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arcadian-litterateur · 3 months

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there's many different ways to kill the one you love | newt x oc

Masterlist

summary: when thomas finds a picture of a blonde girl above newt's bed, alby tells him the story of frankie, the first glader—and the first glader to die.

wc: 9.4k bc I tried to fit so much backstory and trauma in I'm so sorry

warnings: self-harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide, panic attacks, nightmares, blood, newt and frankie make out at one point but there's nothing explicit bc they're literal children

a/n: this is a heavy one, be warned. also ik that technically there is a male frankie in tmr but ignore that bc i love the name frankie for a girl and rosalind franklin was a queen. btw, this fic follows movie lore-where thirty boys didn't come up all at once. also, thomas is there for longer before teresa comes up and everything goes down. newt and frankie are fourteen. alby is seventeen.

frankie is played by emily skinner

𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 been given the job of befriending Greenies a long time ago, and that meant he was friends with just about everyone. But being friends with people didn't necessarily mean opening up to them. Newt didn't like talking about his feelings. Even Alby, who'd spent more time with Newt than was probably good for him, couldn't always figure the boy out. He tried, and often he succeeded to some extent, but even he couldn't force Newt to process his trauma—which is what he needed to do. Alby simply held out hope that Newt would open up to a Greenie one day. And hopefully not terrify them while still doing the emotional processing he needed to. And soon, because Newt was starting to get lost in his head again; Alby could tell, and the last time it had gotten bad, Newt had ended up with a limp. Alby couldn't afford something worse.

When Thomas came up in the box, Newt took an immediate shine to him. He was funny and stupid and needed a voice of reason. Newt figured he was pretty good at that so he gladly stepped into that role. What he wasn't prepared for was the amount of questions that poured from Thomas's mouth. And they weren't "normal" Greenie questions either—they were invasive and private and prying. Newt didn't like it. He also didn't answer. But he knew Thomas was wearing him down—and he knew he was going to snap at the boy soon.

A week after Thomas arrived, he met Newt by his cot, ready to do his trial in the Garden. He saw a small, grainy photo of a petite blonde girl sitting in front of what looked like a makeshift Med-jack hut. She looked incredibly frail and had dark bags under her eyes, but these observations paled when Thomas saw the bright, beautiful smile on the girl's face. The photo was taped to the wall above Newt's cot, but the corners were worn, as if it had also been kept in a pocket for a period of time.

"Who is that girl?" Thomas asked Newt, who was grabbing his water jug out from under his cot. Newt looked to where Thomas was pointing and almost instantly recoiled slightly.

"That's Frankie," he mumbled, not meeting Thomas's eyes.

Thomas's brow furrowed. "But I thought you guys said there aren't any girls in the Glade."

Newt fixed his gaze pointedly on the brunet, "There aren't." Then, obviously unwilling to say anymore, he briskly walked out.

Thomas inched closer to the photo. Yes, the girl was definitely in the Glade, and he could see the Maze walls towering above the hut that the girl—Frankie, Newt had called her—was leaning on.

Thomas reached a hand up to examine the picture more closely when he heard, "Shank, don't touch things that aren't yours!" Thomas whirled around and saw Gally glaring at him. "Newt has been through enough, don't take his klunk."

"I-I wasn't!" Thomas protested.

"Yeah?" Gally scoffed, "It sure looked like it."

"I just want to know who Frankie is!" Thomas explained.

He saw something change in the other boy's eyes, who gruffly replied, "Go ask Alby if you want to know about Frankie." Then the sandy-haired boy turned on his heel and left, calling over his shoulder, "And keep your hands to yourself, shank!"

Thomas knew he should join Newt in the Garden by now. He was risking time in the Slammer now, but his curiosity got the better of him. He was just too intrigued by the picture of the girl and Newt and Gally's cryptic reactions. So instead of reporting to the Garden, he went and found Alby, who was on his way back to the Homestead after meeting with the Keeper of the Bricknicks about supply needs. "Hey, Alby!" the brunet called out.

The chocolate-skinned man paused and turned to Thomas. "You realize you're supposed to be with the Track-hoes this morning, right?" he asked.

"Yes," Thomas replied,"but I really need to ask you about something, because no one else will talk to me."

Alby sighed, looking at his watch. "Okay, ask away, but you gotta walk with me."

Thomas fell in step with the leader of the Glade and asked, "Who is Frankie, and why is there a picture of her over Newt's bed?"

Alby stopped dead in his tracks and swore, "Well, shuck, kid. Is that why Newt looked so sad?"

Thomas shrugged, "Maybe? I'm confused, though."

Alby ignored Thomas's explanation and turned to Chuck, instructing the curly-haired boy, "Go make sure Newt took his meds this morning, and tell Luke to keep an eye on him. I want to catch any possible situations while they're still manageable. Make sure Luke always sends someone with Newt if he leaves his sight." Chuck nodded and raced towards the Garden, leaving a stressed-out Alby and an even more confused Thomas outside the Homestead.

"Did I do something?" the brunet inquired, visibly lost.

"Maybe," Alby replied, which was not the answer Thomas wanted. "But you didn't mean to. The Greenies never do." At this, the dark-skinned male turned to the younger boy and chuckled, "Do you want some explanation now?"

"Yes," Thomas begged, "please."

"Then come on," Alby motioned towards his room, which was set apart from the rest. "We can talk here. It's a long story and I don't want to be interrupted." Thomas and Alby settled onto the floor, the former looking expectantly at the latter. With a deep breath, Alby started talking.

_______________________________

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 is told upon arrival that Alby was the first boy to come up in the Box. This is true. Every Glader assumes that this means Alby was the first Glader. This is not true. And it's not a secret—not really, but every Glader knows that you don't talk about the first Glader. No one but Alby tells the story, and no one bothers Newt about it. It's an unspoken rule in the Glade, one that gets slowly absorbed by all Gladers.

The first Glader was named Frankie.

It was dark, but Frankie could see a few specks of light floating through holes in whatever contraption she was trapped in. Whatever it was, the teenage girl could tell it was hurtling upwards by the G-forces pressing her back into the sharp wooden corner of some sort of crate. Her eyes had adjusted slightly, and she could tell now that she was in some sort of cage—a metal box filled with crates, barrels, and…her. She scanned the crates, unable to tell what they could contain, her mind only registering several letters on the side of one of the crates: ‘W.C.K.D.’ But Frankie didn't have much time to take this in before—SLAM!

As the Box (as she'd named it in her head) reached its final destination (she assumed), it jolted, sending her flying backwards into one of the crates. Frankie could feel a jagged edge get caught on the tender skin of her scalp, and when she touched her hand to the wound, it was sticky with blood. With a hiss, she pressed the heel of her palm to the tender spot, gritting her teeth against the sting. On wobbly legs, the blonde stood, steadying herself on a crate. There was sunlight streaming through the lid of the Box, and Frankie tentatively pushed on it. It moved slightly, so Frankie quickly climbed onto a crate, the added height giving her enough momentum to push the lid up and over, effectively freeing her.

But the teenage girl didn't climb out of her cage. Instead, she slumped to its floor as the adrenaline from waking up like this wore off. And as Frankie tried to force breaths into her lungs, a new kind of panic overwhelmed her, because a new fact was becoming apparent—she couldn't remember anything. She had no recollection of why she was here, how'd she'd gotten here, where here even was—and she had no memory of where she'd been before this metal box. The only thing she could remember was her name (Frankie), which she'd recalled when her head had collided with the crate.

Taking a tentative step into the sunlight, Frankie shielded her eyes from its intense rays, surveying what could only be described as a Glade. The air smelled of campfire smoke and fresh, new earth. The Glade was mostly just wide open grass, but there was a cluster of small trees on one side, and a small hut on the other. Surrounding the Glade were four large, stone walls. One had a large gap in it. Frankie squinted, noticing the odd passages branching out from the gap, and it suddenly dawned on her—she was in the middle of a fucking maze.

Frankie had been placed here on purpose.

The only sign that anyone else might live in the Glade was the tiny hut, and so, hoping for any clues as to why she was here, Frankie raced towards it. But she was met with bitter disappointment, because it was completely bare. She realized, anxiety rising, that it was a shell. It was waiting for her. Frankie thought back to the crates she'd ridden up with. They were filled with everything needed to homestead—she'd checked before she'd come to the hut.

Whoever had sent Frankie here was watching, and they wanted her to build a homestead. Build a life here. Frankie ran outside, looked up at the sky, and screeched, “Fuck you!” Then she collapsed to the ground in a heap of sobs.

Once Frankie had regained a bit of functionality, she decided to keep track of the days, so as to keep a sense of the passage of time. By the end of the first day, Frankie had taken everything out of the Box, which was good, because the next morning, it had gone back to wherever it came from. On the third day, Frankie had moved most of the essentials into the Hut. She stacked all food-related items in one area, all clothing and toiletries in another, and had set up a nice makeshift bed in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

Frankie wasn't a gardener or a scavenger, and she couldn't cook well either, so she hoped the foodstuffs in the crates would last long enough for her to learn those skills through trial and error. She still couldn't figure out why she was in the Glade, or what its Creators could want from her, but the girl could at least try her hand at surviving. She reasoned that someone or something was bound to happen eventually.

At the start of her second week, Frankie, who'd been living off of tally marks, canned fruit, and jerky, started feeling the effects of her gradual loss of hope. Upon arriving in the Glade, the blonde had noticed thin, red scars on her arms in neat, precise rows, and had easily deduced that something in her ‘before’ had caused her to carve those lines into her arms herself. She also reasoned that if she'd fallen into that depression then, she could easily fall into it again. And the longer she went in this Glade alone, with the horrid Maze that shifted in the night and creepy sounds of some kind of creature, the more she felt her mind slipping into a very serious depressed state.

The word ‘hope’ wasn't in her vocabulary anymore.

Frankie’s sixteenth and seventeenth day in the Maze consisted of eating the last of the foodstuffs, wandering aimlessly in the small patch of trees and letting tears trickle down her pale, sunken-in cheeks. She was underfed, overwhelmed, and utterly alone. It had been over two weeks since she'd come up in the Box, and she was still in solitude (not counting the creepy-sounding Maze monsters). She still had no clues as to her real location, her purpose, or her captors. Her situation seemed bleak, and under even darker lenses of examination, (like her handy-dandy depression lens), there seemed to be no way forward.

Frankie decided that if some kind of help hadn't appeared at the one month mark, she would take matters into her own hands. Kill herself.

As the days went by, Frankie became increasingly convinced that the Creators of this place wanted her to venture inside the dark, deadly walls of the Maze.

“Well, I won't do it!” the teenage girl screamed at the sky. “I won't explore your fucking Maze!” Of course, there was no answer, but that didn't weaken her resolve. Frankie was determined to never step foot in the Maze. She was also ignoring just how necessary planting seeds and trying to start a life would be if she wanted to survive. After all, she wasn't really trying to survive. She was already giving up. There was no motivation in her to keep going.

The blonde pondered this, wondering if it made her weak. She was sure, after all, that most people would have the instinct to build a life; a livelihood. Most people would try to get out, or start a garden, or send for help. If anyone else was in her situation, they'd put on an exciting show for whoever was watching. But not Frankie. See, whoever had put her here had made a seemingly grave mistake—they'd placed a girl with an untrustworthy mind in an unfamiliar place and then expected her to try.

Even if logically, she knew what she should do, her fucked-up brain was still going to win every time. She would still sit there, unmotivated and depressed. She would tally the days…and then pass them by staring blankly at the Walls. And if nothing changed by the time one month passed, she would end it. She refused to wait here forever.

At sunrise on the first day of the new month, Frankie put one more tally mark on her makeshift calendar, laid down on her bed, and slit her pale wrists. Fire licked at the cuts, burning her arms before consuming her. After several moments of extreme pain and spots overwhelming her vision, Frankie's eyes shut and it all went black.

She didn't expect—or want—to wake up, but after some unknown passage of time, she did, her eyes unwillingly flickering open as a shuffling sound moved from her left side to her right. When a warm hand gently turned her right wrist so her palm was facing up, her breath caught in her throat and she jumped, her eyes flying open.

“Woah, there, tiger!” Frankie stared at the dark-skinned boy who was holding her wrist. His expression was one of relief and amusement, but she could also see a tinge of worry in his eyes. She glanced down to where he gently held her wrist and observed the heavy bandaging that mirrored her other wrist. This boy must have nursed her back to health.

“You weren't supposed to save me,” she informed him, her voice barely above a whisper and raspy from lack of use. She used his (quite muscular) arm as support to sit up slowly. Scanning what she could now see was the Hut, she noticed that the boy had taken the liberty of moving her belongings to one space and filling the rest of the Hut with medical supplies. “You redecorated,” she commented.

“This building was in the perfect spot to make it a Med-hut,” her companion answered. Then he grinned, “I'm Alby, by the way.” Frankie nodded once, noticing he'd added to her makeshift calendar. He'd been there almost a week and a half, then.

“I'm—”

“Frankie. I know. You told me.”

The blonde girl looked at Alby in surprise, “I don't remember that.”

“You wouldn't,” Alby chuckled, “you were drifting in and out of consciousness for the first few hours after I found you. When I walked into the Hut and saw you, I thought you were dead, but you opened your eyes and giggled, ‘Hi, I'm Frankie. Welcome to the fucking Glade.’ Then you promptly blacked out again. That's when I started grabbing medical supplies from the Box to stop you from bleeding out.”

“I'm surprised you succeeded,” Frankie chuckled dryly.

“You'd only made the cuts thirty minutes or so before I found you, from what I could tell,” Alby reasoned, “so you were lucky, I guess.” Frankie looked down at her wrists, moving them in circles to test their mobility. They both stung like hell, but the right one could move fine, while the left one hurt too much to even twist slightly. She hissed in pain, rubbing the tender joint.

“You narrowly missed an artery on that one,” Alby told her.

“Wish I hadn’t,” she retorted, “then I wouldn’t still be in this Glade.”

“Hey, I’ve made this place a bit more liveable,” Alby teased. “I’ve built a makeshift Homestead and started a Garden.”

Frankie raised an eyebrow, “You did that in a week and a half while caring for me?”

The boy shrugged. “What can I say? I must have been good at architecture before this.”

Frankie laughed, “Maybe. I think I was just good at overthinking.” Alby nodded, reaching to undo Frankie’s bandages. She let him change them, trying not to grimace as she took in the gross, jagged cuts on both wrists. They were mottled with bruises and half-formed scabs on the shallow parts. The left wrist still had a large section of skin that was hanging open, blood trickling slowly from it. As Alby dabbed at the cuts, he frowned.

“The right side is healing nice,” he commented, rebandaging that wrist before turning to her left, “but this cut keeps reopening. I’m worried it will become infected.” Grabbing a bottle of alcohol, he warned Frankie, “This is going to hurt.” With that, he poured an ample amount of the liquid onto her wound. She let out a shriek.

“You could’ve counted to three, you heartless fucker!”

Frankie’s insults fell on unfazed ears as the receiver wrapped the throbbing cut, “You should be okay for the next couple days.”

Walking around the Glade was a bit of a challenge for Frankie, but with a heap of Alby’s cooking on her plate and his arm to lean on, she made it around the whole walled enclosure. Her legs were very wobbly, but she was glad to be out of bed and away from the reminders of her failed suicide attempt. Alby had warned her that she wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, because he wasn’t going to let her die. She just rolled her eyes.

“There’s no hope for us. We’re just some kind of exhibit in a godforsaken horror zoo. We’ll be better off dead.” But secretly, she was thinking that Alby, with his two room Homestead, half-built Kitchen, and small garden bed, might actually be able to give her hope. Neither teen had set foot in the Maze; it was too soon and Alby had been busy building the foundation for this little ‘civilization,’ as he was trying to convince Frankie to call it. But maybe they could survive here. At least until someone from their befores realized they were gone.

Over the next few weeks, Alby made good progress on the buildings, completing the Kitchen and outfitting the Homestead with furnishings. Alby and Frankie each had a room in its two room structure, and Frankie had moved her belongings from the Medhut to the Homestead. It was a meager pile of belongings, just some extra clothes, a journal and pen, feminine projects, and of all things, a disposable camera.

Alby had given it to her in exchange for promising to try and stay alive.

Frankie was still a less-than-decent gardener, but her wrists still weren’t healing right, so she couldn’t truly build. She could almost garden…as long as she was careful. So she did her best to take care of their food source, letting him handle the struggle of actually cooking. He wouldn’t let her near fire, just in case it might tempt her to harm herself. She appreciated the concern, but knew deep down that if she truly wanted to die, she’d find a much more efficient method than burning herself to death.

And the longer her cuts went without fully healing, the more worried she became that she was going to leave Alby alone here whether she liked it or not. She obviously couldn’t remember anyone besides the teenage boy, but she still got the feeling that he was a kinder person than most she’d known in her before, whatever that was. And the fact that he spent time nursing her back to health even though he had no obligation to? It was sweet. Very sweet. She didn’t want to abandon him to live in the Glade alone.

With Alby here to help her, the voice of depression in her head quieted.

The two teens decided that if the Box brought another teen up at the month-mark, it would be safe to assume that a new teenager would come every month. After all, the Glade seemed too vast for two inhabitants; like it was supposed to be filled with more people, and Alby and Frankie had agreed to ignore the implications of no teenagers in the Box. The implications of what that meant the Creators of this hellhole wanted them to do. They couldn’t decipher their exact ages, but it was clear that Alby was around seventeen, while Frankie was closer to fourteen.

At the very least, it was clear that Frankie was quite a bit younger than Alby.

To their relief, on the day that marked the month, the Box came up loaded with crates, barrels, and a scared, shaking teenage boy. He had dirty blond hair and bright, doe eyes, his arms and legs stick-thin as he huddled in a corner of the Box. He looked to be about Frankie’s age, and he looked terrified.

“I’m Frankie,” the teenage girl smiled, trying to look reassuring as she offered a hand to the boy. This was a mistake, though, because as she pulled him up, the fragilely repaired skin of her left wrist tore right back open, blood immediately gushing out of her arm and onto the boy’s startled face.

Her vision immediately blurring, Frankie leaned against the Box, the sudden blood loss going to her legs. She felt herself losing consciousness, arms flailing to find any support as she fell. In true Frankie manner, she swore as she tumbled down, but in her semi-conscious state, her speech slurred, and so the last word out of her mouth was, “Shuck!”

Then she passed out.

_______________________________

𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 tell he was green.

He’d already thrown up once, yellow stomach acid mixed with blood, (though he couldn’t tell if it was Frankie’s or his own, because he was pretty sure he’d bitten his tongue). But looking at the cuts on Frankie’s wrists, half-healed and probably infected, he felt incredibly squeamish. Alby had explained the story to him—Frankie’s lonely first month in the Glade, her suicide attempt, Alby’s care as he tried to save her, and the life they’d built from there.

Newt thought that his new reality might be partially responsible for his nausea, too.

He’d washed the blood from his face and changed into the clothes sent up with him, Alby directing him to set up a cot in his room.

“We didn’t know if anyone else would be coming up, so I just built two rooms. I figure we can just squeeze in until they’re full and then build on once we run out of room,” the older boy had explained. Newt felt too numb to do anything but nod. Now he simply sat near Frankie, who was lying on a cot in the Medhut, barely conscious. She didn’t seem to have the energy to do anything but groan in pain as Alby set to work sewing her wound back up.

As he tied off the thread, a concerned look in his eyes, Alby patted the top of Frankie’s head, “I’m sure this is the last time I’ll have to sew one of these bad boys back up.”

“You mean, ‘I hope this is the last time,’” the girl grumbled.

Alby rolled his eyes, but Newt could see the note of worry in his eyes that confirmed Frankie’s statement. “Rest up, Frankie,” he ordered, motioning for Newt to leave the Medhut with him. “Take a day off tomorrow,” Alby added, to which Frankie replied,

“Fuck you! I’m working tomorrow!” The strain in her voice, however, said otherwise.

“Frankie,” Newt hummed, shaking the blonde’s shoulder lightly, “time for breakfast.” It had been four days since he came up in the Box, and the teen felt much more comfortable around Alby and Frankie. He’d realized quickly that despite their tough exteriors, both were as cuddly as teddy bears. Alby babied Frankie like she was his little sister, which was adorable to an extent, but after one too many days of bed rest, the teenage girl had asked Newt to take a turn caring for her.

Frankie had an obsession with creating nicknames for everything in the Glade, which she wrote in detailed lists in her journal (what else was she supposed to do?)

“We can call ourselves Gladers,” she had suggested, “and if we ever have someone who wants to solely work in the Med-hut, we should call them a Med-jack, because you go in jacked-up and hope you’ll come out less jacked up!” Newt and Alby had laughed but agreed. “And the last person to come out of the Box will for the first month be a Greenie, because they’re a newbie, which means they’re green.” Then with a smirk, she’d added, “And if they’re anything like Newt, they’ll be physically green, too.”

“You bled on me!” Newt had protested.

“You ripped my arm open!” the teenage girl shot back. “And it’s too late, Greenie, I’ve already decided.”

“I like it,” Alby had nodded, laughing when he saw Newt’s scowl.

“You’re both jerks,” the sandy-haired teen mumbled.

“And you’re a little shit, but I’m still being nice,” Frankie sing-songed.

“Hey, I didn’t cuss at you!” Newt had gasped, Frankie sticking her tongue out to say,

“So?”

“So you were rude!” the boy had insisted. “You should apologize!” Frankie had glanced at Alby, who was watching with a bemused expression. She mouthed ‘Help?’ but the dark-skinned boy had just shook his head.

With a groan and dramatic eye roll, Frankie had forced out, “I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings. Do you want me to ask the Creators to send you some little boy pants? They might fit better.”

Alby had coughed, “That was a shit apology, Frankie. In fact, it was just another insult.” Then he’d sighed and admitted, “Newt has a point, as much as I hate to say it. Who knows how young W.C.K.D will deign to go? They might send up ten-year-olds. As hard as it is in a place like this, we should at least try to set a good example. We’ll come up with alternatives.”

Frankie had finally agreed after Newt reminded her of the hilarious ‘Shuck!’ she’d let out after covering him in blood, and they’d all agreed that it was a suitable alternative.

Newt smiled at the thought, returning to the present as Frankie stirred, awakened by his mention of food.

“Breakfast?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The girl had been quite fatigued from losing so much blood during Newt’s arrival, and it was taking her quite some time to gain the energy back.

“Yup,” Newt encouraged, “and once I check your bandages, I’ll bring you some.” At this, Frankie’s eyes flew open.

“No!” Newt raised an eyebrow.

“No? What do you mean, no?”

Frankie scowled, “I want to eat with you and Alby.”

Newt chuckled. He loved her tenacity, and at first, it had made him slightly timid, but he’d adjusted quickly and picked up on the fact that it was her defense mechanism.

“I’m not sure that’s smart,” he began, not the least bit surprised when she interrupted.

“I don’t shucking care!”

With an eye roll that could envy one of Frankie’s, Newt told her, “Well, I do, because Alby and I care about your health.” He could see her trying to figure out her next argument, the gears turning in her head.

“I’d be doing the exact same thing there as I’m doing here; sitting!”

“And how would you get there?” Newt inquired. “It’s a hard walk for someone recovering from blood loss.”

Frankie huffed. “It’s only five minutes!”

“And that’s about four minutes too many for you,” Newt told her decisively. With a resigned sigh, the girl let Newt finish with her bandages. But as Newt disposed of the dirty rags, an idea lit up Frankie’s brain.

When he turned to face the blonde, Newt was surprised to hear, “You can carry me!”

“What?” Newt sputtered.

“You said I can’t walk all the way to the dining hall, so you should carry me there!” Frankie crowed with a big grin on her pale face.

“Fine,” the teenage boy said. He leaned down and easily swept her off the bed in a bridal carry. “Comfortable?” he inquired, walking towards the Kitchen.

“Yes,” Frankie smiled, her head resting organically on his shoulder. The teen boy hummed in response, sending vibrations through his chest into Frankie’s body. It was a comforting sensation, and coupled with the warmth of his body, Frankie realized that she felt oddly safe in his and Alby’s care.

For two teenage boys she’d known for a month at most, it was impressive. It was probably the whole saving-her-life thing. It earned them brownie points.

The next few days, Newt took the time to carry Frankie around. She wasn’t that heavy and she was great company. He definitely enjoyed gardening more when Frankie was there, even if she was constantly forgetting to drink enough water and take it easy. Newt got into the habit of forcing her to hydrate and take breaks, despite her constant grumbling that ‘she was perfectly healthy’ and ‘didn’t need much water.’

Newt, of course, had the upper hand in these debates, as he could always point to her still scabbed wrists and pale complexion. Eventually, as Frankie gained back enough strength to start walking to and fro as she pleased, these debates simply became an inside joke that the two had, often ending with insult battles.

Alby found it equal parts amusing and frustrating, just like the younger teens’ insistence that the small copse of trees be called the ‘Deadheads’ after Alby came out of them one day, swearing and grumbling, “One of the trees tried to kill me! It tried to take my head off!” The other teens just laughed at him, earning sharp glares from the older boy.

As the three teenagers settled into a rhythm, Alby grew accustomed to completing the day’s work with Newt and Frankie, and then retiring to the Homestead to relax while the other two went off to frolic and explore. He didn’t mind the alone time, and he was incredibly grateful that Newt and Frankie had bonded so well. Frankie still refused to view rescue as a viable possibility, but he could tell that to her, living here in the Glade forever was enough. Fostering these friendships with the boys who’d brought her back from the dead was enough for her.

Frankie may have gained her leg functionality back, but she’d gotten used to Newt ferrying her around, and so she’d jump on his back and ‘force’ him to give piggyback rides on their explorations. She knew he could easily insist she walk, and deduced that his willingness to carry her across the Glade indicated that he secretly enjoyed it as well. She always took her camera with her, snapping pictures of nature, Newt, and even the Walls, if the sunlight hit them in an interesting way. The collection of images grew, occupying the otherwise empty walls of the Homestead. Alby had to admit, it gave the Homestead a homey feel. It was comfortable here.

Frankie realized her rising feelings for Newt on one of their adventures. They were sitting by the pond, Frankie weaving grass together while Newt braided her hair.

“How’d you learn to do that?” she inquired.

Newt let out a hum. “I’ve no idea. Maybe I have a sister somewhere.” The girl smiled, checking the final product in the clear water. She let out a tiny gasp. It had been a long time since she’d felt pretty, but all of a sudden, she felt positively beautiful.

“I love it, Newt!” she squealed, throwing her arms around the boy. Her excitement caused the pair to topple over, Frankie landing on top of Newt. His hands immediately found her waist, as if to ensure she was okay. Her hands tangled in his air, and she was struck with the sudden urge to kiss the boy.

Their lips almost touched.

Frankie rolled off of Newt, clearing her throat as she mumbled, “It’s probably close to dinnertime.”

Then she quickly stood up, and before Newt could offer her a piggyback ride to the Kitchen, Frankie was half-running, half-stumbling away, all the while thinking, Shuck. I’m falling for Newt.

Newt walked behind her, forehead creased as he watched Frankie go flying back towards the center of the Glade, trying to ignore how his hands shook slightly, vibrating in time with the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. What was this weird feeling he got every time he twined his fingers through Frankie’s hair, or heard her laugh, or received a smile? Why did her presence make his skin all prickly while at the same time forming a warm glow around his heart? It seemed so silly to have such an odd reaction to the girl. He couldn’t even fathom why she could be affecting him so.

He wasn’t as confident in his emotions as Frankie was in hers.

“Alby, why does my heart speed up when I’m with Frankie?” the teen inquired one night, nervously dragging his thin fingers through the dirty blond fluff piled atop his head. It was grimy and matted, and his fingers got stuck, Newt wincing as he untangled his hair from his jagged fingernails.

Alby, who was sitting across from Newt by the firepit, looked surprised, but then chuckled. “Well, do you usually feel scared around her, or happy around her?”

Newt smiled. “Happy. But maybe a little nervous, too. She can be intimidating.” Alby nodded in agreement, a toothy, knowing grin adorning his handsome face. “So why do I feel that way?” Newt pressed, annoyed at Alby’s silent smirk.

“Oh, I think you know, Greenie,” Alby replied, letting out a small chuckle when Newt groaned.

“Alby! Give me a real answer!” The older boy just shook his head.

“You know the answer. Now figure out what your response is going to be.”

Before Newt could shoot a snappy comeback at Alby, Frankie waltzed over and plopped down next to him, chirping, “Hi, Greenie!” Newt rolled his eyes.

“You know my name, why’re you still calling me that?” Frankie grinned patronizingly,

“Oh, Newt, you’ll always be green in my heart.”

“You mean nauseous?” he grunted.

“Yup!”

Alby watched the exchange silently, watching the pair’s body language and banter as it suddenly dawned on him—Newt’s feelings were returned. These two were mutually attracted to each other—these two fourteen-year-olds in an awful, unexplainable prison, finding comfort in each other; feeling safe despite everything.

It was kind of beautiful.

Of course, the two were completely oblivious, both believing that their feelings were unrequited. Newt and Frankie simply continued to act like best friends, unable to see the flirting that was plain as day to Alby. That’s what he got for being older and wiser, he thought to himself.

But as much of the romantic tension that he did see, there was even more that he didn’t. Like all the nights that the two younger teens ended up in the same bed, for example.

It was just a normal night in the Glade, but Frankie’s mind didn’t care for peace. It liked to wreak havoc on its owner, especially while she slept (or more accurately, while she tried to). Frankie had been hopeful for a dreamless rest, but in the middle of the night, she started reliving that first lonely month. Except that in her dream, every time she woke up after slitting her wrists, she was back in the Box, starting the month over again.

Trapped here forever.

The teenage girl bolted awake, sitting up in bed as she regained her bearings. She was breathing heavily, forehead slick with sweat.

“It was just a nightmare,” she murmured, trying to convince her racing heart of this truth. She slowly eased herself back to a horizontal position again, but was out of bed wincing within seconds. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again by herself.

She hated waking Newt, but ever since he’d forced Alby to move rooms (the older boy snored), Newt had told Frankie to bug him any time. So, taking a deep breath, she padded over to his door and knocked. After a few seconds of silence, she became too anxious to linger in the dark hallway and simply entered the boy’s room.

His room was surprisingly messy—she’d expected him to be an overall organized person—but she ignored this small detail, tiptoeing around the piles of clothes and other materials on the floor. As she neared his bed, Frankie gulped, noticing that Newt was shirtless. He lay sprawled across the mattress, just boxers on his frame. This made her even more anxious to wake him, but she just took a deep breath and lightly shook the blond’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” the boy mumbled, eyes fluttering open as he looked around the dark room, disoriented.

“Hi, Newt,” Frankie peeped, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his deep, groggy voice and mussed hair.

“Frankie?” She could hear a hint of a smile in Newt’s voice as he rubbed his eyes. “What do you need, love?” he inquired, the pet name slipping out like it always did when he was tired. Frankie would never confess to it, but she secretly loved it.

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted, heart skipping a beat when Newt immediately frowned,

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” she assured him hurriedly. Newt opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Frankie blurted, “Can I stay here?”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks immediately, but Newt just said, “Of course, love.” Frankie immediately climbed beneath the blanket he’d pulled back, right into his outstretched arms. She carefully rested her head on his chest, arms wrapping around his lean torso as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. His chest rose and fell with every soft breath he took, Frankie’s cheeks red as she took in the closeness of their bodies and the rhythm of Newt’s hand rubbing her arm.

“Are you comfortable?” the girl whispered, craning her neck to get a glimpse of Newt’s comforting face.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry about me, love. Just sleep.”

The raspy tiredness in his voice made it even more attractive than it already was, and all Frankie could do was mumble, “Okay.” Then she drifted off to sleep, undisturbed by nightmares now that her knight in shining armor was holding her.

When she woke up, Frankie panicked for a second, chest restricted by something on top of it. But upon opening her eyes, the girl chuckled, finding Newt laying on his stomach between her legs, head resting on her chest, arms around her waist. Obviously, he’d shifted during the night. Frankie certainly didn’t mind; this way, she could run her hands through his soft hair. She’d noticed that he’d started washing it more often recently. It was certainly nice that the head of hair resting on her chest smelled like shea butter, not dirt and B.O.

After a few minutes of lying peacefully while Frankie played with his hair, Newt began to stir. With a large yawn, he stretched, rolling onto his back, but staying between Frankie’s legs.

“Frankie?” he mumbled, obviously not awake enough to remember why she was in his bed.

“Hey, Greenie,” the girl smirked, running a hand through Newt’s hair again. He closed his eyes in enjoyment.

“That feels good.” Frankie laughed, helping the boy sit up.

“Oh, really, Newt?” Neither teen commented on Frankie’s nightmare from the night before. Frankie felt better—Newt’s presence was enough—and Newt knew Frankie well enough that he could tell she wanted to move on. And that’s how it was the next time it happened, and the next. Newt never pressed her to talk about her dreams, and Frankie never pressed him to talk about the nightmares she knew he had, too.

The body heat of another was enough comfort for them both.

It should have been obvious to Frankie and Newt that their feelings were shared, but the two lovesick fourteen-year-olds remained blissfully unaware even after these late night cuddle sessions. It made Alby wish he had longer hair just so he could pull it out. Eventually, fed up with Newt’s insistence at denying his feelings, Alby hatched a plan.

Yes, he was desperate enough to play matchmaker.

Alby wasn’t great at whittling, but he was determined enough to create a decent, simple flute-like instrument. Coupled with a small bonfire, the stilted little flute’s music was all Alby needed to convince Frankie and Newt to dance together, the pair laughing as they twirled around, hand in hand.

“You stepped on my foot!” Frankie yelped as the two pretended to waltz, circling the fire.

“Sorry,” Newt winced, drawing the blonde girl slightly closer to his tall frame. Alby watched from a few feet away, a smile on his face as Newt and Frankie settled into a slow-dancing position, swaying gently from side to side with Newt’s arms around Frankie’s waist and her arms around his neck. Alby changed his flute’s melody to match the mood, watching the scene intently as a reality tv show host. Being as unassuming as possible, he waited for something—anything—to happen.

“Frankie, love?” Newt whispered, the girl looking up at him expectantly. “You look gorgeous in the firelight.” Frankie blushed so red that Newt could see it even at this time of night.

“Don’t be silly, Newt,” she argued. “I’m covered in sweat and grime, and I don’t own a shucking hairbrush. That cannot possibly translate to gorgeous.”

“Yes, it can,” Newt insisted, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. “Trust me, love; you are gorgeous.” Frankie’s eyes fluttered closed as the boy’s hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her soft skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered in response, Newt just humming as Alby watched the pair, practically spontaneously combusting. “Newt—” Frankie was interrupted by the loud shriek of a Griever, causing her to jump from surprise.

Newt chuckled, “We should all go to bed, shouldn’t we?” Alby wanted to protest at first, but then saw a golden opportunity.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of the fire. Newt, walk with Frankie back to the Homestead, yeah?” The younger boy quickly agreed, Frankie knowing better than to protest, as it wasn’t a judgment of her own abilities, but just Alby’s overprotective nature manifesting in an overbearing approach.

“What were you going to say before?” Newt inquired, the girl looking at him in confusion. “Before the Griever so rudely interrupted you,” he clarified, eyebrows raising slightly at the blush that flooded Frankie's face.

“Oh, that—I was just going to ask if…” she trailed off for a second, but quickly regained her resolve, “I was going to ask if you'd stay again tonight. My nightmares have been bad.” Newt’s eyes lit up immediately as he threw an arm around Frankie's shoulders.

“Of course, love.” As the two reached Frankie's room, they both went for the knob, hands colliding in a burst of sparks that caused the two teenagers to exchange sheepish looks. “Sorry,” the British boy mumbled before following Frankie into her room.

A mostly comfortable silence filled the room as the teens quickly changed into their night clothes, sleepovers a routine enough occurrence that half of Newt's clothes were in Frankie's small dresser.

Neither Newt nor Frankie could deny the slight tension in the air, however, when Newt turned around a tad too soon and caught a glimpse of Frankie's bare breast as she pulled her night shirt on, the tension became almost unbearable. He attempted to act as if it hadn't happened, but judging from the blush on her cheeks, Frankie was just as aware as he was of what he'd seen.

They came to an unspoken agreement to ignore it, clambering under Frankie's blanket together as Newt fit his body easily into the outline of the girl's, spooning her. They laid there quietly, breaths filling the room as Frankie felt Newt's exhales tickling the back of her neck. His arms were wrapped almost lazily around her waist, as if they were just supposed to be there. Frankie's eyes fluttered closed at the sensations, hyper aware of Newt's firm chest against her shoulder blades.

Shifting slightly, Frankie unintentionally rolled her hips as she adjusted her legs’ positioning, the girl's breath hitching when the small of her back brushed against Newt's pelvis.

She remembered very suddenly that he was a teenage boy.

“Newt,” she whispered, rolling over in one fluid motion so they were face to face, “gosh, Newt.” Her gaze was soft, very un-Frankie-like, her bottom lip getting caught between her teeth as she gently cupped his cheek in her hand. Stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, she wondered when she'd become so bold.

The teenage girl felt soft hands trail from her ribs to the small of her back, Newt guiding her even closer to himself so their hips were flush against each other. Frankie felt as though her entire body was blushing in one red, burning shade, her eyes squeezing shut of their own accord when Newt's hands drifted lower, resting on the girl's ass before squeezing tightly, Frankie whimpering as her hands found a new spot—tangled in the boy's hair.

“Will you kiss me, Newt?” she asked in a whisper, the boy nodding before using a hand to lift her chin. His lips closed in on hers, Frankie waiting in anticipation, but Newt didn't kiss her full on the mouth. Instead, he planted a kiss on the corner of the girl's mouth, a dissatisfied groan leaving her vocal cords.

“Newt,” she whined, a low chuckle leaving his throat before he pressed a kiss to the other corner of her mouth, followed by a soft pattern of pecks that trailed along her jaw. Finally, sensing her patience waning, his hands found their way back up to her face, pressing his lips to hers with a passion Frankie hadn't expected him to have. She eagerly answered the requests of his soft lips, letting him have access to her mouth as she closed her eyes in contentment, completely happy to let him have dominance. His tongue flicking against her own, Newt's eyes held a deep desire that Frankie was sure was mirrored in her own.

“Gosh, you're so beautiful,” the British boy murmured, leaving Frankie breathless with no words as he continued to brush his lips against hers. Then he moved to her eyelids, placing soft kisses on them as he slowly ground his hips against her own, like he didn't fully believe this was real and had to make sure Frankie was truly there. Being loved on by him. With one last peck to her nose, he pulled back and just stared at her face softly, admiring the teenage girl's ethereal beauty.

“Newt—” she mumbled through swollen lips. “What are we?”

The spell broke.

All of a sudden, Newt was rolling off of Frankie and clambering out of her bed, grasping at the dark, messy floor to find his day clothes as Frankie sat up, stunned.

“Newt—Newt?” she asked anxiously. “Newt, what are you doing?” The British boy froze momentarily, eyes locking with the blonde's, but just as quickly, he unfroze and started towards the door.

“I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm really sorry,” he muttered. “I'm so bloody sorry. I just can't.” He looked at her with a pained expression, “I can't do this.” He stumbled over his words for a second before spitting out, “I don't want this.” Then he scrambled to leave, Frankie frozen in bed, stunned.

How had it all gone downhill so fast? How had it all fallen apart so quickly that she couldn't catch it; couldn't stop the snowball?

After a few seconds of denial, Frankie, though still unable to process what had just happened, found a tear rolling down her cheek. Then another, and another, until a rainstorm was charting paths down her face to fill a sea in the bed sheets below. Frankie found herself growing angry and heartbroken all at once, unable to reason out whether Newt had meant he didn't want her or didn't want a relationship. She wanted to scream, yell, curse his stupid name and wake Alby, too, but all she had the strength to do was let out one gasping, quiet whisper.

“Fuck you, Newton.”

The next day, neither teen would tell Alby what had happened, but he had enough sense to figure out that something had gone down, and from the cold, formal way Newt and Frankie were greeting each other, it didn't take the older teenager long to deduce a basic summary of the previous night's events. Alby tried in vain to bridge the chasm that lay between Newt and Frankie now, reasoning that they were stronger together, but nothing he tried could fix the damage Newt had done to Frankie's trust.

Alby became resigned to a fate of mediating between two icy parties, but what he wasn't willing to accept was Frankie drawing back into herself again. He watched her close herself off from both boys, noticing how she dug her nails into the scars on her wrists when Newt passed, and he remembered what he'd promised her when she woke up from her attempt—he wasn't going to let her die. Not by outside causes, and not because of her own mind.

Alby knew deep down that to help Frankie, he needed to first get her out of this hellhole, and that's why he first turned to the Maze.

There was no way he'd let Frankie out of the Glade into such an unknown, likely hostile environment, so the leader of the trio recruited Newt, who'd wanted to explore the Maze all along. Frankie, of course, opposed the idea with everything in her, wanting the well-being of both boys despite Newt's earlier defenses. She still treasured them both, and so the thought of them risking their lives in the Maze scared the girl.

But they were persistent, and Frankie held no real power over them. She just wished that they'd be content in the Glade. That they'd squash this desire to explore the Maze.

The morning Alby and Newt departed the Glade to run the Maze, Frankie ignored the sun's cues and instead simply glared frostily at the boys, as if to give them one last chance to back out. But of course, they didn't. Instead, they disappeared into the Maze, ignorant of the fact that they would never see Frankie again.

At least, never alive again.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗟𝗕𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗗 remained relatively calm during the whole story; emotionless, even, but at this last statement, his head fell into his hands, a strangled sob coming from his mouth.

“Alby—” Thomas said uncertainly, but he was interrupted as Alby's head snapped back up, an anguished, feral look in his eyes.

“She fucking killed herself, Thomas! She slit her fucking wrists, right on the scars, so fucking perfectly that it must've been so meticulously intentional.” The leader of the Glade let out another angry cry before continuing, “She collected every single photo, poem, drawing, memento…everything that had any connection to her at all…and burned it. All of it. So we'd have nothing left of her. And then she wrote a fucking note that said, ‘You shouldn't have left.’ Set it next to her. Went to the Med-hut, right where she did it the first time, and ended it. When we got back and found her, she'd already been gone for at least a few hours.”

“I'm so sorry,” Thomas whispered, voice cracking, surprised to find a few tears in his eyes for this girl he'd never met; this girl whose brain had worked against her from the very start. Alby looked at Thomas with the expression of someone so in pain they could barely breathe.

“She died alone, Greenie. She fucking died alone.” Alby shook his head, “She shouldn't have had to die alone. Everything about it was awful.” The dark-skinned boy caught Thomas's eye again, answering his unspoken question. “Newt's photo only survived her purge because it wasn't in the Glade. It was in his pocket. He was in love with her, but he was too scared to admit it. At least, until it was too late. Fucking screamed it when we found her, as if a love confession could raise her from the dead.”

Alby laughed, but it was devoid of humor. “Creators started sending up antidepressants for Newt after that. Didn't make him take ’em at first, but…well, something happened that made them necessary.”

Thomas didn't know how to process all of the emotions rolling off Alby's body, especially paired with the deja vu the whole story brought with it. So he just sat there, not moving for a few minutes before Alby stood abruptly.

“Time to get to work, Greenie. Why don't you do your job trial with the Builders today instead of the Track-hoes?” The brunet agreed numbly, staggering out of Alby's office as the tales of Frankie ran through his mind. The image of that blonde in the photograph cycled through his head over and over, her smile getting stuck in his thoughts. She looked so happy in the photograph, and it made Thomas wonder if that joy was real. If that photo was taken in a happy time.

“So did you learn your lesson about being nosy, Greenie?” A gruff voice interrupted Thomas's thoughts.

He looked up to find Gally towering over him and mumbled, “Probably not. But I did learn to be more careful about being nosy.” Gally just stared at the boy for a second before sighing.

“Good enough. Come with me and we'll start your job trial. Not that it matters, I wouldn't take you. But that's inconsequential.”

Thomas trudged behind the Builder, barely even processing his words before asking, “Is there a grave for Frankie?” Gally looked at the other boy sharply, causing him to turn red, but the taller boy finally replied,

“Yeah. First one in the Deadheads.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said quickly, glancing over at the clump of trees that housed the graveyard.

“No, you can't go see it right now,” Gally added, Thomas scowling,

“I wasn't going to ask!”

“Sure,” Gally snorted. As the two boys reached the Builders' latest project, a repair site for a Slicer hut, Gally turned to Thomas and said, “Look, I get it. You're curious. But getting fixated on Frankie will help no one. I came up after Newt, just a few days after Frankie died, and spent the month trying to mediate between Alby and Newt, who were both trying to handle the guilt by blaming each other. It was the most miserable month of my life, and once they became civil again, it was still a nightmare to be reminded of her. Once I got them to talk again, I chose to just move past it and not think of it. And that's what you need to do. We didn't know her, so it's not our business. Got it?”

Thomas was taken aback by the harshness of Gally's words, unable to tell if the tall boy felt angry or sad about his forced role as peacemaker. The 6’3” Keeper of the Builders definitely didn't seem like the peacemaking type. But then again, Thomas was learning not to judge a book by its cover.

After all he'd thought Newt was a ray of sunshine.

That evening, as Thomas knelt silently at Frankie's grave and placed a makeshift bouquet at the wooden plaque, he wondered why the Creators had sent a girl with depression up to the Glade.

Unfortunately, no one would ever know. The only answer anyone had ever received was, “WCKD is good.”

the end

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seungsvoid · 2 years

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TAINTED THRONE | thomas (the maze runner)

pairing — thomas x male! reader

summary — since the first day in the maze, y/n’s been getting weird visions. his mind is rattled with them until a greenie a year later pops out of the box like he owns the place. y/n’s visions only get worse from there and as thomas builds himself a reputation in the glade, y/n struggles with everything he thought he knew about himself.

warnings — cursing, suicide attempt (not really), violence and gore. sexual content references but nothing explicit. not really a warning but reader is claustrophobic!

chapters — 000. 001. 002. 003.

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vvagustd · 11 months

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☼my cure - newt

[newt x reader]

synopsis - newt survives because my heart needed to be healed

warning! swearing, mention of newts accident, blood and knife use

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"You."

I could feel heavy blood running through my veins. This didn't feel like me, I felt… different. Loud thoughts clouded me like thick fog. I could feel my mind slipping away.

"Newt..?" Y/n's voice made me shiver. I had no control anymore, it took everything in me to not lunge at her. I never wanted to hurt her, I never did, but this wasn't me. I was something else, something uncontrollable.

"You're the cure. It's in your blood."

"Newt, what are you-?" I lost it.

I tackled her and her head slammed into the ground. Stop it! Stop hurting her! I knew what I was doing but I couldn't stop it. The virus took control and it knew she had the cure. It was like I was watching a horrible movie through my eyes, one where I hurt the love of my life.

She was the one good thing the creators ever sent up. I saw my fair share of slinthead greenies, but Y/n was something different. I was scared, and alone, until she came up. She was always there with me, even when I was stupid enough to try and take my own life by jumping off the Maze walls.

"newt," she tried to huff through my hands gripping her throat. That's when I realized there was a knife in my hand. I already knew what the virus was planning to do.

I fought with everything I could but I wasn't strong enough. I needed to take control, I needed to take control and get through to Y/n. It felt like I was ripping through my own mind as I pushed, and I pushed. I knew I was there, I could feel-

- "Well hello, greenie." I greeted a very timid girl, huddled in the corner of the Box. "What the fuck is a greenie?" She shot back. That received a lot of laughs and snickers from the other guys. We only had a handful of people in the glade so far, a greenie monthly and we only had about seven, now eight. "Where am I?"

"Welcome to the glade, greenie! I'm Newt, and up there is the first in command, Nick. And second in command, Alby." The two boys waved from the top as she stood on a box and looked out. "What the hell are those walls?" She asked, lifting herself out. "Why am I here? Why can't I remember anything?"

"Slow down, greenie. I know you have a lot of questions, but we only have limited answers. Your name should come back to you in a little wh-"

"Y/n."

"y/n," I whimpered out.

"It's me, Newt." She whispered, tears filling her eyes. "I'm right here." She cupped her face around my cheeks. I knew I didn't have enough time, I needed to get my point out now.

"Kill me."

"What..?"

I shoved the knife into her hands. "Kill me now!" I yelled. She flinched, the knife clutched in her shaky hands. "If you've ever loved me you'll kill me now, Y/n. You'll kill me before I turn into one of them." Tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed. "Of course I fucking love you, Newt! I have since the glade. You're my everything.“ My tears mixed with the rain as I coughed up a heavy amount of blood. I was losing it, she needed to do it now.

"I love you so much, Y/n. That's why I need you to kill me, now. PLEASE FUCKING KILL ME."

Something snapped. The virus took over and I lost control as I jumped on her and tried to take the knife. Stumbling back on to the floor, we wrestled with the knife. The virus was trying to kill her for her blood, but I needed her to be alive. She had so much life left to live.

She screamed out in pain, the knife had gashed her in her stomach. It took everything she had to flip herself over on top, still crying out in agony. Her wound bled out everywhere as I fought for control of the knife, I kicked and screamed, grabbing the knife and her hands trying to desperately flip it around on her.

…

Suddenly the world came to a standstill. She did it, she plunged the knife into my chest. I fell back onto the ground behind me as Thomas and Minho came running over, grabbing her as she desperately kicked and punched. The last thing I heard was her screaming my name.

"I love you."

"Hey, can we talk?" I walked over to Y/n, my long time best friend. It took me a lot of courage to walk over to her, I didn't know how she was going to take this considering she's probably the most sporadic, unpredictable person I know.

But she's brave when I'm scared, she's hot-headed when I'm calm and maybe that's what I love about her. She's everything that keeps me even and she means everything to me. Today's the day I decided I'll tell her how I feel.

"Of course! Have a seat." She said, patting the ground next to her. I sat down and plopped back on the thick tree stump with a heavy exhale. "You alrighty, Newtie?“ You asked with a laugh. God, he thought you were beautiful. Everything from your laugh tho your hair, to how you yelled at the boys to keep then in line. It was like you kept the whole glade together.

"I wanted to tell you something, something I've had on my mind for a while." She turned and looked at me questioningly. "I've felt something more towards you, like there was something else I felt towards you other than friendship. I value you more than anyone in this glade but I also deeply admire you. Your beauty, how you're so eager to help out, how you always compliment Fry's mediocre cooking without fail." She let out a laugh as her cheeks flushed. "Are you trying to say you like me?"

I stumbled trying to find the right words when I suppose a yes would have done fine. She leaned in and brushed her hand across my cheek before her lips met mine. I completely froze, and she pulled away when she realized I wasn't kissing back.

"I'm so sorry, I thou-"

I wrapped my hands around the back of her neck and pulled her in for another kiss, this time deeper, more meaningful.

"Wake up!" A tall, big man in full armor shouted at me over the loud horn of a..

boat?

"Where the bloody hell am I?" I said, trying to sit up and immediately doubling over from the pain in my chest. "What the-?"

"Man, your lucky we got there when we did, you were bleeding out like crazy, can't believe that knife missed your heart." Oh no. Oh no no no no. I can't be here, I need to leave before-

I lifted up my shirtsleeve to find nothing on my arm, no virus in my veins. How is this even possible?

The events of that day flooded back to me, that one line repeating over and over again.

"You're the cure. It's in your blood."

During the fight her blood entered my bloodstream, the blood that would cure me. It's because of her, the girl I begged to kill me that night was the reason I'm still standing.

"Welcome to Paradise." I looked over from the edge of the boat to see a beautiful island. Sure it wasn't much, but there was people everywhere, some laughing and dancing, some getting food, and some making a bonfire. I prayed that Y/n had made it here, if anything she deserved to be here and not me.

"Do you know if a Y/n got here?" He thought about it for a moment. "Nah man, sorry. I don't know much about the people here. But what I do know, is that you're very lucky to be here. We found you half cranked out in the middle of the city, so if it wasn't for my crew I would have left your sorry ass."

The boat docked and the first thing on my mind was to find Y/n. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I desperately needed a shower. My tour guide took me to a disinfectant room, he gave me a change and I showered, probably the best treatment I've had in a very long time.

The sun never really showed since I got here, the island in a constant gray haze. I got led around to get a feel for the island, but everything felt unfamiliar, from the island down to the people. I passed dozens of faces, each either looked at me like there was sometimes wrong with me, or glanced and moved on. I prayed to see a familiar face. I prayed to see her face.

"Newt?"

I whipped my head around.

"Y/n?" My heart dropped. The memories from that night flooded in. Her tear covered face flashed my memory as she plunged that knife into my chest. How could she ever forgive me for what I did to her that night? I took a step forward and she staggered back.

"Is it really you?" Her voice was small, tears started filling her eyes. I nodded, tears filling my own as she ran into my arms. "I can't believe it's you!" She sobbed into my chest, being careful to avoid my injury. She pulled away and looked into my eyes. "How is this even possible?" She sniffled.

"You, love. You were my cure."

---

hope you enjoyed my first newt fic! little angsty but it all works out

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#tmr newt #newt x reader #tmr thomas #tmr minho #the death cure #the scorch trials #newt #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner #the maze runner preferences #tmr x reader #fanfic #fanfic request #tmr newt x reader #tmr newt imagine

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 3 months

Note

could you possibly do a platonic gladers thing where reader was the first to come out of the box? like they came up with the note like teresa but “the first” if that makes sense 😭 anyway the reader is just sort of a parental figure to everyone? whatever gender you’d like to put and scenarios, the thought just popped in my head. ofc do this only if you’d like to!! pls don’t feel obligated!! love ur work <333 /p

HI LOVE THIS!! Thank you for the request ❤

Everyone loves Y/n

Platonic gladers x gender neutral!reader, set during tmr (movieverse)

3k - longish fic but worth it if you love platonic love 🫶

Warnings: discussions of Newt's suicide attempt; but more like the recovery after it, still please take care everyone, also language warning

1. Alby

You're the first one. Welcome.

You stuff the crinkled note back in your pocket just as you've done so many times before, re-examining it and hoping for some clue as to why you're stuck in here alone.

Except- you're not alone anymore.

The boy stands beside the Box, staring around the same way you did when you first climbed out, exactly 30 days ago.

Come on, Y/n. Time to go. You take a deep breath, resolving yourself, and you step out from where you'd been standing hidden in the trees.

The guy notices you immediately and takes a defensive stance, understandably hostile and scared. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Woah, hey," you raise your arms nonthreateningly, continuing to move slowly towards him. "It's alright."

"Where am I?" demands the boy.

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue," you tell him. "But you've got no idea how happy I am to see you."

His eyes narrow. "What?"

You shrug. "I thought I'd be alone here, forever."

At his silence, you continue. "So I've been here for a month. I was sent up in this Box, like you, with a bunch of resources and... hey, they've sent more stuff," you say happily, peering into the Box.

"Alright listen man," you say. "I don't really have answers for you, but I did start developing a routine for how to live here, and I'd love for us to work together."

The boy holds your gaze for a second, before giving a single nod.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Great, wonderful. I'm Y/n, by the way." You stick out your hand to shake. "Oh- memories. Your name is all you get, everything else is gone. But hey, let's make new memories here, together." You flash a cheesy grin and clap the guy on the shoulder.

You don't know how someone conveys sarcasm in a single look, but the new guy manages it just fine.

2. Minho

"Here, this way- shit."

You turn the corner and see the wall sliding into place, sealing off your exit.

"Which way now?" asks Minho, fear evident in his voice.

"Uh- that was already my backup route," you say honestly, backing away from the closed wall. "Just follow me, we'll find another way back."

You start down a lane, moving faster now, admittedly guessing your way through the paths and taking turns on instinct, aiming for the vague direction of the Glade.

Somewhere across the Maze a Griever lets out a screech.

"Yeah, okay," you mutter. Shuck. "In here, quickly," you direct, pushing Minho ahead into a smaller lane.

"Alright, here's the deal." You squat down, forcing Minho down with you, and keeping your voice low. "If I'm right, we're close to the Glade now. There should be a right turn at the end of the path next to us now, then a left and a straight shot back to the Glade."

"What if you're not right?" hisses Minho, wincing at the Griever's screech.

"Then we're dead," you say flatly. "Cause that Griever's in the same direction we're going. By the sound of it, we'll be running the path right beside it's lane."

"What."

"Look, Minho. Do you trust me?"

He hesitates, before; "Yes, fine. Let's go."

You shoot him a grin, patting his shoulder. "Perfect. Follow me, stay close."

You run through the route you'd explained to Minho, feeling your blood chill as you get closer to the Griever, its screeches becoming deafening.

You turn to check on Minho, who gives you a firm nod despite the terror you can see in his eyes.

The two of you turn into the final stretch, separated from the Griever by a single wall, and you sprint back to the Glade, heart pounding in your chest.

You collapse into the grass, breathing heavily as Minho falls in beside you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" demands Alby, running up to you and Minho.

You sit up. "Maze changed, and there was a Griever near the Glade," you explain. "Too near."

"Bloody hell," says Newt, hands balanced on his hips. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

So far you and Alby have been the only people to enter the Maze. Today was meant to be a beginner's run for Minho, your newest Glader and technically the Greenie even though he's never acted like it. You wanted to build a team of Runners, to see if more people could help with searching for an exit.

You look to Minho, still bent over in the grass. "Let's talk in the hut," you say, patting his arm.

"What did you think?" you ask, after you've both gotten water and a few minutes to let the adrenaline fade.

Minho flicks his gaze up at you, before dropping it. "I freaked out. I don't think I'm cut out for this Runner klunk."

You hum softly, tapping on the table Gally had lovingly built and sanded until it shone. "Do you think everyone was immediately good at their jobs?"

"Running is different," responds Minho, dodging the question.

"You were fast," you say. "I think you'd beat any of us in a race if we bothered to test it out. And you've got a level head, which is the most important thing when you're in the Maze."

You lean forward. "But you also need the guts to set foot in the Maze in the first place. And Minho, you were the first volunteer to run with me today. That's exactly the bravery we need in Runners."

You're met with silence. "If I asked you to be a Runner," you say quietly. "Would you say yes?"

"You could be asking the wrong person," hedges Minho.

"I don't think so," you say.

"I- why? Why me?"

"Because I believe in you," you say simply. "I think you could do it."

The silence stretches as you wait for Minho's response. Then; "Okay, I'll do it." He gives you a nod, expression resolving.

You sit back, a mock-thoughtful expression on your face. "I mean, I said if I asked you, this was really more hypothetical-"

"Y/n, I swear-"

You let out a laugh, and Minho rolls his eyes at you, grinning.

3. Newt

Overtime, the Gladers have grown into a wider community, with new jobs and groups slowly added.

Alby steps into the leader position and you move into your gardening job, as well as mentoring the Medjacks on the side. You tend to pick up a little of every job, passing what you know to newly formed groups until they can develop on their own.

Minho's grown far beyond what you could have expected from him, moving on to memorising routes, constructing a scarily detailed Map, and hand-picking the new Runners.

Newt becomes a Runner too, and you almost lose him.

They're some of the worst memories you'll ever have, that day Minho ran in in the freezing morning, screaming for help. The Medjack hut was finished literally a day before, and the Medjacks themselves were barely trained to patch up the Slicers. So everyone turned to you... And you were so, so, out of your depth.

You'd built a temporary brace for your own twisted ankle from your first month alone in the Glade, but for this you were completely unqualified and unprepared.

It’s been months now, with Newt slowly healing overtime. You worked with the Medjacks to set up a few movement drills, but it’s been painstakingly slow progress.

“I want to try walking again.”

You lift your gaze to Newt in the dark. “Now?”

“I wanna go outside.”

You hesitate.

“Come on, Y/n, I barely got five steps in today before Jeff made me sit down again. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re fine when the Medjacks say you’re fine,” you reply.

“The Medjacks don’t know shit,” retorts Newt. “They’re just making stuff up as they go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I trust them,” you say steadily. “Alby and I chose them for a reason.”

“Y/n, can you please just let me outside.”

You let out a breath. “Fine. Take your crutches.”

You don’t go far; the ground is too uneven and the crutches slip in the grass. You end up dropping them near the top of a hill.

“Here, let’s sit.”

You reach a hand out to Newt, which he thankfully takes, letting you help him down so you’re both lying back on the grass, facing up at the night sky.

“It was a good idea,” you say, breaking the silence. “I get why you wanted to come out.”

"Yeah," says Newt. He jerks his chin upwards. “The stars, they’re what I’m here for.”

You tip your head back, following Newt’s eye line. “You know, my first night here, I hadn’t built a place to sleep. I just lay on the ground like this, looking up at the stars.”

Newt shifts, moving one hand to point upwards. "I recognise most of the constellations," he tells you.

"Really?"

"Yep. That's Orion, right there. And over there is Gemini. And that star is Sirius, in Canis Major."

You search your mind for a hint of a memory, trying to call up knowledge you might have had before being put here.

"It's all bullshit," says Newt.

You turn to him in surprise.

"The stars," he says, still staring upwards. "None of them should be arranged like that, the constellations wouldn't be that close, or even in the same area, if this was real."

"Oh," you say, voice soft.

Newt lets out a flat laugh. “I don’t know why they let me keep this knowledge, when they’ve taken everything else away.”

He sits up, eyes flicking down to you. “…sorry.”

You shake your head, sitting up and turning to face him. “It’s okay. I’d rather you say this stuff than keep it bottled up.”

“Right,” says Newt. “I guess we should… get back to the hut.”

Neither of you move to get up.

“Newt,” you say. You face forward, resting your arms loosely around your knees.

”Yeah?”

“Please stay with us,” you say, voice quiet. You turn to him, letting go of your legs to gently take his hands. “We need you, I- we- okay, let me just-” You take a deep breath. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here some day. And I want to sit with you under real skies, with real stars, so you can tell me each and every constellation you see. Cause I know your nerdy ass studied all of them in another life, and I don’t know, when we run out, we can just... make up new ones? I think that’s something I want to do with you.”

“Yeah, okay- yes. Okay.” Newt’s eyes are wet, and he squeezes your hands right back.

“And talk to us,” you continue. “When you’re struggling, or hurting, or… anything. Just talk to us, Newt. Please. We need you, and we care about you, so much.”

“I’ll try, I’m trying.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say.

“God, okay,” you start, after staying there under the stars for a while. “Look at us. Let’s get back in the hut, c’mon.”

You help him up, handing him his crutches.

“So, we’re trying,” you say, looking Newt in the eye.

“Yes, we’re trying.”

You get the smallest of smiles from him, and count it as the biggest win.

4. Gally

"First he breaks all our rules, then he tries to convince us to abandon them entirely? These rules have held us together for years, why are we questioning them now?"

You frown slightly, taking in Gally's words from your seat at the back of Council Hall.

"If Alby was here, he'd agree with me, and you know it."

You watch pain flicker across Newt's face for a second, before he speaks. "Let's take a break. I want Minho, Gally, and Y/n in here, the rest of you just give us ten minutes."

As the others clear out, you join the three in the centre of the room.

"Newt, this really isn't complicated. That shank broke our rules, and he needs to be punished," says Gally.

Newt sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. He needs Alby. "You're not wrong, Gally, but..."

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" asks Minho, jerking his chin at you as Newt trails off.

You raise your eyebrows. "You know I have no say in this, Min. I'm not a Keeper, or any kind of leader. I'm pretty much just here to watch the meetings."

"Seriously, Y/n?"

"Fine," says Newt. "Then suppose we're asking you as friends asking a friend, not as a council leaders or Keepers."

"I don't-"

"Just speak, Y/n," says Gally exasperatedly.

"I- alright, the idea that Newt's having right now, mine's the same."

"Well, we'd love to hear it from your mouth," says Minho drily.

"Yeah Y/n, what am I thinking?" Newt crosses his arms, lifting a brow.

You sigh. "Punish Thomas for breaking the rules, but make him a Runner."

"You can't be serious," says Gally immediately.

Newt shrugs. "They're right, that's what I was thinking."

"I'm down to train him," says Minho. "I think he'd make a good Runner."

"Good. Call the Council back in then, we'll make the announcement."

"You're making a mistake," says Gally angrily. "Tell the others without me." He storms out as the rest of the Keepers file in.

"Gally-"

"Nah, Fry."

"I got him," you say, nodding at Frypan.

"You're alright," you whisper as you brush past a stressed-looking Thomas. You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and he gives you a small smile of gratitude.

You shut the door behind you, chasing Gally down as he storms into his hut.

"Gally wait-"

"I don't want to hear it, Y/n."

He slams his door shut, closing you out. You sigh, and let yourself in.

"Get out of my hut, Y/n."

"Stop, Gally," you say sharply. "Just listen."

Miraculously, he stays quiet, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.

"I... I know you're scared, Gally."

"What-"

"Oh my god, just hear me out," you huff, rolling your eyes. "Okay, so yes, we just got attacked by Grievers, right here in the Glade. And yeah, it's probably linked to Thomas. And- yes, making him a Runner and letting him pretty much just fuck around and find out could put us in danger. ...But he's also the closest we've ever been to understanding the Maze and this whole place. I think he's the key to getting us out of here."

You sit down on Gally's bed, gesturing for him to sit down beside you. He lets out a huff, but reluctantly takes a seat.

You look him in the eye. "Gally I've been here for three years, and it's great. We've built a structure, a life, a goddamn society. But I really, really want to see the outside world."

Gally scrubs a hand over his face, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I know, Y/n. I'm just- I'm trying to keep everyone safe. Newt and Minho are blinded by this hope, they're believing too much in one guy who's been here for literal days."

"I know, I know. But we need to take that risk, if we want to get out of here, alright?"

Gally sighs, then nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I'm gonna help Thomas, and Newt and Minho in whatever plans they make."

You hold out your fist. "Promise me you'll follow the plans we make, and stick with us. Don't... you know, make your own group and stay here and get killed, or whatever you were planning to do."

Gally rolls his eyes at you, and reluctantly brings his fist up to knock against yours, following through with the handshake the two of you used to do after building something, back when you used to help out with the other jobs. "Yeah, yeah, we get it Y/n. You've been here the whole time, you know us sooo well, you can read our minds."

You grin widely. "Damn right I can."

5. Thomas (everyone loves Y/n)

"Do you think this'll work?" asks Thomas, chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Of course it will," you say. "Have a little faith in your plan, Thomas. You don't need approval from me."

Thomas huffs out a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to hear you're confident, though."

You raise your eyebrows, smiling a little confusedly. "I mean, I'm glad my support motivates you."

Thomas squints his eyes at you. "Y/n, you know you're like... super respected, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everyone looks up to you. You don't notice the way people turn to you in tense situations and stuff? You're kinda like an understated leader, I guess."

"Ah, right." You smile at him. "It's cause I was the first person here, which I do get credit for, I don't know why. Totally underserved, Alby's the one who built this place."

"Bullshit." You turn in surprise as Minho walks in, Newt following behind him.

"What?"

"Undeserved credit, my ass," says Minho, crossing his arms. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a Runner."

"Yeah," says Newt, coming over to your side. He props an elbow on your shoulder, grinning at the frown you send him. "And you know what," he says quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I might not even be here."

You smack his arm. "Don't even say-"

"Gally, tell Y/n we love them," interrupts Minho.

"Huh?" Gally lifts a brow, before nodding. "Yeah, everyone loves you, man. Don't take it personally. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be on board with this plan right now."

"Ugh-" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Thomas leans in. "Told you so."

"God, let's just do the plan. Let's go, everybody out," you say hurriedly, shoving Newt out, ignoring Minho's snickers.

You stand between Minho and Gally as Thomas and Newt explain the plan to the Gladers, feeling yourself surrounded by friends; family.

Time to get out of here.

The end chapter is cheesy but I love it thank you for reading <3333

#the maze runner #platonic gladers x reader #alby x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #gally x reader #thomas x reader #my writing

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 1 month

Text

Behind the scenes - Maze runner

This is a companion piece with this fic.

(Newt) Thomas Broadie-sangster X reader. Slow burn.

Two requests that I have joined together.

Reader and Thomas could both be actors working on the same project (maybe Maze Runner). Maybe they don't really like each other at the beginning, but they have to go to a special event with the whole cast and Thomas notices that reader is uncomfortable in big crowds and he kind of starts protecting reader.

After you finish Newt x Reader do you think you can make Bloopers?😂 Of course behind the scenes/off-set TBS and Y/N are a couple

You stood beside Ki Hong as he tried to say his lines, but Dylan continued to pull silly faces behind the camera making you all laugh. Four takes later and you hear Wes telling him off which causes you all to laugh again.

Blake (who plays Chuck) is holding a pile of blankets and “Greenie” equipment below the watchtower. He lifts his hand to wave, calling out his line,

“Hey Alby!” The metal bowls and cutlery begin to fall and he tries to catch them. Though he tries to recover the blankets drop and become too heavy in one arm, more and more of the props drop to the grass. Eventually Blake gives up and just shrugs. Your laughter can be heard before you come back into the shot.

You sit between Dylan and Thomas with your backs to a log. It's a night shoot, the first of many to come, and as such you were all feeling a little tired and loopy. The scene was simply, your character and Thomas's would attempt to cheer up Dylan's. The two boys had other ideas and they both began leaning across you making it look like they were about to kiss each other. You give them both a quick flick with your hands when they pull back. Dylan drops his head to your shoulder as he laughs, Thomas, however l, pulls slightly away.

You and Dexter Darden come running into the shot, the camera placed around waist height looking up.

“Newt, what do you see?” Dexter says his line, but you slip on a patch of wet mud and though you grab at Dexter's arm you slide down, hitting the ground. All the boys, camera crew and Wes begin to cackle at your mishap. You stood up as gracefully as you could, but there was definitely a big bruise on your hip that afternoon.

Dylan helped you to hobble about between takes until there was an exchange between him and Thomas. After that Dylan mostly stayed away from you that day.

Most of you stand at the entrance to the maze, as you wait for the scene to begin. Thomas is on your left. You feel Dexter begin to dance beside you, shaking his shoulders and you instantly join in. The tiger playing Mai Mai, shakes her head and starts jumping around you, playfully. Your laughter catches Thomas's attention and he spins his head round to watch you both. A sweet smile crept onto his face.

Dylan is holding a camera in front of him with Ki Hong beside him, they are whispering to the camera.

“Hey, hey look at this,” Dylan turns the camera and quietly sneaks around the door of one of the glade huts. In the middle, on top of a blanket Thomas is lying on his side, reading a book aloud to you. You are stringing together a chord of daisy's that you then place on Thomas' head. His blonde hair and the crown makes him look like a fairy or a grecian god.

“Young love.” Dylan and Ki Hong giggle before rushing away when you notice them there.

In an interview the cast are asked who is more likely to ruin a take and almost everyone points to you.

“Hey!” You protest.

“No, literally you fall over all the time!” Kaya giggles.

“Oh yeah you're right, I have zero balance.” You agree. Dylan pretends to push you causing you to jump and almost fall from your high chair. Luckily Thomas was able to catch your arm and gently push you back into place. Your eyes meet and you share a small smile. The others catch it and a few whispers are exchanged.

The red carpet came, and you walked with the other teenagers. Your confidence was as high as everyone's with the world watching. It was great to spend time with the others again after a short break. As you walked the media line you answered questions they threw at you. For the most part they were all the same until one asked you,

“So, have there been any romances on set?”

“Oh um, no, no-”

As you're talking Dylan and Thomas walk behind you, both of them bent round and kissed you on either side of your face.

“Those two, total bromance.” You laugh.

Next part

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe

#thomas brodie sangster and reader #maze runner imagine #newt x reader

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plussizewritersworld · 2 years

Text

Y/N gently stroked the cow’s snout, completely lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even realize someone was trying to speak to her, that was until she felt a rough grip on her shoulder.

“Jesus, can you ever pay attention?” It was Gally. Working in the barn was her only escape from reality of living in the glade, but somehow Gally always managed to ruin that for her.

“I’m sorry…is everything alright?” She asked him. He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“No, those damn chickens that you are responsible for got out again and are in our way of building the new camp.” Y/N just smiled and shook her head. She left the cow’s stall and made her way outside where she saw the chickens grazing on the ground. She quietly walked over and with no issues she was able to pick up the first chicken, then the second, and so on till they were returned back to their coop.

“They aren’t afraid of us so they are easy to round back up.” She told him closing the coop door.

“It doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t happen.” He barked at her. Ever since she arrived at the glade two months ago, Gally has had something against her, she wasn’t sure what she did and she is convinced it was nothing.

“Accidents happen Gally…it was taken care of.” It was as if she insulted him, she threw his hands in their air.

“Accidents can’t happen Y/N, accidents are what gets us killed out here!” His tone was harsh, he was shouting in her face. She tried to back away from him, but she was trapped by the chicken coop.

“I-I’m sorry…I-“

“Back off Gally.” It was Winston, she closed her eyes and sighed in relief when Gally moved away from her.

“Tell her to get it together or she goes out in the maze because she’s useless here she might as well be useless out there.” His words stung, she felt the tears form in her eyes. She looked down and felt the hot tears drip down her cheeks.

“Get the hell out of here Gally.” Winston told him.

“I’m serious Winston.” Gally warned.

“Excuse me.” Y/N said she pushed past the two boys, she ran to her bunk and laid down in her hammock.

Y/N sat beside Chuck and the new boy Thomas during dinner, avoiding any glares from Gally.

“I heard Stella will be giving birth soon.” Chuck said.

“Any day now.” Y/N spoke.

“I can’t wait, I’ve never seen a baby cow before-“

“That’s if she can keep it alive long enough.” She heard Gally mumble, abusing his building buddies to laugh. Y/N looked over at him, a smile of amusement on his face. She couldn’t take it anymore, she couldn’t keep letting him treat her this way and think it was okay. She stood up, she walked around, and he laughed, thinking she would just leave and let him win. Not this time. She took a full cup of water from the table discreetly and made her way towards him, from behind him she poured the cup over his head, the cold water falling onto him. He quickly shot up, she moved away and glared up at him.

“What the hell!” He shouted.

“I am done with you treating me like this.” She told him calmly.

“Then stop screwing up everything you do.”

“Last time I checked the chickens keep escaping from the coop that you and your goons built.” A few people in the room laughed, which Gally didn’t like.

“You want to act tough now?” He stepped closer to her and got in her face. “Don’t get scared now, it’s just getting good.”

“Enough, the two of you. Come with me now.” It was the voice of Gally.

Y/N walked behind Alby with her head down. She doesn’t like to cause issues, she also doesn’t like to bother Alby. He led them into the main cabin where they held meetings.

“Why are you two are constantly going at each other?“ Alby asked.

“Alby I am sorry for what I did-“

“Why are you apologizing to him? I am the one who has water all over them.” Gally said.

“I am not sorry for what I did to you…I am sorry for causing a scene. I am not apologizing for that.”

“You two need to learn to get along. We are building and sustaining a community, a community that needs to get along.” Alby said to them.

“Tell that to him.”

“I don’t need to get along with anyone to keep surviving. She is always doing something that messes with either my guys and I or someone else.”

“That’s not true.” She argued.

“Tell that to the crops we had to trash last week because your damn cow got loose.”

“Because of the loose hinge you put on her stall. Winston is the one who fixed it properly.”

“Now I can’t do my job right?” He was getting heated again and Alby stepped between the two.

“I’m just saying stop coming for me when you make mistakes too.”

“The only mistake I’ll make is not getting rid of you when I have the chance.”

“Enough Gally…go cool off.” Alby ordered him. Y/N remained silent, how was she supposed to react to that?

Days went by and Y/N kept to herself and work. She made sure nothing happened with the chickens, the livestock, and herself. She decided to work late today because she was avoiding Gally by any means and sometimes that meant late dinners. She sat with Stella who was laying down, she was close to giving birth and Y/N didn’t want to leave her side.

“Why aren’t they closing!?” She heard shouting, she got up and peeked out of the barn, she noticed the maze doors weren’t closed, normally at the time they were. Panic was flooding the Glade.

“I swear this is Greenie's fault.” She heard the voice of Gally, always finding someone to blame. “We need to get those doors closed.” Y/N was about to leave the barn till she heard the most terrifying screech.

Grievers.

She knew staying in the barn wasn’t a safe option for her or the livestock. She quietly walked into the chaos, avoiding being seen. She had to find a safe place to hide. Around her were cries for help, screaming from fear. She found herself at the meeting hall, she thought this could be a safe place till she heard snarling from behind her.

Her body froze. She slowly turned around. A Griever had his stinger up ready to impale her. It creeped closer and as it did, she would step back. It let out the worst growl that made her cover her ears, this was the end. She waited for the pain to start, for the stinger to stab her, but it never happened. She opened her eyes and saw Gally standing above the now dead creature, a large wooden steak in its head.

“Gally.” She spoke. He moved away from the Griever and towards her. Despite what the two have been going through, she didn’t care. She ran towards him and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” She felt tears fall from her eyes. She wasn’t expecting him to return the hug, but he did. Within seconds she felt safe in his embrace.

“Let’s find the others.” He pulled away from her, clearing his throat, she nodded her head and followed him.

The night was long but eventually the sun rose and the Grievers retreated back into the maze. Y/N listened as a meeting was being commenced, many were dead, including their leader Alby. Gally was on a rampage, he was impossible to reason with. She listened as he wanted to send Thomas into the maze, convinced he was the reason for this happening. Newt couldn’t get a word in to try to calm anyone down.

“You know what…do what you guys want. That’s what will happen anyways.” Gally spoke.

“We can’t stay here anymore Gally. The doors won’t close anymore, it’s our chance to find a way out.” Thomas said.

“We know a way.” Minho added. “With numbers we can make it out there.”

“What numbers, we lost too many last night.” Gally argued.

“We shouldn’t fight about this.” Y/N spoke up.

“I agree, we need to vote.” Newt added.

“Go ahead and vote.” Gally left the meeting, Y/N quickly followed behind.

“What happened with the two of them last night?” Chuck asked.

“Gally…now isn’t the time to run off.” She grabbed his hand to stop him from walking any further.

“Go back Y/N. Last night didn’t make us friends.”

“I know…and that is fine but I mean it. We need to figure out what our next step is.” He snatched his hand away roughly.

“There is no “our” or “we”. Go back to them and just leave.”

“Not without you.” She choked, she never would admit it to herself but she always had feelings for Gally. Despite the way he treated her, but now, she could lose him and she couldn’t bare that.

“You don’t need me out there.”

“I do, I needed you last night and you were there. Any time something needed to be fixed in the barn you were right there or when the animals got loose. You are always there.”

“What are you going on about?“

“Are you that oblivious Gally?”

“No, I’m just sparing you from getting hurt.” He told her. “Go with them.” She shook her head no. If being with him meant staying in the Glade, then she would.

“You don’t want to stay here. You want to leave and I’m not going to be the reason you regret your decision.” He stepped closer to her.

“Then come with us. It’s not safe here anymore.” She argued. “We can see what is out there, beyond the Glade.”

“Y/N go with them.” He pushed. She gently took his hand in hers, searching for any reason why he would stay, was he scared? Too prideful? “When I said I would get rid of you…I didn’t mean it.” She smiled, knowing this was going to be a goodbye. She nodded her head, tears blurring her vision, he released her hand and wiped her tears. She leaned into his touch, not wanting to forget what it felt like.

“Just don’t…don’t disappear because when we find help I’ll make sure se come back-“

“I know, I know I couldn’t escape you that easily.” He joked, his laugh was stale and painful. “You should go.” She looked up at him, everything in her wanted to lean up and kiss him, but she knew that would make it harder to leave. He let her go and back away.

“I…I’ll be back okay.” He nodded his head, knowing that was going to a promise not kept.

Leaving the maze wasn’t easy, she never imagined she would be stepping foot into the death trap, but there she was, running for her life trying to keep up. It wasn’t till they reached an old building that they knew they were safe.

At least that is what they thought. Y/N held tightly onto Chuck’s, the building they entered was a lab, with the word WCKD all over it.

“What does WCKD mean?” Chuck asked.

“I don’t know but I have a feeling we will find out soon.” Thomas answered.

“No you won’t.” Everyone turned, Gally was standing there with a gun pointed at Thomas. Y/N gripped Chuck.

“Gally, how did you find us?” Newt asked. “And the gun?”

“Tell them the truth Thomas, I know who you really are and they have to know. Tell them how you work for WCKD.” Gally cocked the gun.

“He was stung.” Chuck whispered.

“I don’t know who WCKD is Gally.” Thomas reasoned. “I am just like you, I don’t have any memory before the Glade.”

“Gally put the gun down.” Y/N spoke.

“This is to protect all of you.” Within seconds disaster struck, Minho threw a spear at Gally, impaling him, the gun shot off and Y/N felt the grip in her loosen, Chuck fell to the ground. It was a blur to Y/N, Thomas was on the ground holding Chuck in his arms, blood covered the poor boy. She looked towards Gally, the gun laying beside him, his eyes barely open. She ran to him, kneeLing down. His body was covered with dark veins, the spear gorged into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He cried. Blood dripped from his mouth. She gently stroked his cheek, wiping his tears like he did for her back at the Glade.

“It wasn’t you. It was the sting.” She assured him, he began to cough, she knew this wasn’t good for him.

“Is he okay?” He asked, she knew who he was referring to, she turned back to Thomas, he had placed Chuck on the ground, crying over the boy's limp body.

“Shh, it’s alright.” She gripped his hand. Blood everywhere. She was about to say something but the sound of the lab door swung open, she looked and a swarm of men in military armor barged the room, snatching the group up. She looked back at Gally, his eyes were closed. She tried to stay with him. She felt a set of arms wrap around her waist and pull her away from. She cried and lashed around trying to break free but it was useless. She took one more glance at the Gally before he was out of her sight.

There will be part two soon!

#the maze runner #tmr fandom #tmr x reader #gally maze runner #tmr gally #gally x reader

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batmanrogues-scenarios · 10 months

Note

Any rogues react on their S/O, upon seeing someone trying to flirt with them, take said rogues and walk away with them, saying something like "I'm way too petty to share you with someone else"?

Aww, love jealous trope.

Too Pretty To Share

Black Mask

He just smirked when lady flirted with him, he knows he's a hot shot.

Was confused when S/O takes him away but when they say why he just laughs.

He agrees 100%. He grabs their hips and kisses their neck. Nothing to worry about, his eyes are the best prize.

Riddler

Once someone flirts with him he puffs like a peacock.

That is until S/O just drags him away. Hey-! What's happening.

Once he realizes they're jealous he has shit eating grin.

"I hate to admit it but you're right. I need to be with the prettiest one."

Mr Freeze

Confused by it, he doesn't really register it as flirting. Just thinks they're really friendly.

Asks if everything is alright, worried if something happened.

In this version S/O says they're too pretty to share him with anyone but Nora and Victor is confused.

They don't have to worry, he's not interested in anyone else.

BTAS Talia Al Ghul

She's used to people being interested in her, she even takes pride in it.

Asks if there's something S/O needs and hearing explanation she just laughs.

Oh her sweet habib albi, she would never choose another over them.

Just showers them in affection to prove it.

#pati writes #black mask x reader #roman sionis x reader #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #mr freeze x reader #victor fries x reader #talia al ghul x reader #btas talia al ghul

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

I'm out of ideas but I really need more of Minho. But here's another one: So female reader and Minho were running partners but also a oowerful couple that went throw a lot during the maze, the scorch and the death cure...but before they get to the Safe Haven reader sonehow gets seriously injured and ends up dying on Minho's arms and it's all angst and fluff.

Alright, damn, this is brutal.

Time to break some hearts I guess.

This is based on the Movies for simplicity's sake because I haven't read TDC in a long time and if I remember quickly, things get pretty messy at the end very fast. I'm pretty familiar with the first book because it's my favourite, but man, it's been a while with the others. I seriously need to pick them up again.

That being said, I am providing today, this is long. I mean, of course it is, I'm covering three movies here.

ALL YOU HAVE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some vague references to suggestive stuff, kinda depressing, you're dead bro, long.

You were the first thing Minho ever loved. Maybe he loved someone or something before the Maze, but he didn't care. He had you, and that was all that mattered.

From the day you showed up in the Box, shouting at anyone that would do as much as looked at you for too long, completely on edge but willing to stand your ground- Minho knew. He knew that you were going to be massive parts in one another's lives. Whether that be friends, enemies, rivals or lovers.

It didn't really matter; he just knew it would be strong. And it was. God, it was.

You meant the world to him. You were literally his everything.

So now, as the Last City burns around him, how is he meant to move forward as you bleed out in his arms?

His life before this moment- everything you've been through, flashes in front of his eyes.

He'll never forget the first time you spoke to him.

"I want to be a Runner."

It was early in the morning, far too early for the majority of the Glade to be classed as functioning people. Minho used to enjoy the mornings; it was one of the only moments where he could be in the Glade without being asked endless questions or being harassed. The downside of being popular I guess.

He didn't even hear you approach him. He was too busy focusing on the Doors, waiting for them to open as Ben stretched obnoxiously, like he was actually achieving something.

"What?" He turned around to face you, blankly blinking as his heart jumped into his throat.

You hadn't even said hello. Truth be told, you were nervous at the time. Everyone talked about Minho like he was some kind of God, but if you wanted to be out there, you had to talk to him. Alby thought you were crazy when you told him. But he couldn't blame you, it would serve as a break from the peering eyes and painful flirting.

And a much needed vice for your exceedingly growing pent-up energy.

"I said I want to be a Runner."

"You want to be a Runner?" Ben scoffed, butting in before Minho had so much as a chance to even process what was happing. "You sure you're up to it, girly? The Maze is no place for a lady."

You went to open your mouth to snap at the other boy, but Minho beat you to it.

"Slim it, Ben, do you have to be such a shuck-face all the damn time?"

You were shocked that someone actually defended you. And he defended you in a way that didn't also put you down or turn into a creepy comment.

"You want to be a Runner, eh?"

"That's what I just said, isn't it? I've already spoken to Alby about it." Minho scoffed at that. You were defensive and sharp, clearly not wanting to deal with anyone more than you had to.

"Alright, alright, what did Alby say?"

"He told me to ask you. Says you know more than he does."

Of course, that was the one time Alby let Minho actually call the shots.

"Uh," the sound of the Doors rumbling quickly reminded Minho of what he was there to do, "listen, we're full on Runners at the minute, but if anyone gets hurt or quits or some klunk, I'll come find you, okay?"

You weren't sure when you first started to crush on Minho, but you'd be lying if you weren't at least slightly excited to spend time with him. Especially after another Runner had enough and Minho kept his promise.

He was a good teacher. And a great Keeper.

You were the first person in a long time that Minho actually enjoyed teaching. You learnt quick, did as you were told and easily kept up. You had decent stamina and were curious to learn, but you occasionally cracked jokes and effortlessly kept up conversation with him.

You learnt fast that, despite it being his job, Minho did not like talking about the Maze. What he thinks it all means and where you were there and shit like that? He didn't want to hear it.

So, you spoke about other things.

You were eager to learn about him.

It always caught him off guard when you seemed genuinely interested in what his favourite colour was, or what he'd do if you were on the outside and he won the lottery, or what job he'd like to do if he weren't a Runner. It was... nice.

Minho had always been popular because of what he did, but someone being actually interested in him? That was almost unheard of.

You also cared about his life in the Glade. You were always there to lend an ear to his rants about Gally or even his frustrations about stunted progress.

And, to your surprise, he returned it.

You spent hours complaining about the other boys and how they'd hit on you, or how Alby didn't trust you to make your own choices.

Even once you'd finished your training, Minho made the executive decision to make you his running partner, and you definitely weren't complaining. It's kind of hard to spend that much time with someone and not gain some sort of connection with them.

The more time you spent together, the more you noticed Minho's irritation when someone else would hit on you, and you would spend dinner together. You could even be found hiding somewhere during Bonfire nights, chuckling amongst yourselves and having a bit too much to drink.

"Dude, are you fucking (Y/N)?" Minho nearly chocked on his food when Ben asked him that question.

"What? The shuck are you talkin' 'bout?"

You'd left to go take a shower and Ben had taken the opportunity to interrogate his friend.

"You guys are always together- I'm just picking up a vibe, bro. I can feel the tension between you shanks."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He did. Absolutely, he did. He spent so much time staring at you. You got back once on a particularly hot day, and you took your shirt off, leaving you in your sports bra. It wasn't like it was anything revealing, but that image kept Minho up for weeks.

"Hey, Newt," Ben called over the blond boy to add some more perspective, "do you think there's some sexual tension between Minho and (Y/N)?"

"Wha- Ben! Shut up, man!"

"Oh yeah," Newt snorted, "have you ever been in the same room as them? Bloody hell, you could cut the tension with a knife. You're a lucky shank, Minho- almost everyone here would love to be in your position."

Minho groaned, "You're looking too much into it- there's shuck all going on there. Slim it, both of ya."

Minho couldn't help noticing it after that. The way you'd look at him and the way you acted differently around him. Not only did he notice it, but he loved it.

The other boys were jealous of him and it was definitely a flex. But most importantly, he was seriously gaining feelings for you. Sure, he was a horny teenage boy and you thought about you in some more... intimate ways. But he also just liked being with you.

Things came ahead after you both had a brush in with a Griever. Honestly, the fact that both of you made it out alive without getting stung was a miracle.

And that was the first time you kissed him.

"Shuck me," he hissed, "that was close, too shuckin' close." Minho was doubled over, trying to catch his breath whilst you did the same.

You didn't respond to him. Your brain was moving at a million miles an hour- but all you could think about was what you'd do if you lost Minho.

"Hey? You okay?" Minho managed to ask once you'd both calmed down, in a much safer part of the Maze that was closer to the Glade. "You seem kind of-"

"Can I kiss you?" Minho froze completely- that was the last thing he was expecting. But he didn't hesitate.

"Yes." You stepped towards him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. You became nervous for a second, halting yourself as your noses bumped. He closed the space, resulting in a peck, which very quickly turned into a heated kiss.

You and Minho didn't start officially dating for about a month after that. Sure, you'd have secret make-out sessions and you spent a lot of time in his hut together. Suspiciously so.

But it wasn't until another Glader tried to make a move on you did Minho come over and kiss you in the middle of a Bonfire. It shocked everyone and whilst you never really officially asked each other out- there wasn't much of a question.

You both started to refer to the other as boy/girlfriend after that anyway.

You spent pretty much all day, every day together, but you were also both protective over each other. Minho became your personal guard dog and people tended to leave Minho be if you were with him.

You were a fairly physical couple- your first "I love you" being whispered between bated breath and heated kisses, which led to both of your first times.

That was also a night that Minho holds fondly. Not because he'd actually lived to have sex, but because he had you. He'd never felt closer to anyone, and it was the first instance of real physical intimacy, and it just showed him how much you truly did love him.

He also loved just having a "normal" life with you in the Glade. It was almost homely, and you made him work harder and more determined to figure out the Maze so you could escape and live a happy life outside of the hellscape.

He probably fantasised more about owning a house with you than he did meeting his parents again.

Then Thomas showed up.

And shit hit the fan.

Once Minho and Alby went out into the Maze that day, and Thomas played saviour, something changed in the Maze.

Minho survived purely because he couldn't die without saying goodbye to you. He wasn't going to let that happen.

And he didn't.

"Minho!" He didn't even care that he'd dumped Alby onto Thomas, or how much pain he was in when he saw you running towards him.

You almost sent him flying as you dove into his arms, tears streaming down your face. "I thought you were dead, you shank."

"Hey," he soothed you, puking your face up to meet his, "I'm okay." He kissed you.

He kissed you like he'd never kissed you before, and he'd never kiss you again.

Things moved fast after that. You and Minho showed Thomas the ropes, using a key from that dead Griever to unlock a new area.

And before you knew it, you were free. Surely there was a brutally traumatising fight with the Grievers.

And Gally lost his mind and killed Chuck. You'd lost Alby, Zart, Chuck, Jeff and Gally- who had been speared by Minho.

It was a bittersweet day. One that you wouldn't be forgetting any time soon, but Minho had you. So, he knew he could pull though.

Then you got separated. Janson pulled you and Teresa away from the boys. They took Teresa somewhere else and shoved you into a room with a group of girls you didn't know.

So, you were beyond thrilled to reunite with them during meals. It was weird being surrounded by so many new people- and so many girls. But Minho didn't care. Why would he? He had you.

You weren't exactly shocked when Thomas attacked a guard and got everyone thrown back in their rooms. What you didn't expect was when the alarms went off less than an hour later.

And you knew you had to break out.

You waited patiently, a knife stole for protection hidden up your sleeve. The door swung open, revealing an armed guard doing room checks in light of the alarms blaring. You stabbed him through the mask, square in the face, kicking him in the groin and stealing the gun he held. Along with his key card.

You had to be fast, bolting through through corridors and trying to avoid getting caught. You didn't know why you were escaping, but Thomas seemed adamant that something bad was going on.

So when you skidded down a corridor, spotting your friends, boyfriend, and Teresa on the other side of a pane of glass, cornered, you obviously had to smash it. Slamming a chair against the window, you scared the shit out of everyone there, who were too busy trying to fight guards breaking into the room.

"Hi," you grinned. Minho's lopsided smile made your heart melt.

He'd been terrified something had happened to you. With Thomas being too hell-bent on finding Teresa and the group already having split up, he was waiting for the perfect opportunity to break away and save you.

But he didn't need to. You could save yourself.

Your escape to the Scorch was traumatic and feverish, escaping to a wolf in sheep's clothing abandoned mall that ended up being full of Cranks.

Minho did everything in his power to stay by your side during your escape- and through your rough time through the Scorch.

Realising Winston had gotten infected was another hard blow. Because it meant not all of you were immune.

But you had to keep going. You and Minho spent a lot of time with your hands tangled together, sleeping curled up on the sand, using Minho's arm as a pillow.

That was until Minho got hit by lightning.

"Minho!" You screeched, scrambling to your boyfriend with the help of Thomas. He was out cold- he body warm and limp as you dragged him into a nearby shelter.

"Oh my God, Minho!" He was dropped to the floor, you quickly on your knees, shaking his body as tears started to prick your eyes. "Minho! Wake up!"

"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his face, "what happened?"

You blinked at him, exchanging glaces with Thomas, who seemed equally dumbfounded.

"You got struck by lightning," you stated, rather blunt.

"Oh."

Honestly, Brenda scared the shit out of all of you. You all blindly followed her, with little choice to do otherwise.

Minho held you close at all times, staring down anyone that so much looked at you wrong.

Once you met Jorge and Thomas decided he had a lot to say- you ended up strung up from the ceiling.

Some circus stunts were required to escape, and the whole thing is kind of a blur. Befriending Jorge and Brenda, only to lose Brenda and Thomas and find them the next day passed out in a random building.

Though, hopes of finding the Safe Haven kept Minho going. Just a little bit further, and he could have a happy life with you.

And you joined the other groups moving to the paradise pretty easily. There was a couple of bumps along the way, but you were all sitting around talking.

You even bumped into some of the girls from another Maze that you were dorming with, choosing to spend some time with them and letting the boys have their fun.

"I shuckin' knew it," Newt scoffed, dropping his head as Minho raised his eyebrow at him, exchanging a confused look with Thomas. The four boys ended up sitting on a higher ledge, away from the crowds. They'd had a rough few days- and with Brenda being bitten, Thomas had to play savior once again.

It was a much needed break.

"Knew what?" Minho dared to inquire.

"That you'd fall for her."

Minho snorted a laugh. "Slim it, alright? I don't need to hear this klunk again."

"Yeah, Newt," Frypan chimed in, "it was obvious- you ain't smart."

"It was not."

"Yes, it was."

"How obvious was it?" Thomas couldn't help but smirk, watching the normally confident boy grow red. "I wasn't there to see most of it."

"Well-"

"Enough!" Minho immediately silenced them, earning a round of chuckles.

"Gotta say, man," Frypan let out a satisfied sigh, his eyes landing on you as you spoke to Harriet, Sonya, and Aris. "You are one lucky shank. You managed to pull a girl like that? I don't know how you control yourself."

"Watch it," Minho warned him, and Fry feigned innocence, holding his hands up, but the smirk never left his lips.

"He's got a point," Minho punched Thomas in the arm, earning a stiffled laugh from Newt.

"Shut up, slinthead, you've got two girls all over you."

"I don't think that's- whatever. It's not the same. I don't have what you two have."

Minho fell into silence, making all the other boys look at each other, confusion clear on their faces.

"Yeah, well," Minho shrugged, "you're not gonna, are ya?"

"What do you mean?"

Minho took a second to compose himself, rubbing his face in his hands because he knew he'd be bullied for what he was going to say.

"Because I love her, dude," he awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, "I'm in love with her. She means the shuckin' world to me- and I know I sound like a damn sissy but you better not say klunk because it's the truth. I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with that girl- I just know I am." He paused, taking in his friends' expressions, which were a mix of pride and cringing.

"And I wouldn't want it any other way."

Then Teresa betrayed you all. Chaos destroyed the camp, lining you all up in preparation to force you onto the Berg. Thomas appeared, holding a bomb he'd stolen from Jorge, and was more than prepared to take this whole thing to the ground.

Minho looked at you, and watched in disbelief as you joined the boy. So, of course, Minho didn't hesitate to mimick your bravery.

He'd decided that if you couldn't live together, then at least you wouldn't get taken by WCKD. He wouldn't let it, and he would be with you I'm a sense.

Luckily, Brenda and Jorge came in clutch, giving you all an opportunity to escape.

Minho grabbed a gun, protecting everyone from the WCKD guards.

"Minho! Come on!" You shouted at your boyfriend, all of you shuffling behind him as you gained the upper hand.

Minho was always reckless when it came to protecting you, and this was no different.

"Get back! Go!" He shouted, but the victory was short-lived as he was hit with a Launcher. Seizing, his body fell to the floor.

"Minho!" You screeched, bolting forward, only to be stopped my Frypan as the guards picked up his unconscious form. "Minho!"

Your knees hit the floor as you watched them drag your soul mate away.

Minho doesn't like remembering the next part of his life. The torture. The pain. The experiments. He doubts he'll ever get over it.

But his thoughts of you pulled him through. He had to get back to you- he had to know you were okay.

It's all a complete blur of constant fear and pain now.

Minho knew he had to escape. One way or another, but that was hard when he was constantly in and out of consciousness. He did everything he could to escape, including attacking Teresa.

When the building went on lockdown and Minho wasn't fully sedated, he took the opportunity to escape.

You, on the other hand, had an interesting six months.

You'd completely changed in that time. You'd taken a Leader role along with Thomas and Vince. You and Thomas formed a plan to go save Minho, and Newt and Frypan ended up tagging along.

Finding out Gally was alive was a hell of a shock- but he proved himself useful and a plan was quickly set in motion.

Added problems of Newt being infected and having to remove chips from your necks made things harder. But if you could save Minho, get Newt a Flare buffer like you'd done for Brenda and could get to the Safe Haven- you might have been able to actually pull it off.

But, for a second, it didn't matter when you rounded that corner in WCKD's building and watched your boyfriend throw a guard through a window.

He stared at you, blinking for a second before you ran forward, throwing your arms around him as Minho grunted.

It only took Newt and Thomas a second to crash into the both of you, engulfing you into a group hug.

"Is this real?" Minho looked between you and your friends, and something about the question broke your heart.

You had to move pretty quickly after that, having no time for a proper reunion. You managed to escape after a daring stunt jumping through a window and Gally helped you escape again.

Much to Minho's complete confusion.

With the city falling around you all and Newt's growing infection rate, you really had no choice to run.

You, Minho and Gally ran to Brenda, retrieving the buffer to give to Newt. But it was too late.

Minho's knees hit the floor as Thomas disappeared into the flames. Newt's lifeless body was lay on the concrete, bulbous purple veins covering him, his eyes black and a knife sticking out of his chest.

Your hands came to Minho's shoulders, crouching behind him and wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to offer some sort of comfort.

"I'm sorry, Minho," you sighed, trying not to cry yourself, "but we need to leave- we can't stay here."

He looked at you, tears pooling in his eyes, he nodded.

You, Minho, Brenda, Frypan and Gally all started to make your way back to the Berg, desperately trying to get through the endless round of gunshots and brutality.

If Minho would have know that these would be his last moments with you, he probably wouldn't have taken the lead.

"Minho," you hiss, a sharp pain shotting through the front of your chest. You don't know where it came from and you're mere metres away from the Berg. But as you look down, blood pouring out of your chest and soaking your shirt, your body suddenly feels very weak.

Your boyfriend turns to face you, his face turn pale as he watches you stumble backwards. "No, no, no!" He rushes forward, managing time catch you before you hit the floor. "No, (Y/N) come one, stay with me."

"Minho," a coppery taste fills your mouth, coughing slightly as you reach up to touch his face. "I love you."

"No," he can't do this again. He can't lose you and Newt. He struggles, picking you up and hooking his arms under yours. "Frypan! Help me!"

The boy struggles to get to you, shielding himself as he grabs your legs. People scramble around you, pulling you onto the Berg and trying to avoid further injury, but it's no use.

"Someone, please do something!" Tears stream down his face. He's only just got you back- he can't lose you again.

You lightly touch his hand as Jorge and Vince shout something about having to find Thomas due to the revelation he's vanished.

But Minho doesn't care. How could he? The love of his life, the girl he spent all his time dreaming about marrying and having a life with, is dying in his arms.

"Please," he begs, "please don't leave me, (Y/N)," it's a hard scene to watch. Brenda and Frypan stand nearby, Brenda's hand covers her mouth, trying not to cry and Fry stoically watches on.

"I love you," he collapses on your chest, sobs shaking his entire body. He doesn't have the energy to even try to pretend to be tough anymore. He's been tortured for months and has lost his best friend and now is watching his girlfriend die in front of him.

"I love you.. too," your hand comes to his face once again, making him pull away and look at you. He presses his forehead to yours, tears hitting your now colourless face as the blood drains from your features.

As much as it hurts, you lean further up, taking all of your strength to brush your nose against his. He takes the hint and kisses you.

Your lips connect for one last time.

He pulls away, looking at you and you offer him a very weak smile. "You're gonna be okay, Minho. I know it. I love you."

"I love you, too," his voice breaks, staring at you as the life finally fades from your eyes, your breathing stills and your body falls limp.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)!" He shakes your corpse, his world crumbling around him as Frypan puts his hand on his shoulder, crouching down next to him.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Minho." He brings his arms around the deverstated boy and Minho embraces him as Brenda joins them both.

The three mourn together.

"We have to save Thomas before we move to the Safe Haven!" Vince shouts from the cockpit. "I'm sorry, but we need to."

It's all a blur to Minho- static in his head as he clings to the only friends he has present, hysterics completely taking over him.

You're gone. The first thing he ever loved- gone.

He knows he has to keep going, because that's what you would want him to do.

But right now, he lets himself break. You were all he had.

And you're gone.

This was absolutely brutal to write and I made myself sad lmao, but it was interesting to write something other than spice. Anyway, sorry if I made anyone upset but this is what you get when you ask for for angst.

I'm sorry.

Hope you enjoyed :)

#🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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at1nys-blog · 1 year

Text

Freedom

pt.1

Pairing: Crows x fem!reader; Pekka Rollins x daughter!reader

Summary: leaving home is not easy, not when your father is no other than Pekka Rollins but help cames in the name of Kaz Brekker.

Masterlist

Part 2

You didn't know when everything changed. Maybe it was when Alby your little brother came into the dynamics of the family and you were left on the sides. Maybe it was when you went out, not saying a word to anyone and came back way after dinner. Or it was when you spoke back to your father about your ideal future and dreams.

You wanted to see the world, you wanted to escape the golden cage you were raised in. You wanted freedom and to write your own story, away from your father's name.

You had spent three weeks, strolling around the streets of Katterdam trying to remember every turn to the Crows Club so when the time was right you would ask for help to Kaz Brekker.

"Where are you going?" asked Alby seeing you heading out the farm

"Just taking a walk. Tell mother I'll be back for dinner." you said, taking your sachet you walked out ready to walk around the market of Katterdam.

Unknown to you, the second you walked into the market, both Inej and Jesper started to follow you. The first by jumping from roof to roof, while the latter walking around the streets of the city always some miles of distance to not drag your attention into him.

It was after some time, when the sun was finally down, and you were mere blocks away from the Crows Club that you felt someone following you in the dark, and before you could phantom what was happening strong arms shoved you into a lateral hallway, hidden from curios eyes but a couple.

"Little Rollins, what are you doing here all alone?" you recognized the voice as of one of your father's underlings, you had heard his voice too many times to not recognise it.

"Out for a walk. Everyone at home knows that" you retored.

"Not your father. He got a glimpse of you in the market and asked me to follow you. For some protection, you undersatand right?" you were happy that you didn't went into Kaz's club sooner or at this point your father's men were going to let all Hell let loose. "Now, why would you take a walk here and not around your pretty farm?" you were ready, you had thought something like this would happen so you studied and memorized the best answers to give.

"I like to see what the sellers have in their stalls. I might be in need of new clothes or fabbric, but what do you understand." he lifted an arm and you were ready to get hitten, pretty sure your father gave them permission to hit you, but it never came.

"Hitting a pretty lady in a dark halley like this is not very gentlemanly, isn't now?" said a voice behind you, followed by shot of his gun. The bullet flying very close to the man's hand making him falling back and finally realising you from his grip.

"This has nothing to do with you." he said, running to get him, but the sharpshooter was faster and fired another shot at his opponents, this time hitting the man in his right shoulder blade. Another shoot, another gasp leaving your lips and this time the man that attacked you mere seconds ago was now standing on the ground, grounting for the pain, but it lasted less than a minute becuase the gunslinger ended his soffuring with yet another shoot.

"Now..." a knive was on your throat in a second, the scare making you jump out of your skin. "why Pekka Rollins' daughter is coming to town every single day?" the voice behind you asked but the only thing you said before anything else was asking if she was Inej Ghafa, Kaz's Wraith. "How do you know my name?"

"My father is obsessed with you guys, he is always like Kaz Brekker and his crows this and Kaz Brekker and his crows that. Is annoying." you said trying to light up the mood of the situation you currently were.

"I like her."

"Thanks, I like your guns' game." you complimented the man. "Now, if is not too much to ask I would like to see Kaz. I need some help" you added. Inej and Jesper looked at each other unsure of what to do next. You, Pekka Rollins' daughter, their boss' enemy, were asking to see him.

"Jesper, this is stupid. Do you know how many things could go wrong? What if Rollin's man are following us?" said Inej, once she met up with the boy inside the club.

"You would have noticed" you and Jesper said in unison, the guy smiled at you saying how much he loved all of this, the Wraith rolled her eyes and walked in the back of the club to get Kaz. "keep the wood up, people like to talk and if they see you are here with me chaos will unfold." he said, your hands fell on the table in front of you and so your head.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I really need the help. If I go somewhere else my fath-" you weren't able to finish your sentence that gloved hand gripped your wrist and dragged you away from the bar.

Entering a little studio, you managed to understand Kaz's studio, the man you were trying to reach all this time closed the door with such sstrenght you thought he broke it, but no.

"You want me dead?" he said first thing first sitting in his chair. You were about to answer but he was faster. "Coming here as nothing happened, after weeks keeping an eye on me and my club." of course he noticed, why would he? "Are you here to spy on me for your father?"

"NO" you screamed. "No, for all Saints no. I know you don't believe me, for I share his last name but please give the benefit of the doubt and..." you cleared your throat, you had to choose your words wisely, it was of no help imposing your reasoning to him. "Could you at least hear what I have to say? Why I came for your help?" he run his hand over his blonde hair, sighing but letting you talking.

After saying everything he asked you to wait there and most importantly to not touch a single thing in the room. He gave you a quick glance before leaving and locking the door behind. You thought it was for precaution, you thought too many drunk people had walked into his private room exchanging it for a bathroom or whatever else.

You were growing impatient when louds noises started to come from the other side of the door and then you heard him. Your father, asking Kaz where his daughter was. The rest of the conversation didn't reach your ears, even because the beats of your heart was audible on top of everything. You started to look around, in a desperate need of a spot where to hide in case your father were to search the studio. Nothing. You started panicking, tears forming in your eyes as nothing seemed a good option.

It was when they came to the door that you thought you were doomed. You heard the key rumbling at the door and the handle moving a few times, you thought you were done. You pictured your father's face looking at you, mad like never before. You felt your skin burning at the thought of the beating. You felt ashemed at the thought of his insults. Thankfully Inej came in and helped you climbing to the roof of the Club. She hugged you, hidding your frame, you were shaking, scared that something could go wrong.

"Don't worry. We will help you." with that you started to silently sob into her shirt, both happy and relieved that everything was going as you planned.

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alby-rei · 1 year

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On Cloud Nine (Leonardo x Reader)

a/n: In which Leonardo takes you on a flight among the clouds in a hot-air balloon. Is it too late to call this a birthday fic for Leonardo, hahaha. It’s still April, after all! Written during a writing sprint over at @scummy-writes‘ server! I dedicate this story to @ana-thedaydreamer, for always fueling my desire to return to writing. Happy reading~ 💕

[Word count]: ~1300 words

~*~

The streets were bustling with people all around, as you and Leonardo walked beside the Seine river. The sun reflected little white stars on the water surface. The trees swayed with from a light breeze.

“And where are we going today?” you asked Leonardo.

“Somewhere new, it’s a surprise,” he replied.

Outdoor promenades were a routine for you two. Leonardo refused to keep you cooped up in the mansion any longer than he had to. He also made it a mission to do something different every outing. He led you down a new path that led outside of the main city. Buildings were replaced with trees; cobblestone gave way to a dirt path. There were other couples and groups heading in the same direction.

‘Some kind of new event?’ you wondered.

Your question was answered when you saw clusters of giant, colored balloons floating in the air. In the distance, a line of flags perched high came into view, and there were crowds of onlookers all across the open field. As you got closer, you noticed a vibrant sign with large bold letters that read, Fly across Paris—An outstanding view of our beautiful city!

“Hot-air balloons!” You looked up at Leonardo eagerly. “I’ve never been on one before.”

Leonardo grinned. “That makes two of us.”

You joined the line of people and waited patiently for your turn. It was getting rarer for you and Leonardo to find activities that were unfamiliar to both of you. Oftentimes, either Leonardo would introduce you to places and people from his past adventures, or you came across inventions that emerged at the turn of the 20th century that you were familiar with already.

You asked Leonardo a myriad of questions, like how he heard of this place and how long the trip on the balloon would be.

“Always ready with questions, aren’t you?” Leonardo chuckled and patted your head twice. Your excitement amused him to no end. He answered every question until the shadow of a balloon loomed over both of you.

Your turn drew near, so you focused your attention on the balloons themselves. Each one accommodated a group of six to seven passengers at a time. They were simply designed with a solid color, striped or checkered. One of the hosts ushered you and two other couples to his station. Time to board!

Leonardo helped you into the wide wicker basket, as the only way on was to climb over the edge. The basket’s height came up to your chest. High enough for you to feel secure. It was also sturdy, tied to the balloon with thick ropes around its perimeter.

Once everyone was in, the captain hoisted the anchor and turned up the burner’s flame.

“Woah!” You jolted when the basket wobbled slightly as it took off the ground. Two other ladies exclaimed the same way you did, which morphed into giggles when they were reassured by their partners.

“Nervous, amore?” The tight grip you had on his arm was enough of an indicator. He wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“A little, yes. But mostly excited!” You settled into a corner of the basket, watching intently as the ground surface got farther and farther away.

“Heh. Thought you said you traveled higher speeds than this back home,” he spoke low so that only you heard him. You had also told him that airplanes in the future would be fully enclosed in steel, and everyone was strapped in seatbelts.

“Definitely a different experience from this.”

Your fellow passengers waved at their friends who waited below. You tuned out their subsequent chatter as white noise.

Within minutes, you were as high as the clouds. Your eyes traveled the path that led you to this place. Then, you followed the stream of the Seine river that splits the city of Paris in two. The streets that you walked through almost daily looked so small from your new vantage point. All those days when you got lost while out on errands with Sebastian seemed so silly now. Crowds of pedestrians traveled across the bridge, all of their own individual journeys.

All of your looming worries and responsibilities were swept away by the wind. Speaking of which, being so high up meant the wind sent your hair flying in every which way. Try as you might to keep it down, it refused to be tamed.

“Let me.” Leonardo gathered your hair in his hands and tied it back in a braid, securing it with your ribbon. “Better?”

“Much better, thank you!”

With that taken care of, you could turn your full focus back on the breathtaking view of the city you’ve become so fond of.

“Look, Leonardo! There’s Jean’s weapons shop, and over there is Isaac’s university.”

“There’s our favorite lake behind the forest.”

“And the mansion, down there!”

The balloon traveled over le Comte’s mansion. Looking closely, you saw a figure standing in the courtyard with an easel—Vincent! Now it was your turn to wave enthusiastically the way the other ladies did earlier. He was facing your direction, though you figured you were probably too high up for him to recognize you. Plus, there were a handful of other balloons around yours.

Then, the balloon made its round trip back. This time, Leonardo pointed out the older buildings, and he described to you the architectural features that differentiated them from the new buildings.

He spent some time observing the interior of the balloon as well, and the way the captain steered it. He took out a little notebook from his coat pocket—a gift from you, so he’d always have a place to store his wildest ideas on hand. He wrote some notes, and you couldn’t help but look over.

“So, has the notebook been useful to you?” you asked.

“Absolutely. It’s where I write down all the places, I want to show you next.” His smile widened at the joyous shine in your eyes, made brighter by the sun’s generous light. Peering at his notes, you recognized the names of a couple cities, some even outside of France altogether. They didn’t seem so far away now. Traveling across the Parisian landscape made further trips feel within reach, like you drop by any minute.

Leonardo turned to a new page, where he sketched the view of the city on both pages. He started with the curve of the river, then outlined the major roads. Within each block, he masterfully crafted the impression of little homes, the Eiffel Tower, and the town square. You leaned against him and watched the world go by in serene quietness. Your fellow passengers spoke in hushed voices, too.

The sky was painted a gradient of reds, oranges, pinks and blues. The sun dipped below the horizon line. In the city underneath, the crowds thinned out as most people returned to their homes for dinner. Your stomach growled.

“Wow, an hour already.” You read from your wristwatch. “I’m getting hungry here.”

“Want to eat in town or back home?”

“Home! I can’t wait to tell everyone about our trip. I wonder how they’d react to traveling by balloon like this.” You mused.

When you returned home, you saw Vincent at the mansion’s entrance. He carried a fresh painting alongside his briefcase.

“Welcome home!” Vincent greeted. “Did you see the colorful balloons in the sky? It was the first time I’d ever seen something like that. I knew I had to paint them right away.”

He showed you the painting. The scene was recreated with the wondrously unique vision that Vincent perceived the world in. You instantly recognized the balloon you traveled in. There was a little figure with an arm raised in the air. You smiled broadly.

“Haha, would you look at that. There I am!” You surprised him with your declaration, prompting you to recount the events of the trip to him on your way to the dining room.

It was Vincent’s turn to spring all kinds of questions on you during dinner time. The other residents were just as eager to hear all about it. Isaac and Napoleon were keen to go check it out, too. On the other hand, Theo and Mozart were less enthused by the thought of being thousands of meters away from solid ground. You were sure you could find a way to drag them all along on your next trip.

~*~

a/n: if you made it this far, thanks for reading! I thought of starting a taglist for my writing. I don’t upload nearly as frequently as I used to, so I’d like my readers to be alerted when I do post, even if once in a blue moon! Comment below if you’d like to be added ^^

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#headcanon time! how do you see the other residents reacting to being on a hot air balloon?#alby one-shots #leonardo x reader #ikemen vampire #ikevamp fanfic #leonardo x you #leonardo x mc #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire leonardo

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arcadian-litterateur · 3 months

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rivers run dry | gally x oc

masterlist

summary: the four times gally cried in the glade, and one time he cried while escaping it.

word count: 4k

warnings: suicide, death, suicidal thoughts, nightmares, knives, blood, bodily fluids

a/n: so gally is my sweet baby boy and i have a feeling he masks his feelings and never lets himself cry. this one shot started out from that basic idea and then i decided to add in a love interest oc. jaelin is definitely flawed as you'll see, but she's also my baby and i will probably write more about her.

jaelin is named after "jael" from the bible. when israel was getting attacked by (some foreign army), the guy in charge of the israelite soldiers chickened out, and the leader of the attackers escaped, but jael, an israelite woman, lured him into her tent and was like "take a nap here while i make you a snack" and then while he was asleep she hammered a tent peg through his temple (he died lol). so she became the hero of the battle! pretty badass, if you ask me.

jaelin is played by jasmin savoy brown

In all his time in the Glade, Gally had only cried four times. He'd felt close to tears hundreds of times; at least once a week if not once a day, but the tears only fell four times. He only let them fall four times.

The first time Gally cried in the Glade was when he came up in the Box. He was jammed into the tight, confined space with what seemed to be twenty other boys, with no memory of who he was and the sinking feeling that he was hurtling up towards death. The smells of vomit, sweat, and urine mingled in the air, Gally unsure if his neighbor had pissed himself or if Gally himself was the culprit. When the Box slammed to a halt, the possibility that he'd pissed his pants became less of a priority, the crying and yelling of the boys pausing when a tall boy at the front climbed out of the Box to check their surroundings.

“It's a clearing, surrounded by walls too high to climb,” the boy observed, as he scanned the dark, evening-shadowed Glade. “But nothing too dangerous. It looks like it's made to be lived in.” At this affirmation of safety, the sweaty boys started clambering to leave the confined space. Gally hung back, not wanting to be trampled—or, considering his large frame, accidentally trample someone else. Eventually though, he was pulled out of the Box with the other stragglers, a wiry, tall boy with sharp eyes and brown hair taking control. Thin, wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Trying to assess the situation, the boy asked,

“Does anyone remember anything?” A chorus of names rang out but no other information seemed retrievable, some boys still at a loss for what their names were. Gally had remembered his name as an older, dark-skinned boy had helped him out of the Box. “I'm Nick,” the self-appointed leader stated. “That's all I remember, and it seems like whoever put us here might have made us forget everything on purpose.” A murmur of agreement rose amongst the group, one blond boy remarking,

“They've given us supplies to start a homestead in this Glade, whoever they are.” Gally noticed an interesting lilt in his voice. He was British. Gally also noticed that he was right. The supplies in the Box were for building; starting a life here…and that scared Gally.

The dark-skinned boy who'd helped Gally out of the Box was standing next to Nick, obviously taking the spot of Second-in-Command. He addressed the group, “My name's Alby. And I think this blondie here is right. What's your name, Blondie?”

“Newt,” the Brit answered.

“Like a lizard?” another kid spoke up. Newt rolled his eyes,

“No. It's short for Newton. I just have this feeling that I was always just Newt, before. Whatever before was.”

“Newt, it is, then,” the other boy shrugged. “I'm George.”

“Alright, introductions later,” Nick interrupted. “For now, let's unload the Box. Then we'll figure out where to go from there.” In robotic, shocked motions, the boys got to work, Gally's mind numb and void of memories, but buzzing with an odd feeling about something important.

It hit him then, how shitty and confusing this situation was. He felt so utterly alone. He had this sinking feeling that loneliness had been a common variable in his before, and he had a feeling that would remain true even now, in the Glade.

Much to Gally's chagrin, tears pricked his eyes as the panic caused by the amnesia found a grip around his heart. The boy tried to hold the tears back for as long as possible, but the desire—the need—to cry was overpoweringly large, and as quick as they'd formed, droplets were rolling down Gally's face and onto his shirt.

Gally was sobbing, and anyone could see him.

Newt was the only one brave enough to approach Gally. Every other boy in the Glade had shrunk back, obviously intimidated by Gally's height and strength, despite his current state. However, Gally's height advantage over everyone but Alby didn't seem to intimidate Newt.

“Hey, Bud, are you alright?” Newt asked, placing a gentle hand on Gally's broad shoulder. It took Gally a second or two to gain enough composure to whisper,

“Yeah.” Of course, that was a lie; none of them were fine, but Newt let it slide.

“What's your name?” the British boy inquired.

“Gally.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Gally. You're pretty strong, it looks like. Care to help move and sort these building supplies?” The offer was an olive branch, and Gally knew that he wouldn't be judged for refusing and staying here to cry some more. But the word “building” seemed to reignite a spark in him; give him a reason to get up.

“I think I'm supposed to build stuff, he mumbled, the epiphany lighting up a once-dull face with hopeful determination.

Newt looked surprised, but then grinned, declaring, “Then build, you will!” He offered a hand to Gally, who let himself be pulled to his feet. Newt looked his age—maybe younger, even—but there was a nurturing air about him that made Gally trust him enough to follow him.

Drying his tears, Gally followed Newt to the building materials, ready to jump right in.

The second time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin told him she wanted to die. Jaelin was the only female Glader, and her intended role was still unclear—at least, as far as what the Creators wanted. However, she'd adjusted well during her first year in the Glade, almost becoming “one of the boys.” She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in romance, and was badass enough to kick your ass if you tried anything funny. The first two guys were humiliated enough for all the other Gladers to get the memo—you did not mess with Jaelin.

Jaelin could see past Gally's tough exterior to the light within, even when he couldn't see it himself. She had this talent of bringing out the best in him. In everyone. He trusted her with his life. All his struggles, secrets, and slip-ups were hers to know.

He always felt extra special when she'd share something in return, but he never could've prepared himself for the way Jaelin's sunny face dropped, her body slumping against his as she mumbled, “I'm so tired of all of this. Of the monotony. The loneliness. I want to end it.”

Gally's heart immediately skipped a beat, his mind racing as he muttered, “No, no, Jaelin. No, you can't. Jaelin, please.” The teenage girl just looked up at him pleadingly, those doe eyes filled with desperation.

“Gally, you don't get it. You don't understand what it's like.”

“I know I don't, but I care too much to let you give up,” he argued, unsure of how to show her that she was needed. A blurry image of him chiseling a line through her name popped into his head, and he felt tears rush to his eyes, seemingly out of the blue. “I know it's selfish as hell, Jae, but I can't lose you,” Gally confessed. “I don't know how I'd survive without you.”

Almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around Jaelin, enveloping her in a warm, secure embrace. She didn't fight it, slowly wrapping her own arms around Gally's waist. She could feel his face pressed into her hair—which she didn't mind, seeing as her face was smushed against his chest—and from the vibrations of his sternum, Jaelin had a feeling the boy was crying. She'd never witnessed him crying before. She knew he was being exceptionally vulnerable, all in an attempt to reach her and pull her from such dark depths.

Gally knew his tears were dripping down his face and onto Jaelin's hair, and he truly hoped she didn't mind, because there was no way he was letting go. He'd hold onto Jaelin for the rest of time to keep her safe, if need be.

“Jaelin, please don't go,” he murmured, body shaking as tears poured from his eyes. “I'll do anything.” Gally felt the girl's body go completely lax as a small wet mark appeared on his shirt, right where her eyes were. She was crying, too. “Jae?” he asked, concerned.

“I'm okay,” came the soft reply, Gally becoming hyper aware of Jaelin's warm breath blowing across his chest through his thin shirt. Gally's hand automatically found her hair, running through it in soothing repetition. Of course, he'd done that before, but this was a different dynamic. A different purpose. Not playful or teasing, just “I love you and I'm here.”

“Are you?” Gally questioned. It wasn't that he didn't believe her—far from it—but he just wanted to make sure she had a good grasp on her mental state.

“Well, I'm doing better than a few minutes ago,” Jaelin clarified. Gally nodded,

“Good. Now, is it safe for me to let you go? You're going to be smart, right? You're not going to try to hurt yourself, right?”

“Right,” Jaelin agreed. “I'm going to help you finish Builders' inventory, and then eat dinner with you, and then hang out with you.” As she said this, Jaelin used her long sleeves to dry Gally's face of the remaining tears he'd shed for her, the small but kind gesture making the teenage boy's heart soar.

“That sounds like a good plan,” he chuckled, standing up and pulling Jaelin up with him.

“Where to, Captain Gally?” the girl joked. Gally laughed, accepting her offer to link arms.

“To storage!” And off the mismatched pair went.

The third time Gally cried in the Glade was when he was stung. Now, Gally wasn't stupid—he knew that as a non-Runner, he wasn't allowed to enter the Maze. And Gally, being the stickler for rules that he was, would over the rule of the Glade till his dying breath.

But, of course, everyone has a weakness. Everyone has something that would make them risk it all, just to secure some kind of finality for whatever that something is. Or in Gally's case, someone. Jaelin.

Looking back, it was clear to Gally that Jaelin was just as much of a rule-follower as he was. Jaelin would never enter the Maze when the rules clearly forbid it. She appreciated order; swore by it. No, Gally should never have thought that Jaelin might have entered the Maze. It wasn't in her nature. And he learned from this mistake; Gally did. Yes, he suffered for it dearly.

It had been a few weeks since Jaelin had opened up about being suicidal, and much to Gally's relief, she'd remained open and happy to accept help. She even told Gally herself that she was doing better, which he was glad about. And seeing Jaelin smile again? Gosh, it made Gally's days complete, filling his stony heart with meager fragments of hope. Small, but definitely there. Everything felt as it should be in Gally's book.

But then one day, Jaelin was nowhere to be found. Gally checked all their usual spots and even the obscure ones, several Gladers helping, but the girl seemed to have vanished. No one could figure out what happened. And then Gally found the note on his desk that simply read, ‘“I love you ~J.” His breath caught in his throat, mind racing to connect the dots as he came to the conclusion,

“She went into the Maze to end her life.” Alby just stared at Gally, not moving, and the boy grew impatient, grunting angrily, “Fine! I'll go after her myself!” Before anyone could stop him, Gally rushed into the Maze.

Jaelin, who'd retreated to the tallest tree in the Deadheads in an attempt to be alone, didn't become aware of what was happening until she heard the screams of a stung Glader being rushed to a Med-hut. As a Med-jack, she was supposed to be there. The girl found herself rushing there as fast as possible in order to find out who the unlucky sting victim was.

When Jaelin saw Gally thrashing against his bonds on a medical cot, her heart stopped.

Her first thought was that as a Builder, Gally never should have been in the Maze. So why the hell had he gone into the Maze?

She got her answer when the boys surrounding Gally saw her and gave varying exclamations of,

“Jaelin!”

“Where were you?”

“We've been looking for you!”

Jaelin was confused by this, questioning their concern about her whereabouts with a quick explanation as to where she was, confused and shocked when Newt cussed loudly.

“Will someone tell me what's going on and why Gally got stung?” the girl pleaded. Of course, the answer was not one she expected—or wanted—to hear.

“He was trying to find you,” Minho said flatly. “Found your note, convinced himself it was a suicide note, and ran into the Maze.” Jaelin's jaw dropped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as guilt started to toss and turn in her stomach.

“So why'd you leave a note like that if you weren't going to kill yourself?” Newt snapped. Jaelin winced, knowing this was a touchy subject for the second-in-command. “Jaelin, that's basically the exact note I left Alby, and Gally was here, then, remember?”

“It was a love confession!” Jaelin spat out, embarrassed to admit to it, given the circumstances, especially. “I didn't think of the similarities to Newt's note, so I'm sorry about that, but honestly, it was just a love confession. If he'd flipped it over, he would've seen that it said, ‘If you feel the same, meet me at the tallest tree in the Deadheads.’”

“So you aren't going to commit suicide?” Alby clarified.

“No!” Jaelin exclaimed, walking over to Gally's side sorrowfully. “It's not even an option. I stick with you guys.”

A look of relief passed over the faces of all the boys in the room, despite the circumstances. Jaelin ignored this, too guilty to think of anyone but Gally.

He'd stopped thrashing, instead trapped in his own head, trying to separate nightmares from memories, which is difficult when most of your memories are as horrific as nightmares. Jaelin was able to loosely clap his right hand in both of hers, his hands significantly larger than hers.

“No!” Startled, Jaelin looked down at the boy, who was still trapped in his mind, obviously recalling something awful, because he was whimpering and murmuring phrases like “It hurts” and “Please stop.” Jaelin felt her heart fracture slightly, once again overwhelmed by the thought that this was her fault. It was only made worse when the tears started leaking from Gally's eyes and rolling down his face, sobs becoming more pronounced. The words he'd been muttering became unintelligible, drowned out by his cries.

There he was, Jaelin's strong rock, crying in the middle of the Med-hut.

The girl felt her own eyes start to water at the pained noises coming from Gally's mouth, unable to imagine how much physical and mental pain he was in. Gally's eyes flew open, blue orbs finding her chestnut brown ones, before he screamed,

“Stop! Make it stop!” When he broke down into sobs again, it became clear that he'd been reliving a memory verbally, Jaelin still unable to do anything more than hold his hand and whisper reassuring comforts, placing a cool compress on his forehead to combat his raging fever.

Jaelin used a rag to gently wash Gally's face, removing the tear stains on his cheeks. His tan skin was flushed pink from fever, face breaking out in severe patches of acne from the stress of the Changing. She did her best to treat that, too, even going so far as to wash his hair after his second day, the fever causing extra sweat to find a home in his sandy colored hair. She found herself struggling to leave his side, growing heavy with guilt whenever she tried. So she just stayed by his side, holding his hand, for five days.

“Jae?” came a raspy cough on the afternoon of the fifth day. The girl immediately woke up from where she'd dozed off in the chair next to Gally's bedside.

“Gal? You're back?” she asked, excited but tentative.

“Yeah,” he answered, “I think it's over.” Jaelin let out a sigh of relief, only hesitating for a second before leaping onto cot with Gally to give him the biggest hug she could.

It was Newt, however, not Jaelin, who explained the note and everything that had happened, Jaelin unable to find it within herself to explain again.

When Newt told Gally the vital piece of information he'd missed—Jaelin’s note was a love confession—the boy gasped, a dopey smile landing on his face as he muttered,

“Can you get Jaelin for me?” From the look on his face, Newt assumed the boy returned Jaelin's feelings, but this was confirmed without a doubt when Jaelin walked to Gally's bedside, unable to make eye contact out of nervousness, and Gally whispered, “Jae, look at me.” The girl obeyed, warm brown eyes meeting Gally's deep blue ones. Before Jaelin could say a word, Gally reached up and cupped her face in his hands before guiding her lips to his in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

It was a ‘finally’ kiss, symbolizing two kids finding love against all odds in a place resembling utter hell. And so when Jaelin pulled back for air, a surprised look still frozen on her face, Gally confessed,

“I've had the biggest crush on you for fucking ever.” Newt clucked his tongue, leading Gally to revise his statement. “Sorry, I've had the biggest crush on you for shucking ever.”

Jaelin's face broke into a wide, ecstatic smile. “Really?”

“Yes, Jae, for real,” Gally chuckled.

This was all it took for Jaelin to full-on leap into Gally's arms, the medical cot shifting in protest at the sudden addition of weight. The two teenagers didn't seem to notice or care, too set on colliding with the other's lips again to worry about something so trivial as the integrity of the cot. Jaelin's lips, chapped from nervous biting and dehydration, found Gally's, which were surprisingly soft, mouths brushing in romantic, teasing kisses before she pressed her lips firmly to his, unable to resist the promise of making out with her long time crush.

A low whistle caused Gally and Jaelin to pull apart for a second, observing Minho's triumphant stance in the doorway as he crowed, “Knew it!” Rolling their eyes, the two lovesick Gladers went back to exchanging kisses, all tears from days prior forgotten.

The fourth and final time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin died. More specifically, when Jaelin went crazy and then stabbed herself to death.

Everyone swore they didn't see it coming—didn't expect the self destructive desires in her head to win—but every single one of them was lying. They'd all seen Jaelin start to spiral. But none of them had known how to help her and so, like the cowards they were, they left the girl to sink or swim.Gally hated every single one of them now, himself included.

Jaelin's role as a Med-jack meant that she didn't have one continuous work day, like with the other jobs. Rather, once she finished her daily tasks, she was free until someone called for a Med-jack. She spent lots of time with Gally while he built, and otherwise hung out in the Deadheads to journal. This solitude was good for her—but it ended up being her downfall.

She spent too much time alone with her thoughts, and it made her go insane.

Gally had been working on a building project when it all happened, Jaelin's screams in the middle of the Glade drawing everyone's attention. Gally immediately hurried down the ladder, dropped his tools, and sprinted towards Jaelin, who was holding a knife up to ward off Newt and Alby's attempts to talk her down.

“Jaelin, put the knife down and we can talk about this,” Newt reasoned, Gally falling into place beside the Second-in-Command.

Jaelin's eyes flickered to Gally's for half a second before she turned back to Newt and spat, “No, I won't. I hate it here.” Gally winced as Alby interjected,

“Why do you hate it here?” Jaelin scoffed.

“Why don't I hate it here? I'm stuck in a Glade, surrounded by a Maze filled with monsters, with only guys as company, harboring that knowledge that if at any point you all turned on me together, I'd be powerless to stop it.” Jaelin's chest heaved with emotion as the knife she held in front of her shook.

“We won't turn on you,” Gally insisted firmly, but Jaelin's eyes just flashed,

“Until you do. Until you're all so desperate that you gang up on me and grab me and rape me until I bleed out and die.”

Alby's jaw dropped, Newt shuddered, and Gally's eyes started to water.

“What?” Jaelin screeched. “It'll happen and you know it!” Gally took a step forward, hands outstretched as if to seem unthreatening, but Jaelin screamed again, so he backed away.

“Have you been stung, Jaelin?” Alby asked bluntly, earning a dry chuckle from the girl.

“No, Alby. I'm very much in my right mind at the present. I'm a Realist. I'm thinking realistically.”

Gally shook his head, unable to keep quiet now. “No, Jae! This isn't realistic. And you can't do this. I love you too much, remember?” He got choked up as the first tear slid down his cheek. “I can't survive without you.”

Jaelin's eyes grew cold, “Then die, too.” The girl stabbed the knife into her stomach.

“No!” Gally screamed, floodgates bursting open as Jaelin let a pained yell, yanking the knife out of her body before stabbing again, this time a little further up. “Stop!” Gally begged the girl, who let out some kind of agonized shriek-cackle, her face a confusing mix of defeat and triumph.

As if she was winning and losing at the same time.

She'd stabbed herself at least five times now, blood gushing from seemingly small cuts. Jeff and Clint had rushed over quickly, but she was crazed enough that no one could get close enough to subdue her. Gally tried, but got pulled back by Frypan and Winston right before Jae's knife would have slashed his carotid artery. The blood was coming too fast, anyway. She'd already lost too much.

The girl's grip went slack, the knife sliding out of it in time to hit the ground with her body. She immediately went still, sprawled across the ground, Jeff and Clint hurrying to try and save her, but it was too late. It was only a few minutes later when they got up solemnly, Jeff whispering, “I'm sorry.” Clint practically collapsed into his arms, both boys starting to sob as the death of their fellow Med-jack became real.

Gally stood staring at Jaelin's body numbly for a few moments before trudging over to her still form. He cradled it in his arms so gently that it surprised some of the other Gladers, but he didn't care. All he knew was that the love of his life had just died. Had wanted to die. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before tilting his head up to the sky and, without warning, letting out a long, loud, anguished bellow.

“Fuck you!” he screamed at the Creators of such a hellhole; such a nightmare. No one had the strength to chastise him for cussing, not even Newt. Then he broke down in pained, heartbroken sobs again, the ache in his chest akin to a thousand splinters driving their way into every vital organ.

Without Jae, part of him—a large part of him—wanted to die, too. And that part grew and grew, slowly taking over until it was almost the only thing left. It ate away at this once untouchable boy, stripping him of his defenses and hope.

The next time he cried, he was barely even Gally anymore; just WCKD's puppet with Gally's face. He had lost the ability to fight their sick programming, and now, it had taken over. No, Gally wasn't truly living that last time he cried.

Without Jaelin, Gally would never truly live again. After all, when you give someone your heart, you place your life in their hands. And so when Jaelin died, Gally did, too.

Two rivers, running dry.

the end

#gally tmr #gally one shot #the maze runner #tmr fanfic #tmr one shot #gally angst #gally x oc #gally x original character #angst with a sad ending #fanfiction #tmr angst #i write depressing stories #oc goes insane and i love it #will poulter #jasmin savoy brown #the scorch trials #the death cure #movie alby is superior #literally so sad

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mlmxreader · 1 month

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Always At Your Back | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Alfie Solomons (enby, gn, or male reader)

“We lost an officer and three men, two nights ago. They were shot to bits patching up wire. We dragged two of them back here.” (feel free to make it as angsty as you'd like) ❞

: ̗̀➛ War takes a toll on everyone, and at every time, too.

: ̗̀➛ graphic depictions of war, graphic depictions of injury, graphic depictions of death & disease, swearing, smoking, shellshock

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

It seemed as if it would rain forever; harsh, heavy droplets pounding the mud and mixing with the blood as the waters in the trenches rose.

Through soggy and broken boots, the water seeped in and caused such awful blisters and infections that some men had to have their feet amputated; many of them happened in the trenches, unable to take them away to medical hospitals thanks to the constant bombardment of shells.

The ground seemed to open up a little more every day; massive craters of cavernous volume created the bulk of the sores, and their slick sides made it impossible to crawl out again.

Those who fell became food for the rats. Eaten alive over two or three days.

You could still hear their screaming, staining the air so thickly that you could not claw your way through it at all.

Every time something dropped and clattered, you would run and hide in the Captain's quarters, sheltering under the desk and screaming at the top of your lungs that everybody had to get down - they were bombing again.

Whenever a man fell from exhaustion or from tripping over, you would immediately assume that he was dead, and try to move him aside as quickly as possible.

You could never go home, and you knew that. Not after seeing once green and vibrant fields become grey and ash covered deserts. Not after seeing the bits of blood and brain mixing with the gooey clay and mud.

Not after watching as men tried frantically to stuff their own insides back into themselves until they crashed and fell, swallowed by the cavernous craters.

The only redeemable thing about it was Captain Solomons. He was a few years older than you, but you had known one another for as long as you could remember; Alfie was all you had left, now.

Your Captain, your good and honourable captain. He was all you had in the world, and nothing more; no family, all your friends were in pieces scattered across No Man's Land... the only thing you had left was Alfie. But even now, you couldn't say where he was.

It was about a week ago when he and some others had gone on their last raid, and you had not seen or heard from them since; one of the snipers in your trench, a Piankashaw man who everybody called Albie, offered to go out and to search for the party - but you could only say no.

It was far too dangerous; snipers moved like ghosts, hidden and concealed amongst the fire and the smoke and the toxic gas. Shock troops stuck at midnight, and were only spurred on when they knew that your lot was scared.

You wanted to break down and cry, to sob and shake and wail until no sounds came from your mouth; cowering in the Captain's quarters beneath the table as you covered your face with your hands.

It was all too much, and when you felt the ground break and quake, you knew that more lives had been lost and there was nothing you could do.

You stayed like that, rocking back and forth and loudly screaming and praying until you felt pressure around your wrists, and suddenly you were looking at your Captain with blurry eyes.

"It's alright," Alfie barked out, on his knees and shuffling to get closer to you, cupping your face in his hands as he grumbled. "I'm here now, you're alright, Sergeant."

You clung onto him by instinct, screaming out everything that had happened through thick and dense sobs; your head was pounding, throat raw and thick, mucus dribbling down from your nose and leaking past your chin.

Alfie didn't mind at all, pulling out a dirty handkerchief and wiping your face clean. It smeared mud and blood all over your skin, but at least you weren't covered in mucus anymore. He even dared to smile as he leaned forward, gently kissing the top of your nose.

"You're alive, man. That's better than what most can fuckin' say."

You just stared blankly at him, eyes wide and tears slowly dribbling out. "You're alive..."

"Just about," Alfie told you gently. “We lost an officer and three men, two nights ago. They were shot to bits patching up wire. We dragged two of them back here... fuckin' bastards hardly let us get further than the rotten ladder... but I'm back, I'm here with you, promise. Ain't fuckin' goin' nowhere."

You could only nod slowly, still clinging onto him so tightly that you felt your knuckles pop and crack; you were sure that it would have been audible in any other... anywhere else.

You swallowed thickly, clenching your jaw. Your eyes didn't move from him at all.

Alfie didn't dare to move, keeping his gaze fixated on you as he wiped your face with the handkerchief again, frowning. He kept telling those fucking idiots at high command to call you off, to send you back home. You weren't fit for the front and you needed to be fucking safe.

But they didn't listen.

More meat for the war machine.

That's all anybody was, now.

"Here," he sighed, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one up. He handed it to you, and tried not to wince at the blatant shake of your hand. "Get that down you. You'll feel much fuckin' better after that."

You nodded again. "I want to die."

He fell silent for a moment, and at the dull and muffled sound of a plane flying overhead, he scoffed. "You might just get your wish... but if you're dyin', I'm dyin' with you. That's what I told you in Camden when we enlisted, and it's what I said to you the day I said I was yours. If you die, I die with you."

You said nothing.

"I'm with you," Alfie whispered, letting his hand grasp the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "I'm always at your back."

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dreaminginpastels · 2 years

Note

Ok so I was looking for one line prompts for a possible Newt (maze runner) x reader and found this one: “you make my life so bright, you know? I always look forward to seeing you and I don't really know what to do when you’re not here.” and then thought maybe mutual pining where a misunderstanding (reader walks into the maze to pick up something Minho dropped but all newt saw was them walking in) leads to maybe confessing? Idk sorry if it's too specific but if any of this works as a prompt then I'll be happy lol

a light in the dark

pairing: newt (maze runner) x gn!reader

summary: when newt sees you enter the maze, it gives him the courage he needs to finally tell you how he feels

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, the briefest hint of panic and distress from our darling boy

reader pronouns: they/them

word count: 1.6k

*✧ maze runner masterlist | main masterlist | ask | taglist ✧*

It was another day in the Maze. While you were thankful for the community that you had so seamlessly become a part of, it was also another day of trying desperately to decode Newt’s feelings towards you. You were the closest of friends, he constantly looked out for you and was there in an instant if something was even vaguely wrong. In fact, you were convinced he had some kind of overly-developed danger radar, but it only worked when it came to you. Still, that wasn’t enough to determine whether he was in love with you the way that you were with him.

Ever dutiful, he tried to keep personal things aside, making sure that his responsibilities as Second-In-Command always came first, which meant that any time he had even the tiniest opportunity to show you whether he felt the same, he quickly moved off to complete another job. It was one of the most endearingly frustrating things about him.

You’d had a breakthrough last week, sitting by the bonfire the night the newest Greenie had come up in the box. Sitting against a log, he’d come over and sat next to you, brown eyes twinkling with intoxication and mischief.

“So,” he’d begun, leaning close enough to you that you felt his warm breath on your cheek, “You happen to be my favourite Glader.”

You’d laughed, shocked at his forwardness, “Is that so?”

He’d nodded enthusiastically, eliciting fond chuckles from you. “Absolutely. You’re so smart, and you have such a big heart - you’re always going out of your way to help everyone, and you’re so nice! When I’m having bad days, you come over and smile and then I feel better and wow you’re just-”

You were leaning forward, holding onto every word, so desperately excited that he was finally opening up. Well, until Minho came over and ruined absolutely everything.

Leaning over the log the two of you were laying against, he chuckled amusedly. “Aww, is Newtie finally telling y/n how he feels?”

At this, Newt shot upright, eyes widening as he sobered up instantly. He regarded you, mortification etched across his face. “Uhh…y/n, I- I have to go.”

You smiled to yourself sadly, wishing that looks could kill as you remembered the death glare that you’d given Minho after Newt sped off.

Still now, you weren’t over it. Newt had spent approximately 2 minutes talking to you per day in the week that had passed since that night. It was like every time he looked at you, he remembered that feeling of mortification and couldn’t bring himself to even ask how you were. He gave short responses to your questions, and seemed to always have a new job to do, or a new task from Alby to follow up.

You had hated every second of this week, and woke up determined to fix things, only to be rejected by Newt once again.

“Newt, we need to talk.”

He’d turned to you then, sighing. “y/n, we have an important gathering tonight and I really need to focus.”

“Right, of course,” You’d begun, scorn lacing your usually gentle voice. “I forgot you don’t have any time for me anymore. Guess I’ll see you when I see you, shank.”

“y/n-” He’d taken a deep breath, indecision evident in his expression before he looked up at you, resigned. “-Good that.”

You’d scoffed and marched out of the Homestead. Keeping your furious pace until you found a log near the Map Room, letting soft, frustrated tears fall.

“Hey, hey, y/n, what’s wrong?”

You looked up, a dry laugh escaping your lips as the very person you wanted to avoid looking down at you. Minho’s face was laced with genuine concern, all teasing aside as he worried about his friend. “Of course it’s you. Look, would you just leave me alone? You’ve done enough damage.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Sorry, what damage?”

You rolled your eyes. “Last week? At the bonfire? You made fun of Newt and he’s been ignoring me ever since. Real nice work on that one by the way. Maybe they should create a new job, hmm? Breakers - it’s probably real important to ruin friendships, not like we desperately need some joy in this shucking place.”

He groaned in realisation and crouched next to you, hand resting on your hunched-over shoulder as he watched you wipe fresh, frustrated tears from your eyes. “y/n, I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I’ve been trying to get that slinthead to talk to you about, uh, stuff, for ages, and I really did just think he’d finally worked up the courage to do it. I genuinely wasn’t making fun of him, I was proud of him.”

As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard the other Runners calling out to Minho. “Well, whatever your intentions were, he’s ignoring me, and at this rate, I’m pretty sure it’s going to just keep on happening. So it is what it is, I guess. Happy running.”

His hand still on your shoulder, he pulled you into a side hug, before whispering, “He won’t let it go on forever, I promise. I know him well enough to know that he can’t live without you. He’ll come around, and I bet it’ll be sooner than you think.”

You sighed, looking up at him as he pulled away and moved to join the other Runners. “Thanks, Min.”

He smiled and saluted you before running off. However, just as he entered the Maze, you noticed a piece of paper fall out of his pocket.

You jogged over as the last of the Runners disappeared into the Maze, looking in cautiously before deciding that, logically, if they’d just run out of the Map Room, whatever had fallen was probably critically important to you all finally getting out of the shucking Maze once and for all.

You took a deep inhale before stepping in, and moving towards the discarded paper. Just as you leaned back up, paper secured in your hands, you felt a warm hand on your arm yanking you firmly back into the Glade.

Within a second, Newt’s face, which you had missed so desperately, was glaring at you: fury in his eyes, jaw tightened in concern. “What in the bloody hell did you think you were doing, y/n? What the shuck were you thinking? You could’ve been hurt!”

“Woah, slim it, Newt-” You started, as he started pulling you back towards the Homestead. “How did you even get here this quick?”

“I can’t believe that you would do something so shucking stupid! You! Of all shanks!”

“Well if you would let me explain-”

He stopped in his tracks, and turned to you. “What possible explanation could you have other than wanting to get yourself killed? I would shucking know all about that, y/n, but you could’ve talked to me about it-”

“Maybe I would have if you’d given me more than 5 seconds of your time!”

He softened at that, but not fully. “Look, y/n, if this is about this morning-”

You were about to unleash another retort before Alby interrupted the two of you. “Gathering. Now.”

…

And that was how you’d ended up in the Slammer. For three nights. For breaking “the first and most important of our Glade rules”. Or at least that was how Gally had described it.

You sat, mumbling to yourself in a frustrated huff until you heard a soft, familiar voice above you.

“If it helps, I voted against you being locked up in here.”

You sighed, but smiled up at Newt. “It doesn’t, but I appreciate it.”

Silence, not uncomfortable, filled the space between you until it felt almost deafening. You were about to break it for your own peace of mind before you heard Newt’s mellifluous British tones reach down towards you, as tender as if he were wrapping you in a hug. Oh how you missed those warm arms.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry about earlier today, I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. Not at you. Not ever.”

You sighed, again. Heavy with unspoken words. “It’s not just today, though. You’ve been so distant this last week, and I-I’ve just been wracking my brain trying to work out if I did something, or if maybe I misjudged our friendship.”

At your words, Newt’s face softened into a heartbreaking expression of pain. “Oh, love, I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I can assure you it’s the complete opposite, just you being your wonderful self made it hard for me to be around you without-”

You raised an eyebrow when he didn’t continue. “Without-?”

He sighed, turning so he could look directly into your eyes, pupils dilating in the low light of the night. “It’s just- you make my life so bright, you know? I always look forward to seeing you and I don’t really know what to do when you’re not here. I guess I just…I just figured maybe if I wasn’t around you as much I wouldn’t spend so much time breaking my own heart thinking you didn’t feel the same.”

You looked up at him, doe eyes meeting his timid irises, “A-and how do feel, e-exactly?”

He smirked gently down at you, taking in the sight of you looking up at him so tenderly through the barred roof of the Slammer. “I love you, shank. Now are you going to tell me you feel the same or am I going to go run into the maze as a sign of solidarity and embarrassment?”

You chuckled, “Of course I love you. I’ve loved you ever since you first pulled rank to give me the tour instead of Minho.”

He smirked, but raised a nervous hand to rub the back of his neck. If it was lighter, you’d swear he reddened at your words. “How about, uh, when you get out of this shucking place, we chat to Frypan about having a special dinner in the treehouse, just us?”

You smiled, reaching up to hold his hand through the barrs above you, melting at the way he tenderly caressed the back of your hand while staring deep into your eyes.

“Good that.”

a/n: ✨SURPRISE BIRTHDAY FIC HAS ARRIVED✨

hello lovely, and happy birthday!!! 💚

I hope that this surprise birthday fic is everything that you wanted to be, and I hope that it makes your birthday that much brighter ☺️

I absolutely LOVED writing this request for you, and I love that your request is my first newt story on here (fitting as he is the fictional sweetheart that brought us together) 🍃

also apologies for my very rusty glader slang and for no thomas (in my head this is set before he gets to the glade)

I hope that you have a beautiful day!

#newt maze runner x reader #newt maze runner x gn!reader #newt maze runner x gender neutral!reader #newt maze runner #newt x reader #newt x gn!reader #newt x gender neutral!reader #maze runner x reader #requests open #lovely mutuals 🥰#surprise birthday fic that I nearly ruined the surprise of multiple times #daniella writes 💫#⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ rook ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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yxstxrdrxxm · 2 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: One shot should be enough. That's all there is to it, right?

TW/s: Yandere behavior, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, lowkey these two are terrifying to deal with, kazuha has no remorse in some of these, vaguely terrifying heizou, nsfw warnings also include drugging, blackmail, and arson.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy Valentine’s Day, 🩸 anon. It seems your boyfriends decided to do something very special for you. After all, they liked you, didn’t they? I hope you like sweets, because I know they prepared something special for you. Just… Try not to look into what they made too much.

Dealing with Kazuha and Heizou isn't all that bad. For you, the two of them had been nothing but kind and welcoming, although the first time you have decided to rent them in the app, the greeting was more or less a surprise.

You remembered what Heizou told you, since he would remind you so often. You were, in his words, 'a golden retriever'. Why did he call you that? You were answered with that you just looked like it, without any sort of explanation.

For Kazuha, though, he called you his 'maple'. An endearing nickname, considering you red through his profile that he was a poet and isn't fan of being too mean to whoever rents him.

The one thing that you knew from their terms was to not ask either of them about Wanderer or Kamisato Ayato and his clan. For Heizou, it's because he worked for the bigwig himself and didn't want word to spread about his comments, and for Kazuha, he had... 'History', as he puts it.

Going past the sudden surprise and the slight confusion between you and the two men, the three of you discussed some ground rules on what they should expect from you and vice versa.

For Kazuha, he wanted more than to treat you like a proper boyfriend, and he didn't have as much limitations other than prying into his past unless stated otherwise.

As for Heizou, he wanted to keep things light and casual, but he also wouldn't like it if you try to get into his connections with the higher up he's working for and for his job.

In your case, you knew it was to be expected. The rules clearly stated that renting a boyfriend in MixMatch is fair game for the boyfriend and the client, and the boyfriend can decide what rule the other party must follow.

It also works as a sort of 'out', just in case they felt as though they wouldn't be able to get along with the boyfriend they rented with a full refund.

With this in mind, you told the two that the same was to be expected: you don't want either of them to dig into your past, and you don't want them to force you to things you hate. After all, you had to scrounge up enough money to afford them as their prices are on the lower side than other guys.

And... Well, that's where you three are at right now. Granted, Kazuha enjoys going out, but he seems to adapt quite easily to your tastes. Heizou, though, enjoyed bantering with someone who can tolerate his little antics like the white haired musician.

Sometimes, you two would end up having a bit of friendly banter on who sucks at a specific game, while Kazuha will play as a 'referee' for the two of you.

One of those moments was now.

"Pfft, you suck at being a hunter, 'zou," you said, your fingers moving to have your little bony knight combat with Hornet. "I'm going to finish Greenpath if you don't come in here soon!"

"Oh, really?" you heard Heizou answer, laughing as he manages to join in the frey. "Well, you clearly aren't doing so good against miss Hornet, Finn."

You flinched as he began to attack you when Hornet wasn't nearby, making you slip and get hurt by the warrior as a result.

"Hey!"

Parrying both attacks, you hear Kazuha enter, the scent of coffee wafting in the air as he placed the mug beside Heizou. At your peripheral vision, he walked off from Heizou's side and went to your right, placing down a drink.

Ah, the scent of strawberry milkshake... You swore this man knows you like it extra sweet.

"It seems you two are at it again," said Kazuha, the albino watching as the two gamers clashed swords, dodging Hornet's attack when she got too close to hurting either of them.

"It's fun, Kazuha! Say, why don't you come in and join me and Finn?"

Kazuha laughed as you hear the cushions move before he sat down.

"No need. I'm more content in watching you two compete over who can beat the game than anything else."

"Aw, boo! You'll enjoy it, Kaz!"

It was you who protested this time, which made the latter hum. Although, you couldn't really look at him as you were busy trying to get Heizou down to his knees (metaphorically, of course).

"Seeing you two bond and play games is enough for me, maple."

... There it is again. The nickname he gives you is enough to make you sputter.

"I-- hmph, you're missing out," you grumbled, but the tone was playful. It was enough to have Heizou chuckle and land a particular hit when you were distracted.

"Whoops~ seems like you aren't looking, retriever," he quips, causing you to huff.

"Oh, shut up!"

For the three of you, the idea of renting a boyfriend to be able to do these things never crossed your minds. To those who are looking in, it just seem more like three friends, hanging out on a special day.

Three friends hanging out in one person's home on Valentine's, sharing laughs and banters as they played games.

Yes. That's how it should be.

After all, you wouldn't want to know what goes underneath that sense of naive fun, would you?

After having beaten Heizou through a 5 round lose streak (seriously, you sometimes wonder if the detective has a damn tracker on you), the three of you realized that you don't have food for the next few days.

In your case, well... You are the definition of a broke college student. Buying groceries outside is almost like some form of scam, considering the inflation on certain goods. But with the two of your boyfriends, budgeting was not an issue.

What was an issue, however, was what was essential to buy and what isn't.

"We may be able to live off with these for a while," you told the two men, your brows furrowed in thought at the list. "Still, I'm not sure if there's anything else we're missing. I don't even know if it adds to the additional fees aside from renting you guys..."

Kazuha shook his head, his hand moving to place it on your shoulder. A comforting gesture, considering you enjoyed touch and craved it from the two of them.

"We talked about this, ダーリン. We made sure that whatever expenses we spent on you wouldn't count to the cost you paid for us beforehand, remember?"

Your frown was still present. It was clear that you were struggling to remember, and it caused Heizou to pat your head with a chuckle.

"Look, if you're so worried that it could, why don't you see it as us treating you? It is Valentine's Day, so it'd be nice if you don't have to remind the two of us and your little head that we cost more than a month's rent."

Ah. Right.

"... Fine," you answered, sighing. "I guess I forgot that you two aren't actually my boyfriends. That, and spending for you two costs an arm, and I'd rather not pay for any additional expenses if I want to live for a year."

This caused them to chuckle.

"Oh, you don't have to."

After all, they have plans they want to spend with on Valentine's Day. Some that you weren't even aware of are already in motion.

Spending time with Heizou was easy, since Kazuha has a full day ahead to make this the most special for the three of you. After all, they've been deciding on how to spend it with the one they love most.

Now, sure, both have their... Differences, but the two loved Finn. To them, they were the best they've met so far, and the chemistry was already there. What more could either of them ask for?

Well, there was one thing they both wanted.

While the two are out buying groceries, Kazuha gets a phone call. Checking his phone, his eyes narrowed to see who was contacting him. Accepting it, he placed it on his shoulder as he got to work on setting up the house.

"Hello, █████."

"Hello, Kazuha," a familiar voice answers.

"I wasn't expecting for you to contact me so soon," the albino stated, but the warmth in his voice was gone. It was the same thing that the latter could hear as he began to prepare for their final 'surprise'. "Is there another one you're letting us check to see if they pass?"

"... No, it's not that. I'm actually contacting you to inform you of what the Boss wants."

Kazuha stops for a moment, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

He never liked their boss. No one does.

After all, that boss had ties to the underworld and what goes on. It's why they were able to host 'MixMatch', a dating app. Although, if you asked him, he didn't trust that it was a simple 'dating app'.

What dating app would have it's ties to trafficking, anyway?

"... What did he say?"

"He wants the clients that failed to get any matches gone."

...

The glass cup he was holding shatters from his grip.

He needs to clean it up. He does. But that information gave him chills.

"... Is that it?"

"Yes. I'm not sure who would get the short end of the stick, but he's planning on getting our clients involved on that. It's... Terrifying to think about."

Of course it would, he thinks. No one would be sane enough to propose THAT idea, right?

"I see. It... Truly is."

...

"You don't... Plan on hurting them, do you, Kazuha?"

"Why would I?"

He grabbed a broom, watching as he saw the clock move it's hands to strike 4.

"Like I'll let him touch what's ours to begin with."

"We're home! God, going out is such a headache..."

What greeted Finn was a curious sight.

"Welcome home, darling," Kazuha said, placing down the last plate of food he made. "Heizou didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

"Me? Giving our darling Finn a hard time? You wound me, Kazuha!" Heizou stated, placing a hand on his forehead almost dramatically. "It's almost like you forgot that I wouldn't have done anything to them."

"Well, you almost got away with buying more rope when Kazuha said we're on a tight budget—"

"Hey, hey, hey!" He shushed them, seeing Kazuha squint his eyes at the detective. "It's not like I'll spend it outside of our budget! Well... If it's not that expensive."

Finn and Kazuha sighed.

"Please tell me it's for the Crux, Heizou," the musician grumbled, giving him a glare. "For if it's anything else past that, I'll kick your shins in."

Scared of the outcome, Heizou yelped.

"It's for the Crux! Man alive, Kazuha, are you really about to do that just because I want to help miss Beidou?"

“Yes.”

“How terrifying! … And bold.”

Taking a seat, Finn watched the two men bicker lightly as they retrieved their food. They knew that it was Valentine’s, so it was quite pleasant to have a celebration with the people they cared for— rented or not.

Thus, that evening was spent with the trio speaking amongst themselves. Future plans, outings, and even some small in-betweens. Although, Finn didn’t recall when they had lost track of time… Or when they had simply nodded off.

All they knew was that day… It was one of the best celebrations they had.

…

When the two knew they were asleep, Kazuha grabbed his phone, his warm eyes gone cold.

It was time that they faced the truth of their side job: the one thing they needed to do, as much as they hated it. Even if it's only to ‘play’ the part, they’re both used to having their true intentions shielded for their own benefit.

“You know what to do,” he told Heizou, watching him sigh and prepare himself.

“Of course… It’s for our lives, after all.”

The two spared a glance at the slumbering client they had, feeling a sense of pity. They hated hurting these people, but that’s what the boss wanted. Their old one would have objected, but those who worked in Celestia Inc. are aware of the consequences should they be stopped.

And now, they had to swallow the bitter pill that was murder. Such a shame; Heizou was starting to like them, and so was Kazuha.

Raising the gun, he placed the barrel and put his finger on the tri—

Ring, ring.

…

Heizou stopped for a moment and grabbed the phone, answering it with his left hand.

“Hello? Who is this?”

…

“Hello, Shikanoin Heizou. Mind if you drop that gun you’re holding and speak to me outside?”

Kazuha scrutinized the look of apprehension as Heizou paused, turning his head to the gun. It was already aimed at their ex-client, but he knew that voice demanded business. Afterwards, he huffed and pulled it away, noticing the albino’s brows furrow.

He was confused, but that’s okay. It was normal to be confused in a situation such as this.

“Hide them somewhere safe,” he mouthed to Kazuha. “I’ll deal with this.”

Watching the musician carry Finn in his arms and leave, he sighed and adjusted the phone on his hands, his eyes remaining sharp as ever. “Alright,” he answered, turning his heel to leave the house. “Would you mind answering as to who I’m speaking to?”

“Oh, you should recognize who I am,” said the caller. “Look up.”

Reaching the porch, he turned his head up, noticing the familiar monochrome and red clashing and mixing into a unified sense of color. And for a mere moment, the ‘detective’ that people loved felt the dread that his past ‘clients’ had, should they be cleaned up with.

“Greetings, Shikanoin Heizou,” the caller greeted, their smile twisting itself when they saw the stiffness from him. “No need to panic. I wouldn’t dare hurt what’s tied to a shady business unless stated otherwise. Now, what brings you here?”

“... I’m here for my client with Kazuha,” answered Heizou, but he sounded curt. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Is it now? And how about those… ‘sweets’ you have? Is there anything in it?”

“Nothing of the sort, miss officer,” he retorted with a shrug, but he stopped moving when he felt the barrel of the gun on his head.

Loaded. Of course.

“I’ll ask again. Is there anything in those ‘sweets’?”

…

One shot and I’d drop dead. Not a good predicament.

“... Yes. Sleeping drugs.”

“I see.”

The barrel didn’t move. It left him even more apprehensive of the outcome. After all, it was clear that whoever they are, they excel a lot more in using guns, and they also have the upper hand against him.

Such a bother.

“One last question: do you mind if you do this favor for me?”

He could feel something cold. Metallic… And clearly not used. There’s a latch on the front, and a sticker that was ripped on its back. He didn’t know what it was, but he could smell the scent of charcoal on it— it was strong enough for him to have a whiff.

“Would you mind burning that house behind you? I’m aware you two have made up your mind that you’d get rid of Finn, but it seems you two got cold feet.”

Heizou seems to have felt his heart stop beating.

How did they know?

“Such a shame. I believe the boss knew you two would be excellent ‘boyfriends’, so to speak,” he heard them continue, sighing. “And here you are, hesitating to murder yet another lovesick ‘client’ who’s grown fond of you two. I’m quite surprised you haven’t seen how twisted this is.”

The barrel digs in deeper to his head.

“Then again, we are all sick in the head, aren’t we?”

…

Heizou had no rebuttal. After all, they all came with ulterior motives.

“Well, Heizou? Will you do the honors?”

“... Fine,” he answered. A bit too late, one may add, but he knew that he was not in a good position. He was being forced, and behind those words, the obvious and looming threat was present.

If you don’t, I’ll inform your boss that you failed the job.

“I’ll burn the place. Kazuha is responsible for taking care of anything else, should there be any more requirements we have to follow after getting rid of the ‘evidence’ here.”

“Splendid. I was wondering if you were truly having cold feet. As expected from a detective such as yourself.”

Satisfied with the response, the caller lowered the gun they had and tucked it away. With a satisfied hum, they turned their heels and walked down the steps, going to the entrance and to their motorcycle parked on the side of the fence.

“Be sure to do the job. You know what happens if you don’t..”

Heizou couldn’t help but stand as he watched them ride on top of a motorcycle and drive off in the night, the feeling of the lighter resting in his hands. He felt that weight grew heavier, knowing fully well that he was forced to do such a crime. His hands were already stained in red, but he felt pity. He didn’t want to kill Finn, and even Kazuha can tell.

He can even see that the once quick detective stopped when the topic of arson came up for his beloved ‘client’.

Alas…

… The die was cast, and the cast must die.

Raising his phone, he contacted Kazuha, texting that he will set the house ablaze— and that he needed Kazuha to take Finn back to their home. Kazuha sent him a text to inform him that he took everything that Finn valued when they were gone, so he should be fine burning it all down.

It was only when he finished texting did he look at the house, lamenting that he felt so… Attached to it, like it was his second home.

Heizou hated that part of himself. That part that wanted to keep things as is, just like the good days.

Those days where Kazuha and the others weren’t as twisted. Those who didn’t have to stain their hands for bloody cash. Those who didn’t want to be reminded of what goes down below. And yet, here he was… Standing over the house like it was him denying the call of adventure.

With one deep breath, he turned the lighter on and tossed it inside. Heizou watched as the flame traveled around the flooring and through the walls, going to various rooms and setting things ablaze quicker than he could catch. It wasn’t long until the house was engulfed in the fire he willingly made, those pops and sizzles haunting his memory.

It was done, he thought.

And yet his chest still felt as heavy as he remembered ever since he ‘got in’.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

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