#Badass!James

[jegulusfics]

Of His Bones by MesserMoon

word count: 162,439

finished?: No

main pairings: Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, Alice Longbottom/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes

warnings: Major Character Death, Explicit, Blood and Violence

summary: Once upon a time there was a pirate, who fell in love with a king

my personal thoughts below

i am so ungodly insanely obsessed with this fic rn. i read it a few days ago and genuinely have thought about it multiple times a day since. i mean, cmon....a PIRATE FIC????? there is so much plot and you get multiple povs and it is honestly just so great.

james is so fucking cool in this. james and remus' friendship is soooo intricate and complicated and amazing.

LILY IS SO COOL IN THIS

and marlene is a NUN???

i really really really really love rosekiller in this fic, i feel like this is the rosekiller fic ive been looking for.

overall i could write so much about how interesting this one is but ill let it speak for itself. please read it.

[billy-crudup]

It’s been emotional, Captain. Theo James and Kaya Scodelario as Eddie Horniman and Susie Glass in THE GENTLEMEN Season 1 (2024) Created by Guy Ritchie

[dorcasmckinnonn]

"Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."

smoustart on insta

[we-r-loonies]

"the marauders would be a punk band! a rock band!"

they would be one direction. they wouldn't take anything seriously. sirius and james would make up dances and perform in sync. they'd stop shows to make fun of fans. they'd call someone's mum on stage. peter would tip water on everyone.

[fluloa]

Si fpom

Jake Sully x reader [series, part one]

Home.

That's what your mother whispers to you, mouth stretched into a warm grin as she holds you in her arms. A baby so small, crying in choked whines and all she can do is wipe a hand through your thin threads of short hair. She's exhausted, spent of the hours of pushing and crying and screaming. Ongokx. To be born. Here you were, settled in her arms with a face so sweet and skin so teal. Ronal feels tears dry up on her cheeks as new ones overlap them, "Ma ite. Ma txon."

My daughter. My night. The fire beside her crackles, warming her sweat-dampened legs as Tonowari supports her from her back. The moon's light shines in from the slitted open flat of the tent, highlighting the side of your face. Born in a night. Her little night.

As you grow older, so does your curiosity. You're drawn to the ocean, to the outside of the reef, to the outside of your home. Barely the age of three and you're waddling to the sea foam of the ocean, with your father hot on your feet before he's scooping you up. You just manage to pick up a dirtied seashell before it. "Tomorrow, my daughter. Far too dark now."

He starts walking away with you on his hip, and you look over his big shoulder, arm reaching out clumsily. "Go out there." You wave your seashell, and he takes it from your chubby little hand.

He lows a laugh, "This right here is all you need." He gives your belly a small tickle, before gently moving your head to the view of your village.

When you're four, you're gifted with a baby brother. You sit on your knees from afar as you watch the baby in your mother's arms with curiosity, loud cries filling your ears. He looks so odd to you, a face so small and the stripes on his skin like little spikes. You look to your own. Why are yours more stretched out? And why is he crying so much? Is he hurt?

Your mother looks to you, eyes wearing a tiredness but she smiles, flicking a hand in your direction as she beckons you. "Come look, txon."

You slowly crawl your way towards her, eyes trained on the little being in her arms. You kneel neatly beside her, looking up to her and she nods again, smile brightening as a few chuckles leave her lips. "You can touch, ma eveng."

You warily reach your hand out, placing your palm on the soft skin of his belly. You're fascinated with the way your hand covers most of it. You shift your hand again, instead feathering at his cheek and your mouth cracks into a little smile.

"Tonowari," Ronal quickly whispers, pointing her head to the scene in front of him. His face beams with joy at the sight, placing a hand on her arm as his chest swells with warm pride. At such a young age, you held a sense of maturity, of wiseness. Destined to be a leader. A tsahik. But that didn't mean you didn't have a snap of childish fire in you.

"Ao'nung!" you hiss, refusing to unlatch your grip on the seashell he's desperately holding. He whines, tugging again but it's useless to you. Six and two is a big difference in strength. "Give it— give it!" you scream.

You finally pull, and it's a hard pull. Whipping it out from his grasp and the force sends him to the ground butt first. Hearing the frustrated hisses morph into big cries makes you grin in victory, but the expression drops as soon as you hear the angry thud of footsteps against sand and see the angry look on your incoming mother's face.

During your sixth cycle, you rode your first ilu. Sure, it was a bit on the messy side and you did squirm a bit before connecting your tsaheylu, but as soon as your fingers grazed the wet scales of the animal's neck and you settled comfortable on her back, you were gliding through the sea. Ronal was scared for you at first, but Tonowari's hand placed on her shoulder gave her enough reassurance.

Once you come back up to your parents, your smile is bright, water dripping from your face. Your mother leans over and flicks a few wet stray hairs out from your face. "How was it, txon?"

"Really, really good!" you gasp, earning a chuckle from both your parents. "Can I go further?" you point your finger out, almost reaching to the deeper fill of sea.

Tonowari shakes his head.

"Let me go further!" you whine, dreaded that your father had caught you trying to sneak an ilu after sunset. His grip on your forearm is tight and unforgiving, dragging you away from the coldness of the sea's start and to the dryness of the hot sand. Even if you were twelve, you still held that childish fire.

"I will not let this continue," he snaps out your name. "Foolish girl. One of these days, you'll end up dead."

Your fingers claw at his fist wrapped around your damp skin, tears burning at the rim of your eyes. "I would rather that than be stuck here!" you cry.

He suddenly stops, looks back to you with his face still. "You disappoint me."

He lets go of you, and you slump to the ground, finally letting the tears break from your eyes and drool down your cheeks. You wanted more. More than this land, than this village. But it was out of reach, and you couldn't even attempt to stretch out your hand to catch it.

You feel a hand warm at your shoulder, and you numbly look up, seeing your grandmother eyeing you with a soft sympathy. You clumsily crawl to her, clutching her legs in a hug and a soft chuckle leaves her. "Come," she murmurs.

You're sat at her tent, arms wrapped around your knees as she gently unfolds your braids, drops of water sliding from your hair and sticking to your back. Your eyes are wet, tiredness taking over your body little by little. "What is the matter?" she starts, her tone casual.

"Why am I so different?" you mumble, eyes trained on the ember fire in front of you. "I feel as if I am so apart from everyone else."

"You are your father's daughter," she responds. "He sees himself in you, and he is afraid of that."

"I am nothing like him." You bitter, playing with a cuticle of your nail as annoyance from the events of before settle deep in your heart.

Your grandmother laughs, "You would be surprised. But, ma eveng, you are not apart from everyone else. Different, maybe, but it is not bad. It is a gift."

She takes the final braid out from your hair, humming as she cups your chin with her fingers and turns your face to her gaze. "Lor evenge," she awes. Beautiful girl, she calls you, something that you can't seem to believe each time the words leave her mouth as much as you try to. Her eyes graze over your hair, using a soft hand to comb through it. "You must wear it like this more often."

Your eyebrows crinkle, a smile making its way to your lips. She grins back.

"Come," she takes your hand, bringing you up with her and she skims past her tent, dragging you with to wherever she's going to. She sneaks you past the village, away from the people and fires and leads to you a thick land of rock that's mended through the sand and is perched at the edge of the sea, as flat as the sand beneath your feet. She slips her hand away from yours, stepping onto the rock surface. You watch her with curiosity as she starts to move her arms, and then she turns to you, curling her hand toward you.

You swallow steadily, stepping onto the rock and feeling the gravelly surface graze the bottoms of your bare feet. You begin to follow her movements, unable to fight the grin on your face as she smiles in your direction.

"Dance with the water," your grandmother whispers, voice blending with the soft sway of the ocean. "Feel its waves. Its undertow. Feel it within your body, and move with it. Move with the water, ma evenge."

Your grandmother grows ill when you're fifteen. You can tell in the way her face softens and wrinkles, the way her voice croaks, and the way her movements slow.

Dancing with her at your designated spot, the flat chunk of rock. The night's air cool as it breezes through your unbraided hair, beads jingling on your body as your hips sway. A sudden stop to her motions has your head whipping towards her, rushing to her just before she falls to the ground. "Grandmama," you murmur, pressing a few fingers to her head and worry shocking through your system at the intense warmth that you feel against them.

You yell out desperately, holding her to your smaller body as she begins to slump against you. A few people come, and take her from your arms, rushing her to the healers pod. You follow after them, hot on their heels as you silently beg Eywa for a miracle. You could not lose her. She was your source of peace, your light in the pitch black darkness. She was the only thing that made sense to you.

They lay her out on a blanket layered bed, dipping a bowl of misty green liquid into her mouth. You don't pay attention when the thin curtains of the marui pod whip apart, your parents swarming beside you.

"Mother," your father whispers, kneeling down to her form and rolling a hand over hers. His head suddenly slumps, mouth dipping in a sadness and your heart plumbers.

"Let me see her," you rush, attempting to push past the little crowd of people that surround her. "Let me see her! Grandmama!"

Your mother wraps a hand around your arm, but you immediately shrug it off, forcing your way past everyone as your eyes begin to fog. You drop to your knees, eyes trained on the still, dead face of your grandmother. You suck in a rasped gasp of air, hand pulling on her arm wretchedly as you cry. You scream out, only to be forced away by the rough arms of your father, shoved into his chest as your wails of pain begin to muffle. He lets you cry, lets you hit at his body as despair fills your being. A new tsahik would come forth; your mother.

A little while later, you held young little Tsireya in your arms, allowing her tears to run at the skin of your torso. You push your own need of comfort aside, instead focusing on your younger sister that reaches for the comfort that you need to give. You comb your fingers through her dark hair, just like your grandmama, and mumble a soft tune. "Mawey, hi'i ilva. Aku tikeftxo, teya si fpom."

Calm, little drop. Take away sadness, and fill peace. The beginning of your songcord, the first little bead of your chain.

Past your teenage years and into your early adulthood cycle, you were fierce. A force to be reckoned with. You held that fire within you, and it had only blossomed into a bigger wrath of ember. A gifted dancer, a strong hunter, but a kind heart. A kind heart that your people grew to know, to adore. Wise beyond your years, people said, but a wild, curious and adventurous young girl deep inside. Your father's daughter, just like your grandmother had once said.

"A tsahik in the making," your mother tells you, fixing the crystal woven crown on your hairline. Your head juts up, your chest risen with pride as she then traces your newly tattooed back.

A tsahik in the making that you hope could live up to your grandmama.

— sooo here it is!! ik this chapter isn’t that big but trust me, next chapter will be FAT. lol. pls be kind. <333 also idk if this will get attention or not

to be in my tag list for this series -> here

PART TWO

[howlerbat]

every single day I wake up and I miss Hal Gates

[bethsvrse]

Can we ban shy!readers? please 🙏

[putting-the-pan-in-paniccc]

why do people call Barty x James jarty when sunkiller is RIGHT THERE like don’t lie to me and say jarty sounds more badass than sunkiller like…no. no it’s not

[tvckerwash]

you know, an interpretation of ct that I don't see that I personally really love is that she's a fuck up. like yes she's cool and she has some good fight scenes, but a huge part of her character is that she makes mistakes. the mistakes that she makes are ones that on their own aren't the end of the world, but she keeps making these little mistakes, and they eventually add up until she's out of room to make any more.

a really good example of this phenomenon in action is the actions she took leading up to her final confrontation with carolina and tex.

strike one, she thought she saw something in the water, but when asked by the leader what it was, she brushed it off as nothing when even if it had been nothing, it would've been smart to tell him what she thought she saw.

strike two, she didn't sense or notice florida's presence when the leader did, and she looks at the leader twice, once as she pulled out her magnums, and again after she did a scan of the room, almost like she was looking at him for guidance before he finds florida and takes him out with one good axe throw.

strike three, she couldn't convince the leader to leave when they had the chance to get away, and her cheap tricks were not enough to hold off either tex or carolina in a fight. they were only good for incapacitating her opponents enough for her to get away, which doesn't work when she has no escape.

ct is not tex, or carolina, or south. she is not a one woman army who can get herself out of trouble when she's stuck in tough situations. she needs people who can watch her back, she need a team who can cover her when she does mess up, and the leader and his team were not those people. she couldn't bring herself to trust them, and they couldn't bring themselves to trust her, and that cost all of them their lives.

[alwayshinny]

Hinny 💍 - The One With No Voldy and Where Everyone Lives

AU, where Harry happens to hear a conversation between his grandfather, Fleamont Potter, and his father, James. Fleamont, who has been looking weaker by the day, tells his son he knows his and Euphemia's time is coming to an end, and his only regret is not being able to witness Harry grow up and get married. This bothers Harry, and while on a playdate at the Burrow, he confides in Ginny, who responds as if it were the most obvious solution: "Then let's get married."

They persuade their families to arrange a gathering, and they con the Weasley brothers into decorating the backyard. Ron stands by Harry's side as his best man, while Luna is Ginny's bridesmaid. All it took was one look from Harry and Ginny to convince Sirius to turn into Padfoot to be their ring bearer/flower girl; his outfit consisted of a bowtie and a tutu (James, Remus, Gideon, and Fabian nearly fell off their chairs laughing so hard).

They made each other's wedding rings. Harry's ring was made from the metal from his grandma's old Auror badge (which Euphemia gave to her willingly) and the very first snitch he caught for the first time and gifted to her. Ginny convinced Fabian and Gideon to transform into a ring. Ginny's ring was made of her favorite green bubble gum (that was suspiciously similar to Harry's eye color) and twigs of their broomsticks as the band, which Harry convinced his dad and Sirius to smooth out and place an unbreakable charm on with an auto-replenishing charm on the bubble gum.

They both dressed themselves for the occasion, and Harry asked his mom and godmother Marlene to help him pick flowers for Ginny's bouquet. He smelled each one and was very picky persistent it had to smell like Ginny's hair. It took Harry HOURS until he was finally satisfied with the arrangement. Molly volunteered to make their wedding cake, and a few days before the wedding, Ginny told her dad in a very grown-up tone to wear a bowtie because he was walking her down the aisle on Sunday. Hinny asked Hagrid to marry them, and when it was time to kiss the bride, Harry was just about to protest/lecture Hagrid about how he should have asked Ginny for her consent instead of giving him permission "to kiss the bride" (the boy was Lily Potter's son and a true feminist at heart), when Ginny pulled Harry down and gave Harry a big kiss on the lips. The kid was frozen for a solid minute and then couldn't stop smiling as he followed his 'wife' around all day.

They made Fleamont and Euphemia's wishes come true.

Then, 16 years later, they got married again.

[arrowmaker15]

(Everyone gathered in the living room of Wayne Manor)

Dick: You know what time it is!

Damian: I do not need a costume, Grayson.

Dick, ignoring Damian: This year's theme is superheroes and/or vigilantes! I'll go first; I'll be dressing up as the Flash!

Tim: Wally's version, I assume. I'll go as Superboy.

Jason: Do I have to?

Dick: Yes.

Jason, sighing: Male Wonder Woman.

Damian:...

Damian: Batman.

Cass: Black Canary.

Barbara: Batgirl.

Duke: Can she- whatever. Black Lightning.

Bruce:

Bruce: Superman...

Steph: Red Hood.

(Everyone looks at her)

Steph: Yes, I'll be going as my boyfriend. Don't give me that look, Tim's going as his!

Bruce: Excuse me-

[loonylupinstoasties]

Regulus chopping off Mulciber's hand for making James flinch and Regulus stabbing Bellatrix with a fork for touching James in Crimson Rivers is my favourite thing

he's so protective it makes me laugh

and then he's like i ToLd YoU wHaT wOuLd HaPpEn-

god I love him

[wikitpowers]

cordelia & james be like:

(cordelia w/ cortana and james just swooning😌)

[residentdork]

I think T'Pring was absolutely brilliant in Amok Time by choosing Jim as her champion. Maybe this is already an explored concept in fandom or in extended media, but I'm gonna rant about it anyway. I've seen some people just be pissed at her and call her a bitch. Think she either doesn't believe in her man Stonn or that she's trying to punish Spock in some way by choosing his friend but I think her decision to choose Jim shows how much she cares about Spock.

Cause here's the thing I don't think she just worried that if she chooses Stonn, Spock would win and kill her boyfriend. I think she was equally worried that Stonn would win and kill Spock.

Other than not wanting to marry him anymore T'Pring is fairly cordial. And the two, while estranged, weren't broken up. It almost feels like she was willing to "be his maybe" or backup in case either of them hit pon far before finding a new partner. But the timing was bad and she was starting to fall for Stonn when Spock reached his time.

Now if she cares for both of them then either winning is a terrible outcome. And she can't just pick another Vulcan cause either they lose and she still has to marry Spock or her champion kills Spock.

Now enter Jim. A Starfleet Captain who morally and legally can't kill his own crewman but who Spock also clearly cares for enough to bring with him.

Jim is the perfect champion because either Spock wins and is pissed she made him kill his friend and refuses her anyway (which is the outcome) or Jim being not of this world has a chance to break the rules and find a solution that she can't without risking her position. (Which is also the outcome of the episode).

There's no scenario probably in her mind of Kirk outright winning because A) come on he's a weak little human B) even if he could he'd be risking his whole career and C) if she's heard anything about Kirk she knows he'd rather die than kill a crewman like this on purpose.

Even on the off chance Spock wins and doesn't deny her, he's killed a Star Fleet Captain. His career in Star Fleet is over and her biggest complaint on his character, that he puts his career before her and that that career has socially put them both in a weird spot, is mitigated.

Sure she would lose Stonn but maybe in this unlikely scenario, she and Spock might have a chance to work out some of their issues and come to an understanding.

It's not a perfect scenario but of her options she's picked a solution that allows her to win in some part in every outcome.

I love T'Pring, she's over here gaming the system and it just makes me so sad when fandom paints her to be this cold bitch who either bullies or hates Spock when clearly in her first appearance she's picked the only option in this weird violent part of Vulcan culture that keeps Spock alive.

Put some respect on her name!

[ashes-to-ashesxx]

I'm sick of seeing cutesy, too nice, advice giving lily evans

let her be a passionate, stubborn, fiery BADASS!!!!

[veesstar0555]

*crimson rivers jegulus*

regulus: lets settle this in the arena!

james: lets settle this.. in bed.

regulus: what?

regulus: in the ARENA.

james: in bed!

regulus “parting gift” black: .. fine