These are photographs of the Agojie - often called Dahomey Amazons by Europeans.
The Agojie were regiments of soldiers who served in the army of Dahomey (now Benin) in West Africa in the 18th and 19th centuries. Numbering around 8000 at their height in the 1840, they were renowned for their fearlessness in battle, and considered the backbone of the Dahomean army.
They were all assigned female at birth, but expressed their gender in a variety of ways. Some renounced womanhood, and identified themselves as men. At other times, the group embraced womanhood in their war songs, comparing themselves to lionesses, and linking womanhood to their superiority over male regiments.
Check out our podcast on the Agojie to learn more!
Today I was talking to a friend about the MCU, and she said that Wakanda Forever was not up to the level of Black Panther. Hardly a minority opinion. But then she said that the Dora Milaje film was also much better than WF.
At first I couldn't think of what she meant, because there hasn't been a standalone DM film. Until I realized she meant The Woman King, the historical drama based on the Agojie and the Kingdom of Dahomey.
I think this is the second time I've seen this exact same mistake. Where somebody thinks The Woman King is an MCU prequel about the history of the DM and Wakanda.
The Dora Milaje are indeed partially-inspired by the real-life Agojie, but The Woman King film never tries to imply any connection. The fact that this same mistake has happened twice...
CW: fluff, the two of you in love. Izogie being... herself. A little bit of teasing nothing really sexual though. You're an agojie.
Summary: The agojies just returned to the villiage from a mission. It is hard, two women died in this rescue mission. You and Izogie try to reconfort each other.
A/N: It's a short one-shot. Obviously the reader is black.
It had been two hours since the agojies were back in the village. It had been a quiet walk back home. While everyone was recupering and tending to wounds, you had retreated to your quarters. Everyone had treated the latest mission as a win, and although it was, you still felt grief for your past sisters.
Fortunately for you, your dearest friend was beside you. Izogie had always been a great advice giver, an even greater shoulder to cry on. If you could still marry someone, it definitely would have been her. You remember the two of you growing up dreaming of serving your people with the agojies. And now you two had succeeded at doing it.
"What are you doing all pensive" Her hand had taken you out of your dreamerie. She always had the knack to surprise you, whenever she felt like it. At this point, the two of you were sat down.
"Nothing, just thinking about everything."
"Wow, you're thinking? You should stop hanging with Amenza so much, she's giving you ideas." Her smirk was already forming by the time she finished talking. Amenza was one of the wisest people you'd ever met. Her comment only drew a giggle out of you.
"No just, things changed so much from when we were little girls." Her facial expretion was a mixture of surprised and sadness. However, as soon as it appeared it disappeared.
"Yeah, I remember when you used to cry when it got dark." she had started to laugh, you tried your hardest not to join her. Still, it was so contagious that you ended up laughing too.
It felt good to reminisce about good memories, rather than sad ones. When the laughs died down a bit, the two of you were so close that if you tried to stand up, you'd bump into each other.
As you two were catching your breaths, you were staring directly at her and so was she. Slowly, she laid her hand on your cheek. Gently stroking it with her thumb.
"Is there something on my face?" You whispered at her. You were trying so hard to not lower your gaze on her lips. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, with a beautiful personality. You'd never really thought into it, but, yeah you found her terribly attractive.
She didn't vocally respond to your question, the only thing she did was grab your neck with her free hand and link your lips together. You didn't even think she would do it, but wasn't against it either. The kiss felt the same as the enticipation you'd feel when drinking water after spending the last week in a desert. You kissed her back and eventually, smiled doing it.
"Now, I think I got it." She said with the biggest smiled you'd seen this day.
summary: exes who can’t let each other go, based on ‘ex-factor’ by lauryn hill. izogie gets hurt and calls the one person she needs to feel better, but also the same person she should stay away from.
warnings: mentions of injuries (blood, cuts, changing bandages), past relationship, suggestive language.
a/n: i have been neglecting my girl, so i present a treat for u. this is my first angst so lower them expectations pls… those who were asking for izogie content here u go, show her love <3
✧
it could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard. loving you is like a battle, and we both end up with scars. tell me who i have to be to get some reciprocity. cause no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will.
she shouldn’t have called you, she knew that. she should’ve left you alone, let you move on. though, a part of her hoped you’d answer. that you’d sigh, complain about the hour or nature of the call before inevitably caving, but you didn’t. you didn’t do your usual game of answering on the last ring just to keep her on her toes. you didn’t let it go to voicemail before sending a text saying you were too busy or too tired, but not enough to ignore her. you didn’t do anything, and that surprised izogie, maybe even hurt her, but it didn’t stop her.
it didn’t stop her from ignoring the alarms in her head telling her to turn around. it didn’t stop her from pushing the lift button and knocking weakly on door. and it certainly didn’t stop the small smile that crept up her lips as the barrier opened to reveal you.
your tired expression dropped slightly, being replaced by one caused annoyance rather than interrupted slumber. your cardigan fell off one shoulder as you rubbed your eyes while sighing. “what are you doing here, izogie?”
she looked down at you, forearm pressed against the doorframe while the other clutched her abdomen. “when you say my name like that, it almost makes me think you don’t wanna see me,” she laughs gently, immediately groaning lowly after.
this draws you to look down to her midriff, seeing her applying pressure to the area that was an increasingly growing deep red stain on her gray Police Academy shirt. your eyes widen quickly as you open the door entirely to guide her her in, locking it behind you as she leans against the island. “what happened?” you ask hurriedly, walking briskly to grab your emergency kit.
she smacks her teeth, shaking her head. “you worry too much.”
“yeah? you show up battered and broken in the middle of the night too much, so i think i’m well within reason.”
you crouch down, avoiding her eyes watching you as you took out supplies. she stays silent for a moment, unsure if she should attempt to make conversation. it’s been longer than usual since the two of you have spoken, much less been in such close proximity.
“it’s just a graze.” she says finally.
you look up, soaking a wash cloth with water as she continues. “the bullet. it only grazed my skin, didn’t puncture enough to go through.”
“but enough to cause so much bleeding,” you say, reaching to clean the blood from her stomach as she instinctively held up a side of her shirt.
this wasn’t her first time coming here, maybe not her last. the two of you did the whole will they, won’t they dance for nearly two years during your friendship. the tension between you was palpable, and it didn’t help that you got along so well too.
she got all parts of you—the late nights, early mornings, and countless hangouts in between. stolen kisses on hands and foreheads, hugs that lasted a bit too long to be platonic, and roaming hands when one thinks no one else is looking. she would tease and flirt shamelessly, often leaving you with a racing heart and an ache between your thighs.
until one day she didn’t. one day she went all the way. it was heavenly, her giving you so many parts of her. only it was never all of her, and you were okay with that—with waiting. relationships take time, which you understood, but after a year of being together, she still wasn’t ready. she wasn’t ready to introduce you to family, tell you more about her life before moving from her home country, talk about moving in together. she also wasn’t ready to tell you why she was so hesitant, so stubborn with you, hellbent on locking you out.
so, you had to let her go.
“why didn’t you go to the hospital?” you ask, breaking the deafening silence that filled the room. “they could help you a lot more than i can,” you say, gaze glued to your hands applying disinfectant to your wound.
“i’m sure they could, but you’ve always had better bedside service,” she replies, wincing shortly when you press into her stomach. you raise a brow in warning, continuing to clean her injuries.
there was a reason you hadn’t answered her calls, hadn’t replied to her texts. you broke up over four months ago, yet every time she called, you came, and if you didn’t, she’d come to you. the cycle was unhealthy, you knew that, but so is the insatiable drug they call love.
izogie knew that you’d come too, because that’s what you do for those you love. a part of her felt bad for preying upon a vulnerable piece of your heart, the piece that’d she carved herself into, but the other craved being around you, because only you could make her feel better. though lately, you’d been pulling away. the leftover love you held for her was fading, because in your heart you both knew that she wouldn’t change, and that this cycle would repeat until one of you let go.
you finished disinfecting the wound, applying anti-inflammatory healing ointment before wrapping gauze around her torso. once you finished, you looked up at her, finding her eyes already on you. her mouth parted to allow her tongue to wipe over he bottom lip.
“this position is awfully familiar, no?”
you blinked up at her before rubbing your hands over your thighs as you stood. looking around you wrapped your cardigan around yourself. “well, you’re all patched up, so…i don’t see any reason for you to stay.”
“not one?” she asks, head turning as you washed your hands beside her.
you kept your eyes on the suds forming on your hands. “not a good one.” you clarify.
she hums quietly as you dry your hands, turning to face the island as you put away the kit. “you don’t worry about me anymore.” she states instead the usual question. “what if i need assistance changing my bandages?”
“then you go to the hospital, izogie. not show up at my place well after midnight expecting me to fix you.” your reply comes out tired, and you are, so you’re finally letting her know.
“yet you always do, don’t you?” her words come out more bitter than she intends. you shut the closet door, turning to her.
“maybe that’s the problem.”
her face softens, brows that were previously knit relaxing in your presence. you exhale, trying to find the words that have been struggling to come to light for weeks.
“i can’t do this anymore,” you say, motioning between the two of you. “this back and forth, running ‘round in circles thing with you. i did when we were friends, i did it when we were together, but i can’t do it now.”
izogie’s head drops, palms tightening into fists atop the counter as she listens. “i’ve given you so much, and i’ve been fine with hardly anything in return, but i deserve better than that.”
your voice is soft and timid as you speak, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve as your eyes begin to shine. you look down to prevent izogie from seeing her effect on you, but she already has. her heart falters seeing you cry, especially knowing she’s the cause. “so, i need you to go,” you say, sniffing as you look up, as a tear falls down your cheek, “i need you to let me go.”
the taller woman bites the inside of her cheek, an attempt to get that pain to mask the one she felt in her chest. she hated seeing you cry, and would often tell off anybody who did so much as look at you wrong, but this time, she needed to take a long look in the mirror. look at the woman who made the love of her life struggle to hold on to the pieces of herself in her own home.
so she walks around the counter, going to stand directly in front of you as she takes you in, trying to cement the moment to memory. you don’t want to look at her, because you risk breaking the fragile boundary you’ve been trying to create. it isn’t until she shakily whispers, “please, look at me,” that you slowly lift your eyes to hers. her irises are swimming with emotions you know all to well; regret, uncertainty, acceptance.
her lower lip trembles. you frown, wanting to ease her pain, but you know that’s impossible without hurting yourself in the long run. she wraps strong arms around your waist as she pulls you into her. hesitantly, you curl your arms up her shoulder blades, both of you relaxing into the other’s touch. izogie tucks her chin into your neck, closing her eyes as your hands press into her. you feel damp droplets prick onto your skin through the wool of your top as her arms get impossibly tighter around you, wanting you closer.
you stay there. every word left unsaid or actions left undone being released in the moment, being freed.
you’re the first to pull away, hands sliding down her back, trailing down her forearms and to her hands. you breathe deeply as you look up at her, tear-stained cheeks glistening under the warm light.
she keeps her eyes on you as she walks backwards, holding onto your hand until her arms can no longer reach. you fold your arms around your middle, watching her as she grabs the knob, giving you one last look. you close your eyes, looking down to your sock-clad feet, only looking up once you hear the door shut.
gone, you think, which is good. it should stay that way.
right?
i keep lettin’ you back in. how can i explain myself? as painful as this thing has been, i just can’t be with no one else. see i know what we’ve got to do. you let go, and i’ll let go too. cause no one’s hurt me more than you, and no one ever will.
