bring the war home

anonymous asked:

I tend to think that Qui-Gon realised that his and Obi-Wan's partnership was meant to be the day Obi-Wan brought back a Pathetic Lifeform of his own. Like say it's chucking it down on some world where they are and Obi-Wan hears this pathetic mewling and it's this sodden cat and he keeps it close to him all day (inside his robes, maybe inside his hood like he's seen Qui-Gon do to the PLs) and Qui-Gon lights up when he sees what Obi-Wan has brought back to their quarters

Qui-Gon: Sounds fake but okay ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Obi-Wan: Master NO

His Padawan’s learning. He’s so proud.

Newt Scamander Masterlist

You bring me home (War Series): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Daddy Series: Start | Next Day | Tease | Praise | Beg | Dirty talk

Mermaid Series: Version 1 | Version 2

Modern AU Series: Part 1 | Part 2

Princess Series (DISCONT): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Prompts: 6, 62, 65 | 93 | 52 | 78 | 54 | 80 | 10 | 15, 93, 97 | 73 | 38

Angst: Wife dies during childbirth | Second choice | Heartbroken | Infertile | Pay attention | Stillborn | Sick Newt | Sulky Newt | It ain’t me | Comfort me | Happier | Leave me | Fight | Newt saying goodbye | Break up | Rejection

Smut/Risqué: Virgin Reader | Gin & Tonic | Blow Job | Doggy Style | Newt Kinks | Taking Virginity | Tattooed Reader | Lipstick | Frisky Newt | French | Catching Reader | Seduction | Frisky Reader | Lip Bite | Spanking | Morning After | Back Dimples | Eat Out | Morning surprise | Catching Newt | Riding Newt’s thigh | Distracted | Drunk Newt | Flirty Newt | Skirt | Jealous | Overexcited | Needy Newt | Thigh Riding | Settle down | Restraining Newt | Virgin Newt | Horny Newt | Wedding Night | Lingerie | Facesitting | Striptease | Orgasm in pants | Lake Sex | Wand | Newt giving oral | Newt Kinks 2 | Wearing Newt’s shirt | Rough Newt | Rough Newt | Legilimency | Shower Sex | Curvy Reader | Newt Undressing | Dirty Talking Newt | Bothering Newt | Love Bite | Secrets

Fluff: Beloved Pet | Wedding | Cuddling | Sleeping | Piggy Back | Hold hands | Hugs | I love you | Bath | Interruption | Freezing Feet | Shave | Giggly | Telling | Attention | Sleeping with creatures | Pregnant | Pajama Pants | Cuddling Reader | Curvy | Dancing | Yule Ball | Birthday | Flowers | Awkward Newt | Honeymoon | Welcoming Daughter | Scent | Newt as a father | So close | Picnic | Sick Reader | Goodnight Kisses | First sight | Wishes | Falling for you, literally | Cake | Stuffed animal | Kisses | With worry | Beautiful | Present | New Years Kiss | Picture imagine | Insecurities | Falling for you | Drunk Kisses | Short Reader | Injured Reader | Dating Newt | Lovingly yours | I’ll be waiting

General: Impress me | Professor Reader | Make up artist | Newt with a dog | Temper tantrums | Student Newt | Baby wont stop crying | Piano | Body swap (Newtina) | False alarm | Catching reader undressing | First Steps | Slapping Newt | Slytherin Newt | Morning Sickness | Shrooms | Tired Newt | Drawing Newt | Anxiety | Glasses | Gatsby Party | Crushing | Comfort | Friendly advice | Want a baby | Drunk reader | Helping with nightmares | Vampire Reader | Pining Newt | Injured Child | Arranged | Baby Blues | Deaf Reader | Test | Adopt | Singer Reader | Play fighting | Bad Niffler | Pollen | Theseus Imagine | Sick baby | Surprise Twins | Father Newt | Dancer Reader | Artist reader | Jealous Newt | Sing | Storm | Bondage | Newt as a drunk | Mating Dance | Ravenclaw Bestfriend | Robber | Cowgirl | Saving you | Criminal | Basket Baby | Stow away

grimfiendfyre  asked:

Continuing my headcanon that Lance's mom uses cheesy pick up lines on his dad throughout their 30+ years of marriage, imagine after the war when Lance brings home Keith (his fiance cause they are going to get married, fight me) Lance's dad sees Lance using a chessy pick up line on Keith who is blushing like crazy as Lance leaves to go talk to his mom. And Lance's dad just goes up to Keith and puts a hand on his shoulder and is like "I know how you feel, it's easier to just accept your fate now"

BLESS

bringing the war home (a series for the women of the mcu)

depends on where you’re standing
(a sharon carter story)

Some aunts take you to mass, but Sharon’s took her to the shooting range. 

Sharon Carter grew up knowing the feel of bullets in her fingers, not rosaries. She learned Mandarin, German and Japanese, not Latin, because Latin was a dead language and Sharon, even at eight, knew her work would be for the living. 

all things to all people all of the time
(a natasha romanoff story)

The Winter Soldier did not leave witnesses, but he had left her by that cliff outside of Odessa. Was Natasha an exception? Or did she not count as a witness? Had he looked at her and seen the same black button eyes reflected back at him, the on/off switch, the tick of clockwork?

Years later, Natasha watched the Soldier slam into the freeway concrete. The bullet holes in her abdomen had healed, and she knew this thing did not consider itself a person.

They were animate objects, both of them, useless in the witness stand. He hadn’t pulled the car transmission out, after all, hadn’t stripped the cell phone in the victim’s pocket, or shot up the rocks at the side of that road outside Odessa. He hadn’t shot her. He had left her there, breathing, and the Winter Soldier didn’t leave witnesses.

On cold nights, Natasha dreamed of ballerinas: porcelain, exquisite, their ribs jutting out stark under their skin.

that’s my official statement
(a maria hill story) (podfic here!)

The helicarrier rumbled under her feet and Fury ran a fond hand along one metal wall, like Coulson did with that car of his, the way Sharon stood in the Triskelion and nearly glowed. 

Fury called it cancer once, after Loki’s attack was over, once Barton was back in the fold and New York saved. Maria kept in step behind him as Fury walked the helicarrier halls, reviewed the damage, as he mourned.

“No, sir,” she said. “Just war.”

on the verge of understanding something extraordinary
(a jane foster story)

“Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too.

my heart has no place in this
(a lady sif story)

Sif put on her armor in cold mornings and thought, “Once I wished for this.” What did she wish for now?

No matter. She was tired. She was mourning. But she could imagine no life but this. Any other life would make her pale and fade. This one made her burn, iron at the heart of a flame, the heart of a star, and she could imagine no other way worth living.

i am not dying for six college credits
(a darcy lewis story)

On a stormy desert night, a roaring giant of a man turned to Darcy Lewis and she tasered him in the chest.

She didn’t hesitate, wince, or apologize.

If you don’t want to get electrocuted by a civilian Midgardian, don’t charge at her on a dark and stormy night. Dangerous things come in small packages.

You’d think Loki’s brother would know that—but, ah, yes, back then Thor still had a lot to learn.

let the girl go
(a melinda may story)

The Cavalry once killed twenty men with a single pistol, they say.

Or maybe it was fifty.

The Cavalry once killed a hundred men, they say, on other days, around other campfires, these future agents of SHIELD, these gossipy children. On horseback, they tell the freshmen, and snicker. A hundred men.

The number trips off the tongue. The methods vary, the numbers, and they all trip off the tongue easily—what is twenty dead villains? A hundred? A good day’s work. We’re the heroes, after all.

Fifty, twenty, a hundred—they’re all just syllables. All just sizes of victories, not a careful count of gasping faces.

The Cavalry killed twenty—fifty—a hundred men, and Melinda May saw the light go out of each of them.

As a child, Melinda used to steal the plastic lid off the kitchen trash can, mount it on one arm, and charge out into the backyard to save the world with her plastic shield.

i made a name for myself
(another natasha romanoff story)
(incorporates age of ultron)

Clint taught his kids handstands and cartwheels from his circus days. They play-wrestled in the grass until Cooper decided he was done with this whole physical contact thing, or until they knocked Clint’s hearing aids out.

Natasha taught the kids to throw knives into fence posts, and pretended those skills were from a circus or lazy country summer days, too.

about damn time
(a story for hope van dyne)

Hope van Dyne was scared of heights from age seven onwards. The first time she had to get on a plane (age ten), she sat stony-faced, staring out the window, not looking at her father, the half-moons of her nails biting deep into her chubby palms. When she was thirteen years old, she asked her father for flying lessons.

That should have been her first hint, that when she asked for flying lessons for her birthday, he did not automatically realize this was about her mother. 

But perhaps– perhaps even if it had been true, the airplane crash, perhaps her father still would not have understood. He was not the kind of man who found the things he feared most, tracked them down, and then slew them with their own poison.

i can tell the difference
(a story for laura barton)

Laura hadn’t fallen for Clint first; she had been struck first, though. And, yes, she had heard all the possible jokes about Cupid and his arrows, thank you very much for your contribution.

But it was still true: she hadn’t fallen first. Laura had been struck, first, curious about this boy—distracted, rumpled, so very human—and his perfect, perfect aim. You don’t get perfect marksmanship by being born with it.

Laura sat forward the first time she saw him, this circus kid who gulped from a stained coffee cup before stumbling onstage and proceeding to take eighteen perfect shots, with three different bows, four of them without even looking.

Laura leaned forward. These things were not gifts.

everybody is afraid of something
(a story for wanda maximoff)

In an open-air cafe in Lagos, Nigeria, Wanda had close-bitten, black-painted nails. She put real sugar in her coffee. When she said we, these days, she did not always mean Pietro. But, sometimes, she did. 

  • tg: re :*mentions Hide*
  • me: *intense stare.*
  • tg: re :*simply moves on. Hide is once again consumed by the void*
  • me: FUCKING KIDDING!?
Masterlist

Imma try this a different way so here goes!!!

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Have a meme battle with you

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BTS:

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Eternally Damned- Kris Wu- Teaser Pt.1 Pt.2

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Vernon:

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Hopefully I update the masterlist very soon.

anonymous asked:

Cassian surprises Jyn by asking her to fake being his fiancee to get his fanclub off his back. Jyn tries to enjoy as long as it lasts not knowing that Cassian is doing the same. Any headcanons?

i’m placing this in the canon universe because can you imagine?

  • so cassian is a pretty hot commodity around the rebel base. he’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing working for him mixed with the mysteriousness of being an intelligence officer. basically, half of the new recruits that come to the rebellion wind up having the hots for cassian (can we blame them, honestly)
  • that’s BEFORE he comes back from scarif, having helped provide the rebellion with priceless intel. cassian’s a hero with a rather intense fanclub made up of pilots and soldiers searching for something outside of war and death to focus on. he gets it, sort of. 
  • but it gets to be a little much after the fifth time a new recruit slips him a note with the combination to their bunk. cassian’s just blowing off steam to jyn one day when it slips out:
  • “if they thought i was married or engaged or something, maybe they’d leave me alone, y’know?”
  • “are…are you asking me to…?”
  • cassian wasn’t, really, but now he’s thinking about it – it would be sort of perfect. after all, as kaytoo has mentioned, something like a third of the base thinks they’re already dating (a fact that cassian tries not to think too hard about)
  • “would you?” he asks
  • jyn pauses for a good thirty seconds and cassian definitely wants to take it back because she’s the closest thing he’s got to family and he doesn’t want to lose – “yes,” she says, “for you, i would.”
  • they figure telling bodhi, baze, and chirrut will get the news circulating the fastest, and it works. by lunch, people are congratulating them. kay says there’s a 36.8% chance that one of them will die before the wedding and princess leia personally offers best wishes
  • cassian tries really, really hard to ignore the warmth that blooms in his chest when he introduces jyn as his fiancee and the way his heart speeds up when jyn grabs his arm while they’re walking to and from meetings
  • he was right: his fanclub doesn’t bother him anymore, but now there are other things getting in the way of day-to-day life. namely, jyn erso and that little smile on her face whenever someone brings up their “engagement”
Types as Things My Upstairs Neighbors Do At 3 AM

INTJ: Waterboarding their enemies in their interrogation room
ENTJ: Botching a peace treaty with the rival gang across the the hall
INFP: Fifty Shades of Gray scenes
ENFP: Having an orgy with a barn full of animals
ISTJ: Building an indoor skatepark
ESTJ: Reenactment of the Civil War
ISFP: Bringing home all the shelter dogs
ESFP: Opening night at their in-home strip club
INTP: Blowing up their kitchen meth lab
ENTP: Impromptu bowling using metal chairs as pins and a tube tv as a ball
ISFJ: Sleeping like NORMAL PEOPLE
ESFJ: Drowning all of the neighborhood children
INFJ: Hosting an intervention
ENFJ: Taping a reality tv show
ISTP: Breakdancing in brick shoes
ESTP: Shredding the indoor skatepark

heatherlanntheclever  asked:

Is there any chance of a happy ending for the Lannisters? I know they are awful people but why develop their motivations and give each of them a genuine moment of compassion if they are just going to murder each other? Every other POV gets a moment of truth/redemption why not the children of Tywin/Patriarchy/Aerys and Disability? I'm a bad person myself so I need to believe the Lions can defy themselves and prophesy and overcome their nature or what's the point? Not all of us are born Starks.

Hey! So it’s gonna take me a few minutes to answer your question, but I promise I’m gonna get there.

In one of the other shows I watch, an actor commented on the banality of evil. He said that evil is something commonplace. Given the right circumstances, great acts of evil could be committed by your neighbors, or your friends, or you, or me. Because evil is so easy. “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” You needn’t be a monster like Gregor to commit evil; you need only be human. 

Keep reading

Head canon: Han and Leia never actually broke up.

Once they realized what was going on with Snoke manipulating Ben, they had to physically separate to prevent Snoke (and Kylo) from finding them and interfering further. But they were still very much married and they talked every. Single. Night.

When Han found the Falcon, he saw it as a sign from The Force, so he called Leia and told her: “ok. This is it. I’m coming back and we’re gonna bring Ben home.”

I just noticed the parallel between Rumple and Gideon...

Rumple became the Dark One in order to save Bae and bring the children home from the war. He was doing dark deeds for what he thought was a just cause, and it was, but the dark deeds didn’t stop there. Gideon wants to become the savior to free the Dark Realm from the Black Fairy. Rumple knows it won’t stop there, and that’s why he’s trying to keep his son from going through with it.

No Brother Left Behind

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

I am in love with this concept art piece for the Bad Batch arc (I seriously can’t stop staring at it), so I kinda had to write something to go along with it.

     Rex walked down a hallway to the medbay, oblivious to the men hurrying past him and the urgent shouts echoing from the hangar. All he heard was a voice. A low, monotone voice repeating the same phrase over and over again in his head.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     Even in death Echo could not be quieted.

     But Echo isn’t dead, Rex told himself. He couldn’t be. Tech said the signal transmitting the ARC trooper’s voice was live.

     While General Skywalker reported to the Jedi Council about the signal Tech discovered, Rex decided to visit Cody. He needed someone to talk to right now, someone to listen to the invasive thoughts gnawing away at his insides.

     He knew the explosion at the Citadel should have been too much for anyone to survive. However, Echo was both tough and stubborn; he’d hang on to life until he was certain his job was done. Must be a Domino trait, Rex figured, thinking of Fives and Hevy. But the amount of pain Echo must have been in… that he might still be in…

     Rex was right outside the medbay doors when he had second thoughts about visiting Cody. Kix would be there with questions about the rest of the mission, and Rex wasn’t up for discussing it with anyone but his closest friend just now. The next best option was to be alone, so he continued past door and circled back around to the hangar. The transport Crosshair stole was still parked at the end of the landing strip, unnoticed by the countless clones jogging back and forth, relaying and fulfilling orders. Rex put his helmet on and walked calmly through the chaos, confident no one would stop him.

     It only took him a few moments for him to familiarize himself with the controls before he guided the transport away from the landing strip and up out of the canyon, stopping right at the top of the canyon walls. He left the transport behind, walking further and further until he could barely see his ride through the thick, blocky trunks of the local flora.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     An image of Echo’s burnt and mangled body being dragged away by unfeeling Seppie clankers suddenly seared itself in Rex’s mind. Rage boiling in his stomach, he balled his fist and punched the nearest tree, grunting in frustration. Pain splintered through his hand, but he pushed it aside. No brother left behind. Each clone knew that was the number one rule of battle. But they didn’t even think to go back and check Echo’s body for a pulse.

     You couldn’t afford to go back and check, a voice in the back of his head reasoned. Rex turned and sank to the ground, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree he just bruised his hand on. We needed every single second we had to get out of the Citadel alive, he reminded himself. A ray of light broke through the clouds as they glided across the sky. Sunlight filtering through the coral treetop above tinged his battered armor a pale orange. The mission comes first. Echo knew that.

     Still, Rex couldn’t shake the guilt. Alive or not, Echo had been turned into a weapon against the Republic, against his own brothers. Rex knew too well how it felt to be used like that. He needed sleeping meds from Kix for weeks after the fiasco on Umbara. All of Torrent Company did. And nightmares of that night continued to plague him to this day.

     He rested his head in his hands, elbows propped up against his knees. Rex had to admit–if only to himself–that despite being bred for battle, the war was beginning to take a mental toll on him. First Umbara, then Ahsoka’s leaving, Fives losing his mind, and now Echo back from the dead… More and more often he found himself wondering if the victories would outweigh the losses in the end.

     “CT-1409… CT-1409… CT-1409…

     As he heard Echo’s voice in his head again, Rex grew angry, this time at his own pessimism. He got to his feet. Sulking around feeling sorry for himself would do nothing for Echo. What Echo needed now was action. Rex was going to the Skako system, with the Council’s permission or without it. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he simply moved on. He took a few steps away from the tree, facing toward a patch of light breaking through a cloudless stretch of sky in the distance. The curly tendrils growing from the almost luminescent treetops shivered in the faint breeze.

     “Hang in there, Echo,” Rex said softly, casting his gaze over the horizon. “We’re bringing you home.”

You bring me home (Part 8)-Newt war series

A/N: Here y'all are!!! Totally enjoying writing this. This chapter focuses on reader now. Next one will maybe see our lovers reunited….we shall see ;)

Originally posted by grysamobojcow


****

The walls shook, the old dust of the ceiling crumbling softly as bombs set off outside. The noise was something you grew accustomed to, and while you heard some screams coming down the hall, you merely reached for the cup next to you, holding it steady while the earth shifted around you. You slowly glanced around the makeshift room, frowning deeply at the sounds of bombs and gunshots going by. It was almost like clock work sometimes, the silent reverie you built up, now once again disturbed by the violence of war. With a agitated movement, you dropped the newspaper you were reading down and slowly let the cup go as the shaking began to subside. You waited a moment, thinking maybe someone would come running down the hall, screaming for help with this or that. But, when no other noises came you went back to reading, trying to distract yourself from the dark thoughts invading your mind.

With a flip of the page your features hardened, the numbers of deaths coming off the paper making you grit your teeth in anger and pain. It was clear to you, that any one of those numbers could be Newt. After all, weeks had gone by and no word from the soldier had come to you. You tried to stay positive, tried to tell yourself that he was simply lost, or injured somewhere with no way to reach you. But, those thoughts always led to dangerous territory, and you found yourself hurting all the more by the end of it.

A deep sigh escaped you, and you pushed the newspaper away in your moment of weakness as your throat began to tighten. The all too familiar feeling of grief coming over you, but you rose from your chair, quickly wiping at the tears that threatened to fall. Now was hardly the time for mourning. You walked over to the tint sink in the building, turning the knob and letting out an annoyed breath as the pipes shrieked and shook with overuse. The handles began to leak, a loud pop coming from the faucet as murky brown water sprayed out. It wasn’t an ideal situation, yet in this day and age it was all you could hope for. With little care for the color, you placed your hands under the weak stream of water splashing some of it on your face and washing away the tears. It served to ease your stress, if only for a moment because as you leaned back up footsteps came down the hallway.

You turned around, wiping your hands along your smock and smiling at Meredith as she leaned against the doorway. The nurse had a somber expression, but she tried her best to maintain her usual optimism.

“Thought you’d be sleeping.”

“Amidst all this chaos? Not a chance.”

She hummed in agreement, crossing her arms and picking at the dirt in her nails as she spoke. “Afraid I have some more bad news then.”

“More injured?”

Meredith smiled weakly at you, licking her chapped lips and nodding gently. “More injured.”

You lost count the number of times she had said this to you, but this was what you signed up for. Complaining was not something you could do, nor waste the time for.

“I’ll be right there.”

Meredith offered you a sympathetic look, and you could tell there was a hint of curiosity in her eyes. No doubt wondering about your sweetheart currently lost to you. She was the only person you had confided in, despite your usual private nature, this situation was something you couldn’t handle on your own. But, she didn’t press for details and certainly didn’t initiate any of the conversations about him. She let you take your time and come to her when needed. Just like now. She nodded and turned away, pace picking up as another boom resounded down the hall.

You collected yourself, took a deep breath, and hurried towards the outside where all the chaos ensued. As you edged down the hall the screams got louder, bullets now ricocheting off the equipment and vehicles parked outside. It was hell, and as you turned the corner of the broken down wall your eyes widened, an unbearable heat hitting your body. You squinted against the orange glow, gasping at the huge wall of fire that overtook the forest in the distance. Despite the fact that it was miles away, the heat was unlike anything you felt before.

“What weapon could do that…?” You muttered out, in awe of the actual hell that seemed to ascend to the earth.

“Y/N!”

The medical director’s voice caught your attention, and you turned to look the doctor in the eye as he beckoned you over to him. He was in the midst of treating a young soldier, struggling to keep the boy still as he attempted to give him morphine. But, the young man on the gurney was screaming and crying out, seemingly in shock from his extensive wounds and burns. Now in the heat of war, your adrenaline kicked in, and you rushed to his side, grabbing the soldier’s leg and pushing it down with all your strength so he couldn’t kick about. You had never seen injuries like his, he was burned badly, skin nearly melted into his uniform and a heat still radiating from his flesh. But, you tried your hardest not to show your shock, not wanting to upset the young boy further.

“Hell beasts! Large hell beasts!”

The doctor ignored his cries, biting off the cap to the needle and sticking the soldier on the side of his abdomen as he tried desperately to ease the suffering. And while you nursed his superficial wounds he continued to yell, sometimes incoherently, other times going on about demons and dragons. None of it made sense to you, but you did your best to ignore him, trying to help him instead of giving in to his shock laden words.

As you cleaned one wound, his hand reached out gripping your arm tightly, screams getting louder. You stiffened at the sudden contact, heart beginning to race as the boy looked you deep in the eyes and yelled. His eyes were wild, lips quivering in fear as he relayed the events that led to his injuries.

“Dragons…there’s bloody dragons!”

In comfort, you placed your hand over his own, shushing him as best you could.

“Settle down, you’re safe here. I promise.”

“The Germans! They sent dragons…”

It was utter nonsense to you, and as confused as you were, you simply brushed your thumb over his hand trying to ease his worry.

“Shh. Rest, there are no dragons here.”

You figured he was referring to the Germans, calling them dragons for the fire they may have unleashed upon his camp. But, he didn’t seem convinced with your calming words, and merely began to struggle more, almost injuring the doctor in the process.

“I saw them….they came from above, fire in their mouths, ate some up….” He cried, an insane form of laughter leaving him as he tried to explain to you both. “Almost got me!”

“That’s enough, please you must-” You placed your hand upon his chest, pushing him down and giving all your weight to your palm. But, he continued on, until his next words left you frozen.

“Scamander saved me…”

To say your heart nearly stopped would be an understatement, and slowly your hand slipped from his own in your shock. You stared down at him in mild disbelief, eyes stinging with angry tears. You couldn’t describe the emotions that came to you, but the awful side of your heartache came out in a rage that was directed at this poor young man. Fearing he was simply fooling you into a false sense of security on the livelihood of your heart’s desires.

In the background, you could hear the sound of the doctor’s voice, shouting out orders to you, but you were already gone. You leaned forward, whispering to the soldier and trying to gain whatever information you could.

“Scamander? Which one?! Tell me, please!”

The doctor pushed you away, obviously done trying to get you to listen to him, and with an angry shout he urged you to retrieve Meredith for him.

“Go get Meredith!!! Now!”

But, you ignored his demands, the selfish half of you urging this injured soldier to help you in any way.

“Tell me!!! What’s the soldier’s name?!”

Meredith came rushing over, gently tugging you away from the soldier and pushing you back.

“Y/N.”

She whispered words of comfort to you, but you paid them no mind, pulling free from her grasp and going back to the boy.

“Newt? Or Theseus? Please! You must tell me!”

She grabbed you harder this time, giving you a sympathetic yet serious look that urged you to stop this now. “Y/N! That’s enough!” She cupped your cheeks momentarily, before moving back to the soldier and helping the doctor pull him along into one of the nearby tents.

You stood back, trying hard to control your breathing, but your anxiety kicked in and you let out a violent cry of frustration. With a sharp turn of your body you cried, covering your sobs with your hands as the tears began to fall.

“Oh, Newt….Newt….” His name left your lips in pathetic squeaks, and as you glanced around silence fell over the turmoil that had taken over the fields. The fire in the distance continued to rage on, burning the grass and trees into ash so quickly there’d be no forest by the end of the hour. And as you watched the flames reach high levels a loud roar rang out, waking you from your grief and causing you to back away. The sound vibrated along the trees, a heavy wind brushing down the fields and flattening the grass. In your terror you stood wide eyed, your heart going out to the young soldier because now you could understand why he’d believe dragons caused this, because in all this disarray it’d be easy to confuse the roar of bombs and guns as a beast. And with this fire…there’s no telling what started it.

“God have mercy on us all…”

You wiped the sweat from your brow, hands sweeping along your cheeks and ridding yourself of the tears you shed. The unknown was something you couldn’t live with, and it hardly served you well in your job. The guilt of your lack of care for the young soldier was enough to deal with, and as far as you were concerned the only option now was to find out the truth for yourself. You were not permitted to be on the actual front lines, but it was worth it in your mind. Not only to find out which brother had saved that poor boy, but also aid those who may need it most right now.

You looked around the field, seeing one soldier getting atop a motorcycle. Before he could leave you called out to him and grabbed a bag of some supplies as you met him behind a tent.

“I need a ride.”

“Not likely.”

“Please!”

The soldier scoffed, clearly not pleased with the position you were placing him in. He was American, his face hardened with stress and years of dealing with this war. You guessed he was the medic for his company, though the patches that would give that away were covered up. No doubt shielding him from nearby snipers who would seek to take out the source of health for their enemies.

“Please…I can help.”

“I’m not about to put a woman on the front lines. Do you have a death wish? Have you even seen what it’s like out there?!”

The horrors you had witnessed never left your mind, and yet you ached for this poor man. Who had, without a doubt, seen far worse than you ever did. But, your mission, at least in your mind was an important one.

“I beg you…I can help.”

He looked into your eyes, lips pursed in equal amounts of concern and annoyance. And while he didn’t care for charity missions, there was something in you that made him relent.

“You’re asking a lot of me.”

“I know. Here…” You handed him the bag of supplies, meager as it was, and hoped it’d help him in some way with his own injured men out there. But, he sighed, pushing it back into your chest and climbing atop the motorcycle.

“Keep it. You’ll need it.”

With a grateful look, you climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking the bag of supplies safely between your bodies.


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A/N: Feedback more than welcomed and appreciated. ❤️