Astoria. 𓆗
@oathofashes
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Sipping tea, reading forbidden books and rewriting the rules of tradition. House of Greengrass and Slytherin. 𓆗
PARODY/Roleplay
Joined December 2024
— • Astoria Greengrass • —
◦ Sacred 28 | Pure Blood | Old Money, Older Magic
◦ Beneath the charm, a mind sharp as a dagger, cunning and clever ◦ Cursed by Secrets that weren’t mine to keep
◦ Betrothed to Draco Malfoy | Let’s see who plays who — • Descriptive HP RP • —
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» it felt as though something irrevocable had already passed, suspended there in the silence we shared.
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» grounding myself in the saddle, in the weight of the leather, in the distance I had chosen. “That is why we do not move.” The horses stood, close enough to feel one another’s warmth, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between us. Neither of us crossed it. And yet, »
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» costs.” For a moment, I let myself feel it fully. The pull. The recognition. The dangerous comfort of being seen without pity or fear. With him, I was not fragile or cursed or fading. I was present. Breathing. Alive in a way that felt almost forbidden. I exhaled slowly, »
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» horse took another half-step, drawn by warmth or instinct or something neither of us could quite name. I drew her back gently, deliberately, setting her where she belonged. Where I belonged. The reins were steady in my hands, even if my pulse was not. “Knowing better is what »
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» arranging myself into something smaller, something safer, when he looked at me as though I were neither fragile nor fading. “Wanting is the easier part.” My gaze traced him once, slow and unhurried, before returning to his eyes. “It asks nothing of us but honesty.” My »
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» I had built my life on knowing better. On restraint. On the quiet discipline of choosing distance even when every part of me strained against it. I did not look away. The wind lifted my hair again, brushing it across my cheek, and I let it fall as it would. I was tired of »
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» and she paused, muscles quivering beneath the saddle. It was not simple for me at all. His words lingered in the space between us, heavier than touch would have been. Knowing has never stopped wanting. The truth of it settled low in my chest, unwelcome and undeniable. »
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My horse shifted beneath me again, restless now, a sidestep that carried her closer before I checked her, fingers tightening on the reins. She felt it as keenly as I did, the pull, the instinct to move when stillness had begun to ache. I murmured softly, not quite a command, »
Astoria’s hand moved, steadying her mount, though he saw the faint tremor at her wrist, the smallest betrayal of pulse beneath composure. It was a beautiful thing, that contradiction. She was always beautiful in resistance, never in surrender. He adjusted his reins with +
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You’ll find me in the garden with my morning tea. Calm mornings. Selective company. If you come looking—mind the thorns.
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