes before turning on his heel, beckoning you to follow him with his index finger. "Hurry along. We have to train you for the feast tonight. A few servants died of smallpox, so we're a little short staffed."
You were lead to a hamam (a common bath area). Baris Agha was talking to the old lady standing outside. "She is the new maid. Have her prepared for tonight, hm?" He told the lady who ushered you in.
Baris Agha waited outside the hamam as he heard you shriek and yell, but he was unfazed. Everytime a new girl is brought here, she has to go through the same thing. A hot ,steaming bath, an invasive medical check up, a little degradation, nothing out of the norm. It is necessary to do this because if you are to serve the royal family, it wont bode well for you to be carrying any diseases or... any pride.
-
"You're lucky I'm short on servants or else I would've thrown you into the sea because I would never wish anyone to see the gait of a cow." He scolded you during your "maid training".
You bit your lip to stop the curses from slipping. You cant risk pissing off anyone here until you can find a way out, or your machine works. You've read details about the life in Ottoman empire, and sure majority of them were muslims, but they still had egos as large as Mount Everest.
"Baris Agha! Baris Agha!' A servant came running upto him. "A fight broke out in the harem! The concubines- ah! Its a mess!" He flailed his hands around in exasperation.
Baris's eyes widened before scowling. "I'll kill them all today! I swear! These women are more trouble than they're worth for!" He grumbled before looking at you.
"Keep moping, I'll come back. Dont do anything stupid or I will make you dig your grave!" He threatened before leaving with the servant.
As soon as he was out of sight, you considered running. But you dont know your way around this maze of a palace, and you dont wish to run into Baris Agha when you're trying to find your way out of these hallways. You need to be careful and find a way out. So, you slowly made your way towards the other end of the corridor while mopping (as an excuse when Baris returns and asks where'd you go) and peeked around the corners. When you found no one, you slowly walked down one end of the hall where you saw a door at the end while the right side of the hall overlooked the palace grounds and the other side of the hall had no doors but had these wooden windows that were shut so you couldnt see through them. You reached the door and opened it slowly, expecting another hallway, but instead you were in a room. Not exactly a bedroom, since you didnt spot a bed, but perhaps a sitting room? Or maybe a study room, judging from the desk in the corner. In the center of the room, there was a huge pile covered by a purple silk cloth. This couldnt possibly be a storage room, right? You walked upto the pile and pulled the cloth off it, revealing an amalgam of... fine things. There were fancy vases, some antiques, swords and a few paintings.
The paintings were stacked one upon the other, and you took a look at the first one- it was Arabic calligraphy. The background was beige with the calligraphy in beautiful black ink. And you recognised the words written. Its Ayat ul Kursi, from Surah Baqrah in Quran. The words were written so elegantly, however as you read the verse, you spotted an error. It was a minor one, but there was a dot missing from one of the letters and now it would be misspelled and the words wont make sense.
You could just walk away. You should walk away. Find a way out. This is not your mess. And this should not bother you.
"If you see something wrong, then you should do everything in your abilities to correct it. Don't be selfish, Y/n." Your brother's voice rung in your ears.
With a sigh, you walked towards the desk and picked up the the quill pen dipped in ink.
I'm only doing this because this painting may one day be passed onto the future generations. Cant have them making the same mistakes. You walked back to the painting. This is the word of Allah. I cant just ignore the mistake.
You placed the 3 foot canvas on the desk and carefully placed the dot to correct the mistake. You held your breath the entire time to prevent your hand from shaking. When you were done, you breathed and backed away.
"What are you doing?" You froze. This- this is not Baris Agha's voice. No, it- it held too much authority.
"I asked you- what are you doing?!" The voice boomed.
"I- I-"
"Turn around." You slowly did and you looked at the man in dark robes in front of you. He was neither a servant, nor a Janissaries. You looked at the fury in his grey eyes, and then your eyes travelled upto his head.
You dropped into a bow, head low.
"I- I apologise, sultan!" Of fucking course! Why wouldnt a sultan- THE SULTAN SULEIMAN, be the one to catch you in the act.
This is it. This is the day I die. He will have my head cut off-
"I asked you, what are you doing?" He asked again. "Who are you?"
"I- I was... I was fixing an error, your majesty." You gulped, head still down. "I am- I am a new servant, sultan. I- I did not know this was your room- I was- I got lost-"
"What mistake?" He cut you off. "Rise. And show me the mistake."
You slowly rose up, though you kept your eyes casted down. You turned back to the painting as he walked up next to you, and you raised your shaking hand to point the area where the ink was still wet.
"The... the dot was missing from this letter. It was spelling mistake. I... I couldnt just leave it... in good conscience." You explained in a small voice.
There was complete silence for the next few minutes. Is this the part where you should start begging him to spare your life? Or should you keep your mouth shut and hope he gives you a less painful punishment?
"Bring the next painting." He commanded without taking his eyes off the current one. You picked up the next canvas and it also had Arabic calligraphy. With his permission, you placed it on the desk as well.
"Well?" He looked at you and you stared back at his grey eyes in confusion. "Check for errors."
You looked back at the painting, another Quranic verse from Surah Rahman. And you spotted the error right away. Again a small mistake, but still if the diacritical marks are not present, then the pronunciation will be wrong.
"Here. And here as well." You pointed out with your finger. He nodded at you to fix it. This time it was much harder for you to stop your hand from shaking, but fortunately, you did.
"Now recite it." You looked at him in surprise. Recite it? You cant stop your hand from shaking with him looking at you and he expects you to recite it out loud in front of him?!
What kind of test is this? And if I mess up, will he have me killed? Oh God, he's going to kill me.
Closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling, you began to recite Surah Rahman.
Just pretend he's not here, pretend your brother is in front of you and you're reciting Quran to him like you did as kids. Its normal, its just you and Qasim. You and your brother.
You opened your eyes when you were finished. Suleiman was looking at you... shocked.
"That was... my goodness. That was mesmerising." The sultan praised you once he overcame his shock. "And you recited it all from memory. Are you a hafidha?" (someone who has memorised the Quran)
You nodded. The sultan looked even more surprise. He's never heard of women memorising the Quran in his lifetime, and you? You look so young, just in your 20s. Did you really learn the Quran with such perfect recitation?
"How? Who was your teacher?"
"My brother." Which was true. Qasim, your older brother memorised the Quran when he was very young. Your parents sent him to the local mosque to learn and since he was blessed with eidetic memory, things werent hard for him.
You, on the other hand, were not blessed with photographic memory. You werent gifted like Qasim, and since he's always been the shining star, the all rounder, he was your competitor by nature. So while your parents didnt send you to the local mosque to memorise Quran because you're "too young", you made Qasim teach it to you.
He was more than happy to. Qasim, just like his name, was always the "generous one". The one who shares. He's the older brother, the provider. You're the younger sister, the competitive brat. Together, you two made a great duo. Qasim's recitation was far better than yours. His voice brought comfort to the soul.
Once you were able to memorise Quran, you and Qasim would often participate in those Islamic trivia and competitions which would often have some cash prize at the end. And since money was tight at home, you'd both participate and win many such prizes.
"And where's your brother?" "Dead. My family is dead." Well its not like he can go and confirm your story. "I was brought here by the Janisarries. They planned to sell me to slave traders. Then Baris Agha came and made me a servant, saying I belong to the sultan now. He gave me a mop and I was cleaning and then I found my way here..." You explained your situation further, hoping he'd take pity and let you go.
"What's your name?" The sultan asked very calmly.
"... Y/n."
"Y/n." He tested the name. "How would you like a job?"
"I- I'm not a good servant, ask Baris Agha. He'll testify-"
"Not as a maid. As a... teacher."
"Teacher?"
"Mhm. Quran teacher. Teach my daughter Mihirmah how to recite, if not memorise it as well as you, hm?"
"I-" you paused. You need to word this out carefully. "I'm honoured that you considered me for this position, your majesty, but surely, there might be someone else more suitable for this job."
He shook his head. "They're all men. I think if my daughter could have you as a role model, she might be inspired to learn."
"I... I have to go home-"
"Home? To who? You have no family." Of course, your lie backfires.
Seeing your hesitance, he sighs. "Look, you're not a slave here, Y/n. No Muslim in my empire is, so I wont force you to stay here but I think it would be safer for you. A young girl in her prime, living alone in this harsh world- you know just as well of the dangers. Today my Janissaries brought you here, and I will deal with them. But tomorrow, someone else might take advantage of the fact that you have no one to rely on."
You remained silent. He was... right. But-
"If you were to stay here and be Mihirmah's teacher, then I give you my word- no harm shall befall you. You will be under my protection."
Your time machine hasnt shown any signs of working yet, and you dont think you can stay hidden in this empire and avoid people for long, so-
"I accept."
Suleiman smiled. "Good. I think the ink is dry now. Place them back with the pile." You picked up the canvases and brought them back to his collection. As you were placing them down, you noticed the canvas on the bottom, the one you never picked up.
Your face paled.
-
"Sultana, please focus-" you were trying to get the young princess's attention, which you now realise was a feat in itself and exactly why Sultan Suleiman asked you to teach her.
"No." Mihirmah said. You took a deep breath. She has no interest in reading the Quran, how are you supposed to make her learn a few verses?
She was the Sultan's only daughter, so she was spoiled to the core. Just 19 years old, with high cheek bones, blemish free skin, her ash brown hair that shone, she was the epitome of beauty and the apple of her father's eye. You'd just love to yank her by the hair or smack her with a ruler to make her focus but you also would like to get out of here alive.
"You shouldn't use violence when it comes to Islam. It'll only drive the believers away." You heard Qasim's voice in the back of your head. "I never had to discipline you with hand to make you memorise. If I can teach you, then so can you." He had a warm smile on his face.
But I'm not you, Qasim. I dont have the patience of a saint.
"Alright, sultana." You closed the Quran with a sigh and clasped your hands. "What do you want to do?"
Mihirmah grinned, feeling victorious over you giving up so quickly. "I want you to tell my father that I gave my best in trying to learn this but you dont have the time or skill to teach me. Tell him that you think it might be best for me to take break from learning Quran so that I can regain my focus." She said as she crossed her arms over chest.
"No."
Her smile faltered. "No?"
"No." You confirmed, staring at her dead serious. "I do have the time and skill to teach you the Quran. Why should I lie about myself for your incompetency?"
Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"Who do you think you're talking to?" You asked, collecting your things. "I am not your slave or servant to order around. Your father, the sultan, hired me for a job. I'm the teacher, you're the student and at this moment, I have authority over you."
You stood up and looked down at her with no expression. "I was told the young princess was fearless and as strong as her brothers. I now see they were wrong. If you dont wish to learn, then have the guts to tell your father."
As you turned around to leave, you were immediately thrown against the wall, making you bang your head against it. Enough. You're done playing nice.
Sorry Qasim, but some people need violence-
You were turned around and slammed against the wall. You were about to yell at her when you felt something sharp press against your throat.
Mihirmah's eyes were full of fury. "You do not get to talk to me that way-!" "Is that an Omani khanjar?" You looked at her silver dagger.
Mihirmah's rage was replaced by surprise. "You... you know about it?"
You scoffed, insulted. "I'd be a fool not to notice it."
She titled her head at you, an amusing glint in her eyes.
-
"Oh my- you even have the pugio! How did you get it?" You were in complete awe at Mihirmah's large collection of daggers and swords.
Mihirmah beamed. "My brother got it for me on his recent conquest. He got so much stuff in the war prize for dad, but they let me pick first. Mustafa had brought dad some antiques, gems, paintings-" your heart sank at her words.
So that painting... it was from the spoils of war?
The painting that you saw earlier when you were putting back the canvases- it was a portrait. Of you. The same portrait that Baldwin had commissioned for you. The painting that survived over 400 years, except for the lower part of your face that was smudged and faded.
Suleiman looked over your shoulder as you stared at the portrait. "Mustafa found this in a church during the war. The locals claimed that the portrait belonged to some king who lost the love of his life. Hm. Seems like he missed her too much." He explained, tracing his fingers over the smudged area of the painting, and you wondered what Baldwin had done to make the area so faded.
You were glad that you had drawn your chaddar over your head and kept your face down or else you're almost certain the sultan would've recognised the resemblance between you and the portrait. After you'd left him, you immediately decided to wear a niqaab and cover your face to prevent anyone from recognising you as the muse from the painting.
"Y/n." You were snapped out of your thoughts. Mihirmah raised a brow at you. "So... how do you know about the daggers? You dont look like... well, you know."
Should you even be surprised at how condescending she is? Mihirmah may be the sultan's only daughter, but you were also the only daughter AND the youngest child of your family.
You can be just as bitchy.
"What? Just because I'm not a princess, I cant know about daggers?" You scoffed, looking back at her collection on the table.
Mihirmah's lips quirked. "Well, how do you know then?"
My cousin took me to the forensic musuem at his medical college and I was so mesmerised by all the murder weapons there, including the daggers, that I spent an embarrassing amount of time researching about each type of blade which was interesting for me because I am a historian.
"My dad was a blacksmith." He was not. Your father was a pharmacist. "I used to watch him make different types of blades and swords. Travellers would often stop by and let him sharpen their blades, and thats how I know about different kinds of blades."
She nodded, satisfied with your explanation. "You know your blades... but do you know how to fight with them?"
"No, sultana. I am just a lowly peasant who does not have to face the troubles of warding off potential suitors and princes like you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.
When she didnt reply, you looked up at her and saw the evil glint in her eyes.
"What?"
Her smile widened. "I have a proposal that would benefit the both of us."
You stared at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding what she meant.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No-"
-
You were flipped onto the carpeted ground with Mihirma pinning your arms with her knees, pressing the dagger against your neck.
"Anddddd you're dead." She smiled victoriously above you before getting off you and helping you up. You coughed to catch your breath and scowled at her. "I should tell the sultan about how you beat up your teacher."
Mihirmah chuckled. "I am not beating you up. I am teaching you how to fight, and dad would approve that I teach a young women how to defend herself." "But I dont want to learn how to fight." "And I dont want to learn Quran. But if I have to do that, then you can at least do this so that you know just how difficult it is for me to learn the verses."
You adjusted your veil and glared at her. "Cant you find someone else to be your sparring buddy?"
"No. I like you. You dont seem to be too afraid of me and you stand your ground." She admitted before looking at you fussing over your niqaab. "You know you can take that off around me? People dont burst into my room without knocking, so feel free to take that off."
You contemplate for a moment. It is a little hot in here, and you're sweating like a pig after that knock down.
You remove your veil, but keep the scarf over your head and take a seat. You felt her eyes on you, but you didnt look at her as you opened the Quran.
"What are you staring at?"
Mihirmah sat down beside you as you finally looked at the gleam in her eyes. "What?" You asked again.
"Nothing. I just thought you'd be... prettier."
You couldn't help the sound of disbelief that left from your lips.
This cun-
"Well, I'm so sorry sultana that you had to witness the ugliness of my face with your precious eyes that are only worthy of seeing pretty things. My sultana, just say the word and I'd sew pearls into my skin for your pleasure, or I could always just-" you pick up your veil to cover your face again, but Mihirmah's hand caught your wrist and she was giggling.
"You're easy to tick off." She chuckled. "I was only kidding. You look... alright."
You feigned a smile. "Well, how will I ever repay that priceless compliment?" You rolled your eyes as she laughed again.
"Now that we're done with your entertainment, lets start our lesson for today."
-
Its been a week since you arrived in Topkapi palace. You had been given a room in the harem with the concubines because- well they didnt have quarters for religion teachers, so here you were.
The room was small but adequate for you. Nothing fancy but you're grateful for that. Dont want these concubines seeing you as a threat or something.
You groaned as the servant kneaded your shoulders. You were currently getting a massage from a girl you had befriended. Your muscles were sore from the all the times Mihirmah had flipped you over or slammed you against the wall. You were sure you were gonna have numerous bruises by the time she memorised one surah.
Your deep tissue massage was interrupted by Baris Agha bursting through your door. He shot you a glare before pushing the girl away from you.
"If your majesty is done with her rub down, would you care to grace us with your mighty presence?" He mocked. You opened your eyes and sighed.
"Hello to you too, Baris Agha." You sat up. "What do you want?"
"The sultana has demanded your presence."
"I already gave the sultana her lesson today." You mumbled before going to lie back down but Baris Agha grabbed your shoulder painfully to haul you up.
"That was Mihirmah sultana. Your presence is required by her mother, Hurrem sultana!" He gritted out.
Hurrem sultana? "Why?" You asked, fixing your niqaab over your face.
"Why? Why? Who do you think you're to be asking questions? Make haste!" He yelled at you before pushing you out of the room.
You followed behind him as he told you how to courtesy in front of her and not to do this or that, but you were focused on why you'd been called by the sultana? And that too, at dinner time? Wouldnt she be busy with her family?
Finally, you reached her chambers. Baris Agha entered first and you followed closely behind him, falling into a deep courtesy right after him.
"My Sultana, this is Hatun (lady) Y/n, Mihirmah's sultana's teacher." Baris Agha introduced you.
"Rise." You heard her say and you dared to peek at her and your breath was caught.
If Mihirmah was the epitome of beauty, then Hurrem sultana was something entirely out of this world. Red hair that sat in a intricate bun atop with a crown, milky white skin that had no marks, and those radiant green eyes that shone just as bright as the iconic emerald ring on her finger.
If you didnt know the dates, you wouldnt have guessed her to be a day over 40. But she was well in her 50s, and Allah... were you envious of Turkish beauty.
Truly, this was not a place for an insecure person to be around. You probably did stick out like a sore thumb among the bewitching beauties.
Baris Agha elbowed you to make you avert your gaze, and thats when you spotted Mihirmah sitting beside her looking sheepish.
"So, you've been the one who Mihirmah has been spending so much time with?" She looked at you pointedly.
So much time?
You looked at Mihirmah who was avoiding your gaze. You looked back at the sultana. "Well? Tell me how much my daughter has learned?"
How much? She hasnt been able to memorise a single surah.
You cleared your throat and spoke carefully. "Sultana, its a gradual process-"
"Surely, she must've memorised something? After all, thats why she's been refusing to spend time embroidering or looking at her proposals."
"Mom-" Mihirmah tried but was silenced by a look from her mother.
Hurrem looked back at you. "So, Hatun Y/n, do you have something to say? Or has my daughter been lying to me about spending time with you?"
You looked at Mihirmah who was looking at you with pleading eyes and you connected the dots. Mihirmah has lied to her mother about spending her time with you, and now wants you to lie for her as well.
If you do, Mihirmah might be safe but you risk getting caught. If you dont lie, Mihirmah gets in trouble, but so will you. And not just at Mihirmah's hands, because she will hurt you for snitching, but you suspect that she will twist more lies and lead you into more trouble with both her mother and father.
What to do?
"Mihirmah sultana is... a good student. The best one I've had so far." Well, you werent lying. She was your first student so technically she had no competition. "Everyone has a different pace of learning, my sultana. But its not about how fast you learn, its how much you learn. I'd prefer to take years to learn the surahs over not understanding the meaning behind them, the lessons hidden in them."
Yes, this is a safe answer. "Mihirmah sultana has shown great interest in reading the Quran. She listens very attentively to the translations." After bribing her with duels.
"I have no doubt that she will one day be a good Quran student. As long as she never stops reading it, maintains her connection with the Holy Book and Allah. The process of learning never ends."
Hurrem's calculated eyes read you. She gave a single nod. "Very well, Hatun Y/n. If you say so." Ah finally. Disaster avoided, and now Mihirmah owes me for lying-
"Mihirmah, you will recite the surah Hatun Y/n taught you tomorrow at dinner. Your father and I will be very pleased with your progress." Hurrem stated, making both your and Mihirmah's eyes widen because her mother knows her daughter well. She knows Mihirmah is not prepared and challenged her like this so that she can get rid of you as well, allowing the queen to focus on finding a suitable proposal for her daughter.
"Mother-"
"Mihirmah, go and sleep now. I dont think you need to prepare anymore for tomorrow, as you have told me just how great of teacher Hatun Y/n is." Hurrem smiled cunningly. Of course, she'd lay traps for her own daughter if it meant she could prove a point.
You and Mihirmah left the sultana's chambers together before walking to the princess's chambers.
"Thank you, Y/n for saving me!" Mihirmah said as soon as you two entered her room. She turned around to look at you, only to find you out on her balcony.
"Y/n? What are you doing there?" She walked up behind you.
You looked over your shoulder. "Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking if I should jump to my death from here or ask Baris Agha to get me poison. What do you suggest?"
"Y/n!" She pulled you away from the balcony. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me? Whats wrong with you?!" You yanked your arm out of her grip. "Why did you lie to Hurrem sultana that you've been spending day and night studying with me when you damn well know that you have the attention span of a fish?!"
Mihirmah pouted. "Well, I had to come up with an excuse as to why I didnt want to do needle work or look at suitors... how was I supposed to know she'd bring you in for questioning?"
Narrowing your eyes at her, you gritted out. "You should've just told her that you'd rather spend the time beating up servants and throwing knives at pillows for target practise!"
She crossed her arms and huffed. "What, are you mad at me?"
You chuckled humourlessly. "Oh no. No no- how dare I? Why would I be mad at you for being the reason your parents will send me to the gallows? Or would they rather chop off my head?"
She shook her head. "No, I wont.... I wont let them do that." Mihirmah sighed. "I'll tell them the truth tomorrow, come clean."
"Oh great. So then you'll be safe from trouble but I'll still be dead because I LIED to the sultana! Thanks a lot!" You exclaimed.
"Well, then what do you suggest we do?!" Mihirmah was getting short tempered now.
You dragged your hands over your cheeks before heaving a sigh. "The only thing we can do. Make you memorise a surah." You held up a hand before Mihirmah could speak. "I'm not kidding. And... I have a plan. Just... you'll need to stay awake the entire night."
-
"Mihirmah- Mihirmah, wake up." You nudge the sleeping princess, awake. Its been 7 hours into your all nighter and Mihirmah's been asleep for 2 of them. You heard her groan from her position, head resting on the table.
"Mihirmah!" You called her harshly, shaking her shoulder. She smacked your hand away and continued to rest.
Thats it, I'm going to yank your hair-
The door opened making you turn. A young man was standing there, his eyes landing on Mihirmah and then at you.
"Mihirmah?" He called her name gently, but the girl who you'd been expecting to be dead asleep suddenly jumped up at his voice.
"Mehmed?!" Her eyes sparkled before getting up and jumping into his arms, just as you turned your head away and picked up your veil to wear.
Sehzade (prince) Mehmed, second son of Sultan Suleiman, first son of Hurrem. The 24 year old prince hugged his sister and spun her around, the two siblings laughing. Though you already know of his fate- the prince will die young. He will not inherit the throne.
"When did you come back from Manisa?!" Mihirmah asked him.
He pecked her forehead. "Just now. I made my way straight here and I was expecting you to be asleep, but.... what exactly is it that you're doing?" Mehmed asked, and Mihirmah followed his gaze to you.
"Ah. This is Y/n, she's my Quran teacher. I have to memorise a surah and recite it at dinner." She explained.
He raised a brow. "Since when did you have such an interest? Let me guess- father?" She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Forget about that, tell me about your adventures! Come on-" You cleared your throat loudly, making both siblings look at you.
"What?" Mihirmah asked.
"Sultana, we still have to prepare for tonight." You said as gently as you could without popping a vessel in your head.
Mihirmah waved you off. "No need! I've already memorised the surah! I'm all prepared-"
"Sultana." You cut her off. "Memorising is one thing... reciting it properly is another. Your parents will be expecting perfection which-with all due respect, you are nowhere near it."
There was deafening silence in the room as you and Mihirmah stared each other down, neither woman backing away.
"Y/n, I said I'm done for tonight. That means, I. Am. Done." Mihirmah emphasised.
"I'm the teacher and I took responsibility over this matter in front of the Sultan and Sultana. I decide when you. Are. Done." You replied back in the same tone, hands folded in front of you.
I am not letting a spoiled brat ruin my life.
Mehmed looked at the two of you, confusion clouding his mind. Mihirmah doesnt let anyone talk to her this way and get away with it. Usually by now, you wouldve been thrown into the dungeons for torture. He knows his sister and her crazy tendencies, so he doesnt understand why she's putting up with this.
There is something deeper going on here.
"Both of you, stand down." You both broke off the intense stare off and looked at Mehmed. Clasping Mihirmah's hand, he pulled her to the ottomans and sat down beside her, gesturing you to sit down on the floor pillow.
"Now, tell me what is going on?"
After explaining the mess Mihirmah had dragged you two in, Mehmed hummed.
"Mihirmah." He looked at his sister. "It doesnt matter if Y/n told the truth or the lie to mom, she'd be in trouble either way. But there is only one way you wont be in trouble, and that is to pass this test. Prove mom wrong. You can do it- hey, look at me." He cupped Mihirmah's cheeks. "I know you can do it. And to show you my support, I will stay by your side the entire time. Now, lets practice, hm?"
-
You and Mehmed left Mihirmah's room at 8 in the morning, letting her to catch some shut eye.
You mutely yawned under your niqaab, though your back wasnt as silent when you cracked it. You heard Mehmed chuckle behind you, and you quickly composed yourself.
"My sister wore you out, huh?" He had a tired smile on his lips, eyes drooping but still a glint of amusement.
"Of course not, sehzade." You noticed the small cut on the outer end of his left brow. He had ash brown hair, similar to Mihirmah's. If you didnt know better, you'd think the two were twins with how much they resembled. Thick lips, strong nose, high cheek bones.
"You shouldn't lie to a prince, you know?" He rubbed his eyes. "Mihirmah... she is a little-" Annoying? Bitchy? Selfish? "-headstrong, but she's always been this way. Dont take it to heart. She is a good person, you just need to be patient with her."
You stayed quiet as he spoke. What could you really say? Ah no, your sister is actually just a spoiled brat and needs a kicking down?
"Mihirmah likes you, Y/n. It is a lot to ask but... I would appreciate it if you would continue to have her back."
"As you wish, sehzade."
Mehmet gave you one last smile before leaving. "Get some sleep, Y/n."
You turned around and started making your way back towards the harem to your chambers, your mind occupied by the thoughts of the painting Baldwin had made.
I need to destroy it. You decided. If it has survived 400 years, it might survive another 400, and I dont want to take the risk of it appearing in a museum one day.
You're walking down the hall, trying to remember which room it was you had found the paintings in when suddenly you're yanked to a corner.
"hey-!"You're silenced by a hand covering your mouth. A woman was holding you.
"Shh. Its fine. I just want to talk." She pulled her hand away, making you take a huge gulp of air. "What? You cant say hello like a normal person?" You spat at her. She narrowed her eyes at you. "Watch your tone. I'm Gul, the sultana's lady-in-waiting." Or just personal servant. You thought. Wait, sultana?
"Hurrem sultana-" "No, Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of Sultan Suleiman and the one you should always obey and respect. Now come along, she wishes to talk to you." She began pulling you down the corridor.
"Talk to me about what?" She didnt answer you.
Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of the sultan who eventually fells out of his favour when Hurrem arrives. She was able to give birth to one son- sehzade Mustafa, the eldest heir of the sultan, who will also not inherit the throne and will be executed on the orders of his father.
You can only guess how protective Mahidevran would be of both her son and the throne, seeing as she only has one child compared to Hurrem sultana's five, four of which are male heirs. And she has every reason to be threatened too because Hurrem has done what has never been done before.
Hurrem sultana was a non muslim woman captured from Crimea, sold as a slave in Constantinople, became a concubine in the harem and slowly rose to the ranks to be Suleiman's favourite, and later, become his legal wife. She bore majority of his sons, and broke the traditional rule of. "one imperial concubine - one son", was beaten up by Mahidevran which angered Suleiman, earned the title of Haseki Sultana (which means "favourite") and it shocked everyone because never before was a slave elevated to the level of becoming the legal wife of the sultan.
Hurrem sultana was force to be reckoned with. And as history shows, Hurrem would be the victorious one.
Finally reaching the sultana's chambers, you were pushed in by Gul. You immeadiately fell into a courtesy, not wanting to anger the sultana.
"So... who exactly are you?" You looked up, brows knitting in confusion at her question. Mahidevran was sitting on her ottoman, her face expressionless as she stared you down. She was beautiful, her features sharp and slim, collar bones prominent along with her long neck, she looked like a supermodel. But... Hurrem was prettier.
"I- I'm Y/n." You answered her, but she didnt look satisfied. "What is your relation with Hurrem? Are you sleeping with her son, Mehmed?"
"I- I beg your pardon?" You stammered. She stood up and strode to you, making you back up.
"Do not lie to me, girl. My servants saw you entering Hurrem's chambers yesterday, and leaving with Mehmed today."
"Its not what it looks like, sultana." You shook your head. "I am not a concubine and I am not sleeping with anyone! Sultan Suleiman hired me to teach Mihirmah sultana Quran."
"That doesnt explain why you were with Hurrem or Mehmed."
"Hurrem sultana wanted to know how far her daughter has progressed in her lessons and asked Mihirmah to recite a surah at dinner to prove that she's been studying. Sehzade Mehmed and I were with Mihirmah sultana all night helping her prepare for tonight." You explained the situation and Mahidevran stared at you with no expression. For a moment, you thought she didnt believe you but then her lips quirked up.
"Dinner, you say?" You gave a hesitant nod. "Very well, off you go."
As soon as you were out of the room, you leaned against the wall and placed a hand over your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart. Mahidevran may not be as pretty as Hurrem, but she was definitely scarier. You really did think she was going to torture you.
Weakly, you began walking again. You want to go back to your room and sleep off the headache that was forming, but you still have the stupid portrait to destroy.
Where the hell was that stupid room?
After an hour or so of roaming around and avoiding Baris Agha because you dont have it in you to put up with insults, you finally found the room. You softly knocked on the door first, checking if the sultan or someone else was in the room. When no one answered, you slowly opened the door and looked around. No one was there.
You walked inside and spotted the pile still there, and when you removed the silk off it, everything was still there- untouched, including your portrait.
"What are you doing?"
Second time. You've been caught in here for the second time.
Baldwin has to have cast a curse on you. There is no other explanation for such badluck.
You turned around, praying it was Baris Agha or anyone else, just not the sultan.
As soon as you spotted the royal turban, you could hear Baldwin laughing in the back of your head.
You bowed. "Sehazade- I-"
He looked older than Mehmed, so your best guess was that this was Mustafa.
"I asked, what you were doing with my war loot?" So, it is Mustafa. Mihirmah did say he went on a conquest recently.
"I was-" you cleared your throat. "I was merely admiring the calligraphy."
He tilted his head to look behind you. "There's no calligraphy on the portrait."
"I was admiring... the portrait."
"Were you planning on stealing it?"
"What? No." You peered at him through your niqaab. "It would not be the brightest idea to steal a large canvas and walk through the palace that is littered with guards."
He hummed. "You could go out the window."
"And ruin the painting or risk breaking my legs?"
"Huh. So what do you think would be the best way to steal this painting?" What kind of trick question is this?
"Not that I am stealing it, but if I were to- I'd most likely remove it from the canvas and roll it up, tuck it under my dress or hide it somewhere else and then leave with it. Or maybe pass it to another person, to make myself less suspicious."
"For someone who claims they're not stealing it, that does sound like you put a lot of thought in it." Mustafa admitted.
You frowned. "I was just pointing out the obvious. As I said, I am not a thief!"
"Then who are you?"
"I'm Y/n, Mihirmah sultana's Quran teacher-" He chuckled. "Sure, that's believable."
"Its true."
"You expect me to believe Mihirmah, my little sister who would much rather spend her days skinning someone, is learning Quran?" He smiled, making dimples appear on his cheeks.
"Its not by choice. Sultan Suleiman hired me." He stopped smiling.
"The Sultan... hired you?" Mustafa asked. What- why would his father hire you? You're just a young girl, almost the same age as Mihirmah.
"You can ask him if you dont believe me." You were tired of being insulted. What, does he think you're not smart enough to teach someone? Or just plain ole ugly?
"I-"
"Y/n! Ugh! There you are!" Baris Agha voice cut through, and as soon as he spotted Mustafa, he bowed, but you saw the momentary glance of confusion of why you were with him.
"Sehzade." Baris greeted him. Mustafa acknowledged him with a single nod. "Please excuse me, but I must take Hatun Y/n. Mihirmah sultana has demanded her presence."
Mustafa nodded again, letting Baris Agha drag you out by the arm. He looked at you trying to free your arm from his painful grip while Baris chewed your ear out. Mustafa shook his head before turning around to look at the portrait you were "admiring".
It is... something.
-
By dinner time, your head was pounding to the point you thought someone was hammering a nail in your head. Instead of spending the rest of the day catching some sleep, Mihirmah had demanded you help her dress "modestly" for her Quran recitation tonight. She wanted a look that really captured her "angelic and spirutal" personality.
You were sure your eyes were blood shot, from the lack of sleep. You didnt eat anything since yesterday, because you were almost constantly with royalty and God forbid you ate with them. No, they're "superior" and you dont deserve to eat or take care of yourself unless they allow you to.
"How do I look?" Mihirmah asked you. You were standing outside the royal dining room, where she would first go and have dinner with her family before showing what she's learnt so far.
"Like you just returned from Hajj pilgrimage." You rolled your eyes. She shot you a glare. "You look fine, Mihirmah. Just... stay calm and remember what I've taught you. You got this." She nodded before entering the room where her family awaited her.
You leaned against the wall and sighed, about to close your eyes to take a power nap when Baris Agha nudged you.
"Wake up! Sultana and sehzade are here." He whispered harshly, just as you spotted Mahidevran and Mustafa walking down the hall. You and Baris bowed with the guards.
"Sultana. Sehzade." Baris greeted them sweetly. "The dining hall is currently occupied. Sultan Suleiman is having dinner with his family."
"And what are we, Baris?" Mahidevran snapped, making Baris's courteous smile falter. "I am his first wife, Mustafa- his first son. We have more right to be here than Hurrem and her kids."
"Sultana-" Baris tried to persuade her but she beat him to it by walking past and knocking on the door.
"Enter!" Suleiman called from inside. The servants opened the door, allowing Mahidevran and Mustafa inside.
They bowed to Suleiman. "I hope we're not interrupting, sultan. We just heard that our dear Mihirmah would be reading Quran today and I just couldnt stop myself from coming. I just want to witness our little Mihirmah becoming so connected with her religion, perhaps even inspire me." She smiled widely, placing a hand on Mustafa's back. "I brought her elder brother to show our support. May we join you, sultan?"
Suleiman stared at them before nodding. "Of course, Mahidevran. We're all family here."
Mahidevran couldnt help the smirk that formed on her lips as she saw the pissed off look on Hurrem's face and the alarmed one Mihirmah's. While Hurrem did hope to teach a lesson to her daughter to not lie to her, she wouldnt want to do it by embarrassing her in front of Mahidevran.
The doors closed and their dinner began. You leaned against the wall again to rest your eyes but of course, Baris Agha had to mutter incoherently about the whole situation.
"Allah! Allah! What are we going to do? This might as well be the start of another war inside! Hurrem sultana and Mahidevran sultana head-to-head again-" He elbowed you hard, making you yelp. "Did you tell Mahidevran to come here?! I swear, I will yank your tongue out and strangle you with it."
"Baris Agha, at this rate, I'll be the one to strangle you if you touch me one more time." You threatened, shoving him away roughly.
"You little-" The doors opened again, a servant walked out.
"Hatun Y/n. Sultan has summoned you."
You walked inside, courtesying to the royal family.
Suleiman had this gentle look in his eyes. "Ah. This is Y/n, the teacher I hired for Mihirmah." He introduced you to his family, unbeknownst to him they'd already met you. He looked at you. "I wanted you to be here as Mihirmah recited for us."
"I'm honoured, sultan." You said softly, eyes to the ground as Mihirmah stood up and walked to the center of the room.
Suleiman gave her a nod to start.
Mihirmah took a deep breath in, closed her eyes and started reciting.
إِنَّآ أَعْطَيْنَـٰكَ ٱلْكَوْثَرَ "
فَصَلِّ لِرَبِّكَ وَٱنْحَرْ
"إِنَّ شَانِئَكَ هُوَ ٱلْأَبْتَرُ
15 seconds. Thats all it took for Mihirmah to recite the shortest surah in the Quran, with almost perfect qirat. The surah that usually took 10 minutes for children to learn, took Mihirmah all night to memorise with near-perfect pronunciation. Sure, this was not what anyone was expecting, especially not Hurrem when she challenged you and Mihirmah, but the deal was to recite a surah from Quran, by memory. It just so happened to be the shortest one, the easiest one. You won fair and square.
"MashAllah, Mihirmah. That was beautiful. I am so proud of you." Suleiman beamed, his eyes shining with pride. Mihirmah grinned, running to kiss her father's cheeks.
"Yes, Mihirmah. That was... nice." Hurrem feigned a smile, just happy that she wasnt embarrassed in front of Mahidevran.
"Thank you, mom. I guess I just had a really good teacher." Mihirmah shot you a grateful look, making everyone in the room look at you. Your face flushed, and you were grateful for the niqaab to hide your face.
"Oh- um, you're just a keen learner, sultana." You said softly.
Mahidevran lips quirked up, and Hurrem saw the evil glint in her eyes. "Oh Mihirmah, you read so wonderfully. Your voice- ah! It just moved me. Please, Mihirmah- would you be kind enough to recite for me again? I'm sure your father would love to hear you as well."
Mihirmah's brows furrowed slightly. "I- of course, sultana." She closed her eyes and was about to recite the same surah again when Mahidevran's voice stopped her.
"Oh no, Mihirmah. I was hoping to hear something else."
Mihirmah's face fell. "But this is what I've memorised-"
"That's quiet alright, sweetie. You can always read it from the Quran. This isnt a test!" She chuckled. "I'm sure your teacher has taught you the basics! Here, I even brought the Quran with me." She handed Mihirmah the Holy book.
So this is how she planned to embarrass Mihirmah. She knew the young girl was neither interested nor good at learning Quran, so now when Mihirmah would stammer upon her words, then Suleiman and Hurrem will be ashamed that their Muslim daughter, at the age of 19, cannot even recite properly. Hopefully, this might even cause the couple to fight and Mihirmah to fall from the graces of her father's eyes.
Nervously, Mihirmah slowly opened the book, turning to the first page. She cleared her throat, as it'd help.
It didnt.
Mihirmah stammered and stumbled over her words many times, to the point that the first surah that should've taken less than a minute to recite, ended up taking way longer than anyone would like to admit.
As Mihirmah finished reading, you could see the tears welling up in her eyes and redness in her cheeks. She was utterly embarrassed, she felt she had let her parents down.
"Oh Mihirmah~" Mahidevran cooed. "That was.... not good at all, darling."
"I-" Mihirmah tried to muster up an excuse but the sultana did not care.
"I mean- you were just a disaster! Stuttering and making so many mistakes, and that too with the book open!"
"Mahidevran, enough." Hurrem warned.
Mahidevran narrowed her eyes at her. "What? Oh Hurrem, I am not trying to embarrass Mihirmah! In fact, I think she's not at fault. Well, not completely. I suppose she just doesnt have a good teacher."
Everyone was now looking at you.
Is this how everything ends up becoming your fault and you're the one who gets punished?
Fuck. This.
"Excuse me?" You couldnt help the irritation seep in your voice.
Mahidevran raised a brow at you. "Am I wrong? You were supposed to be the one responsible for teaching our princess Quran. And yet, she just made a fool out of herself. You tried to fool us by making Mihirmah learn the shortest surah, but look at her now- barely able to read from the book!"
Your eyes widened. Is she for real?
"I think you're wrong, sultana." Everyone looked at you as you stated boldly. "Yes, Mihirmah sultana did stammer and made mistakes as she read but I think thats much more valuable." You sighed. "Mihirmah sultana had to make twice the effort to read the Quran than one usually would, but she will also get twice the reward from Allah for her efforts. She knew she wont read well, she knows she's just a beginner at this stage, but she didnt let it stop her. And Allah will reward her for that, He knows what was in her heart, her intentions, despite what anyone has to say about her skills."
"And as for "trying to fool" anyone here- "You looked her dead in the eye. "I find that accusation insulting to the very core. You say that I made Mihirmah sultana memorise the shortest surah in the Quran. I did. Surah Kawthar is indeed the shortest surah, but does that mean it is less important? Not worthy to be read, or be in the Holy Book altogether?"
Mahidevran was frowning as you looked at her. "Do you claim to know better than Allah as to what should or shouldn't be in His divine book? Surah Kawthar may be the shortest surah in the Quran but it is one that I find deep comfort in. As the surah translates-
Indeed, We have granted you ˹O Prophet˺ abundant goodness.
So pray and sacrifice to your Lord ˹alone˺
Only the one who hates you is truly cut off ˹from any goodness˺.
And what does this tell us? The background of these verses is that when our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) lost his son, his enemies, the non believers would make fun of him that "Islam will end now because Muhammad had no male heir to continue to grow the religion, to spread the word of Allah." But Allah wouldn't abandon his beloved prophet, even when he was depressed.
This Surah was sent down when the nonbelievers of Makkah taunted the Holy Prophet (PBUH) because he had lost all his male issues, and called him 'abtar' or insulted him for some other reason. The present Surah gives an answer to the taunts of the nonbelievers, and maintains that there is no justification for calling the Holy Prophet (PBUH) an 'abtar' only because he had no male child alive, not only because his lineal offspring will remain till the Day of Judgment, though from his daughters, but he was destined to be the spiritual father of a multitude of sons in all ages to the end of time, sons who were to be far more faithful, obedient and loving than the sons of any father, and they will outnumber the followers of all the Prophets that came before him. The Surah has also highlights the great honor and respect given to him by Allah.
I also like to think that the reason why this Surah was included in the Quran was so that Muslims in general would also be comforted by the word of Allah. That all the Muslims, even if they were not from Prophet Muhammad's direct lineage, we are his ummah and so we will also enjoy the river Kawthar.
Kawthar refers to a river in paradise, which translates "a river that contains abundant goodness" and we will enjoy the greatest honour and respect, as our Prophet Muhammad's ummah."
You took a deep breath. "So, Mahidevran sultana... do you still accuse me of fooling anyone?"
The room was dead silent. You may have indirectly insulted Mahidevran and broken so many rules, but everything you said was true. It was clear. You were smart and educated, Suleiman had no doubt about it when he first met you. And now, he was only more reassured of his decision to make you Mihirmah's teacher.
"Very well said, Y/n." Suleiman broke the silence. Standing up, he walked over to Mihirmah, holding her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead, comforting his daughter.
"I am very proud of you, Mihirmah. I can see the hardwork you did." He hugged her again, pressing another kiss to her forehead as she sniffled softly. "I knew you'd do well, so I brought a gift for you."
Mihirmah watched as a servant brought a wooden box lined with velvet and gems. Opening it, she gasped softly.
It was a gold bracelet with rubies and emeralds, lined in an intricate pattern.
Hurrem smiled as Suleiman put the bracelet around his daughter's wrist, before bringing her hand to his lips and pecking it.
He was a proud father.
"And Y/n-" You stiffened. Suleiman turned towards you, his body towering over you. "You did a fine job at not only teaching Mihirmah, but also helping us understand the significance of Surah Kawther."
A servant brought box, similar to Mihirmah's. Opening it, you saw a bracelet, identical to Mihirmah's.
"This is for you." Suleiman smiled as he placed the bracelet around your trembling hand.
"I- sultan-" you tried to return it but Suleiman silenced you.
"I crafted this with my own hands. It'll be rude of you to refuse." Your eyes widened at his serious tone and you immediately bowed your head.
"T-thank you, sultan." He hummed, returning to his seat while Mihirmah hugged you, giggling.
Dinner continued on as Mihirmah and her siblings began chattering once you left, but something had disturbed both Hurrem and Mahidevran.
-
"What happened inside? Catfight?" Baris Agha, the gossiper asked as you stumbled out of the room. His eyes fell on the bracelet and he snatched your hand. "Allah! Allah! Did you steal this?! I will have you-"
"Sultan Suleiman gifted it to me." Baris dropped your hand.
"S-sultan? Sultan's gift?" He whispered to himself in disbelief, but you were already walking away. You were tired, your headache had now turned into a migraine and your energy levels had dropped. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and at this point, you dont care if you wake up or not.
But sleep is for the fortunate ones. For you, Baris Agha was written.
"Y/n! You- stop! Listen!" He ran up behind you, pulling your shoulder to make you stop. "You- Sultan Suleiman gifted you the bracelet?! Do you know what this means?"
You heaved a sigh, your vision getting blurry. "Baris, just- just shut up. I need to... sleep." You turned around and started walking, not realising just how blurry your vision was, or how you were leaning against the wall for support.
All you saw was blurry figure standing in front of you, before you lost your footing. The figure caught you, and you heard Baris yell your name before losing consciousness.
-
Hurrem was in Suleiman's chambers. She was going to spend the night here, it seemed. Suleiman had summoned her himself tonight.
Suleiman walked inside, and when he spotted his wife, he smiled. Hurrem returned the smile, walking upto him and kissing him.
"Suleiman..." She whispered against his lips. "You summoned me?"
"I did." He lead her to the bed, sitting down. "What do you think of Y/n?"
She tilted her head. Y/n? "I suppose she is a good teacher. Smart. Well educated, at least religion wise."
He let out a hum. "What else?"
"What else, Suleiman? I dont know her." Suleiman chuckled, making her even more confused. Why are you being brought up right now?
"Well, try getting to know her better." "Why?"
Suleiman shrugged. "You'll know in due time."
Hurrem couldnt put her mind at peace the rest of the night. Why was Suleiman curious about you? He couldnt possibly want you- no. No. She saw him with you. He practically looked at you the same way he looked at Mihirmah. Thats why he gave you both the same bracelets-
Oh no.
-
You woke up when you felt something cool on your forehead. Opening your eyes, a wet rag blocked your vision. You pushed the rag away, accidentally touching the hand that was holding the rag there.
A man was sitting on your bedside. He had honey-coloured eyes, short, well kept dark brown hair and tanned skin.
"You can let go of my hand, Hatun Y/n." He grinned.
Your face turned red as you dropped his hand. "I- sorry."
"No worries. You're just disoriented from earlier. Exhaustion, the physicians say." He chuckled, standing up and you noticed Baris standing in the corner now. "You will need to get used to working long hours, especially now." Baris raised his brows at you as he said that, making the man laugh again.
"I will take my leave now. Take care, Hatun Y/n. And let me know if she needs anything, Baris."
"Of course, Ibrahim pasha." He bid farewell to the vizir.
The man said before leaving. Baris immediately rushed to you, grinning from ear to ear.
"What?"
"Who would've guessed- the preacher to be the tempteress?"
"Excuse me?" You glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Baris waved you off. "Well, be flattered! I mean- you're going to be married to a sehzade soon-"
"Woah woah! What are you talking about?"
Baris stared at you. "Oh, you really dont know, do you?" You looked even more puzzled. Baris grabbed your wrist, showing you the bracelet. "This is made by sultan Suleiman. The sultan only gives handmade gifts to family and close relatives. And since I've been here since the sultan married the first sultana, I know you're not his secret love child, which means..." he waited for you to catch on, but giving up when you took too long.
"Y/n, if you're not related to him blood, then you will become related to him by becoming a part of his family. Which will be by you becoming his daughter-in-law!" He exclaimed.
Your face paled. No, no!
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies, darling." Baris tapped your chin. "And I suggest you hide your bracelet for a while. Dont want the concubines to get jealous, hm?"
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So?? Thoughts??? Who do you think will be the yanderes? What do you think will happen next???
PART 9 is here!
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cheriladycl01 · 2 months
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Hiiii could you write about Carlos Sainz that he has a secret relationship with an Arab Muslim girl (she doesn't wear hijab) 24 years old, Y/N and Carlos' little sister her friend because they go to the same university from Madrid and Carlos always bothered her, he was always around Y/N whenever she was talking with a boy Carlos made them run away and that's how they became a couple but secretly it was due to Y/N's religion and Carlos likes to annoy her by teasing her face to face or sharing a message by pinching her side because she is ticklish and she also annoys him.
Thanks youu 💖
Romeo to my Juliet - Carlos x Reader
Plot: After studying at the University of Madrid, and making friends with Blanca Sainz you were constantly around her older brother Carlos who was … obviously obsessed with you!
A/N: Ive done research before writing this on Muslim culture and struggles, however I am not a person of colour, and do not want to cause any offence when writing this! Also the wording of this request did confuse me a little bit so I’m hoping I’ve got everything that you’ve wanted in here!
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Carlos and you were two people you wouldn’t pin together. You were quiet and reserved whilst he was loud and expressive. You were shy, whilst he was confident. But it was those differences that actually made you the perfect pair.
Being in a secret relationship with the Carlos Sainz wasn’t easy, and neither is the story that came with it.
It started when you first applied to university. You got into the University of Madrid and your parents couldn’t be more happy as your father had work in Spain taken from the Middle East, so it wasn’t a difficult family move.
You were a very stylish girl despite being shy and with your outfits it wasn’t hard to catch the eyes on campus. And that was how you met Blanca Sainz.
It was a colder day in Madrid, around November and you were in one of your favourite winter time outfits that’s kept you warm and cozy, still not completely used to the cold winters Europe have compared to the Middle East.
You had this Burberry scarf on, a gift from you father and a gust of win caught you, immediately your hands grabbed for your skirt leaving your scarf to fly off from around your neck.
“Oh my gosh” you gasp as you tried to reach out for it but it just flew off into the distance. You started to run after it, until you saw it hit a girl and practically strangle her.
“I’m so so so sorry! The wind … and it just … and oh my gosh I’m so sorry, it hit you!” You gasp at the girl who looks over you before laughing.
“It’s … a scarf I’m fine” she giggled.
That day you guys got coffee on campus before getting to know each other and you’d been fast friends since.
It wasn’t until the end of your second year in university, your mum and dad had moved back home to the Middle East. And you didn’t know what to do about summer break.
Blanca actually invited you to her family trip to Mallorca and to stay with her in her family home.
You felt bad, so you suggest the first few weeks are spent in your family home in Dubai. And she definitely didn’t want to turn that down.
So of course you guys spent the summer, tanning, in your pool playing games with your mum and dad when they were free and going to get ice cream.
“Your house is insane, what the hell does your mum and dad do!” She asked looking around the 6 bedroom Villa your family owned.
“I don’t actually know, but he’s a business owner of some sort” you giggle, always too bored to listen to your father explain his career.
“There’s an aquarium in your kitchen island …” she points at it, mouth open wide.
“Yeah, excessive i know but my dad adores his fish”
“And your house it on the beach! AND there’s a pool? I don’t even know if I want to see the garage!” She exclaims.
“Mmmmmm yeah my dads also a car collector. He actually left some in Spain in the house there” you offer.
“Your like so humble though! I - WHAT?” She asks in shock and you just laugh her off.
You guys definitely enjoyed your time in Dubai and your parents loved her, she was invited back for the Christmas holidays too.
Then when you got to Spain you met the rest of her family.
“Mum dad, this is my friend Y/N” Blanca offers as you enter the home which was a beautiful Spanish Villa.
“Ah Y/N we’ve heard so much about you from Blanca when she calls” her mother smiles. Ana comes running down the stairs immediately pulling her sister into a hug.
“Ah you must be Y/N? Yes, you are gorgeous! Where are you from!” She grins pulling you into an unexpected hug.
“I’m from Dubai!” You smile and that night guy guys all get to know one another through board games.
It got to just after sunset when you realised that it was time to pray for Maghrib. You calmly excused yourself from the family. Blanca at this point knew when you had to pray and was always very respectful and actually intrigued at the way it all worked. She would be with you on campus in the pray room, or in a random corner of a cafe you guys were studying in and offer you her coat to kneel on if you didn’t have one.
She was the sweetest and most understanding friend you’d ever had.
However, this was the time you met her older brother Carlos. You were just finishing up, in Blancas bedroom when someone came into the room.
“Sorry Blanca, I didn’t mean to be long if I was!” You smile turning round only to see a confused man behind you.
“Erm sorry can I help you?” You ask and he still stands there with his big brown chocolate eyes just staring at you.
“A-sorry you must be, Y/N right? Blanca’s friend that she brought home?” He questions and you nod standing up, reaching out to shake his hand.
He looks down at it smirking before lifting it up and placing a gentle kiss on the edge making you gasp and go wide eyed.
“Well, welcome to the Sainz household. Are you excited about Mallorca?” He smiles and you nod, of course you were, you’d be waiting all summer for it.
And it was an unforgettable summer.
Carlos was ALWAYS around. He was like this little lost puppy and the only time you don’t think he was around was when you showered or slept. He bothered you the whole summer, interrupting you and Blanca when you were trying to tan, or would splash you in the pool when you were lounging on a lilo. He was a menace, but there was a certain type of endearment to it.
He was also insanely protective over you. Whenever you all would go out to bars or restaurants or clubs, you got a lot of male attention, which to Carlos wasn’t surprising.
You were the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen, and he wants you all for himself.
“Hey Bonita, why don’t you come downtown with me, and I’ll show you a good time?” A random guy from the island had said to you in a club.
“I’m fine thank you, I’m here with friends” you smile pointing behind you to the table where Carlos Blanca and Ana are sat.
“I’m sure they won’t mind, come on. ¡Vive un poco!” He exclaims looking over you.
“She said she was fine, and I would mind” Carlos said in a gruff voice coming to stand behind you and hand on your shoulder.
The guy swiftly left, seeing who it was. You’d gotten used to the fact that Carlos would be noticed in public, you tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Whenever a fan came over you’d practically glue yourself to Blanca’s side.
But all the guys that came talking to you Carlos had them running away for one reason or another. Whether it was just him, being Carlos Sainz, or the look he gave them or what he whispered to them when you couldn’t here. They always left.
That was how Carlos and you ended up together. You were a modern day Romeo and Juliet. You knew your parents wouldn’t approve of the Spanish race car driver, just based on all the tabloid articles about him.
“We should leave” he said in a huff, he was always like this and a lot of the times that you left was because of Carlos’ changed mood.
“But we didn’t get here long ago!” You offer and he huffs again, getting more frustrated.
“Just, let’s just go home!” He says again, not touching you but giving you a look as if to say, I will drag you out of here.
“We need to get Blanca and Ana, we can’t leave them!” You say as you start to look around the club for the two girls, hoping they would protest to Carlos wanting to get you to leave.
“They’ll be fine, let’s just go. They are pretty preoccupied anyway” he nods towards them with their boyfriends and how they are dancing.
Next thing you know Carlos was dragging you home, poking at your side saying how you broke your good girl demeanour just to leave the club with him.
“I was in a club, I can’t be that good of a girl” you tease him back and he looks over at you with a sparkle in his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t even there and it was just from the street lights, but he looked so happy and content in this moment that you couldn’t help but stare.
After this summer, you and Carlos hide your relationship from everyone, you hated hiding it from Blanca the most as he would often come find you in Madrid after race weekends to keep you company.
And don’t even start about him at family venues. Despite Carlos wanting to keep the relationship as secret as you did because of the media, and your parents, he wasn’t very good at keeping his gestures subtle.
“Carlos, I haven’t seen you for a while. And whose this, a girlfriend?” One of his aunts comes over seeing you together chatting at a family reunion his mother had hosted after his race win.
He pinched your side teasingly as if to say that you guys must look good together. And as you look up at his face you can see that.
“No this is Y/N Blanca’s friend from university” he offers keeping up with the secret. And your look down smiling to yourself. It was fun in a way keeping up a little white lie that you were with Carlos.
“Shame, she’s a dime and you two would look great together” she winks before fluttering off elsewhere in the house.
“See someone else who thinks we look great together” Carlos says leaning down to meet your eye level making you blush.
“Carlos leave Y/N alone, you tease the poor girl enough you’ll give her a heart attack one day. Come on sweetie” his mother guides you away, you turn round to catch Carlos’ eye before poking your tongue out in a childish manner.
He shakes his head with a slight chuckles as he watches his mum pull you away to a different crowd of people and introduces you.
When you and Carlos would admit your relationship was unknown, but you knew you’d never been happier than you were with Carlos Sainz Jr.
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la7ma-mafrooma · 6 months
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An example of those who pretend to be allies, but are just a bunch of Islamophobes.
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Palestinians are being deprived of their rights to go to Al-Aqsa mosque during the holy month of Ramadan. That's oppression.
Palestinian women held hostage are being stripped of their hijab by the IOF.
Palestinians who were able to enter Al-Aqsa mosque during Ramadan in previous years got beaten up WHILE praying and some were even killed.
Israeli settlers frequently storm Al-Aqsa mosque under the protection of the IOF and even partake in settler violence against Palestinians.
Mosques have been bombed in Gaza and the people have to pray amongst the rubble.
Palestinian men in Israeli prisons have been deprived of their watches so they wouldn't know the time of their prayers and thus cannot pray.
And that's just PART of their struggles as Muslim Palestinians. If you want to support Palestine, you support them regardless of their religion. They're human beings.
سبت اسمك في الصورة لتكوني عبرة لمن يعتبر.
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