— flower made of iron @ofscfiyas-blog - Tumblr Blog

” This beauty will only make you a concubine… To become a sultana , you must use your beauty with your brain and heart… “

#( ❄ — a tornado of roses from divine ❛ MIRROR ❜

wnq-writers

She was a rose but her thorns made everyone who picked her up drop her

sandralidell // Running For Trains (via wordsnquotes)

#( ❄ — flowery tongues have thorny throats ❛ MUSINGS ❜

diaryofacreativehoarder

#( ❄ — the earth does bloom where her feet may fall ❛ AESTHETICS ❜

fymarveluniverse

#( ❄ — flowery tongues have thorny throats ❛ MUSINGS ❜

“What are you doing out here, sweet thing?” Alexius’s voice was soft as he picked the kitten from the snow, its furry body looking especially tiny and fragile in his hands. He had seen grown men whining about the cold and snow; it was difficult to imagine that such a small, helpless animal could be handling it better. “Do you know who she might belong to? She should be inside,” he asked the nearest person, tucking the cat in close to his chest with a frown.

safiya thorne is not familiar with letting things GO. with recognizing a losing fight and MOVING ON. her language is that of fight, that of stubborn rebellion. perhaps, had her father actually taken the time to train her and not forbid it like he had, the young lady would have learned this lesson. alas, he did not, and so her self-teachings and escapades have only taught her how to be BULLHEADED and foolish. the cat is faster than her ( of course it is! ) and yet she challenges it as if she has a chance. she should not be SHOCKED when the furry being flees to the outside world and ends up in safer arms. when the man asks his question, she’s already charging towards him. “ some lady, i am not certain, but if i don’t get her back i-, “ she stops, catches her breath, then quirks an . “ why did she not run from you? “

#( ❄ — alexius rosenfeld ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜#fun fact she's actually chasing a cat in this gif

Looking at the outstretched arm in front of him, Leo couldn’t help but laugh at the suggestion the other person was making. “You know what I do for a living, don’t you?” But since his challenger would not be swayed, Leo just sighed and clasped the hand stretched across the table. “Standard rules: only one arm can be used, elbows must not leave the table.”

NO -- she certainly does not know who he is, WHAT he is. but safiya considers this a scare tactic, a way to make her cower like a little girl, running home to her mother. she would not. her lips have already spoken, the game has been set and the lady was not a quitter, not a COWARD. “ i do not care which is different, “ though maybe she should -- some part of her thinks; part which she chooses to actively ignore. his hand, hot and strong, is frighteningly larger than her own. “ i know the rules -- stop talking and start doing. “ she positions herself accordingly, elbow touching the table.

#( ❄ — leo vance ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜#she legit has no clue what she's getting into #stupid child #*shakes head*

outside the castle at last, henry was roaming the courtyard and reveling in the snow on his shoulders and tangled in his hair. footsteps crunched underfoot behind him, but he did not turn around — instead, he predicted a complaint of the weather, and spoke without looking. “ i have already seen countless people proclaim their hatred for the snow — and they have only seen one minor blizzard. do they know not of where they are ? ”

she shivers when a flake touches her neck; soft skin abruptly taken hostage by the chill. she rubs palms over arms, procuring more warmth as she walks down the courtyard. safiya tends to avoid monarchs ( speaking in titles and having to watch her tongue is unbearable ), but alas, she is not always able to steer clear of them. not for long. " i’m afraid it’s not the SNOW that makes us uneasy, your grace, “ she tells him, although perhaps it’s only safiya who holds a tender place in her heart for the cold petals, “ it’s the cold. “

#( ❄ — henry montague ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜#what is this garbage w o w my apologies

Balls out of the snow? How…odd, how… interesting. Aurelius had never been one for games really, although he did recall a time when he used to play them during Daniel’s youth. Surely the boy would have loved such a game in those years and Aurelius would have been happy to oblige. He thinks now he would still be if only someone asked, the lap dog normally appeased others to make them happy after all, he didn’t understand why people felt the need not to when it hurt nothing…except Aurelius. “I’ve never heard of such a game, do you know if it’s played here often?” His tone curious in nature as he looks onward to the other. “No games come to mind that are similar back home, unless the children swapped snow for rocks and that wouldn’t be very fun.” He muses out loud, taking a brief moment to pale at the though. Surely if any children would play such a game it would be the ones from Ironhaven.

the scooping motion she makes is quick, fox-like and gracious. the cold of snow impregnates itself onto her palm, her fingertips ( she swears she can almost feel it in her very bones ), but by now the lady is coming to terms with the white substance. besides, it was never the SNOW she resented -- no, the snow she found quite LOVELY --, it was the temperature. the freezing cold that seeps into her limbs and makes her shiver every night despite the furs and fires. she attempts to make a proper ball of snow, the way she’s seen others do it. “ i’ve seen it plenty of times, sir, “ she informs him, molding the snow in her palms to the best of her ability. by the time she’s done, a frown covers her lips. “ i’m not very good at it -- the BUILDING part of it, anyways. “ at the mention of rocks, her eyes perk up, glance aims directly at him. the frown melts into a smile, warm and beautiful ( she does not recall the last time she felt such tenderness in her being, but the reference to her HOME is enough to transform her mood ). “ rocks can be painful, yes, but that does not omit the fun in them. if anything, they make you quicker. “

#( ❄ — aurelius brighild ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜

ineffcble

Thoughts on the latest arrivals?

❯❯ ❝ Oh, SAFIYA, Safiya. I want to see you get HURT. Little LUCREZIA seems sweet, but I can’t wait to see her get thrown to the WOLVES too. ALISTAIR, I beg you to control your daughter. This is NOT the time to stop and smell the NON-EXISTENT roses, RUDRAKSH. And PLEASE, we know how I feel about the GOD walking among us, NEKHBET. AURELIUS makes me wonder, is the court doggy no bark, and no BITE ?? What use is that ?? I thought Ironhaven made them a BIT better than that. Which brings me to ALEXIUS. My, MY !! What big arms you have, Little Red says. To which he replies, “ The better to hug you with !! “ Are those muscles for show, or what ?? ❞

@ofscfiyas @lvcrezics @alistair-rothschild @rudraksh-cassius @nekhbetkhalid @aureliusbrighild @alexiusrosenfeld

#( ❄ — wild flowers whisper where she walks ❛ MENTIONS ❜#safiya: figHT mE I'LL SHow u HURt

“i cannot say that surprises me. it does all taste of salt, and it is always cold.” he replied with a shrug. her shock made him snort a little, and he shook his head. “it is only a room for let. i do not have the wealth to pay for any more, at the moment. i left almost everything i own behind in dracborough.” her question then gave him pause. “aye, we are all humans. but there is always the question of etiquette and properness.”

she shivers at that – nothing makes her want to GAG as much as lukewarm soups. she eats it regardless, of course ( a full belly is better than an empty one and safiya is not about to let her body weaken out of DISTASTE ). “ what about HOME – do you miss that? ” she knowspausing and awaiting an answer is the correct thing to do, yet her lips form another inquiry. “ tell me about it – dracborough. what does the food taste like there? ” her eyebrow arches slightly, and the look of disbelief crossing her features is more habit than actual surprise. “etiquette – i believe you mean lies. we’re taught to build off false properness, as you call it, and are left with no sustenance. strip away the titles and exquisite fabrics and rare stones – what are you left with? something true – something of import. skin and bones; those matter, as long as a heart’s still beating.” she shakes her head. “ what i believe i’m trying to say is: i made a blunt comment. you did not deserve that, so i apologize. i would be grateful if you would just accept it and allow me to pretend i never made a fool of myself in front of a perfect stranger. “

#( ❄ — cesar fitzborough ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜

how a mere girl such as safiya managed to get under selena’s skin remained a mystery to her. she could think about dismembering a grown man and plunging her sword through other peoples chest, but the thought of having to spend an entire day with her little sister struck fear in the lady. a sigh escaped her lips, however she didn’t push safiya away, instead simply allowed her to fix her hair. selena knew the other was better at it anyway, safiya had always been more lady than warrior. ‘’ i am not terrible at it.’’ she retorts, annoyed at her sisters words. at least selena tried to be the kind of lady court required her to be. she wore those impractical dresses and corsets that threatened to kill her one day .. while she was sure safiya would never follow in her footsteps and kill a man in cold blood. ‘’ sadly, i am very well aware of that. & be careful, if you rip out my hair i will beat you.’‘

SILK HIDING STEEL – an expression that certainly fits the pastel lady like a glove. she’s all sugar and spice; all lemon cakes with an extra touch of bitterness, but just enough sweet to make the experience bearable. safiya likes her dresses. likes her long hair with waves like the tranquil sea. likes the way her sparkly heels echo off marble corridors. most of all, she likes the way no one suspects the INNOCENT faced girl; most believe her to be fragile. a dove caught in the storm. she feels more HAWK than dove. “ no – you just don’t enjoy it half as much as i do. ” safiya admits ( her sister can, sometimes, manage a decent styling ). thin fingers and brush work through selena’s hair, and at the threat safiya chuckles.“ you are incapable of hurting me, sweet sister, ” she says, the certainly in her voice carries a tune that speaks of solid trust. a foundation so stable safiya doubts anything could tear them apart.

#( ❄ — selena thorne ❛ CONVERSATIONS ❜

she seems mildly frightened of him, which has, no matter the person giving off cowardly airs, been an entertainment to octavius through many a year. it’s a moment before he recognizes her. selena’s sister. how different she is from his son’s betrothed. he can still remember the day selena brought him that drunkard’s head, when still in the new world. “i suppose knowing the stag is paramount to killing it. but you wouldn’t, would you.” he wonders if she can see the expression on his face at all. she is so focused on the ground. “no harm done. there will be other deer.” he sighs. “stop looking as if i’m about to turn my arrow on you. you’ll have to scare a few more deer away before i deem that necessary.”

safiya has a penchant for RECKLESS behavior. running her mouth, picking the WRONGfights. her fear is not usually prone to stopping her. if anything, the damn sensation tends to work like a magic potion; a substance to get her GOING. the combination of fear and anger, however, has no match. she doesn’t have to look at him to know what he’s thinking. his tone speaks volumes; words beyond those on his lips. he’s underestimating her. they allunderestimate her. and nothing upsets her more than feeling minimized to a silly little girl with silly little dresses. “ i am not afraid of –, ” her tone is a few pitches too high, her expression too fierce. she forces herself to look at him, but holds her tongue. afraid of your arrows, she wants to finish. afraid of YOU. ( ah, but she’s LYING there, isn’t she? ) she breathes. ” apologies, your majesty, ” safiya says through her teeth, and there’s dishonesty in her amend. “ i did not mean to disturb you or your hunt. you were so silent that i failed to notice your presence. i’m certain the next stag won’t get away. ” her words are rehearsed: they are what she’ssupposed to say. her eyes, however, treacherous little things, are iron. she hopes the next stag does get away.