Hi yes hello please don’t imagine John and Emori, hand in hand, wandering through the ship one night and turning down a very familiar corridor. Don’t imagine John slowing for a moment, confused then realizing, not wanting to go any further but not wanting to worry Emori. Don’t imagine Emori coming across a door with the words “Murphy Family” written clumsily in black ink along it, like a child’s handwriting. Don’t imagine Emori opening the door and cautiously stepping inside, like she’s treading on unhallowed ground, scanning the walls and beds and empty drawers and realizing that this was his home. This was his family. This was his happy. Don’t imagine John looking around the room he hasn’t seen in years and remembering. Remembering his parents dancing to music when they thought he was sleeping. His mother reading him stories. His father teaching him to tie his shoes. The empty spot on the bed where his father used to sleep. The corner his mother would collapse in after a night of liquor. The blood stain on the carpet from when his mother lost control. His mother choking on the floor, death in her eyes. Don’t imagine him hearing the sounds he thought he’d finally escaped from. His parents laughter, rolling marbles on metal, his mothers lullabies, the whispers, the sobs, the moans, the screams that echoed through the vents, the machine hum, the silence. Don’t imagine Emori turning back to him and seeing the sorrow written across his face, the pain buried deep behind his eyes that he never lets show. Don’t imagine him letting go, letting the quiet tears fall, letting his guilt wash over, and Emori embracing him. Don’t imagine them just standing there, holding tight to each other, desperate to hug away the past. Don’t imagine John, whilst stroking Emori’s hair, looking around the room and realizing that that life is over now. But I’m holding a new one in my arms. Don’t imagine John cupping her face in his hand, staring at the person he loved more than anything in the world, at the person who saved his life and made living worth it, and it hitting all him at once. This could be ours. We could have a home. We could build a life here. We could be together. I want a life with you. Don’t imagine him taking her badass hand- the thing that denied her of her own home- and kissing it. Imagine John Murphy, smiling at the love of his life, forgetting every terrible thing his past has shown him, remembering all the good he’s ever had, and looking without fear into the future, and saying “Welcome home”
It truly wasn’t uncommon for Harry to spend the week following a fight laying around with ice and hot packs and getting prodded at by Liam, trying to heal before throwing himself back into training, but with Beth gone, things were different. He couldn’t quite remember what he used to do alone before she became a constant fixture next to him, even when she studied and paid him no attention she was still beside him in company. Now she was back in Halifax and nothing could hold his attention for more than a few minutes without his mind drifting to her.
Everything had traces of Beth.
Damn took me a while I honestly try to stick with fanfictions that make James and Aleks in
character as possible. Enjoy
» What Goes Bump in the Night - AceOfHearts67 3k+ words, T Summary:
There’s nothing gay about playing a prank on your friend and spooning
in the middle of the night, right? James thinks so. Aleks, on the other
hand, seems to have a different idea– One that leads to a certain
realization for both of them.
» Skinny Jeans & Tattooed Arms - memelordaleks *UNFINISHED*
4 Chapters, T Summary: James decides to do something
he’s always longed for and goes in to get his first tattoo, his
half-sleeve. Of course, he goes to only the best artist in Denver,
Aleksandr. After going in for the few sessions it takes to fill his
forearm, someone develops a crush.
» Trauma - notebookw 7 Chapters, T Summary:
Aleks is involved in a car-accident, and is left in in a condition that
has everyone wondering if he’s going to end up okay. James personally
doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he isn’t okay.
» Have a Shot - thatsharkhat 24 Shots, Rating Depends Summary: An ongoing collection of NovaHD writing from my tumblr.
» Tear In My Heart - thebellsjon *UNFINISHED* 2 Chapters, T Summary:
James was concerned and Aleks thought he was an idiot.
» Atlas - TwilightHayley 30 Chapters, M? Summary:
In the midst of a post-apocalyptic world, Aleks finds a home and builds a life with someone he never expected to meet.
» Losing - novahdiIdo 4 Chapters, T Summary: “There’s no one to blame here but yourself. He didn’t lead you on. It was all in your head.”
» 100 Ways to Say I Hate You- BlueLovesStuff *UNFINISHED*10 Chapters, T Summary:
100 fictional phrases (chapters) that show the transition from the
platonic, slightly amorous, and finally romantic relationship of James
» Hold My Hand- angrymomvoice 31 Chapters, M Summary:
The Preacher’s boy and the Rebel without a clue. James needed
excitement, and, oh, needed it bad. Aleks was the best he’s ever had..
» NovaHD ❀City Boy❀ - angrymomvoice *UNFINISHED* 6 Chapters, T Summary:
“Come on city boy.” James sighed as he walked out of the house and into
the field. “City boy? That’s stupid and it’s not my name.” Aleksandr
glared. “Hm, well maybe when you grow the fuck up I’ll respect you
enough to call you Aleks.” The other flashed him a cute grin before
ushering Aleks along.
This was going to be a long summer.
» Texting - k-chouko 21 Chapters, T Summary:Aleksandr
had nothing better to do. He was bored. He goes onto Omegle, a ‘chat
with strangers’ website, to see if anyone had anything interesting to
converse about. To see if he could meet a new friend. He comes across
someone who happens to live in the same state as he does. They exchange
some info, one thing leads to another and, well.. This is the story of
how Aleksandr Marchant met, loved, and hated James Wilson.
Recently, I have seen the antis whip themselves into a frenzy over a quick comment at the bottom of a gif set that called Rey “predatory”. As is probably to be expected, they immediately considered this victim blaming, yet another attempt by the sinister Reylo cohort to woobify Kylo by painting Rey as a monster for defending herself.
Such hysteria, of course, ignores the nuances at work. This isn’t going to be a post about whether Kylo abused Rey or not, because to be frank that horse has been flogged to the point that I want to get the RSPCA to come and rescue it. Instead, it’s going to be about what makes Rey an interesting character - namely the dualism between light and dark that she personifies.
It’s easy to consider Rey a creature of pure light - the film is endlessly making this connection, dressing her in off-white and frequently bathing her with brilliant, heavenly light. Her name literally draws an analogy with a a sunbeam, making her a metaphorical “ray of light”. And this is borne out by how she behaves and is perceived by others. Rey is almost incandescent - optimistic (”don’t give up hope!”), hopeful (”they’ll be back”) and selfless (”the droid’s not for sale”). And people are helpless but to love her for it. Finn is immediately besotted, Han is fatherly, and Kylo is obsessed. In short, Rey inspires love in all its manifestations.
But the real mystery here is how Rey held onto the light that others are so drawn to. There is almost no reason for her to be good, while there is every reason for her to be bitter. Rey has grown up in a state of profound subjugation - abandoned, exploited and starved. And the saddest thing is that Rey, to an extent, chooses to continue like this. Rey doesn’t want to leave Jakku, and is clearly shown to be trapped by her own desperate hope - to get Campbellian, Rey repeatedly turns down the “call to adventure” in favour of returning to the planet where she’s effectively a slave to continue holding vigil for her family. This is underlined in anguishing detail in Before the Awakening, the prequel novel by Greg Rucka. In the novel, Rey finds a salvageable ship that she spends months making space-worthy. She toils and toils, starving herself by scavenging for her project rather than her stomach. When the ship is finished she pilots it to Niima Outpost, proud and elated by her success - but she has no intention of leaving the planet. Instead, her plan is to sell the ship to Unkar and earn herself thousands of portions. She envisages having food security for years, finally winning herself the time she so desperately needs to improve her home and build a better life for herself. The idea of leaving is unfathomable to her, and it’s what sees her cruelly cheated - the people she tentatively trusted to help her with the ship steal it from her as she approaches Unkar to make the sale, flying off as she watches from the sand, abandoned once again.
So Rey has every reason to be angry - angry at whoever left her, angry at other people, angry at fate. Yet this anger is never even glimpsed until the film’s climax.
For the first half of the duel, Rey is shocked, frightened and floundering. She is amazed when the lightsaber goes to her, her own wonder only eclipsed by Kylo’s. At the beginning of the fight she is at a disadvantage, spared only because Kylo - by his own admission, if we’re to accept the storybook as canon (”I don’t want to kill you!”) - has no desire to see her harmed. The turning point in their battle only comes when Rey draws upon the deep well of her pain - after tapping into the Force, Rey’s serenity slips to reveal a vicious, animalistic snarl. The Rey we glimpse here is the Rey who has been repressed for years, the Rey who was smothered by her own desperate hope for a family that wasn’t coming.
In the latter half of the duel, Rey is unmistakably presented as a predator. She stalks towards Kylo as he staggers back from her, a sizzling wound in his shoulder. Her back is to the camera, with Kylo explicitly framed as her victim - he is stripped of all of his power, and his fate is entirely hers to decide. In this sense it’s the ultimate power fantasy - the young woman who has known little else beside victimisation, subjugation and cruelty is given a sword and tasked with slaying the dragon who intended to suffocate her in his coils.
There is no need for Rey to brand Kylo’s face - it is a wound inflicted purely out of a desire to cause pain, a wound intended to mark Kylo’s defeat and punctuate his failure. In that moment, Rey is spiteful and driven by rage and a desire for revenge - in other words, she triumphs on account of her darkness rather than her light. There is nothing defensive about cutting someone’s face when they’re already beaten, and the closest parallel to that moment is Kylo cruelly slicing open Finn’s spine - both wounds are intensely personal, fuelled by rage, malice and spite.
And this is precisely what makes Rey so interesting. For as much as she might radiate light and attract people to her for her goodness, Rey is marked by her bone-deep suffering as much as her hope. And that suffering - and more specifically the desire to avenge it - is what erupts at the end of The Force Awakens. Because the Force isn’t purely characterised by Light, and Rey embodies it in all its manifestations.
A couple months go by and people start to heal, both mentally and physically. One day Bellamy walks by a bunch of teenagers clustered together and he hears one of them use Clarke’s name, so he stills. For the most part, people have stopped talking about her. Like Bellamy they find it hurts too much. But not everyone misses her. He knows immediately which group these kids belong to.
“I heard she laughed as she pushed the lever. Said something about how she hoped they all went straight to hell, even the little kids.” The speaker is a dark haired boy somewhere around Octavia’s age. Bellamy recognizes him as one of the kids whose parents never made it to the ground. Mark something. A titter runs through the group, and before he knows it Bellamy has the kid pinned against the nearest tree, his hands fisted in Mark’s shirt.
“Don’t ever-” Bellamy whispers, his nose nearly touching Mark’s, “-let me hear you talk about Clarke like that again.” His chest is heaving with pent up emotion, and Mark simply nods, eyes wide.
Now that Clarke is gone Bellamy is the one the delinquents look up to. He doesn’t have the drive to fight Abby for chancellor though, not without her. He lets go, Mark landing on his feet with a soft thud. Bellamy hadn’t even realized he’d lifted the boy right off the ground.
“S-sorry.” Mark stutters. The rest of his group just blink in shock.
“You owe her your life. We all do. She gave up everything just so you could stand there and spread rumors about her.” The disgust in Bellamy’s voice is obvious. The pain only a little less so.
He waves the group off, veering towards the gate. Miller doesn’t say anything as Bellamy passes, but the look on his face says enough. These days Bellamy spends more time outside the camp than in it, the hope that he might catch a glimpse of blonde hair all he really feels anymore. Together, he’d said. It was how they pushed that lever, ending the lives of hundreds of innocent people to save their own. But that wasn’t what he’d meant at all.
And now, footsteps falling quietly on the forest floor, he can’t help but think of that moment outside the camp. She’d kissed him, and folded herself into him in a way he now craved with an empty longing. And then she walked away. He’d meant that they could live together, go home and build a new life, build a new people. He’d meant that he wanted her here, with him. But now all they have is blood on their hands and indefinite space between them and he misses her with a ferocity that startles him sometimes. So he paces the forest, eyes scanning for threats, and prey, and her.
When the darkness gets too thick between the trees he heads back, a few rabbits and a wild hen hanging from his pack.It feels like coming back empty handed. It always does.
It began for Neymar on the streets of São Vicente, when the goals were sandals and the ball sometimes little more than a rock.
Neymar Sr recalls the difficult times. There was a time when they had no money to pay the electricity bill and were therefore cut off. He reminisces to the good old days. Juninho (Neymar jr) and Rafaela were kids and would love being in the dark with lit candles. “What we had in that house with no electricity was priceless: true love. That’s how you really build a home, a life. With love. Even without money, our family was united and happy,"