#astra chronicles
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astraveil · 1 year ago
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here i was, picking this option because i thought it’d be funny. “oh yeah astra’ll say this with aethis levels of playfulness, his reaction will be great”
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but then he decided to say this and it’s just. i—
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LIKE—
C’MON MAN I ONLY HAVE SO MANY BRAIN CELLS LEFT YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT
these two drive me crazy in the best way possible, best brainrot ever
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astraveil · 10 months ago
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ASTRA YUKIHANE MY BELOVED BLORBO DAUGHTER ; O ;
i don’t think i’ve ever been this heavily invested in an OC of mine before astra, so i’m very happy that a lot of my progress in art and composition is because of my never-ending pile of brainworms lmao
also, her and g’raha together give me such insane serotonin, so i hope it brings you joy like they do for me!!! (and i hope you feel better soon!)
my brain is actively exploding inside my head (migraine) so please,,,, a wol question,,,,
share with me your favorite screenshots/art pieces/headcanons of your wol and/or OCs <3
they bring me joy <33
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andoryuanzuru · 13 days ago
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XENOBLADE CHRONICLES X ON THE NINTENDO SWITCH IS REAL!!!
MARCH 20th 2025 CAN'T COME SOONER!!!
[TWITTER][COMMISSION][KO-FI][PATREON][PORTFOLIO]
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melien · 10 months ago
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𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝑾𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑾𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒆'𝒅 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓
🎵
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astrainc · 2 years ago
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end of the praeludium
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astraveil · 10 months ago
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Not so much one particular thing, but a lot of jewelry is really precious to Astra. She’s a naturally sentimental person, so gifts of that nature she’ll cherish and wear as often as she can; while she’s collected a lot of it over her adventures, her favorite pieces to wear are often gifts from her loved ones.
An azurite ring gifted to her by her mother, a bracelet given to her on her nameday by G’raha and Aethis, crafted lovingly from obsidian and azurite sourced from the Azim Steppe, a white sweet pea necklace Aethis crafted on her own travels, a crystalline earcuff and necklace that G’raha commissioned Tataru to make…
She loves and cherishes them all as much as she does the people and memories attached to them.
What is your WoL's most precious item?
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sacrivn · 1 month ago
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the chronicles are going to get an update w/ its content! now as you go thru the story, you will be able to fill out the following sections;
-key codes for the websites you visit
-a checklist of the debts you pay back
-the verses of the astra texts
-information on the factions you join as time goes by + your experiences working for/with them
-photographs
i’m also combining the achievements and endings screens into one!
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sharpfamily · 1 year ago
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Per Aspera Ad Astra
Happy Birthday to our favourite ex-auror potions professor! Three birthdays in the life of Aesop Sharp, brought to you by@tea-withjamandbread and @aesopsharpmybeloved. Part of collections A New Chance at Life as well as The Sharp Family Chronicles. Aesop Sharp x (adult) MC!reader
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word count: 9.4 k
tw: mentions of alcohol abuse, depression, suggestive content, tooth-rotting fluff
July 1st 1881
It’s been a few days since he’s been released from St Mungo’s. Again. Dinah still had a few more days to attend to her responsibilities in Hogwarts, however, for the time being, she seemed to trust Aesop not to do anything too crazy until the term officially ended. Aesop soon discovered that all of his liquor bottles, both empty and full, had disappeared. Wonderful. There was not a single drop of alcohol left in his house. At first he felt annoyed. Irritated. Already trying to think of a way to get at least a single drink, just a little something to take the edge off. 
He didn’t have an owl, and he couldn’t exactly Floo, much less walk to some shop or pub. Not in his current state. Wiggenweld potion could only do so much, and while it did heal the smaller cuts and scrapes and helped with the pain, his hands were still bandaged in order to keep the healing balm applied to them from drying up while it restored his mangled hands. If he didn’t look miserable before his breakdown, he absolutely looked miserable now.
There was no way he could go anywhere like this… and there was no way anyone would be willing to bring him anything either. Aesop didn’t know how many people knew about his collapse - he was certain Dinah would make sure the number was minimal - but he was absolutely certain his mother knew. Abraham too, possibly. And the very thought of flooiong one of his (now former) colleagues to ask them to send him a drink? He shuddered. No. They’d ask questions. They’d possibly come over. They couldn’t see him like this.
Dinah was right. As she usually was, of course. He probably should lay off the booze for a while. Aesop wheeled himself throughout the downstairs of his childhood home. The mirror in the ground floor bathroom was left nothing more than a frame - Dinah probably vanished all of the broken glass. As he slowly rode through his kitchen, a picture frame caught his eye. In it was a photograph, and Aesop almost couldn't recognise his own face in it. 
He didn’t even know why Ashley would get a camera - probably to take photos of her son, first and foremost - but she had brought it to his birthday dinner last year. She wasn’t a particularly good photographer, but a few nice shots were taken that night a year ago. This was one of them - he was standing by the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, actually looking quite handsome and very confident, Dinah next to him and Abraham on the other side. The photograph was moving like they were moving back then - grinning, laughing, clinking their glasses together.
And then, suddenly, Ashley appeared, peeking out from the corner of the photo, wanting to be in the picture while taking it. She looked like she always did - carefree, optimistic, confident. Her wild streak has lowered somewhat since she and her wife got their little boy, but she was still the kind of person who walked into the room and lit it up with her mere presence.
He wheeled over to the photograph and placed it face down on the shelf where it stood. He couldn’t look at it anymore. Those happy memories had been his reality only a year ago. To him, though, it felt like a century had passed. The man whose birthday was being celebrated in that photograph was someone else. A happy man with his whole life ahead of him. A man with a successful career, who still struggled with his love life to be certain, but who hadn’t given up on his dream of settling down and raising a family in the home in which he himself had spent his entire life. 
A family? He wasn’t sure he could even… Not that anyone would ever want that from him anymore. Who could see him as any more than the cripple that he was. That dream of having a family of his own died the moment he stepped on to that godforsaken ship. It had vanished the very moment he had led his partner, his oldest friend, the one he was supposed to protect, to her death. His hubris having cost her all of her dreams and plans as well.
He decided that the birthday captured in the photograph Ashley had taken would be the last one he celebrated. He would have more birthdays, of course, Dinah having knocked some sense into him after his breakdown. He had already been the cause of enough pain and suffering for those he cared about the most. So he would make a point to survive, to continue existing, for them, but he saw no need to boast about having circled the sun one more time. Not when his partner hadn’t circled it with him.
Suddenly he heard the door open. He wasn't expecting company, in fact he had specifically requested that no one visit him today. He didn't want to worry anyone but he also didn't want to face their feeble attempts at cheering him up, at making him feel special on the anniversary of his birth. He didn't want to see the sadness and pity in their eyes. They did their best to hide it, of course, but he knew it was there. He was a pitiful sight indeed. He wheeled himself around as fast as he could manage and drew his wand, not that it would do him much good in his current state, the bandages on his hands making his grip awkward. If it came to it, he didn't know if he'd even be able to defend himself and his home in the event of an unsavory intruder.
He recognized the footsteps instantly and pocketed his wand.
Of course she'd show up anyways. The nerve.
Dinah bloody Hecat.
He heard the door close and wheeled himself to greet his guest. He'd at least give her that courtesy. When the younger, now older looking woman appeared in his line of sight, he saw she had come armed with a large bag of groceries. She looked at him.
"You look like hell."
"Lovely to see you too."
Dinah walked right past him, heading straight for the kitchen. Aesop thought she might have walked straight into him if he hadn’t quickly wheeled himself backwards. He supposed he still retained some of his Auror reflexes even after everything.
Dinah set down her bag and started unloading everything, pulling out potatoes, carrots, parsnips, various herbs, a jar of broth, some dried mushrooms and a large piece of meat out of the bag. Aesop knew instantly that she had come here on someone else’s errand. She had never been much of a cook herself after all. Aesop however, recognized his mother’s venison stew when he saw it, even in its currently disassembled state. 
“Mum sent you, didn’t she."
It wasn't a question.
“She’s worried about you, Aesop. Especially today of all days”
“There’s nothing special about today. It’s just… a day”
“It’s your birthday, Aesop”
“Why does that even ma-“
Dinah dind't give him the time to finish, fixing him with a stare so intense, he had to stifle a tremble.
“It matters because 34 years ago your mother labored for about the same number of hours in order to bring you into this world. She then raised you along with your father until he was gone. Then she somehow found the strength to raise you AND provide for you by herself while grieving her own husband. It matters because she made sure you had everything you needed for your education, because she saw you through your Auror training AND career and earlier this year, she thought she’d be laying you to rest next to her husband instead of the other way around. So today, on the anniversary of your birth, even though YOU don’t want to see her, she STILL wanted to make sure you got to eat your favorite meal, so I am here, Aesop Theodore Sharp, on HER errand and I WILL see this through, even if I have to bind you to that infernal chair of yours and force feed you myself.”
Aesop pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his mother deserved better than the worry he had put her through not just this year, but during his entire career as an Auror. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that Dinah could, and would follow through with her threat. Hell, the woman could have taken him down at his peak, let alone the sorry state he currently found himself in.
"Dinah-"
"As I was saying, I'm not here to celebrate. I’m here to make sure you don't starve to death. Also this house needs tidying up… you know I'm always afraid of tripping over something or another when I visit you nowadays. My balance isn't the worst for someone my…well for someone with the body I have, but it's not getting any better"
It was easy for Aesop to forget that Dinah, while exhibiting a strong facade and with her fierce personality, still hadn’t fully made peace with her own career-ending injury. Although she had remade herself as Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he knew this was not her first choice. He would have to remake himself in due time, the pension he received from the Ministry barely covering his living expenses, but he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet at least.
Dinah busied herself browning the meat for the stew when she addressed her friend once more.
"You need to bathe, Aesop, you smell quite terrible."
"I… it's been a few days."
"I can tell. Do you need my help or can you manage on your own?"
"I think I can manage."
“Good."
Aesop wheeled himself to his bedroom where he carefully got undressed and discarded his clothes in the now overflowing laundry bin. Well, it wasn’t exactly his bedroom, the room had originally served as a study, however, following his injury, ascending the flight of stairs that led to his bedroom was no longer an option, so his mother had conjured a bed and had attempted to make the room as cozy as she could. He appreciated her efforts, but it just wasn’t the same. Nothing was, come to think about it. 
With a towel around his body for some semblance of privacy, he slowly made his way to the bathroom and took the bandages off his hands. They looked a little better today, but he would still need to reapply that healing balm for another week according to the Healers at St Mungo’s. He sat on the bench that had been conjured in the shower and turned the water on. He carefully went through the now considerably lengthy ritual of lathering his hair and body, being careful not to irritate his hands too much. 
The scars on his leg and face used to be excruciating, however the passage of time as well as rigorous desensitization as part of his shower routine had made them almost painless to the touch. If only his blasted leg would have improved in the same manner he’d maybe have a shot at a fulfilling life. However, he had been told to get used to it, to “learn to live” with his injury. He could never get used to this. He would never get used to it. Perhaps there was something out there that could help him.
He put those thoughts aside and shut the water off, dried himself and opened the door leading to his hopefully temporary bedroom. He instantly noticed that the windows had been opened, a warm summer breeze gently blowing in the large bedroom. His bed had been made, the overflowing laundry bin had been emptied and there were clean, comfortable clothes laid out on his bed, next to the armchair he sat on while getting dressed. 
That woman truly was incorrigible. As he got dressed though, he realized how nice it felt to breathe the fresh summer air that was cleansing the room, as opposed to the stale air he had been inhaling ever since he had been discharged from St Mungo’s. He hadn’t been opening the windows at night like he used to before his injury. In that moment, he remembered how much he enjoyed it, though. Tonight he’d make a point to open his bedroom windows before turning in. He also realized how his shower, how the simple turned not-so-simple act of washing his body had put him in a slightly better mood. He applied the healing balm to his hands and bandaged them before making his way towards the door.
As Aesop left his bedroom, he could already smell the stew Dinah had prepared, which had just started to simmer. He could also smell the freshly brewed tea she had prepared. As he approached her, seated at the dining room table, the chair that would normally be next to her having been vanished in what he assumed was an invitation to join her, he noticed she had already poured them both a cup, and that she was currently poring over his mail, which had accumulated over the past week. He hadn’t bothered to sort through any of it since returning home.
“Still only cream in your tea?”
“Of course”
Dinah handed him his cup as well as a pile of letters
“These require your immediate attention”
“I’ll… make sure I deal with them, then”
Dinah handed him a quill, barely looking up from her organizing.
“No time like the present, Aesop.”
Aesop took the quill without argument and started filling out the various forms Dinah had given him. Applications for additional disability pay from the Ministry, tax forms, appeal letters to send to the Ministry requesting they cover the various experimental treatments he had received to attempt to heal his injury sustained in the line of duty. Once in awhile Dinah added a form or two to his workload, while sorting out the mail she deemed as rubbish.
“This one appears to be an offer letter fo work for the Auror recruitment program”
“They told me to 'take all the time I need' but they’re really hoping I don’t need time at all don’t they. That I’ll just bounce back, so to speak.”
“It would appear so”
Aesop sighed. “I’m not ready, Dinah. I can barely take care of myself at the moment. I can barely even walk from here to the front door of my own house. How could I-”
Dinah placed her hand on his
“You don’t have to accept the position right now, Aesop. I read the letter and they appear willing to wait for you to recover more before you’d-”
“I’m not sure I even want that job. I don’t think it would be right for me to take it”
“You can think about it later. For now, let’s get us some fresh air.”
Dinah stood up and made her way towards the side door, past the kitchen, where the stew she had prepared was still simmering. Aesop followed her outside. She sat on the stone bench closest to the house, overlooking the now quite unkempt garden. Aesop wheeled himself right next to her, a difficult feat on the uneven terrain. He really ought to get walking again, lest he spend the rest of his life confined to his house. They sat in comfortable silence.
“That stew does smell delicious. You did a great job.”
“Well, your mother was very clear in her instructions. All I did was follow.”
“You did so much more than that.”
“I know you’d have done the same for me. You did, in fact, if I remember correctly.” Aesop had been there for her when Dinah had been wounded on the job. He had been there at the hospital, and had helped her tremendously when she moved back to her home. He had even offered for her to move back in with him. They were no longer romantically involved, but he had still been ready to put his life and plans on pause to help her in any way he could. She had declined his kind offer but appreciated it nonetheless.
“Yes, well… that’s what friends are for, I suppose.”
They had been through so much together. A failed romantic relationship turned friendship for the ages. They had each seen each other at their worst and would eventually make peace with their respective situations, and see themselves at their best once more. For now, though, the present moment was all that existed.
"You know, you told me I'd hate you come September… you're going to try a lot harder to get me to that point."
"Term just ended. I have plenty more time now to be a thorn in your side."
Aesop chuckled, perhaps for the first time in a long time
"Thank you for being here today."
July 1st 1893
The last week of school flew by in front of Aesop’s eyes. Exams were done, and both teachers and students could breathe a sigh of relief. He had helped his sweetheart settle into the little house she rented at the edge of Hogsmeade throughout the last few days, her various books and tomes, the majority of her clothes, the little knick knacks and memorabilia she collected during her three years at Hogwarts. 
And, of course, the beasts. Some would be released back into the wild, as the poachers throughout the Highlands severely lessened in numbers, following this insane (former) Ravenclaw student crashing into their operations. A few more vulnerable ones would be found new homes, as would be the girl’s new apprenticeship at Brood and Peck, and some she simply wished to keep and care for herself. With Aesop’s help, they transfigured the inside of a large chest into something of a Sanctuary for the beasts his love would be keeping. Deek aided in their relocation, having a hard time saying goodbye to them. (F/N) had promised the elf he was welcome to visit them whenever he wanted.
The Seventh year’s ball rolled around, then graduation, then the teary-eyed departure of most of the students on the Hogwarts express. Aesop wouldn’t admit it, but he too had shed a few tears all those years ago, when he boarded that train for the last time. 
Today, however, was not a day for tears. It was Saturday, which meant his sweetheart had two more days to settle in and get her bearings before officially beginning her adult life and her new job. She usually woke up before him, but it seemed the turbulent few days left the young woman in a state of exhaustion. It was the first time she spent the night in her new abode, and Aesop graciously agreed to help her find  out if the bed was any good. 
Well, it definitely wasn’t as good as the bed he slept in at Hogwarts, nor the one in his own house, being softer than he was used to. However, he noted that his back wasn’t troubling him upon waking up, which was a small victory. Much bigger victory currently craddled in his arms. His beautiful young lover was curled into his side, her breathing soft and even, her hair matted and messy with sleep, and a bit of drool was dried upon her jowl. The potions master thought she looked like a dream come true. 
He took in his surroundings, the room was unfamiliar and had yet to be lived in, but it had every bit the potential to become a very cozy bedroom. The floors were straight and firm, the wallpapers pleasant to the eyes, the windows let in a lot of natural light. Speaking of the windows, they were currently open to let the fresh summer morning air in, and Aesop could hear the wizarding village waking up and coming to life. In a few hours, the streets would be filled with people enjoying what was looking to be a sunny Saturday. Aesop closed his eyes again with a content little hum, burrowing further into the light smooth sheets and his sweetheart’s arms.
It all still felt rather surreal, really. Every single night he went to bed with the lovely Ravenclaw, he expected to wake alone and realize it's all been nothing but a dream. And while he did wake up alone on quite a few mornings, it took only a few seconds for him to know that it certainly hadn't been a dream. There was the faint floral scent of his lover's perfume clinging to his sheets, to his pillows, to him. It was all around him in this intoxicating vapor, mingling with the cool air around him. There was sometimes a note, carefully folded upon one of the seats of the large leather sofa, directly in his field of view from the bed. There was the absence of the shirt he wore the previous day…
Even now, when she was resting in his arms, soft, warm and absolutely real, Aesop bit into his bottom lip to make sure it wasn't a dream. He was startled then, as a sudden loud sound came from outside, followed by some more commotion and the frustrated voice of Zonko's shopkeeper. Probably a firework gone haywire. The young girl stirred against him, groaning quietly.
"Good morning, you," Aesop said softly, a smile appearing on his face on its own accord. His beloved tilted her head and her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was Aesop, and he felt his heart throb, when her own face stretched in a smile, her sleepy eyes immediately filled with love and devotion. She looked around the room then, an adorable little line between her eyebrows as she slowly began to realise she wasn't in Aesop's chambers, nor was she in her dorm. 
And then it hit her. The young woman released a breathy chuckle and her legs curled around one of Aesop's own. The potions master felt her warm cheek on his collarbone, he felt her hands caress his furry torso. It was then he had a little realisation himself - his sweetheart was also making sure she wasn't dreaming. And it was this knowledge that made him drop his head back onto the pillow, his eyes closing in bliss. 
“Good morning, Aesop,” she whispered before raising her head a little to place a kiss between his jaw and his chin. She released a soft sigh then, gently resting her forehead against his collarbone once more. Aesop’s heart beat loudly in his chest, and he was certain she knew it was only for her. “Merlin, it's so strange… no homework, no essays, no studying… so strange to wake up and know that I don’t have to do anything...” On her mouth was a content smile, very much reminding Aesop of a kneazle that got the cream. “Oh, yes,” he answered, voice light and teasing, “for exactly two days. Then off to work with you!” The girl snorted against his skin, and when she lifted her head again, Aesop was nearly certain she was keeping herself back from sticking out her tongue at him.
“Besides,” he continued, his large hands stroking over her sides and back, relishing at the feeling of her silky soft skin under his calloused fingertips, “don’t forget that you’re not in Hogwarts anymore. There are no house elves - you cook for yourself, clean after yourself, the full deal.” She was lazily twirling strands of his chest hair around her index finger, her face absolutely relaxed: “I can do that. I think. I can cook a little, and I tend to keep things tidy. It’s just… Well, my household spells are still a bit shabby. I think I’m going to get frustrated trying to wash the dishes using magic, and will end up just doing it by hand anyway.” Aesop chuckled, the girl atop his chest bouncing softly with the motion. “All in good time,” he said, “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and just like everything else, household spells need to be practiced in order to be perfected. I can help you with that.”
They lay in the girl’s bed, legs entwined, just enjoying the calm summer morning. “What will you be doing, by the way, now that you’ve no classes to teach and school work to grade for the next two months?” She inquired curiously. “Me? Oh, I’ll be staying in your bed every day, teasing you that you have to go to work!” the potions master grinned and promptly received a playful smack to the chest. “No, no. I still have some unfinished things at Hogwarts, not to mention my trunk’s still in my chambers, terribly unpacked, I'm afraid. There’s several teacher meetings during the summer as well. I’ll be brewing potions for the hospital wing throughout the two months so that it’s all stocked up for the following term. I'll be revising the curriculum - though I hardly ever make changes to it - and I also need to tidy up the house a bit. It does get dusty after ten months. However, that all can wait. It can definitely wait for the two free days.”
And so Aesop Sharp and (F/N)(L/N) spent the beautiful July day simply enjoying their freedom and their company. The young woman insisted on preparing their breakfast by hand, and while it was ‘just’ scrambled eggs and some toast, Aesop was certain they were the best scrambled eggs he’d ever eaten, simply because they were prepared by her and he was able to enjoy them in her company alone. 
Afterwards he showed her how to properly clean the dishes with magic, starting with a single teacup. They picked up and cleaned the singular dishes back and forth, until everything was clean. A single flick of Aesop’s wand summoned a towel from a hook, which promptly began drying the dishes clean. Another flick, and the dry ones floated to their respective spaces and stored themselves. With a smile, he observed his young lover’s awed expression. “No worries,” he promised, “you’ll have perfected it before the year is done.”
They decided to go for a little stroll along the banks of the Black lake later, talking softly, basking in the sunlight. Aesop, whose entire wardrobe was still at Hogwarts, chose to only wear his trousers, shirt and waistcoat, opting to leave his jacket and overcoat behind, as it was entirely too warm to wear them. He still applied a little cooling charm on all articles of his clothing for comfort. When his sweetheart got dressed, he realised that it really had not been often he saw her out of her uniform or her adventuring ensembles. He certainly couldn’t wait to remedy that, he thought, as he observed the dress she chose for their outing. It was light, sleek and simple, and it complimented all of her curves perfectly. She saw him staring and actually twirled for him with a wink. Little minx.
Aesop offered his arm to her, and his heart squeezed tightly at the display of emotion he saw in her eyes when she immediately accepted it. They walked all the way to the spot she brought him during their late night hippogriff flight. “You know, back then I had to use all of my energy not to just turn my head and kiss you,” (F/N) laughed quietly, a small blush on her cheeks. Aesop grinned and looked towards the dark, murky water, remembering that spring night. He could almost see the memory in front of his eyes. His sweetheart skipping stones at the shore, him standing behind her, longing.
A shuffle next to him brought him out of his thoughts. The young woman was currently pulling off her summer dress, baring the skin of her legs. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes as big as saucers. Normally, her taking off her clothes would get nothing but positive feedback from him, however, seeing as they were out in the open, in broad daylight, he very much doubted the woman had some tender fun on her mind right now. She grinned at him giddily as she finally managed to escape the fabric and folded it haphazardly. She disposed of it on the same boulder he leaned against over a year ago, her shoes already sitting on it, and, with a wink, began running towards the water, in nothing but her chemise and drawers. 
“No way…” the potions master shook his head, even as the corners of his mouth began twitching. And then, with a single tiny squeal, (F/N) threw herself head first into the Black lake. He was smiling fully now, finding her youthful playfulness and unadulterated joy incredibly endearing. He walked closer to the water’s edge. His sweetheart emerged a second later, drenched from head to toe, grinning wildly. She was slightly flushed from the cold, but otherwise looked in utmost bliss.
“I hope you don’t expect me to jump in after you,” he said wryly, crossing his arms over his chest. The woman laughed with all the meriness of a child. She swam closer to the shore for a bit, so that she could stand while she pushed her wet hair out of her face: “Honestly, I was rather hoping you would, but I’m not going to force you. Although I’m telling you, you’re missing out!” And with that, she leaned back and began idly floating on her back. 
Aesop looked at her form. The white chemise was clinging to her body, her skin showing through the wet material. Dropping the cooling charm he put on his clothes, he noticed just how hot the day turned. Suddenly the water seemed all the more appealing. He admired the curves of his lover’s body, his hands already itching to trace them as he unconsciously pulled at his own clothes. He knew she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, actually saw her roll her eyes a little as he conjured a small leather holster for his wand and tied it around his bony ankle and shin. 
She rolled around to look at him fully when he took a step after step towards the water. Despite the hot weather, the water was cold, and it nipped at his skin, but Aesop didn’t let that stop him. Another step. The water was now at his calves, then knees, and getting higher. He winced slightly when he was half submerged, baling his hands into fists as he battled the cold. But then he saw her little smirk, the challenge still shining in her eyes. With a huff, Aesop dived under the water. The sudden shock his body experienced was quickly overcome when he saw his sweetheart’s legs underwater, kicking slowly to keep her afloat. 
He grabbed her just above her knees and rose above the surface. He faintly heard her little squeal before a pair of arms wrapped around his neck and her playful eyes connected with his own. Her legs found purchase around his waist and he released them in favour of curling his own arms around her waist. He stared triumphantly into her eyes for a moment, before chasing her lips in a very wet and a little cold kiss, prompting a happy humming sound from his beloved.
Aesop was done with missing out.
It was late afternoon when they returned to (F/N)'s new abode. They spent the better part of the day by the water, swimming, playing, and simply relaxing. While his sweetheart busied herself with conjuring up a blanket for them to sit on on the bank, Aesop cast just a few protective wards around them, so that they could enjoy themselves in solitude and safety. He couldn't even remember the last time he's had a day like this. They swam, they rested on the blanket, they swam some more. It was so simple, and yet Aesop's heart was fluttering with absolute contentment. Once they dried themselves, got dressed, vanished the blanket and dropped the wards, they simply apparated back to the little house. The potions master prepared a dinner for them with magic, since they were both starving by the time they arrived.
His sweetheart watched in amazement as some of the various food items she brought over to her new home the previous day floated about, cut themselves up perfectly and arranged themselves around a small baking dish. Chicken legs with roasted vegetables it was. Within just a few seconds, their food was ready, looking amazing and smelling even better. They ate their fill in a comfortable silence until: "You know, this is spectacular, and I'd surely like to learn how to do it," she said quietly, "however, I actually quite enjoy cooking by hand." Aesop chuckled, piercing a baked potato onto his fork: "So do I. Many people do, this is just quick and convenient. And while it tastes alright, you'd be moaning at the taste was I to prepare it by hand," he spoke confidently. His young lover giggled into her food: "You can still make me moan tonight, if you want to."
Aesop very much wanted to.
Later, as they were coming down from their highs, snuggled perfectly in each other's arms, the professor took some time to reflect. He really could not remember the last time he had such an amazing birthday… he tended to even forget he had one, not having celebrated it since that fateful day twelve years ago. But today, despite his sweetheart not knowing that on this day, 45 years ago, Aesop Theodore Sharp took his first breath, she very much made him feel like the birthday boy.
He cuddled up even closer to her, his strong arms squeezing her frame, still hot from their previous activity. His lips found hers in a deep kiss and afterwards, the professor rested his forehead against her own, breathing the same air as her. "I want to thank you…" he said quietly, only for her ears to hear, "this was the best birthday I've had in years."
He could feel her body tensing immediately. "Today's your birthday?" she asked, raising her head to look at him. Her beautiful eyes were wide and filled with panic: "Why didn't you tell me? I don't- I don't even have a present for you." He quickly pulled her up for a kiss, stroking her back in a calming matter. "I haven't celebrated my birthday for a long time... And as for a present - why, you already gave it to me!" His sweetheart fixed him with a curious gaze and Aesop sighed: "To be able to hold you, kiss you, love you… this entire day was the greatest gift I could've asked for. To have your heart in my hands, that is the most precious thing I've ever been given." 
The young woman sighed as well, and wrapped her delicate arms around him, nuzzling into his neck momentarily before raising her head up again, a brilliant smile on her face, a smile of love, devotion and incredible joy: "Still, we should celebrate. You deserve a day to be spoiled rotten!" 
"You are already spoiling me rotten!"
"Hah, I try to, but we should still celebrate. Let me take you to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow for a meal. We can have a good bite, champagne, who knows, perhaps Sirona will be able to get us a cake!"
Aesop chuckled, his cheeks warming up somewhat. It was strange - the idea of actually celebrating his birthday after he hadn't done so for so long. However, as strange as it felt, he could already feel the pleasurable tickling of anticipation. "Alright…" he breathed then, "if you want to. But know that I would've been happy enough to just spend the day in your company." 
His sweetheart fixed him with an intense gaze, her eyes sincere: "I want to. Because I finally can. We spent so much time sneaking around, I long to finally be able to show how I feel openly. I want to grab your hand in mine when we walk together, I yearn to be able to kiss and hold you whenever I wish. And I really want to celebrate that on this day, the most incredible man was born. I don't know what I'd do without you here. Perhaps I wouldn't be here myself, if you hadn't gone to the Astronomy tower that day. You are an exceptionally beautiful existence, Aesop Sharp, and your birthday should be celebrated."
The potions master swallowed heavily, willing away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes. Her confession shook him to his core, and, in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to hold her in his arms. Aesop truly did not think he'd ever celebrate his birthday again. Since Ashley's death, he really thought that he wasn't entitled to do so. But perhaps his sweetheart hadn't been entirely wrong. Perhaps him saving her life tipped the scales a little. If Ashley could see him now… well, she'd probably smack his shoulder very hard and tell him to pull his head out of his arse and seize the chance he's been given, like a proper Slytherin would. In that moment, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, and his breathing slowly evened out.
"Alright, my sweet," he said only, as her face once more nuzzled into his shoulder, more than content to stay there. Aesop breathed out slowly, his arms wrapping around the young woman's body in a protective manner.
The room was dark and Aesop could hear sounds of the village outside falling asleep. He could hear faint music coming from the Three Broomsticks, and he heard silent voices caught in a conversations, as their owners passed by the little house. The air smelled sweet with the sun having warmed it the entire day. Aesop closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of love, of comfort.
The next day, his sweetheart did exactly as she promised. She walked with him into the Three Broomsticks, hand in hand, looking proud and happy. She kissed him out in the open, before they even opened the door to the pub, absolutely uncaring to whoever saw them. The look she gave him afterwards… Aesop realised that she did want to do that for some time. That the fact that she was his own filled her with pride. That the young woman, who defeated a troll during the first week of her studies, willingly gave her heart to one ex-Auror potions professor. In a moment of giddy madness, Aesop grabbed her around the waist, dipped her ever so slightly, and snogged the living daylights out of her.
"Are you quite done? Your stew's getting cold," came the voice of Sirona Ryan, who was leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous look in her eyes. Aesop fixed his sweetheart with a curious look. 
"I may have written to professor Hecat to ask what's your favourite food when you were still sleeping," she admitted with a shy smile, "and I also may have written to Sirona, asking her to prepare it for you, as well as get us a cake afterwards." Sirona watched the scene unfold before her eyes, a big smile on her face: "Happy birthday, Professor Sharp." "Thank you, Sirona." 
It truly seemed his life was to be filled with strong-willed and strong-minded women. He was quite the lucky man.
July 1st 1908 
It was morning in the Sharp household and a summer breeze gently blew through the open window of Mr and Mrs Sharp's bedroom. The gentle sound of birds chirping could be heard but didn't wake the occupants of the bedroom, currently soundly asleep in each other's arms. A sound did manage to rouse Mrs Sharp though. The pitter patter of little feet and the creaking of floorboards. 
Someone was awake. Actually, judging by the sound of it, more than one of the children was on the move. She knew the children had been looking forward to surprising their father with breakfast in bed for his birthday, but she hadn't managed to piece together much more than that. She didn't know what they were planning to prepare, and thought it would probably be best if she made her way downstairs to assist or, at the very least, supervise.
As gently as she could, she tried to extricate herself from her husband's grip without waking him up. It was still early and she wanted to let him sleep for a little bit. Aesop had other plans though, having been woken by his wife's feeble attempt at leaving their shared bed. 
"Where do you think you're going, darling?"
He pulled her towards him and held her close, her back completely flush against his front. She could feel his morning arousal as he kissed her neck. 
"You weren't just going to leave me to wake up by myself, today of all days."
He continued gently nipping at her neck, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on her skin. With a sigh, she melted into his embrace and he took the opportunity to gently turn her on her back, moving his hands along her body and moving his kisses to her collarbones, her body semi-trapped underneath his large frame.
It had taken some number of years, but eventually (F/N) had managed to convince her husband that his birthday was a day that deserved to be celebrated, and he eventually got to enjoy being the center of attention for just this one day a year. Perhaps a little too much at times! It seemed as though he was already quite eager to unwrap his birthday present from her.
This morning, though, as much as she enjoyed the way his kisses and touch were slowly lighting her body on fire, as much as she wanted to give in and give him what he wanted, what they both wanted, she knew she needed to make her way downstairs, before their children would have the chance to set fire to the kitchen. However the feeling of her husband's very experienced hands making their way towards her more sensitive areas, the knowledge that his mouth would soon follow, was enough to make her momentarily forget about the possible disaster that she would find downstairs should she choose to indulge her husband.
"Aesop I-"
"Hmmm"
Aesop knew what he was doing. He trailed kisses down her abdomen and she knew then and there that she had lost the battle. She'd deal with the chaos later. Right now there was only one person that existed in the world and that person was about to…
CLANG!
The loud sound coming from the kitchen put an instant end to the couple's morning's activities, their arousal instantly replaced with concern. Concern for the structural integrity of their home, as well as the safety of its occupants. Aesop begrudgingly made his way back up to the head of the bed.
"I should go investigate that."
"Probably a good idea. Let's go see what the rascals are up to now."
"YOU are going to stay right here, sir, and act surprised when the children bring you whatever it is they planned on making you for your birthday breakfast. I will go downstairs and make sure we still have a house by the time they're done."
Aesop gave her a mock pout as his wife quickly got herself dressed for the morning.
"Don't worry, love. I'll make sure you get to unwrap your birthday present… after the rascals are in bed."
One quick kiss from his wife before she swiftly left the room and quietly closed the door.
Aesop heard his older son speak right outside the bedroom door, he had probably been on the way to ask for his mother's help with whatever it was the children had planned.
"Is he still asleep, Mum?"
His wife whispered
"Still sound asleep, dear."
"Brilliant!"
"Shhhhhh"
Eleazar lowered his voice
"Right. Quiet"
"Let's get downstairs"
Down they went and Aesop was left with his thoughts. He could hear the faint buzzing of his family in the kitchen, his wife no doubt deferring to their children's plans for his breakfast and letting them do as much as they were able to manage on their own. He remembered his birthday breakfast in bed from the previous year with fondness. A half burnt over-salted omelet along with biscuits (slightly undercooked), tea (weak) and a bowl of strawberries he ended up having to surrender to his 3 year old twins. It had been quite unpalatable, but seeing the pride in his children's eyes when they had told him they had cooked everything themselves had made the meal the best birthday breakfast he had ever had. He knew the children would outdo themselves this year.
He had been a father for a whole decade by now, but sometimes he still couldn't believe that the rambunctious bunch that was currently being supervised by his darling wife, those four bundles of joy and chaos, were his. That this was his life now. He had known as a young man that he wanted children and had given up on this dream at one point of his life. He had never expected though, that he could love these four little people as much as he did.
He was pulled out of his reverie by the smell of bacon. Wonderful, he thought, one can only mess up bacon so much! He knew his family would enter the bedroom any minute now to “wake him up” so Aesop laid down on his side of the bed, turned away from the door and closed his eyes. He heard the door creak open.
“He’s still sleeping”
“Shhhhh”
“Wait, no we need to wake him up!”
“I can do it!”
“Alright dear but be gentle”
“Okay Mum”
“Thedodore don’t jump on-”
Aesop felt the bed dip and braced himself for what he was sure was an incoming tackle from a rambunctious four year old.
“Hmphhh”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!”
“My birthday isn’t until next week Theodore”
The boy stood up and looked at his mother in confusion
“He’s just pulling your leg, dear”
“That’s right, I’m just” Aesop physically tugged at his son’s legs, causing him to land flat on his back on the soft bed and dissolve in a fit of giggles “messing with you!”
The former professor looked at his family. Everyone was still in their pajamas, some of his children's clothes bearing the proof of their efforts in making his breakfast, little spots of dried batter the most evident. Both his daughters' hair were still in the braids he had woven the previous evening, now with stray strands sticking out in odd directions from their slumber. Theodore obviously hadn't brushed his hair yet, while Eleazar looked as put together as he usually did, wearing a light dressing gown and bearing the least bits of Aesop's breakfast on his clothes. He caught his wife's eyes - they were shining with pride. She was, of course, completely clean, her silky dressing gown as pristine as it had been before she left the bedroom. 
Four pairs of his own brown eyes stared up at him with excitement and anticipation, and Aesop felt his heart swell when he saw the perfect mix of himself and his wife in each of their beautiful children.
Maggie approached her father with a tray.
“We made you breakfast in bed!”
Aesop took a look at the tray from his daughter and from what he could see, the children HAD outdone themselves. He was right about the bacon, there were also scrambled eggs, pancakes, a lovely fruit salad, a cup of tea, and a small bowl filled with chocolate chips. 
“I cooked the eggs and the bacon and I tried to flip the first pancake, but it didn’t turn out nice, so we tossed it, then Mum helped me make the second one but the one on top I did all by myself!”
“That’s wonderful Maggs.”
“And (F/N) and Theo were in charge of mixing the fruit salad and filling the chocolate chips.” 
“That salad looks expertly mixed, thank you. Eleazar, what did you do to help?”
“I measured out everything for the pancake batter AND I brewed the tea. I even used the scales like you taught me!” 
Eleazar spoke with great pride. Last year his father had started to teach him the basics of potionmaking and the lad had taken to the craft like a fish to water. Aesop took a sip of his tea.
“That’s some very good tea, Thank you Eleazar”
The boy beamed.
The twins each sat on one side of him and Aesop made sure to grab himself a handful of chocolate chips before the inevitable happened and he’d have to surrender the sweets to his youngest children. 
“Alright, everyone, let’s let Dad eat his breakfast in peace now. Then we can all have fun. Shop’s closed today so we get to keep Dad all to ourselves for the day.”
(F/N) herded the children out of the bedroom and handed Aesop what was left of his little bowl of sweets. 
“Enjoy your food, darling, I’ll get the little ones dressed then we can do whatever it is you’d like.”
She gave him a kiss before leaving the room. Aesop was pleased to find out that everything had been seasoned well this year, most likely due to Eleazar’s precise measurement of ingredients. Once his breakfast had been eaten, Aesop got dressed and did his morning hygiene before joining his family downstairs, empty tray in hand. The weather seemed nice, perhaps they could go to the beach for a picnic and a swim.
The potions master walked into the kitchen, which actually bore less signs of the breakfast preparation than his children's clothes did. No doubt his wife's prompt work with a wand. His eyes were caught by the sight of many moving photographs displayed on a shelf. Aesop stopped for a moment, looking at the pictures fondly. The photo with Ashley taken 28 years ago on this very day was proudly standing among other happy photos. There was a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day, grinning at each other,  both looking incredible as well as incredibly in love. His sweetheart still looked at him this way, even 12 years after that beautiful June day, and he knew he did as well. There were the newer pictures, his children at various ages, from mere babies and toddlers, to a very recent photo of Maggie holding a very fluffy Puffskein. And then, there were some older ones, too. A moving photo of young Aesop, taken the day he got into the Auror program, looking proud and confident, as well as a single completely still photo of his dear wife, taken by a Muggle camera.
Aesop deposited the tray into the sink and with a flick of his wand, the dishes got to cleaning themselves. His wife walked towards him and put her arms around his abdomen, pressing herself against his back.
“You’re not supposed to be doing any dishes today.”
“It’s nothing, besides you already have your hands full with the children.”
“They can take care of themselves… mostly.”
Aesop turned around to face his wife. They had circled the sun many times together but she still looked as young and beautiful as the day he married her.
“I was thinking I’d like to take everyone to the coast for lunch, let the children play in the water.”
“Only the children?”
“I suppose we could also go for a dip, for old time’s sake.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
He leaned in and captured her lips in a quick kiss, before being interrupted by Maggie and Eleazar. 
"Dad, how old are you turning?" Aesop decided not to volunteer that information. The former teacher in him made him want to make his children work for the answer.
"Well let's see. I was born in the year 1848 and this is the year 1908."
The children to looked at their mother "Don't look at me, you know how to subtract."
The two eldest rushed to find the nearest quill and parchment and got to work, eager to get an answer to their burning question. 
Aesop let out a sigh. He was hitting a milestone today. "Oh come on, dear. If it makes you feel any better you don't look a day over fifty."
Aesop chuckled and pulled his wife close. "Thank you. It's strange, though. I don't feel old. Merlin knows I feel better now than I did for most of my thirties. My life significantly improved in my forties"
“I wonder what happened then”
“I met this incredible woman, you see, got to know her, fell in love with her, somehow she decided she’d entrust her heart to me. Sometimes I still don’t understand what she saw in an old cripple but - don’t give me that look, that’s what I was at the time - in any case, loving her was what turned my life around for the better. And now we have these incredible-”
“SIXTY!”
Both parents chuckled. “Well done, you two.” “That’s… six times as old as I am!” “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that Magdala Dinah Sharp”
Later that day, the family of six found themselves at the beach, all four children playing in the water, both older siblings keeping an eye on the younger children whose swimwear had been enchanted to keep them afloat. Aesop and (F/N) sat on a blanket basking in the sunlight and taking in the scene.
The gentle rocking of waves filled the air around with a soft fizzing sound, broken by the cries of seagulls. Aesop could hear other birds singing from somewhere behind them in the trees. The sounds of nature combined with the giddy squeals and chattering of his children was like a symphony of absolute peace in Aesop's ears. He looked at his beloved, and saw her eyes reflecting the same utter contentment that was held in his own.
A thought crossed Aesop's mind and with a mischievous smile, he whispered in his wife’s ear “I’ll bet you a kiss I can beat you to the water”
She looked at him, her smile matching his own “Hmm I don't know… I wouldn't want to make you look bad on your birthday” she teased, but standing up as to indicate she accepted his challenge "We'll see about that…" the potions master teased back
The children watched with amusement as both their parents suddenly broke into a full blown sprint towards the sea when suddenly a faint “pop” was heard and Aesop disappeared, immediately appearing in the water, a few meters behind the children.
“You cheat!”
“We never said apparition wasn’t allowed” Aesop swam over to the children who were all giggling. (F/N) finished making her way towards the water before taking a few steps in. Once she was able to, she dove in and swam over to meet the rest of the family.
“I’ll be claiming that kiss now”
“You cheated. I think that kiss is mine to claim”
“As you wish”
Aesop made his way over to his wife, gently kissed her lips before moving around her and wrapping his arms around her waist, both of them watching the children resume their play, Eleazar and Maggie having apparently decided on a little swimming race of their own as the twins tried to keep up.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
“For today. For every day we get to spend together.”
A few days from then, Aesop and (F/N) would celebrate his birthday once more, sans children, in a private room at the Three Broomsticks surrounded by their close friends. Today, though, Aesop couldn’t imagine spending the day in better company. 
Years had passed since the incident that took his partner’s life and nearly took his own. Years had passed since the simple task of making it through the day appeared monumental. Years had passed since he had made the decision that another circle around the sun wasn’t something to celebrate but rather something to feel guilt over. Today however, he felt nothing but gratitude for those who had pulled him out of the abyss where he once dwelled, who had patiently walked beside him, and who had lifted him higher than he ever thought possible, so high, in fact, he swore he could touch the stars.
Fin.
@aesopsharpmybeloved: I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read this story, and I'd especially like to thank @tea-withjamandbread who wrote with me. Being able to read the wonderful words she used and build this story (that I frankly love and will re-read many times myself) has meant so much to me and brought me a lot of joy. To everything we'll yet create together! &lt;3 -Tess
This story is also be available on AO3. We'll be very grateful for any feedback!
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astraveil · 3 months ago
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man this fishing stuff is getting intense
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astraveil · 1 year ago
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Astra can, sometimes, handle a storm or two. On rare occasions, it makes her feel as helpless as the day she left the Steppe. Memories come back of fire dancing across the earth, the taste of ash and smoke lingering on her tongue, and that acute feeling in the back of her mind reminds her of why she traveled in the first place.
She stays inside, those days, surrounding herself with people she cherishes now that she has them.
The powers been out and back several times since yesterday (thank you Texas power grid) due to the thunderstorms sweeping through the area, so I'm curious:
How does your WoL/OC feel about storms and scary weather?
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andoryuanzuru · 11 days ago
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Zinogre Astra~
Happy Halloween, look out for monsters~
[TWITTER][COMMISSION][KO-FI][PATREON][PORTFOLIO]
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illarian-rambling · 4 months ago
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Thanks for the tag @davycoquette!
Writer Questionaire
1. Is writing a hobby or way of life?
I mean, it's my greatest passion, but it's not what I do or plan on doing for a living in the future, so I'll go with hobby. To be honest, I'm fine with that. I think I'd enjoy writing a lot less if I was doing it professionally.
2. A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript?
Sorry guys, clean manuscript. I do a barebones outline to start, then just write the thing top to bottom. I know first drafts aren't supposed to be pretty, but I can't help myself.
3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?
That's a tough one. I read a lot, so maybe Sanderson or Tolkien, but honestly, the person who inspired me to take writing more seriously is a guy from my weekly dnd group. He was the first person I met in real life who wrote and had published stuff. He proved to me that regular people can be authors too.
4. Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing?
Listening to me since, easily. I can't sing, but I'm fine with that. I'm not emotionally invested in my singing ability like I am with my writing ability.
5. Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective?
Maybe a little? I feel like a lot of my characters are based on different parts of my own psyche, so really I'm just leaning into those. Because of that, writing about them has made me more accepting of different parts of my own identity.
6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?
I'm only on Tumblr at the moment. I don't intend to put my writing anywhere else because I feel like sites like AO3 aren't really made for original fiction.
7. AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it?
Not on AO3, but I just did the math and between three Honor's Outcasts books and two and a half Mortal God books, I'm at 644,000 words. Add up all the miscellaneous short stories I have floating around and I'd put myself at an even 650,000. Not bad!
8. What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably?
The Name of the Wind was the first book that really showed me what could be done with prose. I don't care that the third book is never coming out, Kingkiller Chronicles will always have my heart <3
The Foundryside Trilogy is an underrated series that basically inspired Mortal God. It weaves fantasy and sci-fi perfectly, has some of the best villains I've ever read, and the ending still makes me sick to think about. Which is a compliment.
And, of course, the Stormlight Archives massively inspired my worldbuilding. I always strive for the layer of depth and strength of character found in those books.
9. What’s the highest compliment you’ve ever been given, and have you been given it?
The best comment I've ever gotten isn't exactly a compliment. One of my beta readers once commented on a weak metaphor, "You can do better, you started with a symphony." That really stuck with me for some reason. It reminds me that I do have the capability to write beautifully, and that I shouldn't settle for anything less.
10. What defines your writing style?
I've been told my narration is very conversational, cut through with fanciful descriptions. I've also been told the voice of whichever character I'm writing from the POV of tends to slip through into my writing style. Descriptions in Sepo's chapters are darker and more grim, the narration of Ivander’s chapters gets more sarcastic, Twenari’s chapters focus more on the smaller details, the voice of Astra’s chapters has some more of that country flair, and so on and so forth.
I'll tag @fantasy-things-and-such @wyked-ao3 @rotting-moon-writes @finchwrites and anyone else who wants in :)
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redrawthecolorlessworld · 7 months ago
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Long As Shit Age Range Masterpost Or Whatever I Should Call This (Rhymix Edition)
good god. i'll probs update this everytime there's a new character i guess. all under the cut. just be warned that there's. a lot of characters who are in their 20s. yuh.
———
• Literal child (probs around 6-10 years old):
- RGB (9 y/o)
- Mope Mope (6 y/o)
• Teenager but not quite there yet (11-14):
- Ana (14 y/o)
- Ether Strike (14 y/o)
- Axium Crisis (14 y/o)
- Miaya (14 y/o...or is she?)
- Ether Second (14 y/o)
- Random (12 y/o)
• Teenager- for real this time! (15-17):
- Felicia (16 y/o)
- Dahlia (16 y/o)
- Pamolia (17 y/o)
- Miracle (17 y/o)
- Mayoeru (17 y/o)
- Dawn (16 y/o)
- Raven (16 y/o)
- Temptation (15 y/o)
- Lorn (15 y/o)
- Lady (15 y/o)
- Ray (15 y/o)
- Aria (15 y/o)
- World Fragments III (17 y/o)
- Lea (17 y/o)
- Inverted World (17 y/o)
�� Oh, they just turned into adults! Yippee! (18-20):
- Abstruse Dilemma (20 y/o)
- Risa (20 y/o)
- Amekagura (20 y/o)
- Galactic (20 y/o)
- Spinel (20 y/o)
- Clarith (19 y/o)
- Chase (19 y/o)
- Arcahv (20 y/o)
- Yamero (20 y/o)
- Spasmodic (20 y/o)
- Kumo (19 y/o)
- Satellite (19 y/o)
- Terabyte (19 y/o)
- Crave Wave (19 y/o)
- Particle Arts (18 y/o)
• Oh, they're in their 20s, that's nice (21-30):
- Logos (22 y/o)
- Ego Eimi (25 y/o)
- Technicolour (24 y/o)
- Arghena (22 y/o)
- Tempo (26 y/o)
- Trojan (26 y/o)
- Pupa (27 y/o)
- Arta (23 y/o)
- Aegleseeker (21 y/o)
- Chariot (21 y/o)
- Dynikitos (26 y/o)
- Felis (27 y/o)
- Lightning Screw (23 y/o)
- Glory Road (22 y/o)
- Overdose (21 y/o)
- Equlibrium (22 y/o)
- Ringed Genesis (28 y/o) (could he be older than that, though?)
- Retribution (26 y/o)
- Destonio (24 y/o)
- Nameless Passion (25 y/o)
- Opia (28 y/o)
- Snow (21 y/o)
- Upshift (24 y/o)
- Lumine (24 y/o)
- Stasis (23 y/o)
- Ars (25 y/o)
- Lucas (25 y/o)
- DRG (22 y/o)
- Alxaid (21 y/o)
- Ionostream (24 y/o)
- Aleph-0 (27 y/o)
- Mantis (27 y/o)
- Astra Walkthrough (23 y/o)
- Chronicle (25 y/o)
- Hikaru (23 y/o)
- Hivemind (22 y/o)
- Cybernetic Vampire (23 y/o)
- Chronomia (24 y/o)
- Perfect (23 y/o)
- Colorless (24 y/o)
- Trap Crow (28 y/o)
- D3D3D3 (21 y/o)
- Ling Hao Cheliang (23 y/o)
• Woah, 30s?! Insane! (31-35):
- Hivemind Interlinked (31 y/o)
- Credits (32 y/o)
- Nhelv (32 y/o)
• At this rate their ages don't matter anymore (Literally all of the Gods except for Hikaru and Destonio) (And also Felys, Tempestissimo, Callima Karma, Tsunagite, Destr0yer, Suito, and Convergence I guess):
- Amazing Mighty
- Testify/Eternity
- Fate
- World Ender
- Ad Astra
- Moonlight
- TeraVolt
- Pandora Paradox
- Tsunagite (...sort of?)
- Tempestissimo/Momento
- Felys
- Callima Karma
- Transient Space
- Conflict
- Destr0yer
- Suito
- World Vanquisher
• Pretty much ageless (Usually because they're not even human to begin with):
- Convergence
- Shifta
- Ultradiaxon-N3
- Unknown Levels (though can easily be someone in his 20s)
- Primeval Texture (though can easily be someone in her 20s)
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astraveil · 1 year ago
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Astra learned how to cook from her father since she was 5 years old, so her skills are well-honed from a decade of practice. While on her travels, she collected recipes from all the places she’d visited and lived in since she left the Steppe (mostly scrawled on scraps of paper), so she’s got a pretty good handle on how to cook even if she never properly joined the Culinarian’s Guild, although she has considered it.
Her favorite foods to make are all from home, mainly Warrior’s Stew and buuz. They’re comforting dishes for her and perfect for if she’s feeling down in the dumps. It helps that she loves cooking for others as well, the Scions and G’raha especially, so she vowed to improve her skills even further for their sakes.
11/21/23
How good is your wol(oc) at cooking? what is their favorite thing to make?
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astrainc · 2 years ago
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youtube
【Astra Inclinant】End of Act 1 REDUX
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astradyke · 7 months ago
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💙 cheers, dear 📺
mare (or astra is fine) • they/she/he • 19 • US • arab • muslim
asexual lesbian who would risk it all for phil lester
i follow from violexides <- my main acct is disinteresting so you can follow ofc but i don't follow folks with my main in mind
identify not as a dyke who could fix the phouse, nor as a dyke who can conduct statistical analysis, but rather as a dyke with "aspirations", including chronicling every time phil lester wears the WAD hat or writing thousands of words analyzing 90 seconds of a texting video. we have fun here.
until death do us part web weave | sister daniela web weave
astra.meta is my tag for long analyses/compilations, a bit of a bastardization of the term but they all slot together (wip)
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
!! im a normal guy engaging w d&p in good faith, they can do whatever they want & be whatever they want & its none of my biz. i am not personally affected by their relationship, i simply hope they r happy & like having a little laugh on tumblr dot com. though they could stand to talk about their freak sex less (<- example of a joke i make)
^ i post 18+ content about dan and phil.
+ d&p are both rich white men that have historically said/perpetuated some microaggressions. i don't discuss this here much, but i implore you to support phannies of color + understand that anything ick they've done does not negate the good; vis versa.
. i try to ID most posts for accessibility, but i do not write alt text. if i miss a post and you would like it ID-ed, please reach out to me. as a general rule, posts made during live-blogging & web weaves are unlikely to have IDs.
` i will reblog my own web weaves and occasionally metas a lot. these are mostly tagged 'srb'. i try not to be annoying with it, but i care a lot about what i create/write and see no shame in recirculating it within reason.
banner // icon
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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