I use tumblr to evict the obsessions living rent free in my head // I hibernate most of the time and when I don't, I draw // Food is a vague concept and coffee is life // Still in acceptance phase that life is chaos
Find me on Ao3: Aedhana
Hello everyone! It's that time of year again to dust off the keyboards, pens, pencils, papers, and drawing pads for the annual Sharpuary 2026! Reblog and tag anyone you think might be interested.
Below is a low-pressure prompt list for every day of February for anyone interested in participating :)
Suggestions: Bring your art, sketches, drabbles, headcanons, epics, and more for Aesop Sharp! There is a prompt available for every day of February, but feel free to participate in as many or as few days as you'd like. Share on your platform of choice, and tag #Sharpuary2026. Have fun, be kind, and Happy New Year!
While my motivation is high and the hyperfixation still around.
Dear Vetvimes frea... community, what do you prefer when it comes to vetvimes drawings/illustration?
Subtle and "entre les lignes"
Ye gods, will you have them do something that would make Drumknott blush!
Civic efficiency, and there is nothing more to it, really.
That goes unoticed, of course. Except by Drumknott whose patience, however admirable, is one of the rare finite resources of Ankh-Morpock that has yet to be taxed.
And by a certain tyrant.
The city is... let's settle for calm. The usual riffraff if you will. The Commander is on his rounds and the usual criminal element knows it too, in the traditional, deterrent sense. After all, it is the 25th of May, a day for lilacs, remembrance, and headaches in roughly equal measure.
Vetinari is not one to chase clues, but observing, that he can.
So when Drumknott receives the quiet instruction to affix a silver brooch to His Lordshipâs coat, he hesitates only briefly. There are times one doesnât question, and times when one really doesnât question.
But Sam Vimes is not exactly the questioning sort. More the interfering sort. On most days, a bauble on Vetinari's coat would have made him raise an eyebrow at most. But on this day?
Not on his watch.
He fishes a sprig of lilac and, without a word, sets about rectifying the situation.
It's quite intricate, pinning lilac blossoms to a lapel without damaging the flowers. Delicate business, that. Did you know?
Vimes didn't. This is not his usual kind of operation. No witnesses. No suspects. No paperwork. And the evidence smells faintly of spring.
Unconventional, really. Just like seeing Vetinari wearing anything other than lilac on such a day.
Absurd, in fact. And Vetinari doesn't do absurd.
And yet here they are. One tyrant, one copper, and one sprig of lilac suspended in a moment that looks suspiciously like a trap.
A copper like him should have seen it coming.
So Vimes looks up. And he realises that perhaps, just perhaps, there are worse things than walking straight into it.
Mmmkay so all y'all who are out there calling Emmrich "Peepaw" and "Gramps" and "GILF" and cracking jokes about breaking his hips, I would just like to point out that every one of these men are all the same age as he is or older.
The cold voice cut through the air and Alienor turned her tired gaze towards the Headmaster, biting back her retort.
âI⊠- donât snap, donât snap â am sorry. â Seeing the way Blackâs eyebrow shot up, she could tell he was as surprised as she was. âItâs just that with the coming Task, I have a bit too much on my mind âŠâ The eyebrow arched a bit higher in a more interrogative way. âWell this isnât exactly the training I should be doing to survive the Task, is it?â she clarified a bit annoyed.
âIs it?â Â The Headmaster repeated flatly. His face remained impassive, but the brief flare of his nostril told her everything she needed to know regarding her ability to choose her words.
As in poorly. Very poorly.
âWhat was it then?â Black insisted. âI think we covered lengthily the importance of intention so what was it this time? Did you forget the instructions?â
There was no correct answer to this question, was it?
In any case, she wasnât sure she would have been able to provide one. For a moment everything had been going smoothly and the next, a thought had arisen, and she had lost her concentration. So technically, she hadnât forgotten the instructionsâŠ
âI just got distracted,â was her weak defence.
Usually, the hint of a sneer that played about the Headmasterâs lips would have ignited her anger or stung her pride. It would have done something, making her double her efforts just to prove him wrong. But this time, her shoulders swiftly dropped, like sails suddenly starved of wind.
âYouâre still wary of your power.â Blackâs voice pierced through the wall of her thoughts, but she didnât raise her head to meet his gaze. What for anyway? There was nothing to challenge. He was right. âBeing distracted is not the issue here. But caging your ancient magic away at every shift of attention wonât get you far.â
But at least, it would prevent any accident.
âMiss Lecomte, look at me.â
From his contemptuous look to his sly smile, she had been prepared for anything.
The softness in his eyes caught her off guard.
In disbelief, she watched him cover the distance separating them until he stood right before her. Slowly, he raised his arm and quietly snapped his fingers which started to glow with a faint light.
Ancient magic.
âAs I explained to you,â he said eventually, barely loud enough for her to hear, âI am not a wielder of ancient magic. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I am merely the schoolâs vessel.â He slightly rotated his hand, and the light grew into a wisp that gently swirled around his fingers as if it was playing with Blackâs gaze. âThe day I accepted this position, it became a part of me.â He tore his eyes off the wisp and waited for Alienorâs eyes to meet his own. âBut you, itâs not only part of you. You are a natural wielder.â
âI know that.â
âWell then, are your distractions so demanding of your attention they make you forget even your own identity?â
âI am not following you,â she said with a light frown. She braced for the coming part as on the list of reasons why Professor Black had never taught, impatience was most certainly on top of it.
In lieu of a snide remark, she got a smile. A genuine, understanding smile that made her question everything she thought she knew about him.
âAncient magic,â he said softly, âis not a part of you. You are ancient magic.â
Last time she checked she was human.
She must have looked as puzzled as she felt for The Headmaster went on before waiting her reaction: âWho are you?â
Which didnât really help.
âDonât tell me,â he quickly added as she was opening her mouth to reply. âI donât want you to talk, I want you to think.â He joined his index and middle finger together and pointed them at her.
âWho â if she didnât back down as he moved his hand closer to her, it was because he must have petrified her⊠right? â
Are â his fingertips were so close to her forehead, she could feel the light warmth emanating from the wisp â
You?â - Â she couldnât remember when she had ordered her head to move and yet, she felt it push into the Headmasterâs touch as if it was acting on its own.
First she felt the lukewarm sensation of his fingertip on her forehead and then, the caress of ancient magic. Black had conjured it and yet, it felt just like the traces she had tracked in her fifth year, or the calm swirls of the repository as she had set it free. Flowing within and around, dizzying. She felt herself falter but, as if he had sensed her discomfort, Black slightly increased he pressure against her forehead, grounding her. As if his magic was holding her steady.
âWas that some sort of punishment Aesop?â Fig asked suddenly.
âDo you genuinely believe me capable of torturing someone just to spite you?â
âIt didnât have to be that gruesome, did it?â
They arrived near the main gate and Sharp stopped, waiting for Fig to face him.
âI have no consideration for those willing to harm innocent lives, no matter the reason,â he said with a soft but stern voice. âIf you want to break the rules, so be it, but youâll have to face the consequences as well. Should your actions bring me face to face with such an individual, and should they choose to withhold information, I am fully prepared to employ the most effective techniques I possess to extract it.â
âPlans, interrogation, individual, techniques to extract information,â Fig listed with a frown. âYou sound just like an Auror.â
Sharp made a step forward.
âI never stopped being an Auror, Eleazar,â he said with a light growl. âAnd I still would be one if it hadnât been for my partnerâs death.â
They were so close to each other that a mere inclination of their head would cause their lips to graze against each other. But this was the very last thing in both their minds. If anyone had caught them in this very moment, they could have thought they were about to fight.
And they wouldnât have been that far from the truth.
âSo, it wasnât punishment,â Fig eventually growled, âbut merely following procedure?â
âProcedure, rules, method, something that wouldnât hurt you to apply!â Sharp shot back.
Fig's gaze turned glacial, and it felt like the already cold temperature had plummeted several degrees. His reply was even colder.
âNo thank you.â
Whatever emotions passed through Sharpâs gaze was immediately consumed by the smouldering embers that had replaced his eyes.
âThen I believe weâre done,â he replied with a rumbling voice.
