Real talk - Hogwarts Houses

Listen up folks!
So, we all know about our Hogwarts houses and we also know that it is an unspoken rule that your Hogwarts house is kind of your own very important, very chaotic but also very lovable family.

However, I am slowly but steadily getting sick of hearing:

“Oh, you’re a Slytherin, so you are an evil piece of shit.”

Like, no. Kindly f*ck off. It’s true that once you have pissed me off, I’ll make your life miserable, but that doesn’t mean that I’m evil, at least not per se.

And this does not only go for Slytherins.
It goes for every house.

Gryffindors aren’t reckless.
Hufflepuffs aren’t vulnerable.
Ravenclaws aren’t boring.
Slytherins aren’t evil.

You wanna know how I know? Apart from the obvious evidence given in the books, let’s just take one short look at their freakin’ crests.


Their house animal is a bloody lion!
Yes, it’s true that male lions sometimes fight recklessly. BUT, a lion pride has a strict hierarchy and rules which are to be followed. The young lions are to be protected at all cost and the pride is literally living together. Whether they are hunting or grooming each other or simply lying on the sun together. They protect each other, the pride and their territory.

So, should you ever think that Gryffindors are happy go lucky idiots , than you are most likely fucking wrong. Thank you very much.


Oh boy, don’t even get me started… You think a badger is cute and harmless? Well, yes they are, but still. Have you ever heard of the honey-badger? Probably the most badass living mammal I have ever heard of. That animal eats snakes! Freakin’ snakes!!
It digs out the honey out off a bee hive and gets stung ten to twenty times and simply does not give a shit.

If you still think Hufflepuffs are vulnerable you better get ready to get your ass kicked.


Alright, so, Ravenclaws always read and have a stick up their arse? Well, think again!
Their animal is a motherfudging eagle. That creature is so epic even Americas bald eagle loses its feathers. Have you seen its claws? Because I have and they certainly aren’t just for decoration.

They might have their head in the clouds but from up there they can see all your flaws so shut the fuck up about Ravenclaws being boring.


Yes, you say the snake is an evil demon? Well , you thought wrong, asshat! It’s true that the snake is a sign of the wicked, but it is also known for its wisdom and healing. Snake poison is indeed used for certain antidotes hence the use of the snake as the sign of medicine.
Furthermore , in mythology it is the symbol of eternity and primal energy (Uroborus.)

So yeah, you wanna say that I’m a piece of shit? Okay, maybe so. But that has nothing to do with my Hogwarts house. So leave it.

wildehacked  asked:

Sarah Williams! :)

Sarah just managed to yank her hands out of his ironclad grip, and stumble the handful of steps to the bushes before she was sick. Her arms trembled as she leaned against the stupid, familiar aluminum siding, but it was cool and she was hot, feverish—she pressed her forehead against it, soaking in night-chill.

She couldn’t shut her eyes. She didn’t trust herself to shut them.

“Sarah…?” the Goblin King ventured hesitantly, and she flinched away from the touch of his hand  at her shoulder. Even through the leather, it was—

He withdrew his hand. Sarah turned, to press her cheek to the siding. It was still cool, as cool as gold left in the dark—she breathed out, and she heard the Goblin King echo her, half a beat later.

“You have my thanks,” he said, after a long moment. She turned, just enough to survey him through her lashes, and he looked—uncertain. Even by moonlight. “You need not have come,” the Goblin King says, which is true. “But you did, and I am…grateful. I am in your debt.”

Sarah understood, distantly, how much those words cost him to say. Fairies and goblins and promises to take and debts to settle up, and just thinking about it she was almost sick on the bushes again. “Don’t…” she said, but her voice was swallowed up by the night, and the sound of cicadas, owls. Distant cars. 

“It is the truth.”

“I’m sick of us owing each other.”

The Goblin King scoffed. “You have never owed me anything.“

Sarah turned. In the harsh clear moonlight, the Goblin King looked smaller, reduced by some degree she would not have noticed before. She had saved him. Hoggle and Ludo and Didymus had called, begging her—her, Labyrinth-runner—to come and save the Goblin King. And she saved him, she had; but even now she wanted to run into the house, scrub her arms until they bled. Or at least until she couldn’t remember what he felt like, as a scaly, dripping thing cradled to her breast—a bloody lion with claws in her wrists—or a monstrous wet smoke, heavy as wet cement—or—or—

(Hold me fast and fear me not, and Sarah had a new appreciation for Janet, who must have been made of sterner stuff, or loved Tam Lin better than Sarah did the Goblin King. But Sarah had held on, she’d dug her nails in, and even now she thought she could see a row of silvery half-moon crescents along Jareth’s cheek, where she had drawn blood.)

“I don’t want there to be any debt between us,” she said, and was proud when her voice only wavered slightly. “Can I release you?”

“Not from this. A life owed is….owed, for all a life.”

Sarah and Jareth the Goblin King stood apart from one another, across the span of Sarah’s father’s front yard. She wondered what strange plant would spring up between now and morning, with all that…otherness, strung between her and Jareth. She hoped Dad wouldn’t mind.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, and even she could hear the defeated note in her voice. Jareth did not flinch, but she could see him suppress it.

“Whatever you want,” he said, heavily. She’d never thought of him as heavy before, as taking up space. But here he was, all brocade and shadow, and he must be heavy. If only because he was shackled by her. “I am yours to command.”

“You’ll be my slave?” Sarah laughed, and Jareth was not quick enough to keep himself from flinching at that.

“Servant,” he corrected stiffly. “A debt—”

“I don’t want a servant. Or a slave. I just…I freed you for my friends,” Sarah said. “You owe them, not me.”

Jareth didn’t quite meet her eyes. It was strange to see a six-foot-something creature of glitter and starlight and leaf-green livery bowing to her, cringing in half-obeisance. “If it had been any other, I would not…Such a claiming requires an equal. And I have no power over you.”

Sarah stood perfectly still, not sure what to do.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, and Jareth sneered, even if it was at the grass, or maybe the toes of her shoes. He was having some trouble looking her in the face.

“Whatever you desire. That’s—what a life debt means. I serve you until the end of my life.”

Sarah wondered how far she could push him, if there was an event horizon for this. For all she knew, he was serious, and he would go on granting every wish she spoke aloud until they both died. Until she died. (She suspected he couldn’t die, not really. Dying was for…other, less glamorous things. Not him.)

“And I can’t release you,” she repeated, the question implicit in her voice.

“Not without reason,” Jareth gritted out. His teeth were flat and white now, though Sarah had a sense memory of their being long, and yellowed; awful serpent’s teeth in a mouth that was huge and void—

“Well, all right then,” Sarah Williams said. She looked at the Goblin King, who stood like a tin soldier, waiting to commanded or thrown into the fire. “Do you want pancakes?” she asked, and the Goblin King’s head jerked up. He stared at her, immaculate brows raised.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, turning towards the house. Dad, Karen, and Toby were all asleep, but she could make pancakes quietly. “I want pancakes.”

(He only tried to help twice, and one of those times, it was to put out a fire. Sarah chalked it up to a success.)

goldendecember  asked:

Fic idea/request: Ginsy + “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” I've recently fallen in love with Ginsy (and your writing), so when I saw you were taking fic requests, I couldn't resist requesting a short story about the two of them! <3

Oh, that’s so nice to hear! Hope ya like it!

Prompt #5: “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” (Read it on AO3)

Pansy Parkinson had a problem with Ginny Weasley. Not the kind in which she wanted to sell her out to the Dark Lord (contrary to popular belief, Pansy did not relish in such activities–the incident with Potter last year was a necessary evil). It wasn’t even the kind of problem that made her want to curse the Weaselette. No, this was the kind of problem in which Pansy wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and do naughty things to her in the Room of Requirement. In other words:

“Kill me, Draco,” Pansy said histrionically, swooning across the blond so her head rested in his lap. “I can’t take any more.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Pans, you’re acting like a Hufflepuff.” The potency of the jab was diminished by him running his hand through her hair. She hummed softly at the gesture, peeking through lidded eyes to see if anyone was looking. Thankfully, everyone seemed focused on the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, so her eyes fell shut once more. While it was common practice for Slytherins to be affectionate with one another in private, it was quite another matter to do so in public. Even with their so-called “reformed” status since the war, some rules stayed in place.

“Is she scoring a goal?” Pansy asked, peeking through her eyelids again. A quick glance at the pitch gave her an affirmative. Pansy squealed and buried her head.

“How in Merlin’s name are you rationalizing this behavior?” Draco asked. Pansy knew from his tone that he was making his I-can’t-do-this-right-now face. It made him look like Lucius when he supervised their play dates as children. She didn’t mention this to Draco, however, because comparing him to his father was like asking to be jinxed.

“She looks like a phoenix,” Pansy said. “All that red hair and confidence, and that Slytherin smile she flashes after she throws the Quidditch ball–”

“Quaffle,” Draco interjected lazily.

Keep reading

Tdbm Drabble, The Blake Family Meeting

300 words

Coughing to gain the attention of her chattering dinner companions, Jean looked up. Lucien, Matthew and Alice were engrossed in a discussion about the day’s case. They paid little notice to Jean as she awkwardly played with her tea cup.

“I wanted to address this now since we’re all here.” Lucien whistled quietly and looked to the left.

Jean straighten her back and stuck her chin out with resolve.

She started again. “We are all of a certain age. So it’s understandable that certain things…certain adult things happen…occassionally…at night.”

Staring down at her napkin, Jean wondered if she was going too far. “No! This must be dealt with,” she thought before continuing her speech.

“Yes, adult occurrences between men and women. I love having you both here but, as two couples, I think we should establish a few rules…guide–.:“

“It’s funny you should bring that up, Jean,” Alice interrupted. “I’ve been trying for days to figure out how to broach this subject.”

The group eyed Alice curiously.

“I realize you and Lucien are newlyweds but the amount of noise coming from your bedroom in the evening is a bit distracting. Especially you!” Alice turned to face Lucien squarely.

“There is no reason I should hear your climax through bedroom and sitting room walls,” she continued. “You sound like a bloody lion.”

Jean shrieked in horror, while the men’s reddened and Alice surveyed the group with indignation. The bubble of hysterical laughter that followed started deep in the pit of Jean’s stomach.

Alice looked over in horror. Had she overstepped again? Quietly, she pushed her chair back to leave the room.

“No Alice don’t leave,” screamed Jean. Holding back a laugh she said, “Thank you for being honest. I guess we all have to mind our manners.”


“You’ll regret this.”

“Will I.”

“I’ll make certain of it.”


“I’m going to wear it,” Michael says. “All the time. The one with the ears, even if we’re smiting cities or destroying temples or anything. I’ll be a lion still, even without my mane.”

Of Brushes and Swords by @suntosirius and @drinkbloodlikewine :)

AKA Michael takes really bad to a haircut but honors his threats because revenge is sweet. I doubt Gabriel was overly happy about it. (Bet Uriel was though.)

Relatively Cool

Sirius knows exactly what his role should be in the life of his best friend’s child… nobody seems to agree.

A/N: Inspired by this post by the amazing @asktheboywholived, who is very, very good at making awesomely inspirational stuff!

Enjoy, TT!

“So I get the official status of cool uncle, right?” Sirius said idly as he lounged around in the Potters’ kitchen, trying to get in the way of Lily making dinner whilst simultaneously trying to look like he was trying not to get in the way of Lily making dinner. (Also known as “winding Lily up for sheer entertainment value”.) James wasn’t fooled, and given how pregnant Lily was right now it wasn’t too smart to wind her up, but hey - Sirius could learn the hard way.

“I’m pretty sure that this kid gets to make up its own mind about who the cool uncle is,” Lily replied, retrieving a spoon from Sirius’s fidgeting fingers and giving them a light whack with it for good measure. “And I have my doubts about any child of mine being that entertained by you.”

“Hey, I’m totally going to be the cool uncle!” Sirius protested. “And Moony’s going to be the mooshy one who sits there making baby noises for hours, and Wormtail… actually he’s probably going to either be terrified of breaking the poor kid, or turn out to be some sort of super child-tamer. …Is that a thing? A child-tamer?”

“It’s a baby, Pads, not a bloody lion.” James rolled his eyes. “I think the word you’re looking for is possibly babysitter.”

“I dunno, that sort of sounds like you’re sitting on the baby, which I’m pretty sure is bad for its health.”

“I can think of something worse for your health if you don’t stop nicking the stuff I’m using.” Lily snatched a pair of tongs from Sirius and glared at him in a manner that suggested they were about to be used to rip his nose off. He immediately tried to look very sorry.

“Okay, okay…” He darted a glance at James and added, “I still reckon I’ll be the cool one, though.”


“Where’s my godson?” Sirius sing-songed as he bounced into the house, grinning broadly. It took all of ten seconds to track down Harry, who was in the living room flailing at the mobile dangling over his crib and gurgling in surprise at the noises that ensued.

James, looking thoroughly exhausted, was half-dozing in the nearest armchair, but looked up as his best friend entered and tried to look more alert. “Oh… hey, Pads…”

“Don’t mind me, just came to keep your mini-you entertained. Go back to sleep.” Sirius sat down in front of the crib, beaming, and ignored the incoherent mumble from James.

Harry stopped batting at his toy and fixed the universal bewildered baby stare on his godfather. Sirius beamed and held out a finger for Harry to grab. “How’s my little man?”

“Noisy as hell,” James supplied. “I think this is the first time he’s stopped crying in days.”

Sirius shrugged and allowed Harry to gum his finger. “How could anyone mind with a face this cute?”

“You forget about the cute face when he’s been wailing in your ear non-stop.” James reluctantly dragged himself upright in the chair to watch the proceedings, privately rather relieved that someone else was taking over baby-entertaining duty for a bit.

Sirius smiled blithely and allowed his finger to be chewed for a bit longer before retrieving it and moving the mobile out of the way.

“Hey…” He waggled his fingers as though doing magic the way Muggles sometimes did, then mock-gasped with surprise as he opened his hands to reveal… nothing.

For some reason Harry found this hilarious, and Sirius’s grin nearly reached from ear to ear at the reaction he’d got. “That’s my boy!” He tickled Harry under the chin, causing delighted giggles.

“So much for being the cool uncle,” James muttered, amused at the performance.

“…He can’t tell what’s actually cool yet,” Sirius said defensively. “I make him laugh, that’s close enough.”

“Mm-hm. Keep telling yourself that.”

Sirius made a face at James and went back to coaxing giggles out of Harry. In his defence, it wasn’t very hard.

A bloodied lion fights for his life following a two-hour savaging under the claws of a huge male. This raw photograph shows the terrified juvenile making a final stand as the powerful newcomer lands blow after blow, unrelenting. After suffering a series of deep wounds, it is only with the help of two older females that he is able to limp away from the onslaught. The action was captured on camera by field guide Justin Glanvill at Cheetah Plains Private Game Reserve, in South Africa.
Picture: Justin Glanvill / Barcroft Media


request (cut for length, full imagine: Imagine Regulus trying to talk you but you’re not in the house of snakes and happen to be a bloody lion and he can’t seem to make a move. You finally talk to him in the library because Sirius won’t return your book until you do but it turns out Regulus is more interesting that Hogwarts: a History.)

Leo Legend

Leo is Latin for “lion”. Leo has connections with the Greek god Apollo who is the god of music, poetry, art, oracles, archery, plague, medicine, sun, light and knowledge.

There are two legends associated with the constellation Leo.

The first is the Nemean lion which Hercules had to kill as the first of his 12 Labors.  This fearsome beast terrorized the land, killing all who ventured near it.   Not only was it more fierce, larger and stronger than other lions, but it also had the added advantage of possessing a skin which was impervious to metal, stone and wood.   Since, for this reason, Hercules could not kill the lion with any weapon, he wrestled it with his bare hands, and finally managed to strangle the animal.   Seeing at once the unique protective qualities of the pelt, he removed it with one of the lion’s own claws, and thereafter wore it as a cloak.  

The second contender is the lion featured in the poet Ovid’s tale of Pyramus and Thisbe.   Both sets of parents of this young couple considered them too young to marry and stopped them seeing each other.   However, the pair made arrangements to meet secretly by a mulberry tree with white berries.   When Thisbe arrived at the appointed place, a lion sprang out from some bushes and she ran away in fright.   Unfortunately, her veil fluttered to the ground as she ran and the lion, bloody from its latest kill, pounced on it.   A short time later Pyramus arrived, saw his beloved’s bloody veil and believed that she had been killed.   Totally distraught, and unable to face life without her, he threw himself on his sword.   As he lay dying, Thisbe returned, took his sword and killed herself.   The blood of the tragic pair colored the berries of the mulberry tree red, and so they remain to this day.   Some suggest that Zeus placed Thisbe’s veil in the heavens as Coma Berenices.

On the Skinchanging and Warging Abilities of Bran and Arya

So I was one of those people who became super excited when I read the new Arya chapter and realised there was a link to Bran. I have been thinking about it a lot and my mind is trying to make certain connections. Some of the following may be reaching, it is certainly speculation but the text possibly backs it up.

We have this at the start of the Winds of Winter chapter:

Her true name was Mercedene, but Mercy was all anyone ever called her…

Except in dreams. She took a breath to quiet the howling in her heart, trying to remember more of what she’d dreamt, but most of it had gone already. There had been blood in it, though, and a full moon overhead, and a tree that watched her as she ran. TWOW

The passage is short but so much can be taken from it. There are implications which might be drawn about a) Brans abilities and what he now knows and b) Arya’s abilities and what she might be capable of.

First up, we know Bran’s greenseeing abilities are advancing but I read something into this with regard to what he is seeing when watching Nymeria in the Riverlands. Mercy says that she is called another name in her dreams. Is this meant to be literal or is she simply referring to how she is the Night Wolf in her dreams (mentioned in ADWD). If it is literal, I wonder whether the name she is being called is Nymeria or whether it is Arya.

There was a passage in one of the earlier books where Bran sensed the other direwolves through Summer but he also has the ability to sense wargs:

The eyes of the three wolves glowed yellow. The direwolf swung his head from side to side, nostrils flaring, then bared his fangs in a snarl. The younger male backed away. The direwolf could smell the fear in him. Tail, he knew. But the one-eyed wolf answered with a growl and moved to block his advance. Head. And he does not fear me though I am twice his size.

Their eyes met.

Warg!          ADWD

I don’t think it is a stretch for him to have realised that what he is seeing through the tree is not just Nymeria, but Arya warging Nymeria. His connection to the trees is similar to his skinchanging ability. He slips into them in a similar fashion as when he wargs Summer or skinchanges into a raven:

“Close your eyes” said the three-eyed crow. “Slip your skin, as you do when you join with Summer. But this time, go into the roots instead.” ADWD

If he can sense another warg, Varamyr, in a wolf when he is in Summer then it is possible he has sensed that Arya is in Nymeria. This means he knows for sure she is alive.

Moving on to Arya and her abilities, I have been excited about this for a while. Bran is the most aware of his abilities and arguably has the most control but Arya’s abilities are growing-she is looking like she is becoming an even more powerful skinchanger than she was (the cat she skinchanged into in Braavos indicated that) even though she does it subconsciously. Even though she did not understand and still does not understand what is happening (that she is warging), from her very first wolf dream she has had control of what Nymeria does when they are joined.

Her dreams were red and savage. The Mummers were in them, four at least… They thought they were hunting her, she knew with all the sharp certainty of dreams, but they were wrong. She was hunting them. ASOS

This contrasts with Bran who struggled at first with warging Summer more as escape rather than having purpose. Arya has subconsciously used Nymeria for a purpose from the very beginning, specifically targeting the Bloody Mummers and the Lions. Bran is now of course much more advanced but when Arya learns what is really happening it will be fascinating to see what she is able to do with it.

This brings me to what I became most excited about from the passage in the new chapter. There are references to others receiving messages from Bran but nobody else made a connection (yet) with it being somebody watching, an actual person. Arya has even though she does not know it is real. Even while warging she was able to sense being watched by the tree in a similar fashion to Bran being able to sense other wargs.

I can’t wait to see where this leads. I’m thinking skinchanging dragons for one or both of Bran and Arya but time will tell.