#soraya farzan

[sunny-jade]

A Pirate's Concern

Soraya sits at her breakfast table, a large shirt hanging on her slight frame, sipping at the coffee she’d made while waiting for the rest of breakfast to cook.  

When the door to her apartment bangs open and then slams shut, she doesn’t even blink, having waited for this response for a while.  An anxious highlander strides into the kitchen, stopping short at the image of the small miqo’te serenely drinking out of a large mug.

“You’re sleeping with fucking Mistbeard?!”  Amira crosses the kitchen in a few short steps, standing in front of her smaller friend.  “What the devil are you thinking getting involved with a pirate like that?”

Meeting the larger woman’s eyes, she grins up at her.  “His name is Eynzahr, actually.  He hasn’t been Mistbeard in a very long time. Besides, you’re not one to talk, are you, Captain Rex?”

Amira opens her mouth to continue arguing before hearing a noise. Soraya’s eyes flick to the doorway behind her and a smile brightens her face, making the pirate whirl on the spot.  Her own eyes widen at the sight of a roegadyn with a towel around his waist, hair still disheveled from a shower.  “Is everything alright, Fyrblyss? Who’s this?”

Soraya stands and moves around Amira, going to the man filling the doorframe and tugging him down for a kiss.  “This is my friend, Amira.  She wants to make sure I’m safe.”

He rumbles in pleasure at her touch, then shifts back to standing, offering a hand to the baffled highlander standing in Soraya’s kitchen.  “Nice to meet you, I’m glad someone else keeps an eye on her.”

Baffled, Amira shakes his hand and then makes her excuses, shooting a furious glance at Soraya before leaving again, the door slamming behind her.

Settling at the table, Eynzahr stares after her for a moment.  “She alright?”

Laughing, Soraya takes the food off the heat, serving them both before sitting across from him.  “She is, she just heard some distressing news and wanted to make sure I was alright.”

Meeting her eyes with a knowing look, he just shakes his head and digs into his food.  “I hope she’s not going to spread that around.  I don’t even know how you found out, let alone her.  And I promised the Admiral I would set it aside a long time ago.”

Digging into her own food, Soraya studies her roegadyn lover for a moment.  “She won’t tell anyone.  She knows I know too much about her to do that.”

Eynzahr grins at her, then continues eating.  “If you’re sure, I’ll trust you, Fyrblyss.”

[clerisy-fc]

Soraya is a dancer of various styles, all of them keep her thighs incredibly strong.

[urbantm-blog]

— — — -        *     ♡     ◟       𝙵𝙰𝚁𝚉𝙰𝙽,     𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙷𝙸𝚃𝙰     𝙵𝙰𝙸𝚁𝚄𝚉𝙰.     twenty   -   six.     music     critic          &          barista.     aesthetics     include:     a     collection     of     stick   -   and   -   poke     tattoos     placed     haphazardly     across     limbs,     pen     constantly     tucked     behind     messy     curls,     headphones     dangling     around     your     neck,     heavily   -   ringed     fingers     and     a     thick,     throaty     laugh,     jeans     that     are     more     holes     than     fabric,          &          the     lingering     scent     of     sweet     incense     on     all     your     clothes.

𝟶𝟶𝟷.          𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂.

full     name.     anahita     fairuza     farzan. nicknames.     goes     by     ana     instead     of     her     full     name. age.     twenty   -  six. date     of     birth.     july     fifth. place     of     birth.     shiraz,     iran. zodiac.     cancer. nationality.     iranian. occupation.     music     critic          &          barista. gender     &     pronouns.     demigirl.     she/her,     sometimes     they/them. sexuality.     pansexual     panromantic,     definite     female     preference. hogwarts     house.     slytherin.

𝟶𝟶𝟸.          𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈.

okay,  just  before  i  get  to  rambling:  anahita  goes  exclusively  by  ana.  use  her  full name,  and  you’ll  probably  get  the  full  force  of  her  rage  bearing  down  on  you  like  some mythic  god.  she  hates  her  full  name.

anahita  fairuza  farzan  was  a  whirlwind  from  the  moment  she  was  born,  and  she  fucking  knows  it.  her  family  never  really  noticed,  though,  because  they  were  all  whirlwinds  of  their  own  accord.  born  to  a  winemaker  and  a  poet,  her  upbringing  was,  in  her  own  terms,  “idyllic”.  her  parents  weren’t  strict,  and  they  very  much  let  all  their  children  kind  of  find  their  own  ways  in  life.  soraya  and  darius  farzan  were  never  bothered  about  trying  to  fit  their  children  into  molds,  because  they  themselves  had  been  pressured  into  careers  they  didn’t  want     (     soraya  as  a  nurse,  darius  as  an  engineer     )     and  found  little  happiness.  not  wanting  that  for  their  kids,  they  just  let  each  and  every  one  find  their  own  ways  in  life.

from  the  get - go,  ana  was  a  very  artistic  kid.  her  mother  taught  her  how  to  write  poetry  and  it  wasn’t  long  before  her  poetry  turned  into  song  lyrics.  fluent  in  both  arabic  and  english,  her  writing  was  a  mess   ---   half - arabic,  half - english,  they  looked  a  wreck  on  paper  but  once  she  started  playing  them  and  singing,  they  fit  together  perfectly.  by  the  time  she  was  ten,  ana  could  play  guitar,  piano,  violin  and  varying  traditional  iranian  instruments.

ana’s  family  isn’t  exactly  small.  with  three  older  siblings  and  three  younger  ones,  soraya  and  darius  had  their  hands  full  but  the  kids  very  much  looked  after  each  other  and  themselves.  the  house  was  always  full,  but  they  rarely  fought  and  they  all  coexisted  wonderfully.  ana  adores  all  of  her  siblings,  and  would  literally  fight  someone  for  them.

she’s  always  had  a  fascination  with  the  united  states,  especially  with  the  music  scene  so  at  sixteen,  with  her  parents’  blessing,  she  shipped  off  to  seattle  with  nothing  but  a  few  suitcases  and  her  instruments.  she  found  herself  a  little  apartment  in  capitol  hill,  and  the  rest  is  history.

ana’s  notoriously  good  with  people.  she  can  talk  your  arm  off  and  charm  you  senseless  at  the  same  time,  so  it  wasn’t  long  before  she’d  charmed  her  way  into  a  waitressing  gig.  she  found  a  few  lounges  to  play  gigs  at,  and  she  was  in  her  absolute  element  for  a  few  years.  she  found  so  much  freedom  and  happiness  within  herself  during  those  few  years,  and  it  shaped  her  like  nothing  else.

she’s  recently  started  working  as  a  music  critic,  as  well  as  working  as  a  barista  at  starbucks  and  playing  gigs  wherever  she  can.  you  can  usually  see  her  at  shows,  three  pens  tucked  into  her  hair,  listening  intently  and  making  notes  in  a  moleskine  notebook.

ana  is  an  individual  before  anything  else.  she’s  cultivated  her  own  style  over  the  years,  and  she’s  so  proud  of  herself.  she  doesn’t  listen  to  negativity  ---   she  literally  wears  a  bracelet  that  says  ‘fuck  what  they  think’  and  lives  by  her  own  rules.  she’s  a  free  spirit  in  the  extreme,  and  that’s  a  good  portion  of  her  charm.

she  makes  it  a  point  to  try  and  talk  to  everyone  she  meets.  as  such,  her  friendship  circle  is  wide  and  diverse  beyond  belief.  she  likes  to  think  that  she’s  just  that  charming  that  no - one  can  say  no  to  her,  but  in  reality  she  just  talks  people  into  liking  her.

she  visits  iran  every  year,  and  calls  her  parents  three  times  a  week.  she  facetimes  all  her  siblings,  and  goes  home  every  time  someone  has  a  baby  or  gets  married  or  whatnot.   she’s  family - oriented  in  the  extreme,  and  just  loves  people.

i  love  her  so  much  please  be  her  friend

[izakaya-jinh]

"You fear Death?

Well, consider the alternative: the misery of being trapped in a state between living and dying, alive but not whole, crawling through each day to taste even a glimpse of what others call life while every ounce of your flesh betrays you with immeasurable pain and your mind rots from the inside until you don't even notice your body has shriveled to a husk because your entire existence has frayed so utterly that you can't even feel anymore.

I, for one, would give Death a kiss on his horrid, bony lips if it meant avoiding such a fate. And I assure you, that most certainly is what awaits you if you pursue some false hope of immortality." - Cehli Bajhiri; excerpted from a letter to Sharlayan Sage Soraya Farzan.