#sharpuary2026

[bsustories]

Professor Sharp learns the benefits of teaching older students who already have 10 years of work experience as a tailor on their resume.

Aesop Sharp and my 20 yo protagonist, Esther.

For a fic I'll probably never actually finish much less post. XD

Does this count as Sharpuary if it's not one of the prompts? It just has Sharp in it.

[aesopsharpstuff-voyagerlotus]

SHARPUARY 2026!!

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!

Bravery

Horcrux

Library

Forbidden

Possession

Intimate

Howler

Cloak

Mistletoe

New Year

Addict

Diagon Alley

Vulnerable

Gender-swap

Heartbeat

Beedle the Bard

Public Speaking

Combat

Mentorship

Thestral

Starstruck

Empathy

Mirage

Azkaban

Felix Felicis

Revelio

Revenge

Spectacle

@mrs-sharp @ladyelizabethraven @aesopsharpmybeloved @coolmiaw @julietpricee

Feel free to reblog and tag more people!!

[myveryownfanfiction]

Sharpuary day 6: Intimate

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @illiana-mystery, @mikey-darinstar, @abaddon-queenof-hell

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

AN: Sorry im late. things got hectic. Here I am now though.

Aesop panted as his hips thrust up into me. My fingers curled into his chest hair as I moaned. His fingers dug into my thighs, sure to leave bruises in their wake. My head hung forward as I let out a strangled cry, orgasm washing over me. Aesop's breath hitched as he followed me over the edge. I slowed, legs bracketing his hips.

"Damn." He breathed, hands running over my rapidly cooling skin. "You really didn't hold back." I laughed as I let myself fall forward. Aesop cradled me close as he gently slipped out of me.

"Did you really expect me to?" I asked. Aesop chuckled as he stroked my back. "How's your leg?" I propped my chin on his chest and watched his expression.

"I'm fine. I took the potion before just to be sure." He assured me, smiling softly at my concerned expression. His hand came up to run his thumb over the frown in my brow. "You know I never expected to be this...intimate with anyone...after..." I tilted my head down to press a kiss to his chest.

"Surprise you?" I asked. Aesop nodded. "Good surprise or bad?"

"Good." He assured me. "I'm glad it is you. There is no one else I'd rather be intimate with. Not just in activities of the flesh." Aesop gently pinched my side. I squirmed away from him with a laugh. "Things like this too. Tea over breakfast in front of the fire. Reading books on opposite sides of the couch. Comfortable silence."

"Intimacy." I agreed. Aesop pressed a kiss to my brow.

"Domestic bliss." He mused. "No one I would rather have it with." I tilted my head up to press a kiss to his lips.

"There better not be anyone else you are intimate with." I teased. Aesop chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Honestly." He sighed playfully. "The cheek on you." I glanced back at my bare back and ass.

"They are rather nice aren't they." I joked. Aesop scoffed and pinched my side again. "All joking aside, there isn't anyone else I would rather be with too." Aesop smiled as he kissed me again. "Keep this up and we'll end up being intimate again." I teased as Aesop laughed, rolling his hips to get me to stop.

[slytherinsomniari]

Sharpuary 3: Library

I just found this event and decided to take part, I hope you enjoy my little fic/drabble! :)

Idle sounds of chatter fill the library on a sunny afternoon, students studying while others are merely there as a cover to goof off. If they noticed the professor stalking the rows upon rows of books, they made sure they didn't. What the strict professor did with his free time was up to him, and no one wanted to be reminded of coursework or of their merlin forbid, shortcomings in class.

Professor Sharp wanders down a row of shelves, scanning the titles as he goes. He's searched through almost every book here, but that's not good enough. There has to be a cure somewhere...there just has to be. His blasted leg—a reminder of his failure as an auror—was a stain upon his entire being. He would not like to be considered a cripple for his entire life, nor would he even consider using the damn wheelchair St. Mungo's gave him. It's sheer embarrassment and his pride will not allow himself to appear weak.

He pulls out a folded piece of parchment and looks it over, though he already has it memorized. Granian hair, anjelica, wormwood essence, plangentine, spleenwart. One of these might have the key to healing his leg and he was damn sure he was going to find out. Though before he could continue further into his research, his constant source of trouble slinks by.

"What now Miss Knightley?" A sigh escapes him as the sight of a ginger haired ravenclaw steals his attention. A common occurrence though he had always denied it to himself. The blue bow on the back of her head would appear almost like cat ears had it been placed higher up. There were definitely moments he could picture her with a pair, and a long swishing tail too. Her response snaps him out of his reverie.

"I was just studying, Sir. Nothing more."

A lie, surely. "Why do I feel like you have raided my potions closet...again."

"It's not fair you get to hoard everything you know. I simply happened to liberate a few ingredients for some very important potions."

"Would you just happen to be taking said potions because you are putting yourself in danger?"

"I'll be fine, besides, I know how to take care of myself you know" Eleanor puts her hands on her hips, clearly irritable. With her penchant for exploring, she had already taught herself how to fight—and not just the magical way. Growing up in the muggle world, she had plenty of time to learn how to fight well as well as fight dirty. Everything was fair game in a battle of life and death after all.

"Sure, just like every time you do this." He rolls his eyes. Why does she always have to go out and and endanger herself? The thrill can be dangerous just as it can be rewarding. Sneak attacks and making blatantly open attacks on poacher camps and Rookwood's gang no matter how right she is will be her downfall.

"Just..." his lips twitch, his earlier determination and minor irritation gone. "Be careful. One wrong move and you will surely regret it."

What a complete change from his previous attitude...Pink and shocked, she stutters out a response, "O-of course I will! Hmph! You don't need to tell me that."

Like a cat she elegantly makes her exit...with her hackles up.

Professor Sharp's eyes follow her with an indescribable feeling before they turn away, back to the numerous books. He must find a way to heal himself...and not just for his sake. He disappears into the shelves, more determined than ever to bring this all to an end.

[mrs-sharp]

Sharpuary 1 – Bravery

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78728611

Aesop Sharp despised bravery.

Not because it was a bad trait, but because he had seen it equated with recklessness too often. Because he had seen too many people for whom bravery led to arrogance rather than humility. Because he knew people who believed that bravery alone was enough to survive and who therefore did not think about what they were doing.

And he knew those who had thought about it and still lost their lives. This was his point of view, and he had no doubts about it. At least, he had been convinced of this until Elaine came into his life.

He had seen her fight. Elaine did not fight to prove anything to others or herself. Nor did she fight to teach others a lesson. She did not do it for recognition or praise.

When she fought, she did so to protect. To defend those who couldn't do it themselves and to preserve what really mattered to her. When Elaine fought, she didn't just do it with her body or her magic, she did it with her entire consciousness, with all the passion and desperation she had inside her. Sometimes it wore her down until there was hardly anything left of her, and yet she refused to give up. Witnessing this caused a part of his convictions to crumble each time, until they became unstable, even though he didn't want to admit it.

He had seen her fear.Sometimes it seemed to him that she perceived everything more intensely than others. She loved, she mourned, she doubted, she longed, she always feared a little too much, and at the same time he admired that. It was as if she passed on some of the beautiful and tender feelings to others, while she seemed to take the cruel ones away from their shoulders and minds, so that they could walk more easily. Meanwhile, her own fear was sometimes so intense that Elaine threatened to disappear into it, and yet she always managed to overcome it, to swim free from the flood until she was gliding along on gentle waves again.

He had seen how she was on the verge of giving up and then found the strength to keep going from somewhere. How she sometimes disappeared into herself and he didn't know if she was still there, and then she kept finding a reason not to give up, even though the past had taught her so often that it was hopeless.

Elaine was brave. He couldn't describe it any other way, even if he didn't like it. It would have been foolish to deny it. He caught himself over and over again secretly admiring this very trait in her, a trait he otherwise despised so much. Because she didn't do it for herself, but for others. And although he sometimes wished it were different, that she could accept herself, that she realised that she herself was also a reason not to give up, he was constantly amazed by the strength she possessed. And perhaps it was now up to him to show her that there was someone who was brave for her.

[nodamascus]

Sharpuary Day 6: Intimacy

I’ve missed like most of these but here we are. Touch starved Sharp is touch starved.

…

“And remember your essay on your chosen elixir is due *this Friday,*” he calls out over the din of students hastily packing up their things, stowing their tools and cauldrons in attempts to get out of the dungeons as quickly as possible, before they have to admit they actually heard any of the reminders Sharp was giving them. “And if you haven’t chosen an elixir or had one approved by me yet, I struggle to imagine why you’ve chosen potions for this period at all…”

The last of the seventh years empty through the narrow door into the corridor, including Garreth Weasley (eventually) whom Sharp not so subtly shepherds away while he rambles excitedly about his elixir, how he’s sure the potions master will surely be impressed, it’s much more novel than the rest of the students—just wait until…

The room has cleared. The light bubbling of the stray, leftover draught is the only thing that breaks the abrupt silence of the stone chamber. Late afternoon sunlight filters in through the frosted panes of the great window at the far end of the room, murky from the class, slashing uneven beams along the table and chair sat just in front of it. He can just see the glint of his old badge resting near its edge. He lets out a breath.

“Did we get too out of hand today?”

He turns his head. Ava is walking toward him slowly, casually, satchel slung over her shoulder, lips curled in a half smile.

He frowns. “No more out of hand than any other afternoon.”

“You look a bit more pressed than usual,” she observes, coming closer, tilting her head to study expression on his face. He sighs, covering it with his hand.

“After nearly ten years,” he mumbles, “I feel I have a right to look *pressed,* Miss Fairborne. Especially with you scrutinizing me every chance you have.”

“I’d never.” It’s said softly, kindly. He can still hear the half smile in her voice. In a moment, he feels a pressure along his chest, and he quickly drops his hand from his face.

She’s closer now, much closer, and she’s reached out to straighten the lapels of his coat, palms smoothing over the patterned brocade, lingering as she feels the texture of the faint paisley embossed there.

He can’t move.

His heart is in his throat as she reaches higher, hand brushing the top of his shirt collar as she tugs the lapel straight, even with its neighboring twin, and once again smooths it down, palm lightly slipping from his collarbone to just at the end of his breastbone. He can feel the pressure of her hand through the layers. It’s all he can do to keep himself from leaning into it.

Suddenly, she’s removed her hand, and she’s done, stepping back to admire her work.

“There you go,” she says brightly. “At least you look a bit less like we put you on the rack. Even if you still feel like it.”

He opens his mouth but he can’t speak. The way she’s looking at him now, like she hadn’t just touched him. *Cared* for him. As if it was nothing. As if she had wanted to.

He’s not able to understand it.

She must see the confusion in his face because her smile fades, and again, she reaches out, and rests her palm against his chest, still now.

“You can rest, you know,” she says. “You can let me care.”

He swallows. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Then, as if she’d had to muster the strength to, she steps into him, and lays her head against the back of the hand pressed to his heart. He freezes, arms stiff at his sides.

Her voice is barely above a breath. “I am.”

They stay there, close, for a long time.

[lost-plague]

Day 5! Today's word: possession.

I'm sure people thought of this as either ghostly/imperious possession or the possessive nature of a lover, but i thought of all things, a possession of his. And what better than his cane? I saw another post talking about his room and the cane and wheelchair, and how he took his privacy seriously because of them, not wanting to bother anyone or show how often he relied on them. Certainly he doesn't let anyone see it outside of his room, he takes whatever he can for pain and deals with his day best he can without it. I don't think it's as hard anymore, perhaps for the bad days like anyone with a chronic illness might tell you. Sometimes things come and go.

I imagine, after his injury and the long recovery period, he was taken to find a cane to use for himself or given one by the nurses to use. Despite it being a constant reminder of his failures or arrogance, i think he did come to see it as an extension of himself and was thankful for the relief it brought using it. It's a strong warning though, something to take heed of... Don't let yourself get too reckless again.

If he ever does heal himself, i think he still uses it as a reminder, hanging or sitting quietly in his room. a ghost of his past.

[myveryownfanfiction]

Sharpuary day 7: Howler

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @illiana-mystery, @mikey-darinstar, @abaddon-queenof-hell

warnings: swearing

The red envelope sat on the table in front of me. It had arrived early this morning with the owl post. I had sent it to my office as soon as I had seen it. Aesop had given me a look when he saw it. I flinched when I heard the door open and close behind me.

“Still haven’t opened it?” He asked as he came to stand next to me. I shook my head. “You know it is only going to get worse the longer you wait to open it.” I nodded again.

“I always hated these things.” I muttered. “As a student and even more now as a teacher.”

“Any idea who it could be from?” Aesop asked as he wrapped an arm around me. I shook my head. I sighed as I leaned into him.

“Might as well get this over with.” I waved my wand at the red envelope and braced myself.

“(Y/N)! How could you? Getting married without telling even your best friend?” I stifled a laugh as the voice of poppy sweeting came through. “And to our old potions master?! I love you I really do but as your best friend I have to say what the fuck?!” Aesop laughed as he drew me closer. I could feel my face heat up.

“Who knew sweet ms sweeting had such a mouth on her?” Aesop chuckled, kissing my head. I buried my head in his shoulder.

“I swear to Merlin (Y/N), you better throw a proper reception or else natti, Sebastian, ominis and I are going to storm the castle and force the two of you into the three broomsticks. And we will not keep it down while asking for all the juicy details. Every. Single. One.” I started laughing. Aesop chucked as he pressed his face against my hair.

“Oh Merlin.” I chortled. “Sirona would have a field day.” Aesop chuckled in agreement.

“And I know that sirona would be more than happy to get involved. She undoubtedly has more stories of the two of you since you got married and moved into the castle.” Poppy started laughing. “Tell me. How was the honeymoon? Because I have a bet with Sebastian about where it was. He says the two of never left Scotland. Probably shacked up in one of your many verraiums. I say you did leave Scotland. Probably for some far off land with hundreds of magical creatures. Please tell me I won that bet.” I shook my head as Aesop chuckled.

“Well she isn’t wrong.” Aesop teased. “You did drag me to Arizona to see a thunderbird.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Oh shut up. You enjoyed it as much as I did.” I shot back. Aesop nodded with a smile.

“Anyway. We’re meeting at the three broomsticks tonight. See you two lovebirds tonight.” Poppy finished as the howler tore itself apart. Aesop smiled fondly at me.

“So I take it we’re going?” He asked. I nodded. “Oh I know that look.” He laughed as he watched me prepare the paper.

“Oh of course we’re going. I’m just sending her our rsvp.” I said, smiling over my shoulder at him. “With a little payback.” Aesop laughed as i set about starting my own howler in return.