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bri-the-fando-meister · 2 years ago

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A Long Time Coming

Gally X Original character female (OC IS THE POV)

TW: Assault, fight, yelling, first-time sex

Shit, I'm doing smut. Hate me later, read it now

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The backstory:

You and Gally had a relationship that many would call, a love hate relationship. You could barely say you were friends, you had a tolerance for each other, yeah, that's what it was, a tolerance.

Now being the only girl in the glade however, it kind of made you like the fact that Gally wasn't begging for you to do him, it was actually somewhat nice, having someone that hated you.

You, Paisley the rebellious Paisley hated? Never. The fact that the boys were head over heels for you was, definitely something.

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"Hey Paisley, are you actually going to build or what?"

"Oh darling, go buy a bloody brain. You, shank, should already know that I rather climbing all the things that we, I mean you, dearest Gally builds."

"Oh, fuck you Paisley."

"I mean, if you insist" you look at Gally, grinning, but you knew if you went at it much longer you would step the line.

"I'd be in the right mind to call a bloody meeting of my fellow keepers and have you thrown in the slammer. Tread lightly, shuckface."

Now, as you'd learn soon, Gally would keep his word.

"Well, Gally's point still stands. Paisley doesn't chip in, she does no work."

"Newt, c'mon. I am not meant to be a builder, I want to do something where I can get rid of my energy, roam free or something."

Newt pulled Minho to the side, it was definitely something, why the shuck would Newt involve Minho, he was a runner, not a builder or a keeper of anything even closely related, wait, he was a runner, he got rid of energy, and got to roam free. Shit, Newt didn't think, shuck did he?

Minho looked at you, then back at Newt. They continued to talk, after they talked, they nodded in agreement.

"Hey Alby, C'mere for a second."

"Yeah, Newt, Minho, what's up?"

They whispered again, this time, it was Alby who nodded.

"Everybody quiet down, we have come to a conclusion."

Each keeper in the room took to their seats without a word, waiting eagerly to see what you were in for.

"Gally, I would like you to state what has been happening, for everyone to understand the situation."

"Ok, as everyone knows, Paisley, is not a very hard worker, and of all the jobs in the glade, she has failed to do any of them. With me, she is a bit more tame, because she is seriously just climbing around, she has seriously only built one thing. A shucking climbing frame."

A few people laughed at Gally's proclamation, a few look at you in annoyance.

"Okay, okay. Newt and myself have come to an agreement with one of the other keepers. Paisley has stated that she needed to get rid of her energy and roam free. Make you think of a job anyone?"

Frypan was first to speak "Runner?"

"Right on mate, Minho has agreed to this."

Minho nodded, he always liked a challenge, but, the two most sarcastic and snarky people in the glade, being cooped up with each other for 6-8 hours at a time, that, could get interesting.

Gally rolled his eyes, "Come on, give her the title of being a runner and then she can stay in the shucking maze for as long as she wants, you won't be able to get her out of there."

"Now now Gally the superhero, keep on rolling your eyes, who knows, maybe one day you will find the brain I told you to buy. Anyways Gally, you are seriously concerned or something."

"Oh you stupid klunk, I am just saying that you will probably stay in there, hopefully getting trapped. Then we won't have to deal with your shenanigans anymore, don't you get it, you, don't, belong. You aren't normal" he said the last two sentences with spite.

"Gally, Gally, Gally. How hard it must be for you, using all of your vocabulary in one statement. Also, define normal."

"Paisley, how about we go outside." a voice said, it was manipulated, like Gally's but also like Newt's, assuming it was Newt's you just walked outside.

Only after you got a few meters outside of council hall did you turn around. There he was, Gally, looking fuming.

"You better watch your self, you are getting so fucking close to being dead meat. I promise you, you don't want to be a runner."

"Well I don't give a fuck"

Gally, the giant he was, towered over you furious.

"You aren't my keeper anymore, that is Minho's job now, you are now a fucking nobody to me in this glade, you are just, another, person"

Gally, not being able to hold his temper, swung at you, aiming for your gut. Luckily you ducked and elbowed his crotch, causing him to fold like a deck chair. Flinging a fist to his back he collapsed completely to the ground.

Gally flung his arm out and snatched your wrist, pulling you into him.

"I tolerated you, haven't you noticed that I was nicest to you. You don't understand, now you have stepped the line."

Gally pulled himself up, and still held your wrist.

He began to walk toward the slammer, pulling you along with him.

He grabbed your other wrist and put it into his other hand, he had both of your arms in the grip of one hand.

"Gally, stop it."

You wriggled your wrists, attempting to remove them from his grip, only to being given an even tighter grip and to be dragged even harder.

You were almost at the slammer when Gally spoke,

"You know, Paisley, there is a reason I have always picked on you, been really stubborn with you."

"Why is that, Gally, because I am fun to annoy, because I bite back?"

"Ughh, shuck it. It's because I fucking like you, you dumb shank, how hadn't you noticed. It's ruined anyways, no doubt about that."

Gally yanked the door to the slammer open.

It wasn't your first time being in the slammer, you had seen in when you were on the tour.

It smelled musty and sweaty. The walls were cracked and scratched at, they had a bit of graffiti on them too, typical boys. The ground, it was just dirt. Sitting in the middle of the slammer, covered in dirt, was the chair, the one that Nick, poor, poor Nick told you had 1 leg shorter to cause discomfort.

"Gally, what are we doing here. I don't under-" Your words were stopped by Gally pushing you in, this wasn't a gentle push, it was enough to send you into the opposite wall, even though the slammer wasn't that big.

The door slammed behind you, making you shudder.

"Gally, what the fuck has gotten into you."

"Paisley, I need you to listen to me, and don't interrupt me until I am done"

"Well it's not like I have a choice, is it?"

"Nope"

"Well go on then, I don't have all night"

"I have always told myself that, you were the only girl, that must have hardships, she probably has had enough with boys and their desires, so I should treat her how I treat my men, never make any exceptions, and crack down just as hard for anything she does. And for the most part, that is what happened. But Paisley, I like you, I like how you are sarcastic, I love that you can stand up for yourself. And I am sorry for trying to punch you earlier, I needed to get you here, so you would have to listen."

"Gally, slow down, let me out."

He complied, prepared for you to be angry.

The door creaked open and he got punched in the face with the smell of sweat and mildew.

You walked out, confidence filling your body, you had the upper hand, the ball was in your court.

"Gally, I can't believe you. I fucking can't believe it."

He was confused, he expected you to hit him already.

I mean, you did hit him, but, like, with a hug.

You slammed your body into his, pushing him backwards into the door, grasping your arms around him, savoring the warmth of his body, turning your head into his chest, you listened to his heart, it beat quite fast.

Gally smelled like clean, like fresh, he had the smell of soap, but a hint of lemongrass and dill.

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Gally POV:

I thought she would have hit me, I made an outrageous statement, that I was in love with her, yet she took it so easily.

She just leapt at me, as a flash of black and blue. It all went so fast, I tried to stand firm, knowing that we were probably about to get in a fistfight.

I stood frozen for what felt like forever, and then she was on me, small little Paisley, the little fighter, but she wasn't fighting, she was embracing.

I don't know what got into me, I was paralyzed. She gripped her arms around my midriff and clawed at my back, pushing herself into me, refusing to let go.

My heart was pounding, I still don't know what got into me, the effect she was having was unrecognizable to any other emotion that I had.

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He wasn't present in that moment, he was like a statue. That was until, you felt him begin to melt, his muscles relaxing and his bending over, leaning into you.

His arms drifted slowly around you, like they were light as a feather, he took care not to put too much pressure on your body.

You released your arms from his back, moving them up to his face, pulling his face in toward yours, closing the gap between you even more.

Your lips pressed together, slowly moving, creating a gentle suction, Gally grazed your lips with his teeth, making your lips tingle.

Gally moved his up and down your hips, pushing on them, all the while pulling you in.

Before you knew it, his hands slipped under your shirt and tried pulling it off, man, this boy has got some nerve, but you allowed him, momentarily stopping kissing.

Then he pulled off his shirt, showing his smooth, layered, rippling muscles, and his tanned skin, warm and inviting.

He pulled you behind the slammer, so nobody could see the two of you, making love after you just got into a fight.

Gently tracing up your arm, over your collar bone, up your neck and chin, he spoke soft words,

"Are you sure you are fine with this Pai?"

"Yes, yes, show me how much you have always wanted me." you spoke breathy, flustered and alarmed. He wanted you, shit, that is cool.

As soon as you had finished speaking, he grabbed both your hands in one of his, in a simple sweep, then he had them up and slammed them against the wall of the slammer.

He pushed his head into your neck and sucked, leaving marks, leaving hickeys.

Your breathing and your heartrate sped up and you couldn't stop yourself from making a small noise, a moan.

Gally let go of your hands and worked at removing your jeans, undoing the button, and undoing the zipper, before he finally pulled them off.

"Seriously Pai? Pink underwear, for the way you act, I would have thought it would be black hole colored."

You winced, embarrassed, but Gally took this as a chance to dominate you even more, he yanked your underwear down, dropping himself with it.

Peppering your abdomen with kisses was annoying, why can't he just get to the good stuff.

Then he began to finger you, effortlessly finding the right bundles of nerves on your skin, leaving you a trembling mess, shuddering and shaking.

You wrapped your fingers through his hair tugging at it. "Gally, we really shouldn't be doing this. It's too much."

"Pai, calm down, you don't need to get so concerned."

"Gally. Gally listen to me."

He stopped everything, and stepped back and looked down on you.

"What Pai, what is wrong, the fact that for once I am actually being nice for once?"

"No Gally, it just feels wrong doing, this. Especially when less than an hour ago we just fought each other. Maybe we can try this another day, please Gally, just let's take a break for a bit."

"Ok Pai, sorry I made you feel like that. But Pai, just remember I love you."

Gally stepped towards you.

"If you want to stop Paisley, I am fine with that, I only want to do what you are comfortable"

He cupped his hands around your cheeks and used his thumbs to massage up and down your cheek bones. He slid his hands around your head and dropped them behind your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle hug.

"I love you Pai, I love you Pai, you are so beautiful." he whispered into your ear.

"We can try again whenever you want. If that's okay with you."

"I love you Gally, thank you."

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Ok, it is finally done, this took way too long. Hope you enjoyed!

#tmr gally #fan made #maze runner the death cure #tmr minho #tmr newt #the maze runner #maze runner #tmr #tmr fandom #tmr alby #smut tmr #fem reader #female reader #gally x reader #tmr original character #smut writing #paisley is an icon

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awkward-halfhug · 7 months ago

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to soften rough edges | gally x oc

summary: Subject B10 Rosalind Franklin (Frankie) was supposed to be sent to Group B. Due to a mixup by an incompetent WICKED employee, she was sent to Group A, the all-boys maze. How will her unexpected appearance affect the variables, the Glade, and the lives of everyone in it? For one Glader in particular, Frankie might be changing, not only his present, but his entire life going forward. And not because he can't get her to stop following him around like a baby duck....Well, not only

(also on my ao3)

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

4.6k

"Teeny tiny shovels and prison walls"

Ping. Ping ping ping. Whoosh, Ping. Ping ping. Whoosh.

“Awww yeah! Take that, Rebecca from accounting!”

Peter K. Rosenthal, Head of operations at the World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department, Base A, let out a girlish squeal of victory as his initials finally topped the charts of the online pinball tournament. Most of the Base had become obsessed with it the last few months. He took a moment to stare at the screen, basking in the glory of his hard-earned achievement. Rebecca had been stiff competition; it was going to feel so good to gloat about this in the morning.

Letting out a yawn, Peter read the time at the bottom of his computer screen. The numbers 3:07 blinked back at him and he sighed, remembering what day it was tomorrow. Or rather, today. Greenie day, as the kids have named it. The set day each month that they send a new subject into the Maze. A lot of preparation and paperwork had to be done the week beforehand, but it always seemed to get put off to the last few hours the night before. This month they were cutting it especially close, being the early morning. It was their own fault, he supposed. Them and that silly pinball tournament. But he wasn't worried.

Fighting another yawn, Peter shook his head and grinned as a thought occurred to him.

“There ain’t no rest for the W.I.C.K.E.D.” Peter chuckled to himself.

Standing up to go refill his coffee, Peter nearly tripped and broke his mug when his office door burst open. A sheepish looking intern stared up at him, his brow worried. Peter sighed heavily; he had been in such a good mood.

“What is it?” Peter raised an eyebrow, already feeling impatient.

“Um..eh heh” the intern shuffled his feet “Uh sir, there’s been a…well I wouldn’t call it a mishap, more like a, like a surprising turn of events. Er, what I’m trying to say is…”

Peter ground his teeth. “Just spit it out already!”

The intern squeezed his eyes shut and let out one long rush of breath, “We brought a girl, sir”.

The intern peeked open one eye to see his boss standing in the same position he had been, wearing a blank expression.

“Sir?” he whispered. Several long minutes passed.

“What do you mean you—“ Peter’s forehead crinkled “How did that even--?”

“Well, it was a big crowd, sir. You know the girls and boys hang out together in the rec room. And we’ve been running a bit behind as you know, so we weren’t quite as thorough in our examination of the subject before we—“

“’Not quite as thorough’? What kind of idiots am I hiring if you can’t even tell a girl from a boy?”

“W-well she was wearing a hoodie, sir, and it was kind of baggy, so—“

“Stop. Just stop talking. I am this close to firing you, I swear. Just erase these last few hours from her mind, send her back to the facility and fix this.” Peter waved him away and plopped back into his swivel chair, feeling more exhausted than he was when he started his break. As he was turning back to face his desk, however, the intern’s mousey voice broke through his calm once again.

“We can’t, sir.”

Peter sat up straighter. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“It’s too late. The drive to the facility holding the kids is already hours away, since it’s night it would take almost twice as long trying to avoid the cranks. We don’t have that kind of time. We only have a few hours before we send the subject up.”

Peter cracked his knuckles, staring at the wall behind the intern’s head, presumably deep in thought.

“Sir?... Sir, what do we do? Should we postpone the arrival?”

Several minutes passed before finally Peter seemed to remember the intern’s question, looking him straight in the eye. “No. No, send her up.” Peter nodded to himself, affirming his own decision while the intern spluttered.

“Send her up? Sir, are you sure that’s a good idea? Won’t the variables—“

Peter’s voice hardened with authority. “I am the head of operations here, I decide the variables. You are an intern, you do as I say. Are we now clear on our positions?”

“Yes, sir. You’re right, sir. Sending her up, sir.” The intern gulped before scurrying off to inform his coworkers of the decision.

Peter sank back into his chair when he left. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Sending a girl in could mess with the other variables. Their results might be affected negatively, and they’d end up wasting time they don’t have starting the process all over again. On the other hand, this could be just the variable they’ve been looking for. The change could trigger reactions and emotions in the kids’ brains that otherwise would have gone unexplored.

This could, in fact, turn out to be a very good decision. Time would tell. In the meantime, Peter prepared this explanation over and over again in his mind, perfecting it for when the time came to answer to the higher ups. A conversation he was most definitely not looking forward to. Just in case, he started thinking up some rebuttals to any arguments they might have, including reminding them of what the ‘E’ in W.I.C.K.E.D. stands for.

“Yeah, that’ll shut ‘em up.” Peter mumbled to himself, just before drifting off to sleep on his keyboard.

Pain. In her neck. Neck pain. That was the first thing she was aware of. She changed positions but found that made it worse.

Awake now, but still unwilling to open her eyes, she stretched out her limbs to get more comfortable and smacked her wrist on something hard. Groaning, she recoiled from the source of her pain, clutching her wrist for comfort. She sighed, realizing that trying to sleep anymore would be pointless.

With a frown, she opened her eyes and promptly jumped back, in pain once again. This time it was the back of her head that got smacked, but that was the least of her concerns. As she took in the unfamiliar room she was in, barely being able to make out anything in the near-blackness, she racked her brain but couldn’t for the life of her remember how she got there. Or where she would normally wake up, for that matter.

Frantic, she sat up straighter, trying to retrace her steps from the day before. Her breaths came quicker as she realized she couldn’t remember anything. She could picture images in her mind's eye. Things like purple clouds and a stuffed animal of some sort. Several different cats. Movie-like snapshots of moments that meant nothing. She couldn't remember anything important— her life, her history, where she lived, friends, family, not even her own name.

Suddenly, the room she was in seemed a lot smaller. She hugged her knees to her chest, shying away from the light filtering in through slits in the walls. She realized she was moving, upward, like she was in some sort of elevator, which seemed even more frightening. As off-putting as this room was, she felt sure that whatever was at the top of this thing would be a lot worse, somehow. The creaking and grinding of gears all around her seemed foreboding and her pulse quickened as each second passed.

After what seemed like hours, the elevator room stopped, making a horrible sound and jolting her forward onto her knees. She took a few deep breaths, mentally preparing herself for whatever came next. Several tense minutes passed. Finally, the doors opened.

Light streamed through the ceiling, so bright it was almost blinding. Preparing for the worst, she backed up until her back hit a wall, reaching around for something to use as a weapon if necessary, but couldn't find anything. She waited for her eyes to adjust and steeled her nerve for whatever nightmare awaited her.

Her vision cleared. She laughed. Long and hard. Enough to turn the few murmurs she could hear above her, into alarmed bickering.

Having expected to see monsters of some sort, or even something just a little more intimidating, being greeted by a group of teenage boys was, to say the least, anti-climactic. And it was more than a little funny. In her adrenaline-addled mind it was hilarious.

She could feel her laughter melting away some of her stress and by the time she heard someone jump down into the box with her, she was feeling a lot calmer than she had just minutes before.

As the boy approached her, a bit more fear started creeping up her spine again. He towered over her, his form imposing. And he wasn't laughing.

Why was she laughing again? She felt like she should stop, but she couldn't. More giggles bubbled up from her chest, now tinged with anxiety instead of mirth. They tapered off as the boy came closer and closer, her pulse now loud in her ears.

Okay so maybe teenage boys aren't monsters, but they could still hurt her if they wanted to. This one certainly could. Did he want to hurt her? What was going on here? Why hadn't he said anything yet?

He'd just been staring for a solid minute, stood before her with his brows scrunched up in...anger? Or confusion? If he was confused that made two of them.

His eyebrows could go up really high. She almost started laughing again, it was so comical, but she managed to control herself. What was wrong with her? This was a tense situation. Focus. She decided to wait on him to break the silence.

"Gally, what's going on down there?"

Or that guy could break it.

The boy in front of her, Gally apparently, opened his mouth and closed it a few times, like a fish. This time she did let a laugh slip, but she clamped her mouth shut again when his eyes narrowed slightly. Focus.

He shook his head a bit as he called up to whichever boy had spoken. "It's...it's a girl."

Chaos broke out above them. Boys shouting over eachother, some sounding confused, some happy for some reason, and a couple even sounding angry.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, right! We're not falling for that one again."

"There's no way."

"Is she hot?"

"What's she look like?"

"The Creators have finally answered our requests!"

The voices were mingled with laughter and jeering and she could see a few of them playfully shoving eachother. All of it mixed together to overwhelm her senses.

Unconsciously, she pressed herself as far back against the wall as she could. There were a lot of them. Not monsters; teenage boys. But a lot of them. She didn't feel like laughing anymore.

Gally seemed to notice her distress, almost taking another step towards her before stopping himself. Kneeling down to her level, he softened his features marginally. He wasn't very good at it, but he seemed to be trying.

"Hey. You're alright. I'm sure you've got questions, and we'll try to answer 'em. But right now, how 'bout we get you out of this box, yeah?"

She started to nod, his voice was gruff, yet calming, and she felt somehow safer listening to it. She didn't know anything about herself but hopefully she was a good judge of character. He seemed genuine. But flicking her eyes up to all the boys huddled over them, she felt anxious all over again.

"Don't worry about them", he leaned in a bit and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "They're a bunch of shanks but they're pretty harmless." His mouth quriked up to the side and she felt herself smiling in return.

"Okay..." her voice sounded small. Was that how her voice usually sounded? She sort of hoped not.

He reached a hand out for her to grab and she took it with only slight hesitation. Hoisting her up, Gally caught her by the arms before she barrelled into him.

"You ready?"

She nodded in reply, and he wrapped his large hands around both her sides securely, before hefting her up and over the side of the elevator like she weighed nothing.

Pulling herself over the lip, she almost fell back into the box when she looked up. Yep. A whole lot of boys, all staring at her, and very very close now. She tried to smile at them but it felt more like a grimace.

Cue more nervous laughter. She's gotta get that checked out.

"You weren't kidding, Gal" one said in amazement, his eyes glued to her.

A few hoots and hollers started going around the crowd along with some whistles. Someone reached out a hand to touch her shoulder but she jerked away.

She wanted back in the box. She turned to climb back down when Gally appeared over the edge, carrying a large crate over one shoulder. She ducked out of his way while he deposited it on the ground next to her with a thump.

He jumped back down to collect another crate and she climbed down quickly behind him, before one of the boys could grab her. One had made a move toward her and she heard a few aww's as she went.

Hearing a roar of laughter from above, Gally turned around to find her back in the box, hiding in the corner closest to him, nearly out of sight of the other boys.

He looked annoyed for a moment, before sighing and coming to stand in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Didn't I just get you out of here?"

She nodded sheepishly.

Realistically, she probably couldn't just stay in this box forever. For one, there was no bathroom. Or food for that matter. And for two, as much as coming out of the box scared her, the thought of going back to wherever the box came from scared her even more.

Still, she didn't want to be alone with those boys up there.

"Do you...do you need help?"

Gally looked amused. "You wanna help, huh?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

Gally chuckled. "Well, this is another first. Sure, why not? Why don't you hand me those crates over there?"

Immensely relieved, she made her way over to the crates he pointed to and tried to pick one up.

Tried. She forgot about her wrist, still sore from banging it earlier. It didn't seem actually injured, but she could tell it was going to bruise.

It wasn't that bad, she could manage. Furrowing her brow, she straightened up, stretched her arms, and tried again. And again.

Laughter picked up again, this time Gally joined in. She looked over and frowned at him. She'd thought they were friends. Granted, she'd only known him for a few minutes, but still.

She huffed and tried one more time, and finally managed to lift it up off the ground as high as she could...for all of 5 seconds before her wrist twinged and her arms gave out. The crate crashed to the ground; the sound of the wood breaking apart and tools clattering against the metal floor making her wince.

Slowly, she turned on the spot to look warily at Gally. Her new friend. Her buddy ol' pal.

He was glaring at her. A soft glare, but a glare nonetheless.

"Sorry..." she mumbled, and his glare softened further.

He shook his head. "S'okay. Just, no heavy lifting I guess." Gally looked around and seemed to think. "How 'bout you grab one of those bags over there and start picking up the tools?"

She did as he said and started gathering the tools that had fallen and placing them in one of the empty potato sacks nearby. There were a lot of tools. What did they need all these tools for? A shiver of fear went through her, again reminded of how much she didn't know.

Who even were these boys? And why did they need her? Were they going to kill her? Is that what they needed the little shovels for? Are they going to kill her and bury her with these teeny tiny shovels? Is that why they need so many? They'd be digging for a long time, these things are so small.

"You about done there?" Gally's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts and made her jump.

She spun around to see him just behind her, having finished hefting the rest of the crates up to the other boys. She looked back at the tiny shovels, then back to him. Might as well just ask.

"What are these for?" She held one up for him to see.

He looked at her with amusement again, laced with a little bit of pity. "Gardening."

" Oh. Right."

Her relief must've shown on her face because he smirked and asked her "What did you think they were for?

She debated not telling him, but she's not sure what could've told him besides the truth. Besides, she was probably being ridiculous. She settled on mumbling it under her breath.

"...to bury me with"

"What was that?" He looked like he was about to laugh.

She huffed. "I thought they were to bury my body with after you've killed me." There. She said it, loud and clear. He can laugh if he wants.

Oh. Oh no, what if she just gave him the idea to kill her and bury her body with all the little gardening shovels?

He did start laughing, like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Maybe it was. Maybe these boys were the furthest thing from dangerous as they could be and the idea was so preposterous that-

"Greenie," Gally got out between laughs "if we were gonna kill you, we wouldn't bother burying your body. We'd just leave you to the grievers and they'd take care of it for us."

Her eyes must've looked like saucers, they were so wide. They might still kill her! Without even the decency to bury her, even though they had perfectly good little shovels to do the job. And grievers? What the heck were those? They sounded scary.

"Gally!" An authoritative voice called down from above. He sounded chastising.

Gally tamped down on his chuckles and seemed to finally take in (or care about) the horror that must be painted on her face. He sighed and attempted to soften his features again.

"We're not gonna kill ya. That's one of the rules around here. We don't hurt each other." He reached over and ruffled her hair playfully, before kneeling down and putting the rest of the tools in the bag. He finished the job efficiently and swung the bag over one of his shoulders.

Gally turned to climb back up out of the box but stopped and looked at her over his shoulder.

"You comin'?" He lifted an eyebrow expectantly.

She hesitated.

Gally's expression turned to one of impatience and he opened his mouth to say something but she spoke before he could.

"I'm scared." Her eyes flicked upwards and back to him.

Gally dropped the bag to the floor and came to stand in front of her again. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes. The weight was oddly comforting.

"Look," he sighed, and gentled his voice. "Nothing's gonna happen to you, alright? I won't let anyone hurt you...Do you trust me?"

She barely knew him. Then again, she barely knew herself. If she couldn't trust her memory, she should at least trust her gut.

"Yeah, I do." She nodded firmly.

That was apparently not the answer he thought she'd give. Gally looked surprised, like he didn't actually expect her to say yes. She supposed that made sense. Maybe he thought she was too trusting. But then, why ask her?

Gally recovered quickly. "Well...good, then. Good. Uh, well let's get you out of here. Again." He emphasized that last word with a pointed look.

Allowing Gally to heft her up once again, she braced herself for the crowding and the cacophony of noise that would greet her.

When she got topside, however, the crowd had dispersed considerably. How had she not noticed how quiet it had gotten? There were still a couple boys that were left, but they didn't appear to be rowdy like the others, and they weren't looking at her in a way that made her uncomfortable either. She could feel her heartrate slowing, the fear calming down as she looked at the small crowd.

One of the boys was tall and blonde, with long, gangly limbs. He was smiling at her gently. Beside him stood a shorter boy; stockier and with darker skin. He looked at her cautiously but still kindly.

They both had varying levels of curiosity in their expressions. She wondered if her face reflected it back to them.

She was getting dizzy with all the emotions fighting for dominance in her body. Fear, confusion, amusement, calm, fear, calm; each shoved the last aside and took its turn at the helm, like they all wanted to be captains and she was the pirate ship.

That was a funny mental image. Guess it's amusement's turn.

She forced herself to pay attention when she noticed one of them was talking.

"Welcome to the Glade, she-bean." The darker boy extended his hand to her. She looked to Gally and he gave a little nod so she took the outstretched hand. He had a firm handshake.

" I see you've already met Gally," the boy continued, glancing at Gally with a wry smirk. "But don't let him give you a bad impression, we're not all slintheads."

At his words, Gally colored and looked away, his jaw set and brows furrowed. He looked angry, and a little hurt. She didn't know what a slinthead was, but it couldn't be good. She felt hurt for him.

"I'm Alby. and this here is Newt. We'll give you the tour tomorrow and try to answer any questions you have. If you-"

Gally started to walk away and she found the courage to speak up.

"Gally's not a slinthead." She interrupted whatever Alby was going to say, her voice only shaking a little. She couldn't focus past the sudden indignation anyway.

Gally stopped in his tracks.

Alby looked taken aback. His mouth hung slightly open, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. She took the opportunity while he was at a loss for words.

"He's not. He was nice to me. Maybe you're the slintheads for saying that."

Okay, maybe that last bit was too far. She felt her face burning; her chest constricting in fear. Why was she antagonizing him? She knew nothing about her current situation and this guy looked to be the leader of this gang. She should not be picking fights!

But Gally had been kind to her. He was her friend, she'd already decided. And they were being mean to him...

She held her breath and ducked her head like a child awaiting punishment. Peaking up at him through her eyelashes, she watched as Alby recovered from his shock. His face was stern, a little confused perhaps, but his lips were twitching.

It was Newt that broke the tension by busting up laughing. She took in a lungful of air in relief. She just learned something about herself: she did not like tension.

"She sure told you, Alby. We better watch our shuck mouths around this one." Newt playfully pat Alby on the shoulder, and Alby rolled his eyes at him. Extending his hand out for her to shake as well, Newt continued. "You're gonna be a lot of bloody fun, I can tell. Nice to meet you."

She liked Newt, she decided. She smiled a little as she shook his hand.

"Thank you. I mean, it's nice to meet you. I mean, I'm sorry for calling you a slinthead. I mean-"

Newt cut her off with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Easy there, she-bean."

She saw Gally out of the corner of her eye trying to stifle a smirk. He called back to the other two boys.

"You two slintheads need anything else, or can I get back to my job?" He winked at her when he called them 'slintheads'. Her heart did a funny flipping thing. Then his words registered.

"You're leaving?" She took a step towards him unconsciously, her eyes pleading with him to stay with her.

Gally looked surprised again. He hesitated, looking between her, Alby, and Newt. "Umm..."

Alby was smiling broadly now; a stark contrast from his previous guarded expressions.

"Yeah, Gally, why don't you stick around? I've got a few things to see to anyway. You and Newt can show her to her hammock." Without waiting for a reply, Alby clapped Gally on the shoulder and took off toward some sort of building in the distance.

Watching him go, her eyes finally took notice of her surroundings. They were in a large grassy area. She saw gardens, trees, wooden buildings, more trees, more buildings, animals. There were animals!

Then she noticed the walls. Big, ginormous stone walls, covered in ivy, wrapping around the entire space in a huge square. They reminded her of something...

"This is a prison" she breathed. Panic was taking the helm.

Newt held his hands out to placate her. "Now, hold on."

She stepped out of his reach, bumping into Gally in the process. She turned and addressed her questions to him.

"Are we prisoners? Did we do something wrong? Did I kill someone?" Her eyes widened in horror; her breaths coming in quicker. She really hoped she hadn't killed anybody. The possibilities ran through her mind and filled her with a sense of dread.

Gally placed his hands on her shoulders and, like before, the weight helped steady her. He took her chin in between his fingers and gently forced her head up to look him in the eye.

"Calm down, greenie." Her shoulders relaxed. She did feel calmer. How did he do that? "Look, none of us know what this place is. But I do know one thing for certain: you did not kill anybody."

"How do you know?"

He smirked at her. "I just know."

She's not sure how he would know that but Gally seemed certain, so she'd take his word for it.

"So, what's outside the walls?"

Gally's eyes had a faraway look in them when he replied. "For now, all you need to know is that you're not allowed past them, and that it's for your own good."

With those foreboding words still ringing in her ears, Gally removed his hands from her shoulders, apparently deeming her calm enough.

Newt spoke up again. "Right, how about seeing where you're gonna sleep, yeah? Follow me."

Newt started walking towards one of the forested areas. She looked at Gally, who gave her a nod, and she followed Newt.

"Gally, can you come up here a second?" Newt called back. Gally jogged up to walk with Newt a few steps ahead of her.

Newt leaned in close to Gally as they walked, affected a high pitched voice and said "Calm down, greenie".

Gally rolled his eyes and shoved Newt away, but Newt just laughed and leaned in again. "I'll protect you greenie, do you trust me?" Newt batted his eyelashes. "Didn't think I heard that, did ya?"

Gally was beet red as he gave Newt another half-hearted shove. "Shut up."

Newt's laughter could be heard across the Glade as they made their way to the hammocks.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging, it means a lot ♡

#maze runner #gally x oc #gally/oc #tmr #tmr gally #tmr gally x oc #gally x fem!oc #gally x original character #gally fanfiction #the maze runner fanfiction #maze runner fanfiction #tmr fanfiction

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emixunn · 8 months ago

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Mazeclan page 1

A maze-runner and slightly warrior cats inspired webcomic!

#mazeclan #warrior cats #warriors #digital art #art #artwork #cat art #character art #webcomic #original comic #comic #a maze runner inspired warrior cats au #maze runner

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foreverforgally · 2 years ago

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In The Garden

a Gally Fanfic; Chapter 2

The Bonfire

Summary - You, The reader, are the first female ever to grace the presence of the Glade. At first the tensions between you and keeper Gally are high, the enemies to lovers trope creeps through your life. Will you give into the trope? Or will you chose the love triangle?

Warnings - Maybe smut in different chapters or hints of sexual activity. Fluff! Angst! I am definitely not a good writer!

Hollers of celebration filled the air as the boys surrounded the pit. “Tonight, we honor a new greenie, a girl!” The boys around Alby shouted in salute to my existence, it made me giggle and holler in acknowledgment.

“Light it up!” the stakes they all held were thrown into the fire and the wooden statue lit up so bright. The feeling it gave me was exhilarating, everyone cheered on and smiled through their conversations.

“Fun right? it’s like the family you got stuck with.” newt slid down to my side, a jar of suspicious yellow liquid in his hand.

I turned and looked at his boyish smile, “ I wouldn’t say it’s my happiest moment, I once found ten pounds in my pocket and it was amazing.”

He laughed, “How do you remember that and not your name.” He leaned in closer.

“I’m lying out of my ass.” I giggled and grinned, his matching mine from ear to ear. “You’re really something, aren’t you greenie?” He got closer and I could feel his breath on mine.

“I don’t remember being told so, so I’ll take your word for it.” I pulled away from the moment, feeling shy out of my mind and eager to change the topic.

“So, do I want to know what the hell is in that jar?” I said, grimacing down at that suspicious jar of liquid again.

Newt beamed and offered the jar in my direction. “Want to try it? It’ll knock you off your boots and take the edge off.” he swished the liquid around to try and make it more appealing

The jar made me nothing but uncomfortable, Newt swished the jar at me again with a stupid smile plastered on his face. it probably wasn’t even that gross so I took the jar from his hands and took a swig.

Immediately I gagged and swallowed the substance as hard and fast as I could as Newt completely laughed his ass off at my choking.

“Oh my fuck what the hell is that?” I coughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Can’t handle your alcohol newbie?” God I could wipe that grin off his british mug.

“Yeah well I was going to give you a nasty look but I see you already have one.” I choked off my words as he laughed out again. “Please greenie I’m beautiful, you just can’t hold your own.”

“Ok get up, there’s a few people I want you to meet.” Newt stood to his feet, exhaling his laughter as he he reached his hand out to help me up from my seat on my log.

Newt walked me over to multiple groups, introducing me to everyone of them. He told me that starting tomorrow I will work in every department to see where I fit best. Hopefully I won’t have to bust my ass to prove myself.

The group gathered in a circle behind us, was this another part of the bonfire? “Cmon let’s go check it out.” Newt lead me towards the circle, letting us have front seats to the show.

It was brutal, in the middle was none other than Gally and he looked.. so good. If I didn’t have a vendetta against eyebrows i would definitely say the warm light of the fire kissing his skin made him look knee bending. But of course why would I ever say that.. where would my self respect be?

“Gah!” he threw the other guy out of the circle with an ease of a grunt, like the weight was nothing to him. The crowd around us cheered him on yada yada, is this why his ego is so massively inflamed? Someone oughta put him on his ass.

“See, this is a game we play every bonfire, if you remember our rules i told you earlier you’d remember no glader can physically hurt each other. The point of this game is to push the other bloke out of the circle. Currently however, that shuck is undefeated.” Newt pointed towards Gally as he stalked around the circle, looking for his next pray.

His eyes locked on mine, and a one sided smirk crept onto his face. His pace around the circle stopped and he lift his finger to point at me.

“Greenie! Come, show us what you got.” Everyone around us oohed and laughed as I looked towards Newt who shrugged.

“Gally.” Alby gave him a look. “What i’m not gonna hurt her.” Gally brushed off his warning and turned his attention toward me.

“What, too chicken? Too scared little girl?” The word girl sos off his tongue like venom, his tone was threatening and i so needed to gouge his pretty eyes out.

All I had to do was kick his ass out of the circle, that should be easy enough.

I stomped one foot into the circle, “Please, you’ll never be the man your mother was.” This had him going. The reaction from the crowd combined with his embarrassment, you could see the smoke spilling from his ears.

“Alright greenie, rules are simple. I try to push you out of the circle, and you try not to cry like a girl.” Gally smirked at me, his stance widening as he grounded himself.

If looks could kill, he’d be ebliterated. Huffing, i waited for him to make a move. The guy was a big but he was such a bigot.

He grunted as he sprinted at me, arms held out to grab me but I ducked. Last minute I darted quickly under his arms and ran behind him, sliding to the ground to carry me out of the way.

He turned around prepared, but I swept my legs below his, knocking Gally to the ground. He got up quicker than he was on the floor and was back to strategizing. He ran towards me, barreling in a heat of rage to catch me.

this time he caught me and took me down with him. I struggled but i got him on his back. The crowd roared as I slid my legs on his sides and pinned him down. "Not bad for a girl, huh?" I smirked, huffing at his defeat. His eyes glazed over, and he placed his giant hands on the sides of my thighs.

"Yeah, but you haven't won yet." And he flipped us over, so he was on top. The both of us were winded, our chests heaving in synch and the eye contact was heavy. it felt like people were maving slowly, the cheers drowning out. "C'mon Greenie!" I reached my hand up slowly, placing it on the side of his jaw.

His movements faltered and his gaze grew softer. A smirk grew on my face, I got him right where I need him. I quickly slammed his head to the ground next to our bodies. I grabbed his shirt and successfully kicked him out of the circle.

The Crowd cheered me on, screaming my glade given name. Being in the center of cheers like this felt normal, I was used to being in the center like this with my arms up and the energy boosting my ego.

"C'mon Quinn, get his legs!" The trainer paced across the training mat as me and another person wrestled. My arms and legs were at their limits, and I ran towards A-9 and ducked under their swing, I pushed their back down and swept my legs under theirs, their head slamming into the ground.

I panted hard, struggling to catch my breath. "And that’s a match, you need to improve your swings, Quinn. You cant rely on your fists all the time." The trainer let out a breathy chuckle and laid his arm over my shoulders, my white jumpsuit darkening in areas l've sweated. "I’ll work on it Jansen, can't be a weapon if I cant fight, huh?” smirked and nodded my head towards him.

"Quinn! My name is Quinn!" Alby ran over and grabbed my hand, raising it towards the sky. “To Quinn!” He bellowed out and the other Gladers crowded around, taking turns shoving me and patting my back, cheering my name.

I never felt more belonging.

#gally maze runner #gally imagine #gally #tmr gally #gally x reader #newt tmr #tmr x reader #tmr alby #the maze runner #fanfic #famfiction #oc story #original character #foreverforgally;itg

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werdlewrites · 1 year ago

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masterlist -ao3 - twitter @ djomamma

share support through likes, comments and reblogs! Or through my kofi!

summary: “Fuck you!” “Stop, stop!” Gally has his arms wrapped around the girl like a prison, containing the beast that bared its teeth until it surrendered to the emptiness. “There's nothing you can do! He's gone, Gwen!” Thomas has drifted from the scene before she's even noticed him. His own voice plays out pained apologies for what he's done. And for what he plans to do. warnings: death, violence, child death(canon T_T), MIX OF BOOKS AND MOVIE wc: 3,326

The first time he sees her is late in the day - eyes trained on the doors in anticipation of what Chuck's promised. Machines built into stone, coming to life just before the sun begins to set. It's insanity, and a piece of him believes it was all some elaborate trick they played on every boy brought up through the box. Some sort of initiation, and it was sick. He pictures them all gathered, looks of joy on their faces while the newcomer spun out of control, unable to grasp this new reality. Thomas felt as if his mind had been torn not in two, but completely apart in scattered pieces. Shards of memory scrambled in with this new life - one that seems impossible and too cruel for anyone to manifest. "Right on time," the shorter boy states with a wide and silly grin, almost pleased to share this moment with his new friend. To prove him wrong in a matter of minutes. The Newbie spots a dark-haired boy first - shirt tight around well-trained biceps, coated in sweat from a long day spent on the move. She rounds the same corner just after him. Dirt stains paired with her own exhaustion, cheeks red, and focus locked straight ahead - on home. A cloth lays tight against her face, concealing one eye, where multiple scars trail out from beneath and down towards her chest. He feels nauseous - not at the sight, but rather the idea of an unknown tale and how it all came to be. Neither of them slow to a steady stride until each foot landed on the warm grass, moving with purpose and ignoring the sight of a new Glader. She doesn't see him - but he sees her. Brown eyes are glued to her back as she joins others at the steel door, following the small group into the shadows of a mysterious building. "That's Gwen," Chuck chimes in with a smug expression as if hearing the mental torment Thomas put himself through. "Didn't ask," is his dry retort, making a sad attempt to shake away the daze he felt trapped within - gaze still locked on the quiet building, heart aching to know its secrets. "You will. Everybody does." Thomas’ head turns with a look of confusion in his eyes.

What was so special about the girl named Gwen? Why do they care so much?

"Only girl in The Glade." Thomas can't be sure if it's the boom of his heart rattling in his ears, or the metalwork coming to life inside the maze, but it renders all thoughts static.

The only…one?

"Don't get smart, Greenie. You're nothin' special."

She sees him hours later when dinner is loaded up onto plates. Another Greenie is just another mouth to feed and put to work. Nothing more than a body and having seen so many, they all begin to blend together in a mess of testosterone. She's forgotten the date until she spots him across the way - fighting through flames to take a closer look at the boy next to Newt. His movements are quick, head hung low as if having been caught doing something he most certainly shouldn't have. His guide wears a look of amusement, almost laughing to himself at the sudden shyness. "Who's the shank?" She questions, eyeing her mug as the concoction is filled to her liking - and just a smidgen extra. The girl lets out a gasp as the dark liquid continues to rise, the palm of her hand quickly meeting the back of the boy's head, putting the pour to an abrupt stop and spilling down her fingers. "You're shucked in the head if you think I'd drink all that." With a roll of his eyes, Gally sinks away to rest against a tree, arms crossed with his own drink in hand. "’Bout as boring as Alby." The boy takes a heavy swig of his own creation - long immune to the harsh sting against his throat. He waits a moment, a glare somehow parting through the sea of fire just to make his disgust known - hatred of a boy he knows, yet cannot place. He shrugs at first, replying, "Just another Greenbean. A pain in my ass. First place runner for a Slopper." It's his companion's turn to roll her eyes, knowing the boy all too well and his unfavorable attitude - to the Gladers, but most of all, the newbies and their curiosities. "You're bein' mean." He scoffs in reply, unable to pry his eyes away from the dark-haired teen just across the way. "I don't trust him," he states plainly. "You don't know him-" "Made himself right well at home by visiting Benny boy," he interrupts, a look of smug amusement on freckled skin - knowing full well he gave the warning, then let him slip by to suffer the consequences. He can see the way her face pales in horror - a look of shock with one good eye now fading of its spark. She thinks of Ben writhing on the bed, body twisted and drenched in his own blood and poisoned veins. It's a sight to leave anyone petrified - as if they've stumbled into a nightmare with no waking up. "Seen him in The Changing, not more than that. When Baby Benny gets it together, bet he'll tell the same." The confession leaves a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach - nausea boiling up the homebrew until it burns at her insides. The drink is long forgotten, feeling it climb and scratch like the thorns of vines as it seeks an escape. She remembers The Changing - how Gally cried and screamed for death. The way his fingers reached out into nothing, nails shredded to jagged tips as he continued to dig himself out of the grave. Not many have been stung - even fewer have survived the terror. Insanity stripping them of a sense of self as they plunge themselves into darkness if only to escape their hauntings. Gwen sees this boy differently now.

Not just a Greenie, not just a nobody tossed onto the field - but somebody from a life they've forgotten.

A life she had been robbed of.

By the time they make it out to safety, the girl is nothing more than an exhausted and emptied shell of a person. Chuck's blood stains the fabric of her shirt, dried up and stuck beneath her fingernails. There's some sickening feeling of remorse at the idea of washing him away, discarding his sacrifice, and forgetting his pain. He's at the forefront of her mind as they stand amongst…people. Strangers promising sanctuary - a light the boys left behind would never know. As if he can feel the hurt within her, the boy at her side responds in silence - seeing the broken heart she carries. Thomas' hand squeezes hers, a gesture to lift the heavy weight of grief while he continues to work through this bizarre puzzle before them. "Come with me," a woman states in kindness. Her cheeks are rosy and she appears older than her companions - slight wrinkles in her features suggest long stretches of time or severe stress. "Let's get everyone cleaned up. If you'll follow me-" she suggests, easily snaking an arm through Gwen's, guiding her away from her family - from Thomas. The feeling of his hand slipping away from her own sends an immediate panic to run hot through her. The girl's feet are planted and she's looking at the boy with wide eyes, not ready to leave him - unwilling to go with strangers. "Can't have the boys and girls together," the woman says with a laugh, using up her patience as she waits for Gwen to find an ounce of trust. It's never given. Her movement is only encouraged by the small nod of his head, telling her it was okay to go. The girl follows after her guide, focus not once leaving the freckled boy as he too watches with an intense stare. Was it longing? Or something fearful swallowed down to appear more confident for her sake. But she sees the guards at the doors, and can't help but feel as if she were in The Maze once more. Openings protected by Grievers - keeping her locked away from the ones she needed. Gwen slips from her jacket before the escort can process what's happened, watching as the girl flies across the space to collide in his arms, entangled and welcomed in his hold. He clings to her, desperate for closeness - as if her torso pressed to his own isn't enough. Her arms squeeze around his neck, face buried into him as he pulls her in. Thomas keeps darkened eyes trained on the ones at her back, intentions not truly known despite saving them from an unknown fate. "Don't want t'go," she mumbles. Thomas doesn't shift - a threat unheard but gaze burning the words against their skin.

Keep her safe - keep them all safe.

He parts from her but barely. It's just enough to lay a kiss against her forehead, before whispering words of promise, "I'll find you."

She sees him in The Scorch - that’s what they called it. A desert for miles with no hope in sight - only rocks and buildings crushed under the weight of Mother Nature, taking back what was rightfully hers. But Thomas sees something the others don’t; a chance. A life to be had free of WICKED’s grasp. Yet, they carry on and follow his steps marked in the sand. Minutes turn into hours - to days and what feels like a lifetime. Every second spent beneath the sun is more tortuous than The Maze. Still, he does not falter while others submit in his shadow. Gwen is amongst the many who surrender to the powerful forces against them - breathless as she kneels in the sand, waiting to die or be granted peace just over the horizon. He comes for her - a halo of light igniting a look of not only fear but worry in once bright eyes. “You can do this,” he encourages, leaving the weakened girl to roll her eyes. Ever the optimistic. She stands with his help, fingers laced together, not daring to part for fear they’ll suddenly vanish in the storm. “I'm sorry,” he chokes out - the dry air stealing every ounce of remorse that threatens to spill from his eyes. “I - I didn't want-” She sees Thomas as a man with hope brighter than the sun, despite the endless sea they must cross as the harsh wind tears at their skin. There's regret there, too. He endured the loss of Winston with a heavy heart - burdened by guilt and the failure of protecting his family. He's become more than just another pair of hands to build - more than some boy playing hero as he dives headfirst into certain death. He's become a leader and someone she deeply admires through unspoken words, soft touches, and subtle glances beneath the dark of night. “I'll follow you anywhere,” she says, a gust of wind knocking her tired frame forward just enough to see the shock in his eyes. He's just a boy, wearing the weight of the world on his shoulders as he carries them away without a full plan. A choice they allowed to be made for them. Widened eyes settle into realization, and his hand squeezes tightly before tugging her along the journey ahead.

She's not sure when it was decided.

When she felt the pull towards his every step, unknowing he felt the same for hers.

Hope is gone and he's lost sight of purpose in the city. The world is on fire and there's blood in the streets - blood on his hands. Brown eyes had become eerily dark as the flare took their brother. Once kind and full of a certain spark that took Thomas back to when things were simpler. They shift from a man he once knew, to ravenous and desperate for the pain to stop. He swore it all came to an end as their bodies collided, expecting a knife to dig through his flesh, only to find Newt had finished what he couldn't - providing the peace he longed for. And he thinks now, even though he was left standing, that it all did end for him there. She's on her knees at his side, head cradled in her lap with angered slaps against his cheek, as if he were only asleep. “Newt! God damnit!” The blade is ripped from his chest and tossed elsewhere, hoping the reaper would spare this one, and play favorites with a second chance. He sees her and the dread of understanding fills her expression. It pushes him further away into the shadows. “No! Fuck!” Fists pound against his heart, her sanity slipping and becoming unreasonable as she runs for Minho, demanding the serum he holds tight in a trembling fist. “Give it t'me!” With tears in tired eyes, he stands his ground and her desperation comes out as rage, lunging at him with fingers reaching for the vial, unable to grasp the concept of the loss. A brother from The Glade now gone like the others. “Fuck you!” “Stop, stop!” Gally has his arms wrapped around the girl like a prison, containing the beast that bared its teeth until it surrendered to the emptiness. “There's nothing you can do! He's gone, Gwen!”

Thomas has drifted from the scene before she's even noticed him. His own voice plays out pained apologies for what he's done.

And for what he plans to do.

The Safe Haven. A place too good to be true. Full of light and blissful smiles beneath the clear blue skies. There's no more fear, or running. The only stress being how to build the community and protect it from the forces of nature - how it always should have been. No tricks or games. No tests and gunfire to ring out in shattered eardrums. It's almost unsettling to be this still, the waves that crash against rocks and the shoreline the only thing to keep him grounded in this new reality. The taste of salt in the air is a reminder that this was no hallucination, a world people died for. Thomas could see their faces in the darkness just before he woke from a long slumber. There’s no haunting or mocking of his failures, they were just with him. Just present, never to be forgotten. He hadn't locked eyes with Gwen for more than a few seconds at a time, always in a hurry to escape the veil of guilt he wore whenever she smiled his way. Promises had been made and stripped from him as life faded from their eyes. Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way. Letting the pair fizzle out until they become strangers, to end the pain of remembering all they’ve lost. She seems to notice this poorly thought-out plan, yet instead of confronting it head-on, Gwen gives him the space he needs to grieve. Up until they stumble upon one another in the sand. This time, he doesn’t run. The space at his side is filled with her presence, arms just ghosting over one another as they take in the view before them. Having her so close is enough to ease a troubled soul, his lungs exhaling the demons he keeps close with eyes fallen shut, simply basking in the relief and she does the same.

The two remain silent for an unknown amount of time - too fearful of breaking through the calm at risk of either party walking away. But it had been weeks since she heard him speak more than a few mumbles at a distance, she aches for it. Her focus shifts from the crashing waves to his freckled skin. More sun-kissed than she remembers when they first met. A spark of blue shines from the fist at his side, muscles twitching with excitement as her fingers work their way inside. He finally looks at her, watching as she studies the vial up close and how the serum practically glows beneath the sunlight. “This yours?” There’s an uncomfortable shift. A heavy swallow working its way down as he remembers the chair he had been strapped to and all the tragedy to come after. “How’d you know?” A small smile creeps over her features, a softness he had longed for but couldn’t allow himself to enjoy. “I didn’t think you’d stop by the lab for a nice chit-chat.” A weak laugh escapes his chest, nearly missed if it hadn’t been for the smile he held in return. But it’s quick to fade as Teresa’s demise plays on loop, saddened eyes now focused elsewhere to drown out the flashing images. A deep breath steadies Gwen as she embraces the moment, following his gaze out into the horizon, waves now disguising the sound of hard labor and squeals of delight from the camp just over the cliff. “Y’know,” she begins, arms now crossed over her chest. “When I first saw you, I thought you were just another shank.” Another chuckle, unable to resist the pull as tired eyes land back on her. “Just another boy. Another ‘too curious for his own good,’ boy. Curious t’crazy. Robbing me of my ‘glory’ as ‘The Survivor,’” Gwen ends in quotes, cheeks now pink as amusement sweeps in despite the horrors mentioned. An old tale of a Griever finding her in The Maze and striking hard enough to suffer long-term damage, including the loss of an eye, where a bandage always lay.

Lips part to speak, but she’s quick to cut him off before he’s begun. “Reckless and selfless. Willing t’let them take you. Feed you fine meals and bleed you dry.” He feels his knees nearly give in as she makes the connection. There’s no more fun, only the residing fear of his almost sacrifice as he stumbles back into Janson’s hands. “A pig for slaughter.” The memories give enough discomfort that she’s shifting in place, turning to fully face a man who fought for her life. Fought for her to stand on this very beach. “Newt would have been pissed.” For a moment, his name is the dagger that tears its way through his heart. But remembering the fire the boy once had encourages a small smile and she takes it as a victory. “Come back t’me, Thomas.” She’s closer now - unable to avoid even if he wanted to as her hands lay against his sides, keeping him secured. “I want to. I - I just,” It’s the first time speaking since The Flare took their friend and all thoughts are rushing forward to be heard. He has to swallow them down in order to make any sense. “I can’t stop thinking about how I could’ve saved him. Saved Chuck and Winston. Ter-” “You can’t save everyone,” she cuts in, watching as he practically deflates and surrenders to her touch. A safe place to land no matter the distance he forced between them. “I know.” His gaze is fallen and avoidant - staring down at nothing in particular between the pair before roughened hands cup his face, thumb soothing along a stray drop of water on his cheek. “I see them all when I close my eyes. I still - I still feel Chuck’s blood on my hands, and every boy that came before him.” The sight of him is quick to blur as old wounds open, reminders of agony and mourning as the people she cared for slowly fade like a dying star. “For a while, I thought The Glade was built on the bodies of children. My family-” Thomas leans into her, foreheads pressed together with dirtied fingers laying over her touch. He hopes to absorb the hurt, letting it fill him up until her unsteady breaths begin to even out.

“For the first time in my life, Thomas, I want t’live. For all we’ve gone through. For all we’ve lost. If I can’t, then what was it all for?”

#the maze runner #tmr #thomas the maze runner #thomas tmr #thomas x oc #thomas x original character #thomas x original female character #thomas (tmr) x oc #thomas (the maze runner) x oc #newt #gally #the scorch trials #the death cure #the kill order #minho #dylan o'brien

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strawberry23487 · 1 year ago

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girls in the glade / soulmate au (but make it nasty)

warnings: br33d1ng, n0nc0n, v1ct1m blaming (im so sorry i have to spell them strangely so tumblr doesn’t shadow ban this blog)

every glader gets sent up a soulmate - or should i say fuck mate.

they arrive with a cloth over their mouths and a note - she wont be able to speak for a month, use it wisely. the girls can’t write for that matter either, or otherwise express themselves.

they’re just there, waiting to be fucked…

the more honorable of the boys vow to wait until their girl can speak or give consent another way. but they all give in before the 30 days run out in the end… after all isn’t a nice pair of tits just waiting to be groped? and if her pussy‘s soaking wet when fondled enough, doesn’t it mean she wants it anyway?

it sure does, says wicked, and happily watches their breeding plan succeed <3

#br33d1ng #n0nc0n #the maze runner #original female character #dead dove #dead dove do not eat

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athetos · 1 year ago

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Btw yes I saw the live action zelda news and yes I am pretending I didn’t

#maze runner director….?#look the books weren’t good so maybe he didn’t have much to work with #I’m terrified to know whether they’re going to do an original story or adapt one of the games #I’m hoping it’s an original story so they don’t tarnish the image of one of my favorites #probably original so they can give link more characters to interact with on his quest #like sidekicks that aren’t just navi or fi #zelda probably won’t be a damsel in distress either considering how they portrayed peach in Mario movie #if it IS based off a game I feel they’d want to go for breath of the wild just based off popularity/recency #I think that will make for an abysmal movie though #which leaves idk. either skyward sword or ocarina of time probably?#skyward sword probably the most cinematic and you can play up zelink romance #and link would feel connected to zelda as they knew each other for a long time #ocarina of time I don’t think the time travel gimmick would adapt well #p

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justinewt · 2 years ago

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Fall Into Despair - TMR REWRITE Chapter Eleven

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter

Summary: They were in the final stretch. The last fight to bring down WICKED had started and the city was going up in flames. Thomas, Minho, Gally, Newt and Grace had to be quick and get out of there before they ended up in the fire but reaching Brenda and their friends was no easy task. Grace was exhausted from everything she had been put through and this one last effort might end up being too much for her to handle.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: TMR Death cure spoilers, angst, mental torture, medical experiments, needles, restraints, violence, mention of suicide attempt, stabbing, blood, depression

With soldiers everywhere in the city, it was hard to go through it undetected. They had to crouch down and hide behind anything they could. Cars were blocking the street. The five of them took cover behind plants on the sidewalks. Grace and Newt were sat against the wall while Gally and Thomas peeked out, but they were stuck there.

“What are they waiting for?” Right Minho spoke, there was a huge explosion behind Thomas, making him jump and look around. A crowd came running and screaming while there was another explosion. Gally told them to get down. The soldiers started shooting at the people. They all lied down on top of each other. Grace held her hands to her ears when someone launched a rocket in the middle of the street. This was complete chaos, and they had to take this chance and run. Thomas and Minho grabbed Newt, Gally helped Grace with one arm, holding his gun with the other and they took advantage of the general mayhem around them to leave. In all the months that they had spent in this city, this was the first time she actually saw said city, and it had gone downhill.

Everything that was happening forced them to hide in a coffee shop whose front window had been blown up. Thomas used the radio to try to make contact with Brenda. The situation was becoming critical, and they were running out of time to help Newt, who was getting worse by the eye. To watch him deteriorate in front of her eyes was very difficult for Grace, especially after she was put through. She agreed to be used and tortured to make a fucking cure and she couldn’t give it to the one person that mattered. She saved a child but saving Newt was more important in her eyes because he was her friend. He didn’t deserve to end like this when there was an actual way of helping him. She would never forgive herself if he didn’t make it out of this city, alive. Grace didn’t even dare look at Newt. She stared at the fire outside the building, only turning her head towards her brother when she heard Brenda say something about “their ride”. Apparently, she was coming to them. Thomas looked at the four others with confusion on his face. He didn’t know what she was talking about either.

They resumed their journey, trying to move quickly through the city which was falling apart around them, to quickly find Brenda and the others. They had to arrive before it was too late for Newt, before he was too far gone. Thomas and Minho were once again helping Newt while Grace tried to walk on her own, one hand gripped onto Gally's shoulder who was leading the way, holding his gun in front of him, ready to fire if needed.

“All right. Newt, we’re almost there.” He said, looking at the three behind him. Mere seconds after he spoke, an explosion sent a burning car flying across the road. They all jumped, losing their balances. Grace got so startled she loosened her grip on Gally's bulletproof vest and almost fell but he had the reflex to catch her with his free hand. He told everyone to stay back as he ducked behind the wall, giving Grace his arm for support. A crowd of people ran down the road, yelling and holding their weapons up in the air or shooting at the soldiers ahead. They glanced at each other before looking up when they heard an engine hum in the sky. A helicarrier flew overhead.

“Okay, that’s them.” Thomas declared.

“Go without me, man. You should just…” Newt tried to argue when Minho and Thomas went to pick him up, coughing up black blood. He looked even more sick than before, wheezing and panting. Grace looked away, holding her arms softly. She sighed heavily but quietly, feeling her stomach starting to ache.

“Minho. You gotta run ahead, grab the serum, and get back as soon as you can. Minho, go.” The latter was obviously reluctant to leave them here.

“He’s right. I can cover.” Gally added before standing up and going to the corner of the street. Newt grabbed Minho’s arm, streaks of blood flowing from his mouth onto his chin, his eyes bloodshot.

“Thank you, Minho.”

“Hey, just hang on. You hear me?” After a second, he finally gets up and follows Gally. Grace stayed with Thomas and Newt since she would have greatly slowed them down in their quest for the serum to cure Newt. The serum made with the experiments conducted on Grace for months. If that bloody serum was going to save anyone, it was Newt. She didn't really care to know that a little girl had been healed thanks to her. Everything she had to endure had to be used for something, otherwise she could tell she was going to lose it. The guilt that would hang over her head for failing to save him would be too much for her to handle. She knew it. Thomas leaned towards Newt as his breathing quickened. Grace jumped when he raised his voice, trying to get his attention on him.

“We’re gonna try this, okay? We gotta move, now. Let’s get you up, come on. Let’s go, come on. Grace you can walk right—” He glanced at the latter while addressing her but turned his head back to Newt when he spoke up. She watched anxiously.

“No. No, Thomas.”

“No, Newt. Later. Later. Really gotta go.” Newt grunted as he snapped a necklace from his neck and handed it to Thomas as they argued. He yelled for Thomas to take whatever this was, breathing sharply. Grace noticed a small pendant capsule and it only took her a few seconds to realize that he had put something inside for them. The idea that he knew he was doomed and had written them something broke Grace's heart and she kept saying in her head that they had to succeed in saving him so that they would never need to discover what could be in this small capsule.

“Please. Please, Tommy. Please.” He begged, short-winded. Thomas eventually took it, exchanging a look with Grace and they were both equally worried about the outcome of this whole situation.

“All right. I need you to give me everything you got. Come on, ready? Here we go.” Newt grunted loudly as Thomas lifted him off the ground. Grace leaned on the wall Gally had seated her against and managed to get up. It was more complicated with no one to hold onto, but for once her legs weren't shaking so much that she collapsed to the ground. They were shaking and the steps she took following her brother were hesitant and jerky, as if she was a toddler taking their first steps, but she kept up with them. Watching Newt struggle in front of her was terribly nerve-wracking. They walked through the street, seeing bullets fly before their eyes. Thomas sometimes looked at his sister to make sure she wasn’t too far behind. He often called out to her, telling her to keep going. Knowing that she hadn’t walked that much in months, or even at all, it really was a miracle that she managed to do so.

They got to a deserted area, going through doors with panes broken into a thousand pieces. They were almost there but not quite, and time was soon to run out for Newt. Grace heard Newt gag and fall over. She staggered and stopped in her tracks, staring at them. Thomas caught him in his fall, toppling over. He crouched around him, grabbing his arm to carry him and drag him the rest of the way and seeing his face, Grace held back a sob, resuming her walk until her brother collapsed. She called his name in a low but piercing shriek. Still feeling that her body was tired and weak, she knew she couldn’t help in any capacity so she could only watch. She had never felt so useless in her life. He held out his palm to stop her from coming closer and the moment she came to a halt, she felt her legs go numb and fell to the ground.

“Grace—”

“I’m okay, it’s… okay. I—” They both raised their heads when they heard a voice call out to them through the speakers. It resonated all throughout the city. She was probably talking to them directly from WICKED labs.

“Can you hear me? I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to come back. Thomas, you can save Newt.” He stood up and glanced at Newt before turning back to where the voice came from. “There’s still time for him. There’s a reason Brenda isn’t sick anymore. It’s your blood. Yours, and Grace. She isn’t sick, because you cured her. She doesn’t have to be the only one. When we had Grace, we made a cure. An actual cure. It saved a little girl, Thomas. She had been infected for weeks, and Grace’s blood cured her. Do you understand? All you have to do is come back. And this will all finally be over.”

His back to her, he didn’t see Grace lean on her hands and push herself up on her feet. Teresa probably wanted him to come but Grace was ready to go back there if there was a guaranty Newt would be saved. Going back would mean death for her. If they took anymore of her blood, she wouldn’t wake up from the next medically induced coma they would put her in. The lights reflected off his glossy eyes. He saw Grace walk in his field of vision and turned his head, grabbing her shoulders to stop her.

“No.”

“Thomas...”

“Minho is bringing the cure. I won’t let them use you again.” His eyes moved anxiously over her face. Grace didn't say anything but when her head slowly turned to look at Newt, Thomas followed her gaze, letting go of her as they watched their friend get up on his own. There was a brief but heavy silence.

“Newt?” She called out to him, and Thomas held out his arm in front of her to make her step back. It felt like time was suspended, until he turned around, revealing his dark eyes and drooling mouth. Her brother barely had time to tell her to step back, Newt growled as he lunged at Thomas to attack him. Grace was pushed abruptly and grunted as she fell heavily on her arm, gasping in pain as she held her arm and rolled on her back. He shouted at her to stay away, asking if she was okay but all his focus was on Newt who was going berserk, throwing himself at Thomas. He fell, got back up and ran toward him. Grace watched them roll on the ground. Newt got on all four, panting and looked at Thomas, begging the latter to kill him.

“Newt, I’m here.” He took a few steps towards him, but Newt jumped on him, pushing him down, trying to bite him. Thomas struggled, crying out to him. Newt seemed to have a moment of clarity and he got calmer but only for an instant. He reached for Thomas’ thigh holster and brought the gun to his head. Thomas yelled and knocked the gun off his hand. It skidded on the ground and was stopped by Grace's leg. She pushed herself up into a sitting position but did nothing with the weapon. Newt let out a crank-like growl right Thomas’ face. Grace sobbed when he grabbed a knife from his belt and attacked him with it. Staring in fear and shock, she could only watch Newt try to stab her brother as he struggled against him, pinned down. She started crying, shouting for Newt to stop as Thomas screamed when the tip of the knife's blade digged through his skin, right above his heart. She knew her cries wouldn’t change anything and that he was driven to madness by the flare, but she felt so helpless watching them fight. Thomas kicked Newt’s back, pushing him away and punched him in the jaw. They got up. Newt swinged the knife around until he got close to Thomas, and they suddenly froze. Grace gasped, staring at them. Her heart pounding in her chest. Thomas had the same expression of utter shock on his face as he held Newt against him. Grace crawled and got on her feet. Thomas took a step back and she didn’t dare take a step closer. When she saw the knife in Newt’s chest, her stomach sank to her feet, making her feel like her guts literally dropped to the ground. A feeling of sickness washed over her, and she had a hard time standing up.

Thomas fell to his knees, calling out to him while Grace stood there, unable to take her eyes off his face. The silence that followed his calls was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She took a step forward and collapsed, bringing her trembling hand to his face, tears flowing down her eyes as she sobbed. She didn’t cry that badly when they were taken away from their mother. The realization that everything she put herself through to make this cure had been for nothing, she wailed. Grabbing onto Newt’s jacket, she let her head fall forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder which stifled her gut-wrenching cry interspersed with sobs. Her scream was so piercing that her throat was sore, but she didn't stop. Everything and everyone around her had stopped existing. She didn’t even realise her brother had walked away until she lifted her head to look at Newt and saw Minho and Siggy approach. Her scream became shaky as the weeping took over and she quietly stared at his dark eyes. They looked empty and blank. Minho and Siggy were on their knees, with Gally and Brenda in shock a few feet away.

Grace began to apologize to Newt, over and over and over again even though she was aware he couldn’t hear it, and that he wouldn’t respond to her words. She cupped his hand with hers. His body was still warm, but his hand was limp, and she just sobbed and kept saying how she was sorry and how this had all been for nothing. She had undergone all this torture for absolutely nothing and it was tearing her apart. She wished she could be gone, right there and then. She wished Janson had gotten what he wanted and emptied her of all the blood in her body so that she would be dead already. If she was dead, this pain and guilt that overwhelmed her would be gone altogether and she wouldn’t hurt anymore. She got quiet as her eyes looked at the knife in his chest. She didn’t care if it hurt for a moment. It would be just that. A moment and then she wouldn’t feel anything anymore. The reflection of her standing in front of this bathroom mirror, holding a gun to her temple flashed before her eyes. Her hand wrapped itself around the handle of the knife as she saw her index finger get on the trigger. She heard voices around her, but they were deafened. Her brother coming in the room to stop her. Her friends calling out to her. She could hear her and at the same time, she couldn’t. She wasn’t there anymore until she felt pain shot through her arm and she saw Minho’s hand holding her. She then realized that she had removed the knife from the body and although she saw Minho next to her, without looking at him directly, she still didn't let go of the knife.

“Grace. Let go off the knife. Please.” She stared at the knife; her face scrunched up as she began to cry again. It was only the second time in her life that she felt such bottomless despair, as if she was falling in a dark hole and she watched the light become smaller, with no way of coming back up and the only solution was to resign and let herself fall.

“It was all for nothing. I can’t— I can’t live with that… He died, and I couldn’t help him!” Her sobs were suddenly interrupted by her outburst of anger, and she shouted. She instantly felt regret for screaming in Minho's face, but it didn't compare to how remorseful she was for failing at helping save Newt.

“It’s not your fault, Grace.” His eyes were shining from the tears that filled them up a moment ago and his voice was tainted with sadness and grief, just like her. He obviously wanted to talk her out of doing something stupid. Maybe he thought he could, but Grace knew she wouldn’t let go off the knife unless it pierced her heart and somewhere deep down, she knew that none of the people here would let her go through with it, let alone Minho. Newt and Thomas' best friend, and a close friend of hers as well.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice got quiet as she stared at the knife again, already plotting something in her head. With tears in her eyes, rolling down her already wet cheeks, her voice trembled as she spoke, slowly tightening her grip over the handle. “They took my blood, for days on end… they made a fucking cure… and it still wasn’t enough to save the one person that needed it, so why does it matter?”

“You did all you could. That’s what matters.” He didn’t know what else to tell her, because she was right. Every single word she spoke was true and he couldn’t argue with her. Grace rested the knife on Newt's chest and maybe Minho thought she wasn't holding it anymore, so he let go off her arm and he went to help her get up but next thing he knew, she had drawn her hands close to her body and she froze in front of him. It felt like she had been hit with a hot iron. Minho screamed her name and caught her before she hit the ground. Siggy and Gally ran up and joined Minho around her. She was drawing sharp and quick breaths as her hands shyly letting go off the knife. Her eyes were wide as she watched the blood soak her tee-shirt, a red stain growing over her stomach. She quickly felt dizziness kick in and Gally held her head as it fell backwards while Minho applied pressure around the wound. Grace thought she would be successful in her attempt because they would have to leave at some point, or they would be stuck in a city going up in flames and it was oddly comforting. For some reason, she couldn’t think of her brother and how this would affect him. She could only think about her pain and guilt. Her body started feeling cold as her eyes closed and opened with difficulty. She was still crying but not continuously anymore. The pain from the wound, her arms and Newt’s death were all overlapping with each other, and she couldn’t make out anything. When she closed her eyes, the cold, the hurt, the exhaustion, the grief, everything went away.

It was her nightmare all over again, her falling in a dark water except that she couldn’t feel any water. Voices echoing around her, mingling in a sound that rocked her. Then suddenly, the silence became uncomfortable, and she opened her eyes. She stood in front of this mirror again. There was an infinite number of reflections spreading around her. As she turned around, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. There was a knife in her hand, dripping with blood. She looked up and every single of her reflection held a gun to their head. They were staring right at Grace with these dark, bloodshot eyes and their drooling mouth with this black blood falling down their chin, just like Newt. All together, they growled and fired.

Grace sat up in her bed, sweating and panting as she slung her legs over the bed. She had been tormented by these nightmares since the day Newt died. And since their arrival on this island where they had created a real Safe Haven with the members of the Right Arm and their friends who survived, she had not known peace. Every day she saw Newt, both smiling in the Glade and when he was turning. His face was always there, as if it was tattooed at the back of her eyeballs. Whether she closed them or not didn't matter. She was always seeing these memories of him, overlapping in her mind. And the guilt she felt since then was eating away at her and it was worse torture than what WICKED had ever put her through. Not a day went by without her wanting to see an end to this silent torture, but Thomas kept her close. They shared a shed in the Safe Haven. He was there for her, and so were Minho, Siggy, Gally and their everyone else, though not all of them knew about how she felt inside. Moonlight faintly illuminating the room, she glanced at her brother, sleeping in his bed. She stood up and quietly opened the door, her feet sinking in the sand as soon as she stepped outside. With one hand rubbing softly the scar on her stomach, she walked all the way to the memorial stone where they carved in the names of all who were dead. She looked at them. She didn’t carve Newt’s name, Minho did. She couldn’t bring herself to it because it would force her to accept his death. Thomas had added Teresa’s name too, but she didn’t look at that one too much.

She circled the large stone and walked on the beach, quickly feeling the sand become wet under her feet. When the tide washed over her ankles, she glanced down but kept walking, the bottom of her pants getting soaked as she advanced. She was staring at the horizon, her eyes riveted straight ahead. Newt had left Thomas a letter. That was what was in the small pendant capsule he gave him that day. A message of hope, asking to take care of the others that were left, telling him how he missed the sun rising over the Glade. She did too and she kept thinking about, incapable of moving on. She hadn’t been herself since he died, and she had only one solution to how to get rid of this grief and guilt. She hated how days passed and turned into weeks and months, pushing them further away from that day. She didn’t know if she would ever move on.

All she knew was that she wished she could see just one more time the sun rising over the Glade and join Newt in the garden and tend to the crops.

[The End…]

Previous Chapter

Published (03/07/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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scodelariolover · 2 months ago

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my maze runner oc again 👀👀 under the cut is lore stuff

her name is barbara jane or “mittens” as a nickname since she always wears gloves. WICKED figured out that cats are immune to the flare, so they started doing genetic experiments. she’s the only subject who survived them.

she’s in group A and annoying as fuck. but she’s a super good asset since she has stronger hearing, sight, etc. she always wears gloves so she doesn’t scratch anyone with her claws.

thank u for reading about my girl

#the maze runner #maze runner #digital art #art #fanart #tmr fandom #maze runner oc #barbara jane woods #half-cat #WCKD #original character #oc #controversy’s art

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key-to-the-shadow · 2 years ago

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The Angel ~ Chapter Two

Med-Jack Hut ~ Chapter Two (Newt X Female!OC)

❀ tropes: friends to lovers, found family, angst

❀: warnings: blood, guns, claustrophobia, trauma

❀: word count: over 2k

❀: a/n: my goal is to make your heart shatter while reading this so if you don't like crying this isn't for you, this is barely proofread so if you find mistakes, feel free to let me know

master list ❀ story playlists ❀ cast list

⇽ previous part || next part ⇾

Med-Jack Hut

The bright flashing lights in pitch-black darkness were the first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open. I scurried back and dug my hands into what felt like a crate beneath me. The pain digging into my palms did little to soothe the pain in my head and ears. A blaring siren accompanied the lights and I felt my stomach drop as the crate shook. I couldn't tell if I was screaming or not when I opened my mouth.

After what felt like five agonizing minutes, the crate finally crashed to a stop. Things began to crash all around me and I pulled my arms over my head protectively.

Where was I?

Who was I?

The chill on my cheeks from tears was the only thing that made sense. My breath shook with fear. I was locked in a box with seemingly no way out.

Suddenly, a large clank above me shattered the space. I flinched as a bright light shined down on me. It was blinding and I put my forearms up against it, trying to regain my sight.

Muffled voices were the only things I could make out. I couldn't tell what they were saying or how far away the voices were and I refused to move my arms from my eyes.

Out of the corner of my eyes, however, I saw something sitting beside me. I knew what it was but I didn't know how I knew.

As fast as I could my fingers fumbled with the pistol and I held it up. A simultaneous shout erupted from around me. I could start to see shadows of figures begin to form against the blinding light. They scurried away from me as I stood with the gun shaking in my hands.

"Who are you?" I screamed, hoarsely. My voice cracked with fear.

"Put it down," A voice said from behind me. Before I could turn around and shoot, the gun clattered to the ground and my arms were pinned behind me.

"Let me go!" I screamed, fighting against the hands that bound my wrists together.

"Not until you calm down," The deep voice responded. The sentence made me angrier but the more I fought, the tighter his grip go so eventually I slowed my breathing and stopped moving.

My vision returned as the blinding light shrunk into a little ball that hovered in the sky. Above me stood a large group of people, all boys, staring down at me and talking amongst themselves.

The fear returned but the boy's grip on me loosened. He reached down and grabbed the gun before I could reach for it again, throwing it up to one of the people above us.

The adrenaline had begun to dial down as well and my palms began to scream with pain. I looked down at them. Rhombus shapes were red and seared into my skin from where I held onto the crate.

"Come on," The boy said. I finally looked up at him. His black hair was cut close to his head and his face was tight with seriousness. "We can get those cleaned up for you," He motioned towards my hands. "You can trust us."

Somehow, I didn't believe him but it was either follow the boy who looked roughly the same age as you or stay in this crate. I nodded my head and allowed him to push me up out of the box.

"Get back," The boy's voice boomed as I stood up, wobbling a little bit. The rest of the boys separated as he held out his arm for me to hold onto if I needed. I denied the gesture, attempting to walk on my own.

My eyes widened as I looked around at the place I'd just been sent to. I had climbed out of one box to be trapped in another, larger, one. I looked around frantically but I didn't let my feet stop moving.

I didn't know why I was following him. Maybe it was the pain in my hands that overtook the rest of my senses and he promised he could help. Or maybe I was just foolish.

I followed him into a rickety-built shack with a thatched roof.

"Clint!" The voice roared.

"Alby?" A meeker but still strong voice responded from somewhere in the back of the shack.

A tall boy appeared in front of us. He pushed his curly brown hair away from his eyes. His blue eyes fell on me and they widened. He looked towards the boy that had been leading me around he called Alby.

"Yeah," Alby responded with a hint of confusion. "We don't know why." It seemed as though they were exchanging questions with their eyes. "We'll figure it out later. For now, she needs a few wounds cleaned."

Alby nudged me and I flipped my palms over toward the boy. His lips pulled back at the sight of them back he waved an arm and told me to follow him.

"Why don't I know my name?" I asked as we walked into the back of the building. This was the first moment I had to start asking questions.

"We don't know why. But you'll get your name back in a few days." The answer filled me with more questions but before I could voice them, he interrupted. "Take a seat on that bed."

He nodded his head to a small rectangular cot that had a single white pillow and a beige blanket. On the bed to the right, I saw a figure curled up under the blankets. His head was buried against the pillow as his breath rose and fell steadily. I wondered what he was here for.

The cot creaked as I sat down.

"I'm Clint, if you didn't already catch that," The brunette said as he kneeled in front of me. He took my left hand and gently flipped it over. "This might sting." He gave me a little warning before he put a warm towel on my palm. I sucked in a sharp breath as he dabbed away as much blood as he could. He repeated the process on my right hand before putting a white paste on both wounds, then winding it up with a thin cloth to keep it from getting infected.

"There," He said as he stood up. I mumbled a weak thanks. "No problem. Any luck remembering your name?"

I shook my head as I pushed myself to remember something. Anything. Who I was, where I came from, and my parents. My entire identity was gone. Did I ever have one?

He shrugged. "It was a long shot. Only one person here remembered their name within a few minutes. Alby." The boy was kind but I just couldn't find the motivation to respond to anything he was saying. He noticed and he sat down beside me on the scratchy blanket. "I know it's confusing right now but it does get better. It's like a small little family here."

"Where is here?" I asked with a sharp bit of hostility. I didn't mean for it to come out that way but it did.

"We call it the Glade. We grow and cook our own food, build our own shelters, and all that jazz."

"But why?"

He looked at me with a bit of sadness. "I'm not sure. But I do know it won't do you any good to think about it. We're here and that's that." I felt a small bit of pity for him. "We each do our part in the Glade. I'm a med-jack. We've got builders, track-hoes, slicers. You just kind of figure out what you're best at and you do it. We also have keepers of each of those jobs. They're kind of the boss of each role. I'm the keeper of the med-jacks."

I acknowledged him with a small hum of recognition.

We both looked up as the boy in the other bed stirred awake. A messy mop of sandy-blonde hair peeked up from the covers and a yawn escaped him.

"Oh hey, Newt," Clint said as he made his way to him. "How you feeling?" I looked at the boy and repeated the name in my head. Newt.

"Bloody awful," The boy responded. I was taken aback by the accent I wasn't expecting. Then he looked over at me. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me then looked at Clint. "Why Is there a g-"

"We don't know," Clint responded before Newt even asked the question.

Newt's brown eyes found me again. "I'm Newt," He introduces.

"Yeah, figures," I respond with that unwanted hostility again. I couldn't help it, though. I was scared. Confused. I didn't know where I was or who any of these people are. I felt misplaced being seemingly the only girl here.

He looks a little taken aback but still lets out a small laugh. When he swings his legs over the side of the bed, I realize why he's here. His right leg had thick bandages wrapping around the ankle but it seemed like it wasn't doing much. Blood dyed the off-white bandages a mixture of brown and dark crimson.

Clint seemed like he really knew what he was doing because of how neatly the bandages wrapped around the curve of his ankle up to his calf. A thin but sturdy plank of wood was wound into the bandages telling me that he must of either fractured or broken it. By the amount of blood and swelling, I'm guessing it's a break.

"It's okay," Newt's voice interrupts my thoughts. My face goes red, not meaning to stare at the wound. "It doesn't hurt as much as it did this morning."

"What happened?" I ask, wanting to take it back immediately. It wasn't my place to pry.

"I-" He stuttered for a second, unprepared for the question. "I like to visit the animals in the pins before everyone gets up. Guess a cow got fed up with me."

I looked down at his wound again. "A cow did that?"

"Mhm."

"It would be absolutely shattered if a cow stepped on yo-"

I was interrupted by a new voice walking into the room. Flinching a little bit, I turned to face the newcomer. "Well, that's what happened. I found him myself." The boy was wearing a blue shirt and brown leather straps across his chest. His arms were folded and seriousness was painted across his Asiatic features.

Before I open my mouth to bite back a response, I figured they knew better. Maybe the cow only slightly stepped on Newt's leg. The look of relief on Newt's face seemed strange but I would leave my curiosity unspoken.

"When will he be able to walk?" The new boy directed the question to Clint. A shadow of sorrow peeled over his face. "Leave," He now spoke to me. I raised my eyebrows defensively. "If there's bad news you shouldn't be here."

"It's alright, Minho," Newt spoke. "She would hear it anyway."

Minho shrugged, accepting it before turning back to Clint. Clint cleared his throat as Minho took a seat in a chair.

"You're going to have to use crutches for a few weeks before you should even attempt to put weight on that foot," He spoke to the boy who was nodding his head in understanding. "After that, it will probably take a few more weeks to get to the point where you'll be fine to walk without help."

A silence fell over everyone.

"What's the bad news?" Minho asks.

Clint took a sharp breath, looking down at his hands. "I don't think you'll be able to walk normally again." I watch Newt and Minho share a knowing look. "Much less run." I didn't understand why this is such a big deal but the defeat that fell across both of their faces made even me feel sore.

"It's alright," Newt's voice spoke up, avoiding any bit of sadness in his voice. "I'll find a new job. Maybe track-hoe?"

"We'll figure it out. I'm going to go help the boys get the rest of the crates out of the box," Minho spoke hurriedly, standing up from the chair and making his leave. I hear the door I came in shut harshly, shaking the walls.

"I'm sorry, Newt," Clint says. "Really, I am. If I could, I'd give you my own leg."

Newt laughs softly. "Thanks, Clint."

"Until then, here are the crutches." Clint holds out two wooden crutches and Newt takes them with slender fingers. "I had the builders make them the second Minho brought you in. Of course, don't get out of bed until you feel better."

"Got it, boss," Newt jokes. I admired his ability to keep a steady smile on his face through this. I didn't completely understand the weight of why not being able to properly run again was as heavy as it was but I knew that keeping a smile on was not easy.

"Alright Greenie," Clint shifts back to me.

"Greenie?"

"Oh yeah, that's just what we call everyone until they remember their name," Clint responds to me. "Anyway, I think you're good to go but I understand if you want to stay in here and rest until tonight. We're holding a bonfire, which is just to welcome the new Greenie. Plus, you're the first girl to ever come up in the box so the boys might be apprehensive till they get to know you."

"Yeah," I agree. "I'll just stay in here."

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