VENEZUELA. Caracas. April 6, 2017. A demonstrator protects himself after a tear gas canister fired by police riot crashed against his skateboard during a protest. Tens of thousands of demonstrators shut down Venezuela’s capital on Thursday, blocking the city’s main artery to protest what they call an attempted coup by the socialist administration.
I’m dancing. My feet
follow no pattern and make no sound as I glide effortlessly over the terrain,
but the rhythm of the Super Shotgun guides my every move. I weave to and fro
among the soaring fireballs and scything claws, spotting opportunities, darting
near and far, catching hellspawn in efficient point-blank bursts of
scattershot. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Boom,
click, ker-chunk. Boom, click, ker-chunk. Somewhere in the back of my head,
I’m dimly aware of the familiar noise of a pneumatic door sliding open, barely
audible above a tinny MIDI rendition of ‘Fear Of The Dark’. It’s catchier than
Somebody roars. I’ve
heard the sound enough times to recognise it as a ‘somebody’. Startled, I pivot to catch sight of the new assailants:
two heavyset bald men, cradling imposingly large guns, furious piggy eyes as
red as their bulky chestplates. Chaingunners. Before I can close the distance,
they open fire, tearing an abundance of new holes in my circle-strafing, road-running
backside. I put them out of action, but the damage is done. Was that a fair
exchange? It’s not as if I could’ve outpaced their shots. Are they a fun enemy design in this, the most famous of all famously fast-paced
first-person shooter? My kneejerk response is ‘no’, but Doom—because of course,
it’s Doom—is a lot smarter than it seems.
Few games can claim to have lived as long and as healthily
as Doom. Of course, it’s had the unwavering support of a community on its side,
constantly tweaking and touching-up and doing everything in their power to stop
the wrinkles under its eyes from showing, but its simple formula and flexible combat were always going to hold up well against the test of time. Doom has
influenced the design of the modern first-person shooter in more ways than I
could possibly articulate, with a little bit of DNA in everything from ARMA to
Ziggurat, and yet… I feel there are one or two lessons from it that never quite
See, the concept of the ‘old-school’ first-person shooter,
while not especially formally defined, is very much a thing. We’ve seen bits of
it in the likes of Painkiller, Strafe, Tower of Guns, Dusk, Desync, Devil
Daggers, and yes, even Doom 2016: games that buck dominant design patterns to
focus on swift, streamlined, evasive movement, and a host of enemies that force
you to make the most of that movement. Out of style, but by no means out of
their depth, these games take after Doom more than most, but no matter how much
they borrow from it, there’s one particular feature that many seem to skirt around.
Something regarded almost with a kind of hushed, ‘we don’t talk about that’
shame, like the uncle at the family get-together who isn’t allowed to leave the
country for reasons that nobody’s quite sure of. Hitscan enemies, a regular
staple of Doom’s encounters, have near-vanished from the contemporary games
that bear closest resemblance to it. What happened?
Well, at a glance, they do seem to clash with the desired
experience. Doomguy can outrun a lot of things—many of which need at least
fifty supervised hours logged before you can operate them independently—but he
cannot outrun bullets, nor buckshot. You can’t dodge a hitscan enemy’s attacks
by just going fast; the nature of Doom means that they take no time to pivot
and have impeccable aim, other than the inherent spread patterns of their
weapons. Your only recourse, it would seem, is to get out of range—a bit of a
tall order, in most scenarios—or to take cover, which sounds like it would go
directly against the fast, exciting experience of running around with the wind
in your hair and a rocket launcher under your arm. ‘Cover’ is a dirty word; one
that brings to mind hunkering behind a chest-high wall, plinking away at a
succession of targets and crawling out only when a grenade gets tossed into your
lap. To be in cover implies one is at rest, without any of the spatial analysis,
fast-paced action or thrilling escapes that characterise the rest of the
combat. You can see this stigma manifest frequently in retro first-person
shooters, which often come hand-in-hand with the attitude that cover is for
babies, and charging blindly into battle with your enormous, impenetrable
testicles hanging out on display is the only acceptable combat strategy for ‘real
men’. You could probably write a hefty tome about how unhealthy pulp action-hero
masculinity has seeped through various layers of media and eventually pooled,
like a discarded half-finished McDonalds’ thickshake, in nooks and crannies of
gaming obscurity, but that’s a discussion for another time.
The thing is, Doom
itself doesn’t actually work that way. In fact, it does a number of things to
ensure that hitscan enemies don’t stifle the player’s movement, but instead add
an extra set of considerations and trade-offs, forcing them to look at the play
space—and when and where they position themselves in it—in a more nuanced
manner. Like most of the ingredients that go into a first-person shooter, the
way Doom’s hitscan enemies work is subject to its encounter design—a
surprisingly diverse field, as custom WADs frequently demonstrate—but there are
a few qualities to them you can count on in every sensible encounter.
Let’s break this down, piece by piece. Of the five enemy
types in the first two Doom games with hitscan attacks, the three most common
ones by a large margin are the ‘former humans’: undead soldiers who utilise
conventional firearms—provided your definition of ‘conventional’ extends to a
portable belt-fed chain gun, I suppose—and have all the durability of a
cardboard cutout of Master Chief that somebody left out in the rain overnight.
Upon noticing the player, they give a suitably enraged bellow and enter their
attack routine: move, pause, shoot (if possible), repeat.
This pattern gives us time. Like a fireball whistling
through the air, it gives us a chance to handle our predicament by reacting and
moving quickly. It only takes an undead sergeant a few tenths of a second to
level his shotgun barrel at you—give or
take a bit of bumbling around, as they are wont to do—but in the world of Doom,
it’s enough to at least start on a decisive manoeuvre. Doomguy runs quickly
enough that you can very likely put something between yourself and your foe
before they fire—it doesn’t even have to be a wall; other monsters serve
perfectly well—and since the poor daft AI has no concept of suppressing fire,
you need only be behind it for the split-second it takes them to return to
their ‘move’ state. Consequentially, cover is less about clinging to the warm,
comforting bosom of a solid wall and more about rapidly, momentarily
repositioning yourself when the situation demands it; diving around corners,
circling pillars, making use of the nearest solid thing in a pinch and
immediately darting back out again. Taking cover is every bit as much about
clever, well-timed movement as circle-strafing a pack of imps, and to be honest,
probably demands far more split-second decision-making.
Another quality that’s critical to the success of the former
humans is their relative squishiness: you can usually count on a single shotgun
blast to put one out of action, and even glancing shots are likely to interrupt
their routines long enough to buy some extra breathing room. A crowd can be
swiftly dealt with by just raking a chain gun across their ranks—conveniently,
the exact weapon dropped by the strongest former human, the Chaingunner—and pointing anything
bigger at them is usually outright wasteful. This is key because it means that
they’re only a very short-term threat—or, in larger battles where they’re mixed
up with other enemies, only a threat for as long as you ignore them. Ducking behind
a pillar once to evade a sergeant’s buckshot is a rush, but having to go
through the same motion two or three times is stagnation. By letting you remove
the former humans from the fight almost as quickly as they appear, Doom lets you
quickly lift the restrictions they impose and expand the space where you can
freely move, ensuring you’re never tied to one piece of cover or trapped in
some godforsaken alcove.
But not every hitscan enemy in Doom goes down so easily,
does it, hmm? I’m going to gently refuse to acknowledge the Spider Mastermind—a
rare, highly-situational boss that squats unpleasantly at the end of the first
game like a cane toad under the wheels of your dad’s Hilux—and instead
concentrate on the notorious Arch-vile, whose pale, emaciated, lanky form is
enough to set off half a dozen panic alarms in any Martian marine’s head. It’s
everything the former humans aren’t: fast, durable, and capable of suddenly
blasting half your health clean off from the far side of a munitions bay—to say
nothing of its ability to revive fallen monsters, unravelling your work more
and more the longer you leave it standing. Crucially, however, while the
Arch-vile makes for a more persistent and punishing threat than the former
humans, it also gives us much more time to work with. It takes about three full
seconds of dramatic posing for an Arch-vile to wind up its hitscan attack—a
pillar of infernal fire that explodes around its target—and once again, you are
only required to actually duck behind something for the split-second when the
attack connects to avoid taking damage.
Consequentially, while our vitamin
D-deficient friend does rather firmly, briefly force players into hiding, it also
affords us the opportunity to stretch our legs and take nontrivial actions in
between its attacks, giving it a distinctly different effect to Doom’s other
hitscan enemies. Between every Arch-vile’s attack, there’s time enough to dart
around the immediate area, change cover, take care of some lesser enemies, or—most
likely—run up to it and empty both barrels into its repulsive mug. At an
abstract level, the Arch-vile clamps down on the player by forcing them to be out
of certain zones at certain times, but doesn’t make those zones inherently
damaging to cross, like a crowd of former humans does.
Putting everything back together, Doom’s hitscan enemies are
designed not to eliminate movement, but to carefully squeeze it; to force the
player to take action, moving along vectors towards positions of safety. Restrictions
on where in the combat space you can safely be are what make Doom’s fights
engaging, and the restrictions that hitscan enemies provide are every bit as
important to your positioning as a Revenant’s homing rocket or an Imp’s tossed
fireball—they just take a different approach. Yet they’re also designed to
ensure you’re never required to linger at your destination a moment longer than
necessary, either by being easy to remove from the battlefield, or by only periodically
applying their particular brand of pressure. Like every enemy in the game’s toolbox,
they can be abused and used outside of their ideal roles—take a peek at The
Plutonia Experiment, half of Final Doom, for some truly breathtakingly rude
Chaingunner placement—but their basic principles are every bit as valuable as
Doom will force you to move, but it will never force you to
stay. And that’s the philosophy that every first-person shooter should be built
“None of you are listening!” Kara yelled at the assembled women trying to save the world. “You know what? If you don’t need my ideas, you’re welcome to go fight the Daxamites by yourself.” She zipped across the room fast enough to blur, almost tearing the door to the fire exit off its hinges in her temper.
Alex moved to follow, but Cat waved her off.
“Agent Scully, keep an eye on Norma Bates here,” Cat nodded towards Lillian. “Supergirl and I are due for a catchup.” Her heels clicked across the floor as she followed in Kara’s wake. Those would have to be changed out for flats if she really would be expected to venture out in the field with them. That suggestion had been the reason for Kara’s outburst, or at least the last straw across her unbreakable back.
“Go away, Alex,” Kara grumbled, landing blows on a cleaner than average dumpster.
“Last I checked your sister wasn’t wearing Gianvitto Rossi heels. Need that superhearing checked?”
“I’m not going to allow it, so don’t start with me, Cat.”
“Allow?” Cat stepped in closer, wrinkling her nose at the mess in the alley. She made exceptions for Kara all the time, but really. “That chucklehead from Dixon has really done a number on you, if you think a grown woman has to be allowed to do any damn thing she wants. I’ll be a decoy if I’m needed, Kara.”
‘Thank’s for tonight.’ Jungkook whispered as he held you in his arms and swayed to the soft music that was lingering around.
‘Thank you for such an amazing date.’ You responded as your head rested on his chest.
Yourself and Jungkook had been together for a year and two months. You were a stylist at Big Hit Entertainment and become good friends with Namjoon. He wasn’t your best friend but he was someone you could talk to, considering your lack of Korean when you first moved to Korea. Through him, you met Kook and everything went uphill from then on for the both of you. The two of you had been busy and tonight happened to be the only one where both of you could spend time together.
Jungkook closed the space between your lips. You had kissed many times prior to this, but this one felt like it made your relationship stronger. His lips moulded into yours as if they were made for each other. Fluttering your eyes close, you wrapped your hands around his neck while his went down to your waist. His lips were warm and welcoming as you kissed him back softly. Many times had you both had heated kisses, but this one had an innocence of true love. Pulling apart, he looked deep into your eyes and placed a kiss on your forehead. Lacing your fingers together, he guided you for a walk down the parkway. He had organised a dinner in the park for the evening.
‘The stars are so beautiful.’ You marvelled, looking up at the clear evening sky.
‘Not as beautiful as you.’ He smiled, looking at your side profile in awe.
‘Yah,’ You nudged him playfully, ‘You are so cheesy!;
‘I know, but you love it.’ The maknae pointed out just as your phone rang.
You held out a finger to pause the moment while the other began digging for the phone, ‘Hold that thought,’ You answered the phone, ‘Hello?….ah Joonie.’ You blocked the receiver and whispered back to your boyfriend, ‘Sorry, just give me a minute’ Placing the phone back on your ear, you walked away to continue the conversation with the rapper.
Kook clenched his fists as he saw you lover walk away, this had been the fourth time that Namjoon had phoned and not the first time he had ruined one of his moments. He found that the elder was doing it more often these days and was starting to get fed up. He knew that Namjoon was his hyung, but this was getting really irritating. Many times he wanted to tell you about it, but he didn’t wanna sound like a jealous boyfriend. He took a seat on a park bench and tried to restrain his anger while he waited for you to finish up your phone call. More then ten minutes passed before you came back, and not with a smile on your beautiful face.
‘What did he want this time?’ Jungkook asked, looking up at you.
‘Hey don’t be like that.’ You scolded.
‘This is the fifth time he phoned tonight!’ The maknae stood up, towering over you.
‘I know but he is my friend-’
‘Exactly! He is your friend.’
You sighed deeply ‘Listen I have to cut this short because he ripped a shirt that he was meant to wear for an interview.’
‘And so?’ He huffed.
‘He wants me to fix it,’ You explained, ‘He is at a friends place.’
‘What is he doing there?’ Kook asked with a raised brow.
‘How must I know?’ You chuckle, pecking his cheek, ‘You can go back to the dorm or my place.’
‘I will see you at home.’ A frustrated groan left his lips.
‘So I will meet you at home, okay baby?’ You tried to lighten the mood
‘Yeah whatever.’ He walked away.
You watched your boyfriend walk away from you. You hated to end this short, but Namjoon needed you, even if it was for a silly thing. You loved both of them, with it varying for each but it was love nevertheless. You went and hauled a taxi while he drove the car home. The drive was boring for the sound of the radio was the only thing making a noise. He was so angry that he didn’t even know how to express it at this point. Arriving home, he kicked his shoes off and went straight to have a shower. He reckoned the shower would ease his rage. Gratefully it did, but it only heightened as hours went by and you weren’t answering your phone.
‘How did you even manage this?’ You asked for the nth time since arriving hours ago.
‘I don’t even know.’ Namjoon said with a pout, ‘All I did was try and put it on.’
‘And there’s the answer.’ You chuckled, ‘You shouldn’t be able to do anything by yourself. You are the king of chaos Kim Namjoon. Forever breaking things!’
‘This was an accident!’ He tried to reason.
‘You lucky it was just a tear and not set on fire.’ You finish the last stitch before holding the shirt up, ‘There, all done.’
‘Thank you so much, Y/N!’ The rapper had you on his arms for a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and twirling you around.
‘Look at that, the mighty Rap Monster is actually a cute fluffy troll.’ His friend teased, camera pointed at the both of you.
‘Yah! I am cute.’ Joon challenged, ‘And I’m not a troll!’
‘What ever keeps you asleep at night.’ A snicker came from him as he posted the video.
‘Are you going home now?’ Namjoon asked, averting his attention to you.
‘Yeah, I was kinda on a date with Kook before this.’ You admitted, rubbing the back on your neck.
‘And you came to me!?’ The rapper gasped, ‘Why would you do that?’
‘Because you are my friend and you needed me.’ A shrug came as you felt Namjoon all but shove you out the door with your belongings, ‘What the hell!’
‘Get going, you should be with Kookie now, not me.’ The elder pointed out, ‘Goodnight, Y/N’
With a flash of his dimple smile, he slammed the door, ‘GOODNIGHT TO YOU AS WELL, YOU BRAT!’
Chuckling, you made your way to a taxi while a certain boy had watched the same video over and over. His hand all but wrapped around the phone with anger. Retreating to bed, he drifted to sleep. Thirty minutes passed before the sound of the entrance code beeped and the front door opened and closed. He heard you take your shoes off and toss your bag on the table. Your soft footsteps padded across the floor as he glared at the bedside clock which blinked 12:45am. His back was to the door as he lay and waited for you to enter. The bedroom door opened quietly as you tiptoed in and closed it softly as to not wake him, not that he was asleep.
‘Do you have any idea what the time is?’ He growled as you froze in your tracks.
‘I know baby ,I’m sorry.’ You apologised, lights flashing on.
‘Sorry?’ He stood up from the bed, ‘SORRY! Why have you not been answering your phone?!’
‘It was on silent.’ You defended.
‘It wasn’t on silent when we were at dinner and Namjoon kept phoning every thirty minutes like a pest!’ Kook pointed out, stepping dangerously close to you.
‘Don’t you call him that! He is your hyung.’ You scolded, ‘What is wrong with you?’
‘Me?’ He pointed at himself, ‘The question that should be asked is, ‘why are you taking him more into account then me?’,I am your boyfriend not him!’
‘I never said he was.’
‘Then why are you in his arms?’
‘Wait, what?’ You asked in shock.
‘I saw the video, don’t play dumb.’ He hissed.
‘Don’t you dare call me dumb!’ You threatened, ‘ And he was hugging me for fixing the shirt!
‘And a simple pat on the back couldn’t seal the deal? He had to have his hands all over you?’
You snapped at what was happening, ‘So you are jealous?’
‘Oh please, you only act like this when I get more attention from another male. You fight with me for nothing until you realise that you are being stupid.’
In quick steps he had you pinned against the wall, ‘Stupid? How am I stupid one?’
‘B-because you are being jealous for no reason.’ She gulped.
‘Oh sweetheart, I am a man and I don’t like sharing.’ His deep voice resinated through your ears, ‘I am a selfish man when it comes to you, you belong to me and no one else.’
‘Jungkook…’ You said breathlessly.
‘You aren’t dumb, that I know.’ He whispered, ‘I am sorry for call you that, but I am not sorry for what is going to come next….’
Request: Can I make a request for Newt where he is your best friend but he starts to ignore you after he meets Tina. You realize that you are in love with him but you stay quiet about it and don’t say anything until the fight against Graves you jump in front of Newt to save him from Graves’s spell and get really hurt and you think your going to die so you tell him that you love him. Can there be lots of angst but have a happy ending? Thank you!
A/n: This the longest imagine I think I have ever written, and just…oh my God
Warnings: Angst everywhere, mentions of blood, pain, rejection, fighting, broken hearts, basically angst on top of angst on top of angst, and a smidge of fluff of course (Also the plot ties in with the events of Fantastic Beasts, but a few parts may be a bit different)
The sky above was dusted over with a hazy gray, the kind that mimicked smoke in your lungs or ashes falling from the sky. Crashes and screams echoed throughout the broken streets of New York, while most of the Muggle or No-Maj community was out and about, hollering against the display of witchcraft. You spun around, trying to find Newt, until you realized that you had become separated from his presence during some of the attacks throughout the city. You sprinted over some fallen bricks and rubble, only losing your footing once or twice. Your wand rested in your hand at the ready as you maneuvered through the chaotic streets with your coat billowing behind you.
The trip to New York was not at all as you had imagined it to go. You had been traveling with your best friend Newt, as you were helping him to release Frank, the Thunderbird the two of you rescued back in Egypt, to the wilds of Arizona. You had both only anticipated to stop here shortly, however after the escapades with the Niffler, a No-Maj, and MACUSA, your time of departure had been delayed.
You had known the clever Magizoologist since your days at Hogwarts, and since you two were both labeled as the “peculiar type,” both of your personalities fit together like puzzle pieces, and he was more than happy to have someone as his friend. You did everything together. You found creatures in the forest together, went to Hogsmeade together, even snuck out past dark out of the castle grounds a few times together. The friendship that you each shared was beyond perfect, except for the fact that you had wanted to be more.
The feelings that you developed towards him grew fonder after you found one another after his expulsion, as you had both kept in touch through written letters and little photographs of adventures you were having while separate. After Hogwarts, you met with him in person for a drink of tea, and he was still the same remarkable Hufflepuff who possessed an undying love for the creatures of the world. However, he did appear quite different, as his hair had grown longer and fluffed out more, covering his twinkling eyes a bit, and his body had grown much taller, broader, and stronger since his teenage years. His freckles still splattered like stars in the night across his face, and his pearly white smile still shined, but he was clearly much older now. When he met eyes with you as you walked through the tiny shop, he rushed towards you to engulf you into a hug to make up for all the ones you couldn’t share while you were both away from one another. You giggled slightly against his chest as he retracted a bit and ushered you to sit down with him. That day you caught up on everything that you had each encountered during the last few years. He asked how everything at Hogwarts went while you asked him how he was doing with the creatures he mentioned in his letters, to which he replied at first with a gentle nervous smile.
“Actually, I’m trying to write a book about creatures, you know, to get people to see them differently,” he spoke with a passion infused sparkle in his eyes.
You paused as you swallowed your tea, nearly choking in in shock, “Merlin’s beard Newt that’s incredible!”
“Yes, in a sense it is,” he paused as a blush rose onto his cheeks, “and I’m set to leave for Asia in a week to study some of the various regions there.”
Your face fell slightly as you brought your eyes to look back into your mug. You had just gotten to see your best friend again, and he was already leaving you? Newt nervously looked at his own mug too, afraid to cut the silence with what he was about say.
“B-but I wanted to also ask if you wanted to accompany me. You don’t have to say yes of course, I don’t want you have to change your life or job, but I wanted to ask because you’re one of the most important people in my life right now, and well, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.”
You stared at him, eyes wide with shock and confusion once more. His hands fiddled with one another as he now awaited your response while silently hoping he hadn’t been too abrupt with asking. You two were close sure, but he was practically asking you to run away across the world with him.
However, you already knew your answer, and with a smile sprouting on both of your faces, you were ready to see what the world held in store for you as you stood by his side.
But that was ages ago of course. You paused to catch your breath behind a wall of a fallen building with your wand still pointed out in defense. A few beads of sweat formed across your forehead as tears also began to threaten to fall. You were strong, but with everything collapsing and crumbing around you, it was difficult to keep yourself from doing it yourself as well.
You were alone in a breaking city that you had only known for a brief amount of time, and yet so much had changed. You doubted that Newt was even concerned about where you were, as you hadn’t even spoken much to one another since you had arrived off the boat and into the crisp air of the American city. Everything had been different since he had met her.
When you had both first met the woman, she had tried to have you both turned in to MACUSA for possessing beasts, but soon after, Newt had begun to spend more and more time with her as opposed to with you. Neither of them knew how you felt, and you weren’t exactly ready to scream it out to the world yet.
If someone were to ask you if you loved Newt, you would simply nod, but finish it off with the addition of “but as a friend.” Yet on the inside, your heart would pound and flutter at the sight of his smile or flip at the sound of his voice, for you had hopelessly fallen in love with your best friend from your childhood. At first, it was a small scale infatuation, a simple desire towards the man with the bowtruckles and the graphorns, but with the more places you visited and the more adventures you had together, it was as if you had been stolen back in time to your days at Hogwarts. You would watch his face light up in excitement in the moonlight while following a group of dragons or smile at the way his hair would fluff up after a night of sleep. But his looks of course were not the reason you had fallen, as his intelligent and caring demeanor along with his gentle compassion were what really attracted you. He wasn’t like some of the other men you had been with, and he wasn’t the type to brag about what he had accomplished either. He was like the air of a spring meadow, sweet, soft, and free spirited. Newt was the type to hug and comfort you when you were sad or scared, which he did often, as he wanted you to know that you were safe within the walls of his case. Newt was the type to put everyone else, including the creatures, above himself and this was especially evident when he would try and go for long periods of time without eating or sleeping. Newt overall, was the epitome of a golden heart.
But with the way he looked at Tina, you couldn’t tell him how you felt, and this ate you up inside. You longed to just throw yourself into his arms and tell him how you felt, that he was amazing and incredible, despite his negative thoughts of self-loathing. You wanted to kiss him passionately and tell him how much he meant to you, but that day would never come, not as long as she was in the picture.
You saw how he stared at her as you both sat at the table of the Goldstein apartment, you saw how he followed her inside of the Blind Pig like a lost lamb, just wanting to be closer to her. He had exchanged more words and thoughts with her as opposed to you, and you told yourself that you wouldn’t get jealous, but you couldn’t help it. The way he lovingly gazed at her made you want to shred your heart into a million pieces. You wanted to cry and scream into the night, but you could not be selfish. You had to be there for your best friend, even if you weren’t happy for their relationship entirely.
You hadn’t even noticed that a tear had finally slipped down your cheek as your lungs filled with smoke from the world around you. You brought your hands up to your chest and slowly sunk down into the cracked pavement. You knew that it was selfish to cry about yourself right now when so much was going on, but you couldn’t stop the sobs from ravaging through your body and rattling your bones. Your tears stung like fire and your sobs echoed through the corridor. Your broken heart shattered and mixed with the sounds of breaking glass wound you.
What you wanted, you couldn’t have, and there was nothing you could do about it. It was as if a hundred knifes were taking turns stabbing into your flesh and heart, trapping you in a cloud of suffering and forgotten loneliness.
You were about to allow another round of crying ensue, but a black cloud swarmed through the air above you, spiraling into some of the buildings until it disappeared. Newt had told you about his encounter with something similar to this, and you could only draw one word from your mind.
If anything, that is where Newt would be, where the obscurus was. You grabbed your wand off the ground and broke into a sprint once more as you headed back out into the battlefield of what was once New York.
You found yourself in what appeared to be some sort of station, or what was left of it at least. Railing and bricks were strewn about, and angry yelling echoed throughout the walls. You were about to step out into the open, but a beam of light hurled towards you, causing you to back behind a wall and mutter a spell of defense.
When you turned you saw who you knew as Graves, the older man from MACUSA whom you met when Tina dragged you in, spitting various spells under his breath towards Tina and Newt. Anger overcame your body, and you whipped your wand towards him.
“Stupefy!” you yelled, only to have the spell blocked as the sinister graves turned around.
“Y/N!” you heard another familiar voice call, and you saw Newt rushing towards you while firing spells back at Graves. Sweat beaded across his face and his features were dimly highlighted in the light radiating from the underground lamps. When he finally reached you, he was out of breath and tears pooled in his eyes. He reached onto you, pulling your body towards him as he panted.
“Merlin, Y/n I thought you were dead! I went back looking for you when you weren’t behind me and oh Merlin I was so worried,” he spoke, but was soon cut off by Tina alerting him, as Graves had directed yet another spell towards where you were. Newt instinctively shielded you from it while you both muttered spells to counteract with the one that Graves had shot off.
“I didn’t think you still cared,” you mumbled and you hoped he hadn’t heard, but of course to your dismay, he had. He directed his attention toward you as you both still defended yourselves, along with Tina, from the wrath of Graves.
“What are you talking about? Of course I do Y/n, you’re the most important person to me, how could I not care!?”
“Well you’ve been busy with you know, Tina and everything and,” you halted your conversation as you deflected another spell before sending one of your own, “I’m not that…Newt look out!”
You screamed as you saw a bright bolt of light spew towards Newt. There wouldn’t be enough time to say a spell to save your skins, and there wouldn’t be time for him or Tina to either. You took in the surroundings one last time before you shoved newt slightly, allowing yourself to be in front of his own body, so that you could take the hit. A searing pain sent wavelengths through your body that shook your core, and before you knew it you were on the ground.
You were so caught up by the pain in your abdomen that you hadn’t even noticed a few aurors come in for assistance, but you did notice when Newt fell to your side with tears clouding his vision.
“Y/n why would you do that!? Merlin you’re hurt. Y/n love come on stay with me! Y-you can do it, p-please Y/n stay with me, I’ll help you, and I’ll fix you!” he screamed, but it was more towards himself. He wanted to protect you, not the other way around, and now here you were, and he was kicking himself for not doing anything. It was his fault that you were like this.
Tears cascaded down your scratched cheeks as you tried to sit up but failed. Newt’s hands lowered you back down as he constantly checked back around or the chaos. He needed to be out there, but he needed you to be okay more. Graves was currently speaking to the aurors as they had their wands at the ready for any sudden movement. A whimper left your lips as you cried out in pain like an injured creature. You reached a hand down to cover your wound, only to see that blood now coated your paling skin.
Newt’s eyes widened as he tried to scan his brain for a spell that would work. You couldn’t leave, he needed you, he needed you more than he needed air. You were a part of him, and without you, surely he would fade into darkness.
Sobs now tried to take over his body as he desperately tried to save you.
“Y/n I’m going to help you. I’ll make you better, and I’ll save you love,” he raised his wand to murmur a spell, but he was silenced when you held his wrist and gently pulled his wand down.
“N-Newt, no spell can save me. I think that my time is now.” You whispered. Newt grabbed your hand while still trying to stop the blood from flowing onto the shards of pavement around you.
“Y/n d-d-don’t say that. I can fix you, and I’ll make you better I promise.”
“Newt,” you brought your hands to his face and wiped tears away from his deep ocean eyes which were now flooded with worry and sadness. He didn’t care about what was going on behind him, he only needed you, “You’re an incredible wizard, and you have so much left to do. I want, I want you to finish your book for me okay.” Tears trickled out of your eyes as you grew more and more faint.
“Y/n no I am not letting you die!” he shouted as his whole body began to shake.
“You have to let me go, besides you’ll have Tina.”
“But I need you too!”
“Newt, I want you to listen to me,” you paused as he stayed silent besides a few small whimpers escaping from his mouth, “I-I love you, and I w-would never have told you this, but seeing as I won’t be here anymore, I needed to tell you. I love you, Newt Scamander. I love you, much more than as a friend. You’re an incredible man, and I’m sure you’ll be happy without me. Now you can be with Tina, you can be happy.”
His face was ghost white, as even more tears flooded like a storm down his face. His cries became more audible, further displaying how much pain he was enduring. His heart was breaking and bursting into unfixable pieces. It was not Tina he loved, he thought she was kind and wonderful, but it was you his heart wanted.
“Don’t you understand, I don’t want Tina, I want you!” he pulled you into his arms and cradled your body now, “I-I have loved you since that d-ay, that day in c-charms class. The day where you performed what the professor said was the most difficult t-to master, but you did it because you’re incredible and talented. I wanted to tell you how I felt all these years but I didn’t think you would want me because, because…”
“Newt, I love you.”
You then slipped into a darkness as the pain continued to sear through you, and your mind faded against the sound of Newt’s sobbing and panicking as he held your body closer to his heart, a heart that could have loved you if he hadn’t harbored his feelings.
Your head swirled around like a murky puddle as you awoke inside of a room you shared with Newt at the Goldstein residence. Slowly, you sat up, only to be reacquainted with a stabbing pain in your torso. With a slight hiss, you looked down to see a bandage where blood had once poured out. The last thing you remembered was becoming familiar with the feeling of an eternal sleep and confessing to Newt.
Speaking of Newt, you turned slightly to avoid damaging your injuries further and saw that he was stiffly sat in a chair near the end of your bed. His hair was all over the place, as if Frank had ruffled it again, and his face rested in his hands. His coat was shed to reveal his wrinkled shirt and waistcoat with a few of the buttons sloppily undone.
“N-Newt,” you called barely above a whisper, yet the wizard still perked up at the sound.
When you saw his face, streaks of tears lined his face and his complexion was far more red and worried than usual. He stared back at you with wide eyes and disbelief, as if you were a phantom come back to the earth.
“Y-Y/n!” he said as he scuffled to his feet to be closer to where you were. His voice sounded as if he were sick, but it was from his constant hours of heartbroken crying that followed the events that had previously occurred. He enveloped your hand in his tightly in fear of losing you to death’s own grip once more.
“I’m so sorry that this happened love. How are you feeling? Are you still in pain? What-,”
“Newt, shh, you’re becoming overwhelmed again, and yes I’m okay, you tried to calm him down as his mind raced at a million miles an hour. He broke into a fit of tears once more as he collapsed to his knees and buried his face into your blanket covered chest.
He sniffled between his words, “I, Merlin, I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you. It’s all my fault love. I should have protected you, you shouldn’t have had to take the blame,” you wove your fingers throughout his curls as he continued, “I-I need you Y/n, I tried to fix you up as best as I could inside the case, and you matter so much to me. I am so, so sorry that I ignored you, and I swear on my life that I had no intention to. I l-love you Y/n and I should have treated you better. I’m so sorry that you’re hurt and it’s a-all my f-fault.”
You sighed and tried to comfort the broken man, “Newt, it’s okay. I didn’t think I was going to make it but you saved me.”
He looked up at you with eyes that spilled over with pain as he pulled the blanket closer to you so that you could stay warm.
You spoke once more, but softer this time, “And I love you Newt, I just thought that you would only see me as a friend.”
“Y/n, I’d rather lose my life than live one without you in it. You are by far the most amazing person in my life, and I love you. M-May I…” he trailed off. You knew what he was asking for, you didn’t need him to finish his sentence.
You leaned in with a slight nod as you pressed your lips against his. He tenderly kissed your swollen lips as his own rough ones moved with yours. He pulled you closer with his firm hands, but was gentle not to hurt where your injury laid. Years of forbidden passion erupted between the two of you, as both of you had locked away your feelings for far too long. You entangled your hands within his locks once more as he deepened the kiss. He tasted sweet like honey yet was still crisp like an apple, and he smelled like the earthy soil and fallen leaves. A small moan came from his throat as you brushed your hand against the stubble of his cheeks. His warmth radiated off of him as yours did, creating a bubble of protectiveness and security around you two. When he finally broke the kiss so that you could each catch your breath, he stared at you with absolute admiration. You shifted over carefully in the bed and placed your hand next to you, inviting him to come in and cuddle you. He didn’t hesitate, and he snuggled next to you with his arms firmly around your body. He placed a protective kiss to the top your head.
“I love you Y/n, and I’ll never let you go, never again.”
aaron had wished for robert to die once, as he’d knelt outside the woolpack, trying to stem the blood flowing from the bullet hole in his chest. now he was doing it all over again, robert’s life in his hands as his husband bled out in the dirt at the side of the road.
an entirely inaccurate fic about robert being the one who gets stabbed next week.
Aaron doesn’t really remember how it happened.
One minute, they were riding high on their win over Ross, and the next they were face to face with drug dealers. They should have left, there and then, they should have gotten into the car and drove, as far away from Ross, and Finn, and the dealers, but they didn’t.
No, they didn’t.
It was some sort of twisted loyalty to the brothers, maybe, a sense of obligation to their neighbours. Or maybe it was just something innately good, in the two of them, that they’d stayed, tried to calm the situation.
It’s cliche, Aaron knows, but it was all a blur. One second, they were fighting, yelling, Aaron’s heart in his mouth as he held tightly to Robert’s elbow, torn between getting back into the car and running, and wanting to stop it before it got out of hand, and the next he was on his knees in a country lane, trying to stop his husband from bleeding out in the dirt.
He’d been here before.
Aaron would never forget the night Robert was shot. The terror of it all, the sickening fear he’d felt in his stomach as he’d knelt, pressing a cardigan to an open wound on Robert’s chest.
He’d hated him then. God, Aaron had hated him then. Every breath Robert took, every word that had fallen from Robert’s smarmy mouth, he’d hated it all, hated every inch of Robert fucking Sugden, the one person that had always found a way to worm his way back into Aaron’s life.
He’d almost wanted him to die, that night by the Woolpack.
Maybe - maybe it made Aaron a terrible person, to admit it, but at least he was honest. He’d hated Robert then, for hurting him, for making him feel as though he wasn’t worth it, that he wasn’t worth being someone first choice.
Aaron had carried that hatred, the pain, every day since the reveal.
Every second of every day, he hated Robert.
Robert dying that night, well - Aaron had thought it would be the end of his pain. It would have been a way out, a way of moving on, a way of falling out of love with Robert, something Aaron knew, even then, he’d never be able to do.
But if he’d died that night, Aaron would never have been able to love Robert the way he did now, wholeheartedly, absolutely, he’d never have gotten to be married to him, to build a life with Robert.
Aaron couldn’t imagine, losing Robert now.
And yet here he was, pressing a hoodie to an open wound on Robert’s stomach, desperately trying to stem the oozing blood flow.
It felt too familiar.
It felt like the end.
“Robert, t-talk to me,” Aaron said desperately, his voice shaking as he spoke. “Hey, Robert, talk to me.”
Robert’s face was screwed up in pain as Aaron pressed against the wound, his skin deathly pale. “Hurts,” he mumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Aaron, it hurts.”
“I know, I know,” Aaron desperately wanted to run a hand through Robert’s hair, to comfort him the way he knew how, his husband the more tactile one of the two of them, the one who needed forehead kisses and lingering hugs.
But he couldn’t move his hands.
If he moved his hands, Robert would die.
Aaron wanted to be sick, as he looked down at Robert’s stomach. Blood was soaking through Aaron’s hoodie, staining the grey material a horrific red colour. It was too thin, it wasn’t enough -
“Give me your jacket,” Aaron demanded, looking over his shoulder at Ross. “Now, Ross.”
“He was the one who named her. Amidst the chaos of her mother’s death, Xander did something no one else expected him to do — he picked up the wailing child and held her until she had no more tears left to shed.”
The mother of all marches: Photos of anti-government protests that stormed Venezuela streets
Two Venezuelan students and a National Guard sergeant were shot dead on Wednesday (19 April) during protests against the unpopular leftist President Nicolas Maduro, increasing turmoil in the volatile nation amid a devastating economic crisis.
Hundreds of thousands of people flooded the streets of Caracas and other Venezuelan cities to denounce Maduro, in what has been dubbed as “the mother of all marches” against the embattled socialist leader. Over 400 people were arrested during according to rights group Penal Forum. Tens of thousands of protesters made an unsuccessful attempt to march to downtown Caracas as security forces fired tear gas and rubber bullets into the crowd. Dozens had to slide down a concrete embankment and into the Guaire River to escape the noxious fumes.
The three deaths mean that eight people have now been killed since the protests in Venezuela began three weeks ago, over the Supreme Court’s decision to strip the opposition-controlled Congress of its last remaining powers – a move that was later reversed but not before enraging the opposition and causing a storm of international criticism. The charges that Venezuela is moving toward a full-blown dictatorship come against the backdrop of an ever-deepening economic crisis.
The opposition attributed both deaths to groups known as “colectivos,” armed government supporters who are frequently accused of involvement in confrontations during protests.
Maduro supporters held a counter-demonstration in the capital. Addressing the cheering crowd red-shirted crowd in Caracas, the president declared that a “corrupt and interventionist right-wing” had been defeated. “Today the people stood by Maduro!” the president said, blasting his rivals as “anti-Christs.” “We’ve triumphed again! Here we are, governing, governing, governing with the people!” he added, before breaking into song and dance. The opposition believe that he has morphed into a dictator and accuses his government of using armed civilians to spread violence and fear.
Opposition leader Henrique Capriles has called for another protest on Thursday (20 April), raising the specter of prolonged disruption in Venezuela. “Same place, same time,” said opposition leader Henrique Capriles on Wednesday night. “If we were millions today, tomorrow we’ll be more.”
Venezuela benefited for years from oil-fueled consumption and many poor citizens rose into the middle class. But the 2014 collapse in oil prices left the government unable to maintain a complex system of subsidies and price controls. Snaking grocery lines are now a common sight and people routinely say they skip meals and cannot find basic medication.
Further spurring outrage was a decision by the national comptroller’s office earlier this month to disqualify opposition politician Capriles from holding office for 15 years, dashing his hopes for the presidency. The elections council, which is sympathetic to the government, has delayed votes for state governors that were supposed to take place last year.
Request: I’M SO HAPPY REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I have a Jimin scenario request when y/n is an idol and she does a a special dance stage with J-Hope(like slow dancing) and Jimin gets very jealous and y/n tries to calm him down because there is nothing going on between J-Hope and her. Btw, Jimin and y/n are dating! Thank you! ♥
Genre: Romance / Drama.
-So… have you told Jimin?- Hoseok asked when you two were taking a break from the dance practice which you did at your company’s facility and not in Big Hit.
-Ugh, stop making it sound like we are having an affair- you laughed after making a disgusted face at Hoseok who looked offended for a few seconds and then laughed as well. -You are like my brother or something-
-You are the gross one thinking about affairs, I’m just being a good friend, and believe me, I know Jimin, he’d would…-
You sighed. -I know what Jimin would do, but this time he’d have to calm down and just accept that I’m dancing with another guy, it’s just work-
Hoseok sighed. -You want me to tell him?-
-What? No! Oh god, he’d be here all the time, he’d try to find a way to stop the performance all together and that can’t happen, I need this, ok? It’s the first time they offered me doing a special stage like this, so I want to do it-
Hoseok stared at you and then exhaled in resignation. -I think we should just tell him, this choreo is after all a bit…-
You bit your lip thinking about it, the choreography was really sexy, there were parts of the song where you danced alone but for most of it you two had to do it together and the physical contact would be a lot to say the least.
Being idols Jimin and you knew that things like this could happen, on both sides you were conscious that maybe one day you would be doing something not that innocent with another person for the performance’s sake, but you also knew your boyfriend and how he hated guys touching you too much, so you could guess how he was going to react when he saw you with one of his best friends.
Hoseok was picked for this by the producer, you two had tried to change so it was Jimin instead of the rapper, but the staff told you that it was impossible since they wanted specifically Hoseok on the stage.
-I know you don’t want to create trouble between you, but this dance is important to me-
-And you don’t think he’d understand if you explain it? He’s a nice guy our Jiminie, if explained nicely he’d understand-
-Well, I will just tell him that we are doing a special stage and nothing else, so even if he insists you can’t tell him what we are dancing-
Hoseok scratched the back of his head looking uncomfortable. -I feel like a bad friend-
You arched a brow. -Have you forgotten about the song we are going to perform? Besides you are a great friend, don’t say that-
-Oh fuck it, he’d set a scandal before he let us dance that- Hoseok said sighing yet again. -This performance better end up good, and I hope this ends in BTS and you twice popular than before and not in me being punched in the face by my dongsaeng-
You bumped fists as you laughed at that. -He wouldn’t do that, I think-