#tmwd1

[thominho-incorrectquotes]

Falling, We are Falling Now

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2022, Day 1 “Enemies to Lovers ”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

Rating: T

4619 words

Tags: Enemies to lovers, Soulmate AU, Fantasy AU, Angels/Demons AU, fallen angel!Thomas, demon!Minho

Summary:  Thomas is a fallen angel now. All he wants to do is find his friend Newt and Alby who had fallen from Heaven not long before he did. But he encounters a demon in a bar one night and everything he knew got shattered.

Note:  Thominho Week is here!!!!! I'm so excited and happy right now! I'm hoping you'll like all the fics I have prepared this year!

This fic had been a challenge! Even though I'm a big fan of fantasy, I never actually write a fantasy world I had to create, and that was basically the case here. And just as a heads up, this is purely fictional and has nothing to do with religion or anything, just my own creation.

Also, this fic was inspired by the song Revolution by Elias, so I suggest you go listen to it while reading this fic if you want to^^

You can also read it on AO3

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Falling

We are falling now

Words written down

They are falling now

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The Fall had been long and brutal. His wings had been torn apart during it, leaving him with big open wounds in an inverted V shape. He had been skinned by the air, by the time his body hit the ground, he was a bloody and bruised mess.

Of course, he was basically immortal and therefore, the Fall wasn’t meant to kill him. But it was supposed to punish him, along with the fact that he will now have to live forever on Earth. So he was hurting. Everywhere. It made him wish he hadn’t been born an angel and could die, just to take the pain away.

He didn’t know a long he stayed there, lying on the ground. Trees were surrounding him, creating a protective shell. No other living creature was nearby, and in this state, Thomas was glad he was alone.

He laid there until his body healed itself, trying not to cry.

______________________________

But the lies they will hurt you Hold on Human kindness desert you Hold on

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It had been months. Thomas had been trying to find his friend Newt and Alby for months now. They had fallen not long before he did, so they should not have been that far.

In the meantime, he had found a place to hide, a small but luxurious apartment in the city nearby where he had fallen.

It had taken a while, he first had to find clothes, and then he had gone to bars to gain a bit of money with bets and poker. He wasn’t proud to say he used his power in order to win—or even to fake having cash since Heaven doesn’t give you anything after the Fall—but the life of a fallen angel on Earth wasn’t easy and he had to do what he needed to do to protect himself.

He didn’t dare approach other fallen angels in the city. They were dangerous and hostile. Many had been on Earth for decades, some even for centuries, and their resentment was deep. Their hatred towards Heaven was even stronger and they wanted newly fallen angels to join them in this circle of loathing. It was almost a cult and Thomas wanted to stay away from it.

But the loneliness was following him everywhere, like darkness followed his every step. He wanted to get rid of it. He wanted to find the light again. He could only do it by finding his friends.

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Running with a crown on your head A resolution Written on your hands

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He entered the bar. It was one he had never been to. He tried to never go in the same ones too often, not wanting to get recognized.

Like all the other establishment that allowed illegal bets, this one was situated in a dark corner of the ill-famed district of the city. Thomas knew it was dangerous, but it was his only source of income as a fallen angel, and he knew his power would protect him. Still, a strange sensation crept on him the moment he stepped inside.

He made his way to the barman, hoping his instincts would take over if needed, and ordered a beer. Fallen angels couldn’t get drunk, but he had to play the part.

The bottle in hand, he went towards the pool table, where men in tattoos and leather vests were already betting on the winner. Some of them were already drunk, despite being still early in the night and the loud laughter and chatting were already ringing in his ears. This was such a pain in the ass.

But then he saw something he wished he would never have to encounter here.

A demon.

The creature, like every other demons, was beautiful. The most beautiful living being there was. Because beauty was a means to corrupt. To manipulate.

He had pitch black hair, cut short and standing upwards. His jaw was sharp, well defined, like every other lines of his body. The shirt he was wearing was struggling to stay in one piece; his chest and arms were stretching the fabric to its limits. And his eyes were the darkest he has ever seen.

Obviously, the humans around didn’t know there was an evil creature next to them. Only angels and other demons were able to identify if someone was a demon or an angel. They could always feel it.

The demon was at the pool table, a glass of liquor in his hand. A smirk was drawn on his face, and just by his presence—and probably his power—he was owning the place. Guys were afraid of him, but still worshipping him and girls were drooling just looking at him. And by the way people talked to him, he was in all likelihood a regular here. Maybe this place belonged to him even, as demons were often in illicit affairs on Earth.

It was dangerous. Demons were even worse than fallen angel. Demons were fallen angels who got corrupted. Because, don’t get it wrong, fallen angels were still angels. They only got kicked out of heaven because they broke one of the Rules. That’s why Thomas was here now. Because he was opposed to these Rules.

But demons… Those were angels who felt into the darkness. Angels who let their hatred and selfishness take over.

And they were powerful. Very powerful.

So Thomas should have gone away. He should have left this bar.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the demon’s attraction power or his angel side who wanted to confront the creature, but his next step led him in front of the demon, on the other side of the pool table.

Like he expected, the demon looked at him. Immediately, Thomas could see in his eyes that he knew what kind of being Thomas was. The smirk on his face only grew and, as if possible, his eyes got even darker.

“What’s up angel, wanna play too?” the demon teased. Thomas was thrown aback by the nickname, not expecting the creature to reveal to human beings his true nature, but everyone around him laughed. Thomas understood it was only meant to taunt him. Irritation began to crawl inside him, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Whatever game the demon was playing, Thomas wouldn’t let him.

“Only if it’s against you,” he replied. Laughs and “ooooh’s” followed his comments.

“You’ll have to pay, I don’t play unless there’s money involved.” The creature’s smirk only grew even more as he watched Thomas taking out few bills from his pocket and putting it in the betting stash one guy was holding.

“Not a problem for me,” he retorted, defying the demon with his eyes.

The people around them cheered and the pool table was getting prepared as the creature pulled money from his pocket to join what Thomas had already given.

He knew it was a bad idea. He’s been making money with all those bets because he cheated with his power. And the demon probably did the same. He could lose so much by doing this. Even getting close to a demon was dangerous, but there he was, defying one. What was wrong with him?

“Choose your weapon,” one guy said beside him, offering him few pool cue to choose from. The man smelled like alcohol and was looking at Thomas in amusement, as if he already knew who the winner was. And it apparently wasn’t Thomas in his opinion.

“Do you need me to teach you how to play, angel?” the demon snarked, causing more laughter from people in the bar.

“No, I’m good, but you should teach me how to you manage to breathe in that shirt,” he nagged back, using sarcasm. “You sure you don’t wanna use that money to buy a shirt that’s actually your size?”

Thomas couldn’t understand what was going on inside of him. Yes, he’s always been sarcastic, that was actually something that annoyed Newt a lot, but he’s never been prone to seek danger, and angering a demon was very dangerous.

But surprisingly, the demon only laughed, alongside everyone.

“If you’re trying to say I look sexy, just say so,” he casually replied, his smirk replaced by a flirty grin.

Something shifted in Thomas’s stomach. And it was disturbing since he didn’t know if it was disgust or arousal.

___________________________

And the lies they will hurt you No more Human kindness desert you No more

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Unsurprisingly, it was a pretty tight game. Like Thomas expected, the demon was cheating. He couldn’t blame him, he was doing the same, and also they couldn’t obviously cheat, or call it out, without exposing themselves to the humans.

And the fact that the demon loved brushing his body against Thomas’s whenever he was moving to get in position was not helping. The demon’s body was warm and, obviously, muscled. And he was blatantly doing it on purpose. Thomas didn’t know if it were because the creature was flirting with him—it wouldn’t be so weird, demons were known to seduce people, even angels and fallen angels, to corrupt them—or just to annoy him and start a fight—that was also possible, demons loved to fight, and fallen angels were perfect nemesis.

But what Thomas hated the most from being this close to the demons was that he kind of felt drawn to him. Whenever they touched “accidentally,” his own body wanted to get closer, to let itself be embraced by those arms. His mind, however, was furiously against it.

“So, angel, you must have a name?” the demon asked while bending over the table to line up his shot. “Or do you prefer I just keep calling you angel?”

Thomas refrained from growling. He hated demons so much, this one in particular.

“My name’s Thomas,” he replied. “What about you? Is it Asshole?”

Two could play this game.

But the smirk came back. “It’s actually Minho, but you can call me babe.” We winked at him, and like every time the demon said something, everyone around him laughed. Thomas was getting more and more annoyed as the time passed by. He just wanted to get over it.

As the game progressed, more and more people bet on the winner and Minho even suggested they each offered more, since it was getting interesting. Thomas couldn��t back away now, he really needed that money. Why was Earth controlled by money anyway?

He needed that money to find his friends, alongside protecting himself. Not so long ago, he found a fallen angled community specialized in finding the fallen angels we used to be friends with before the Fall. Thomas wasn’t the only one in this situation apparently. However, he needed money to get this service. Also, he now had rent to pay, and humans’ jobs weren’t fit for fallen angels.

But the demon wasn’t going easy on him.

There was now only the black ball to get into one of the pockets for either of them.

“Right corner,” Thomas called. He had his line, and if everything went according to plan, he would win. He poured magic into the black ball in order to stop Minho from interfering with it.

He was sure he would win, making the demon finally shut his mouth.

He taped the cue ball and, like he expected, it hit the black on, pushing it into the right corner pocket. And, as calculated, the cue ball stopped before pocketing. He was the winner.

He was about to turn towards the demon with a smirk of his own, when he saw the cue ball moving on its own, before entering the pocket too.

He lost.

In his determination to win, he was sure the demon was going to stop the black ball from entering. He never expected him to influence the cue ball.

He turned towards him, anger making him forget where he was.

“You fucking cheated,” he said.

“Oh yeah? How?” Minho laughed. “I wasn’t even close to it. Too bad you’re not skilled enough, but that’s on you, angel.”

“You fucking liar!”

“What are you gonna do about it? You have proof maybe? Now, let me go get my cash.”

But Thomas was having none of it. He finally snapped.

Using the pool cue as a bat, he swung it at Minho’s head.

But before it could make contact with the demon’s pretty face, it was stopped by magic. He, at first, thought it was another trick from the creature, but seeing confusion on his face too, he knew something wasn’t right.

People around them started laughing again. “What man, you can’t even properly fight?” one dude said.

Minho moved towards the cash, a dark expression on his face. Thomas wanted to hit again, but something was preventing him from doing so.

The demon took the money and turned towards Thomas. “Let’s take it outside.”

He was too shock to disagree and before he knew it, they were both outside. Nobody followed them, probably the demon’s doing. It’s only when he realized they were in the dark alley leading to the bar that he came back to his sense.

“What are you doing!?” he said, breaking free from Minho’s grasp. “What’s going on!? Did you stop me from hitting you?”

The demon turned to face him. To Thomas’s surprise, the smirk was gone.

“No, I didn’t. I don’t mind a good fight, especially with a fallen angel,” he replied. Even his tone was dark, the flirtiness and sarcasm apparently no longer there.

“Then what—"

“Not here," he interrupted. “This is not the place to have this kind of conversation.”

Before Thomas could do anything, Minho had taken him by the waist and big black wings, similar to bats’ ones, appeared on his back. And with one sweep of the wings, they were in the air.

The creature clearly had a destination in mind. Thomas wanted to freak out. He was being kidnapped. But the feeling of finally being in the air again took over him.

He could feel the wind on his face again. His legs felt light for the first time ever since the fall. Flying was the one thing he missed the most since he lost his wings. Because flying was freedom.

To say he finally could fly again because of a demon…

The trip was short, however, and before Thomas could start panicking again by the thoughts that the demon had basically kidnapped him, Minho stepped them down on the roof of a building.

Once his feet touched the ground, Thomas pushed the demon away, even though a part of him he wanted to ignore craved the warm of the other body.

“What is your problem!?” Thomas snapped, tired of being humiliated by this creature once again. Being teased back in the bar, and now being treated as a rag doll, what was next?

“Hit me,” Minho asked, not acknowledging Thomas’s question.

“Wh-what?” Thomas was thrown aback. Why would the demon ask such thing?

“I want you to really want to hurt me, and hit me,” he repeated.

“Okay, you asked for it.” After all, who was he to refuse hurting a demon? He maybe was a fallen angled now, but demons were still his enemies.

He swung at the creature, expecting his fist to make contact with Minho’s pretty face.

It didn’t.

Like earlier, his fist was stopped mid-air by magic.

And now that his mind was clearer, he could feel that this magic was not demonic. It was actually beautiful and comfortable. It felt like a soft and warm blanket all over him. This magic was pure. And It wasn’t the demon’s magic.

Realization hit him.

“Fuck.”

That was the only word he could say, that he could think. Fuck.

He was speechless.

Because Minho, the demon in front of him, was his soulmate.

Yeah, soulmates were real. Humans weren’t really aware of it, for them it was more speculation and wishing, but they didn’t know all the details. Like how soulmates were not necessarily romantic. How soulmates had an unbreakable bond. How everyone, angels and demons included, had soulmates, sometimes more than one. And most importantly in this case, how it was impossible for soulmates to hurt each other.

But angels and demons knew that. They knew all those things.

And of all people, Thomas’s soulmate was a demon. This was even worse than the Fall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated. Tears began to form at his eyes. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Thomas…”

This was the first time the demon called him by his name. His heart clenched in his chest.

“No, no, it’s not possible. An angel and a demon can’t be soulmates, you know that,” Thomas tried to argue.

“You know that’s not true,” Minho countered back. “Demons were fallen angels before, so even if they are enemies now, there’s still a probability that an angel and a demon could be soulmates.”

“But you know what they said! That if it were to happen, Heaven and Hell would be changed forever!”

Did Minho not understand what this could imply? Now that an angel—or fallen angel in this case—found his soulmate, who is a demon, the world would change and never be the same. And from what he’s been told, it wasn’t a good thing. Because change could be bad.

“And what’s so wrong about it?” Minho objected. “You, as of all being, should be aware of how cruel Heaven actually is.”

“As if a demon have a say in what is cruel or not,” Thomas retorted.

“Why did you fall?” He once again ignored Thomas’s comment.

“Why should I tell you?” Irritation tainted his every word now.

The demon started to approach him, and, by reflex, Thomas flinched back.

“Please Thomas, you know I won’t do anything to you.”

Yes, he knew that, because Minho couldn’t hurt him. But he was still a demon.

He looked at him again, in his entirety. His shirt was still two sizes too small, but now, wide black wings were now on his black, along with a long tail of the same colour with a pointy tip. He also had dark horns on his head.

Despite his hatred towards demons, Thomas couldn’t help but think that the one in front of him looked attractive. Maybe it was just demons’ natural beauty, or because he was his soulmate, but yeah, he really was gorgeous.

Minho took a step forward and seeing that Thomas didn’t react, continued to get closer until he was in front of him. He could feel the warm from the demon’s body and the urge to get close to it came back. He looked up, to stare at the dark eyes.

He only saw softness and adoration.

He was speechless. How could such an evil creature showcase so much care for someone he just met?

Hypnotized by the demon’s eyes, Thomas let him carefully put his hands on his face. The gesture was so gentle and made his stomach fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful,” Minho said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve waited for you for so long.”

To say that Thomas was shocked by those words was an understatement.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

The demon smiled, and for the first time since Thomas knew him, it wasn’t a smirk or a grin. It was a genuine smile. And if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he didn’t know what it was.

“Because I always wanted to find my soulmate,” he explained. “I’ve been a demon for so long, and I have my people around me, we call ourselves the Gladers. But I’m not close to them as much as I want to. Like I’ve always been waiting for someone special. I thought this special someone could be my soulmate.”

That was … surprisingly sweet, for a demon.

“I guess this wasn’t the image you had of demons, right?” Minho joked when he saw Thomas’s confused expression.

“Indeed…”

“We are not evil. We are complex, like humans are. Hell, even angels are, but Heaven doesn’t allow them to be themselves, only how it wants them to be. Why do you think so many angels fall?”

Minho slowly started to caress Thomas’s cheek with his thumb. That’s when he noticed something on the fallen angel’s neck.

A silver chain.

“You were an archangel…”

Thomas looked down in shame. “Yes.”

“Why did you fall?” he asked again, with a soft voice, which prompted Thomas to answer him this time.

“Because I was against what Heaven did to my friends.” Why did he feel like he could tell Minho everything? Why did it feel so good to be touched by him? Without thinking, he took the demon’s other hand in his. “My friends, Alby and Newt, were two angels, like me. They are soulmates. It’s not forbidden by Heaven, to have another angel as a soulmate, since we don’t have a say in it. But they want to keep angels pureness, so we aren’t allowed to fall in love. But they did anyway. Their Fall happened after they first kissed. I was opposed to it, but it happened. They were my closest friends.”

He was getting teary eyed by talking about it. He missed them so much and what happened to them was cruel. Maybe Minho wasn’t so wrong after all.

“What happened next?” The demon wasn’t pressuring him, and his presence was comforting. The hand on Thomas’s cheek was still delicately touching him.

“I requested that they get their wings back. That angels should be able to love too.”

“And they kicked you out of Heaven too…” he finished for him. The fallen angel nodded. “I’m sorry Thomas, but see? That’s what I’m saying. Things need to change.”

“But how could you be so sure of that? Things could go so wrong! Heaven is there to protect the balance of the universe! If it changes, the world could go in flames!” Thomas argued, irritation coming back. “Bet you’ll like that!”

“That’s not what we want Thomas. We only want this fight between light and darkness to stop. The world, and beings, aren’t black or white Thomas. We all have good and bad in us. We are all complex, much more than just ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ This fight Heaven has with Hell is exactly why the world is unbalanced.”

That was going against everything Thomas has ever been taught. It was messing with his mind and thoughts.

“But…”

Minho took the fallen angel’s face with both hands, forcing him to look at him.

“You’ve fallen, but you’re still holding on to Heaven. Let it go, angel, let it go. The world has to change, but Heaven refuses it does because it only wants power. Heaven betrayed you, angel. It betrayed your friends. What is so wrong about love? What is so wrong about emotions? What is so wrong about being ourselves? Just let it go Thomas.”

Why did everything Minho said made sense?

“Let it go Thomas,” he repeated. “Follow your heart.”

Why did he want to believe the demon so much? Was the demon using his power on him?

But, as an ex-archangel, Thomas would have known if the demon had been doing so, if he had not been telling the truth.

Staring at Minho’s beautiful face once again, he stopped his gaze at the plum lips. He wanted to let go. He wanted to feel something. He wanted, craved, the demon’s contact so much.

“If you want to kiss me, I won’t stop you,” Minho said, noticing where the angel was looking.

Thomas wanted to resist. Kissing a demon was wrong. But why did the feeling in his guts wouldn’t go away? That feeling that told him to just put his lips again Minho’s. To let it go.

And so Thomas did. He pressed his lips against the creature’s. He let go. He was free.

This was nothing like he imagined it would feel.

The kiss was soft and gentle. Like the rest of Minho’s body, his lips were warm, as if a flame was burning inside of his body. Adoration filled every movement.

Thomas couldn’t help but think how weird this whole thing was. Only an hour ago, he encountered a demon, and now, he was kissing him. Delicately. Sucking lightly on his upper lips. And the demon was reciprocating. Minho was slow, as if any movement could scare off his soulmate. He let Thomas take control of everything, let him explore this thing they had.

Thomas couldn’t believe he was doing this. Kissing a demon. His nemesis.

But why did it feel so right? Why did the butterfly in his stomach couldn’t stop fluttering? Why did his lips never wanted to let go?

Was it how it was, to have a soulmate? If so, Thomas understood why Newt and Alby risked being kicked out of Heaven for this.

Tentatively, he put his arms around Minho’s waist, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. When their chest collided, he knew that this was right. That he couldn’t live without this now that he had a taste. His whole body felt like it was on fire. When Minho circled his arms around Thomas, pressing their body together, the angel let out a small moan of pleasure.

When their lips parted, they were still holding each other.

Thomas was smiling. Maybe change wasn’t so bad. Minho was right. What was so wrong about this?

Things had gone so fast between them, but who cared?

______________________________

Let’s start a revolution How beautiful It is The city’s on fire but it’s beautiful Revolution The city’s on fire, won’t you burn it all? Revolution

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Falling. He was falling again. He was falling in love.

One month ago, he met his soulmate. A demon. But Minho was the sweetest. Sure, he was sarcastic and liked fighting. He had a darker side. But so did Thomas.

Minho had been right. Everyone was good and bad. This fight between light and darkness had to stop. He met the Gladers, Minho’s community. To his surprise, it was composed of both demons and fallen angels. Chuck, Frypan, Gally, Zart, all of them, they wanted what was best for the world. His whole perspective was changed.

And together, they were an unstoppable duo. Heaven wasn’t happy with their relationship, but they hold on. As if it could stop them.

They were always together. They shared Thomas’s apartment, since it was more hidden and discreet. They made money with bets and gambling. With both their powers, it was so easy. They made love. Often. Thomas loved when Minho was holding him or kissing him, especially when his wings enveloped him.

The world was changing. They could feel it. Angels in Heaven were starting to question things. Demons wanted peace more and more.

Thomas still had to find his friends.

“You sure we’ll find them?” he asked Minho one night. They were lying in bed, only a satin sheet covering their naked bodies. The demon’s tail was wrapped around Thomas’s hips and one of his thighs, holding him close to Minho, and the black wings offered shelter.

“Yes, of course,” his soulmate, now boyfriend, immediately replied. “We will.”

“And the world will change for the better?” Thomas had never let himself be this vulnerable around someone before. And it was scary to do so with Minho, but it felt right. His lover was always comforting and never judged him,

“Yes angel, it will.”

________________________

Let’s start a revolution How beautiful It is

[71l3]

It's okay

For Thominho Week Day 1, Alternate "What if Thomas went deaf from the storm"

Characters: Thomas, Minho, Newt, Frypan

Rating: T

1268 words

Tags: Deaf AU(?), What if, Panic attack(s)

Summary: Neither have time to think before the world goes quiet and their vision goes black. Thomas passes out feeling oddly warm and uncomfortable.

A/N: GUYS. GUYS, IT'S THOMINHO WEEK IT'S HERE!!! Anyways I wrote this like, a day or two ago and I hope you like this thing!!!

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The rumbling of the lightning storm, the rumbling of Minho’s voice as he attempted to speak over the storm. They had been marching through this madness for who knows how long, but it was a nice change from the earlier near unbearable heat. Though, he could tell that a few of the Gladers would much rather prefer the heat over this. He looks to his left, where Minho is, then to his right. He hears a loud rumble of lightning, and he briefly whips his head around to look. There, lay the body of someone whom he didn’t know. And by the look on Minho’s face, he also didn’t know who that was. He feels a horrible twinge of regret.

And yet, he continues walking, yelling over the storm for them to go faster. He and Minho pick up their pace, keeping a close eye on Newt who follows with no difficulties. The others speed up as well, Frypan and Winston pant with exhaustion, but they continue to push forward. Up ahead, he can just barely make out the figure of a building. He gives an odd sigh of relief, the smile dropping from his face when he hears a crash of thunder to his left. 

He whips around at neck-breaking speeds, nearly coming to a stop when he sees the nearly unrecognizable corpse of Winston, fried alive by the lightning. Thomas bites his lip, turning around and pushing himself forward. “UP AHEAD THERE’S A BUILDING! WE’LL TAKE SHELTER THERE!” He hears a few grunts of confirmation, and soon they shoot off, ignoring the other five strikes of lightning and thunder alike.

That is— until he hears another crash on his left, he hears the familiar pattern of footsteps stop abruptly. He doesn’t think before turning violently and reaching his arm out toward Minho who’s looking up at the lightning bolt with fear and oddly— fascination. Neither have time to think before the world goes quiet and their vision goes black. Thomas passes out feeling oddly warm and uncomfortable.

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It’s quiet. That’s the first thing he notices when his eyes crack open. He can see the rain continuing to rage outside, he can see it crash onto the weak glass windows. A few of the Gladers flinch at what he assumes is the loud noise. He shakes his head, wincing when he feels a shock. Does he have water in his ears? What happened? He attempts to reach a hand up to rub his eyes, but instead of feeling the soft skin of his face, he feels the rough material of something. He furrows his eyebrows, looking around for Newt or—

His eyes (does he really have both of them?) widen, and he begins to search every inch of the wide space over. That is, until he notices the pressure near his feet. He looks down, seeing a decently busted-up Minho. He smiles, sighing (did he sigh? He can’t hear it..) in relief. Suddenly, Newt is in his face, donning a concerned expression as his mouth moves. Thomas purses his mouth, leaning back in shock. He opens his mouth a bit, having no clue if he can even speak when he’s unable to hear it. But, he eventually gives it a try.

He can’t hear anything, if he did speak, but from the surprised expression on Newt’s face, he can bet that he did say something. (Did he say what he wanted to say? Does he no longer have control of his mouth, or of what he says?) Newt’s mouth begins moving again, before stopping. He stands up straight, looking around while tapping his foot. Thomas’ fear increases, he can’t hear that either. His eyes dart toward two Gladers talking to each other, their mouths moving in quick succession. He pales, just as Newt bends down again and points a finger toward his own ear, tapping it once or twice before making an X with his fingers. Thomas looks at him in confusion for a few moments before raising his eyebrows and nodding slowly. 

Newt clenches his fist, his shoulders dropping as he turns his head, his mouth beginning to move again. Presumably, calling someone over. A moment or two later, Frypan comes into his line of sight, plopping down next to Newt. He looks between the two of them as they start talking, their mouths moving quickly as they form words. His aching arms slowly move to cross over one another, he allows fear to spread over him, while scolding himself for being fearful.

Did he lose his hearing? Is this it for him? Will they leave him to die when they realize he can’t do anything anymore, he can’t even control his own words? He only pales further at his own thoughts, tears welling up in his eyes. He looks back at Frypan and Newt. Their mouths are still moving, they're still talking; is he invisible now? Can no one see him? He swipes his feet from the pressure that was above them, circling his arms around his knees. He shrinks lower, they’ve stopped talking now, they’re staring at him. 

Did he say something? What did he do? Was this his fault? He takes in a deep, shuttering breath just as Minho’s previously motionless form begins to shift. He freezes, stopping his breathing as he stares at him. He would hate him as well. He’s failed everyone, this time. No one can hear him, he can’t hear them, they might as well be unable to see him too, if they can’t communicate verbally. 

His throat feels clogged, swelling with the quiet words he wants to say, but he can’t find it in himself to talk as Minho sluggishly sits himself up, staring sleepily at Thomas before blinking a few times. He moves his mouth, a small smile on his face. Thomas’ whole world suddenly shatters. He would never hear his voice again, he would never hear any of their voices again. And with that, the tears start pouring down, released from their prison as they fall in thick streams, Minho staring at him in confusion. Newt gives him a look of sympathy, bowing his head only slightly as his mouth begins to move. Panic spikes inside of Thomas when he realizes this. So, he does the only thing that he can think to do.

He lets out his best attempt at a scream of ‘NO!’ and by the looks on their faces, it seems to have worked, that is what he thinks, until he feels his throat clench up and an odd warm liquid on his chin. Gingerly, he taps two of his fingers on his chin before pulling them away to observe the odd liquid. He can see Frypan make a small move to stop him before presumably sighing. He looks down at his two fingers, his eyes widening by a fraction when he sees a rich red liquid— his blood. He stares at it with eyes that are widening by the second, he’s only stopped when he feels an arm wrapping around his chest, gently pulling him into their loose hold. 

Thomas fights against the welcoming hold, his teeth gritted as tears continue to race down his face like raindrops on a car window. Eventually, the person grabs his face, turning it to stare at— he and Minho stare at each other, Thomas’ expression slowly softening with his eyes as they well up with gentle tears. He can see Minho smile at him, carefully wrapping his arms around Thomas once more as he gingerly takes Thomas’ wrist, writing letters over the faint self-inflicted scars.

It’s okay

[itsthemxze]

Thominho week day 1 - "Enemies to Lovers"

Rating - Not rated

Summary - Minho was feeling something. He wasn’t sure what, but he was feeling something. These shucking greenies always think they know best. He’d been talking to Newt over dinner the night before and heard all about the greenie’s questions and suggestions, as if they haven’t tried everything already. As if they haven’t been living this hell for years before this kid showed up.

Canon compliant/in the maze 💕

[mazegays]

(I'm on mobile, so I can't post as I usually do. sorry!)

[dahliia04]

for @thominho-week2022 , running with no destination!

[izcana]

Chills Down Your Spine

Thominho Week (Day 1): “Night”

***

All of Thomas' favourite 5 memories took place in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ #1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas had his head resting on the picnic blanket, and they were watching the stars.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Minho's low voice said, and Thomas shivered. "I used to do it when I was a kid."

"Yeah," Thomas agreed, smiling as he curled up unconsciously to the warmth Minho radiated. The stars were truly beautiful. "I agree."

The two laid on the blanket for a bit, their legs tangling with each other. It was normal for them to cuddle like this, per see, especially during the autumn. Thomas was especially sensitive to cold, hence why he had brought a thick quilt and worn three jumpers whereas Minho was only wearing a thin parka, and he still managed to radiate heat like a furnace. How he managed this Thomas had no idea, but he did.

Minho wrapped an arm around Thomas' lean frame, and it felt like coming home. Being great friends, they were very familiar with each other's habits, and Minho knew that Thomas would get cold. Thomas snuggled into the muscular arm of his best friend, and he knew he shouldn't be admiring how those biceps flexed under his neck. He shouldn't be mesmerised at how the dim light and smudged charcoal-like shadows dance on the surface of Minho's bronze skin.

The person admiring that should have been Minho's significant other. As much as Thomas wanted to be that person, he would never be. He would forever be Minho's loyal best friend, watching Minho date many other people, people a hundred times better than him. More beautiful. Smarter, sassier, more to Minho's taste. Thomas would never get to be that person.

The most Thomas would get is a place at Minho's side during the wedding, as his best man if he was lucky, but Minho would've probably moved on by then. Maybe he would've found another best friend, one cooler, funnier, more interesting than him. Would he ever receive an invitation to the wedding?

No, he told himself. Minho may not like you that way, but he would never give up the friendship. Never.

After all, no one knew Thomas better than Minho, and vice versa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ #2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Happy birthday, Tom!" Teresa squealed, handing the aforementioned boy the present that was wrapped with a bright red bow.

Thomas took the present with a bright smile. His neon birthday-boy hat bounced on his head as he pounced on Teresa and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you, thank you!" He squealed. If it was Minho, he would've been happy to receive Thomas as a birthday present, wrapped in a bow and everything. Minho might've been jealous of Teresa if he didn't know better; from an outsider's perspective, it did appear that Teresa was Thomas' girlfriend.

Minho remembered on the first day of high school when he thought the same thing.

"Hey, Greenie, " he said, grinning at the Greenie who peered up at his shoes shyly. Ooh, a pretty one, Minho thought.

"Hi," the kid who looked younger than him said, sending him a small smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Ya know," Minho added, because he was an annoying person, okay? "You usually say your name first, and then say 'nice to meet you'." Newt would've smacked him if he'd heard Minho "treat the Greenies like that", again. Honestly, Minho didn't see it as a big deal, but when you're a Greenie...well, he supposed it might be a bit scary to be faced off with Minho's sarcasm on your first day of school. The last Greenie, a 9th grader, "klunked in his trousers", as Newt described it.

Not this Greenie, though. He seemed to get Minho's sense of humour. "I'm Thomas," he said, his plush lips curving into a bemused smile. "Nice to meet you. Happy?"

"Very," Minho grinned. "I'm Minho."

"You forgot to say 'nice to meet you'," Thomas giggled. Minho hadn't gotten enough of that giggle, ever since.

"Nice to meet you, happy?" Minho mimicked with a squeaky voice.

"I gue –––" Before he could continue the word, he was interrupted by a pretty girl with black hair and blue eyes.

"Gosh, Tom!" She complained. "This is nothing like how Brenda said 'normal' high school was going to go!"

"Don't remind me, Tess," Thomas grinned. Minho had expected him to start snogging the girl right there. "This is my sister, Teresa," he continued. Or...not

Minho only stood there dumbly as he processed the information. Thomas...sister...Teresa? He was going to introduce himself wittily, but what came out instead was a sigh of: "You have the same nose."

Thomas laughed, throwing his neck back. Minho feasted hungrily upon the pale flesh that was dotted with moles that were scattered bizarrely on his neck.

Minho had paid attention in astronomy class ever since that day.

"How did you know I broke the last mug?" Thomas asked, tearing the paper frantically.

It was actually Minho who told Teresa about the broken mug. Thomas had looked so heartbroken about it, Minho had to get him a new mug. But, since he already had the perfect present planned, he couldn't be the one to wrap it in paper and tie a delicate bow around it in Thomas' favourite colour, grass green.

Thomas' heart broke over the silliest things, but that was why Minho loved him.

"Shooting star!" Thomas squealed. "Make a wish!"

I wish I can have Thomas forever, Minho thought, and when Thomas asked with his adorable puppy eyes, he replied: "If I told you, it wouldn't come true."

~~~~~~~~~~~~ #3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Minho?" Thomas said, blinking owlishly. "Can I sleep with you?" The innocent way he said those words almost made Minho choke. "It's cold tonight."

Oh. Oh. Leave Minho to make a big deal out of nothing. "I thought you were going to ask to get laid."

Thomas snickered. "Why would I ask? I could totally get laid!" He could, but Minho didn't tell him that.

"Sure, shank," Minho said instead. "Totally."

Thomas, not waiting for Minho's response, positioned himself in the middle of Minho's bed. The little slinthead..."Some room for me?" Minho said sarcastically, raising a bushy brow at the scene on the bed. "It's my bed?"

"It's mine now," Thomas declared, making a snow angel motion with his arms. His head was in a cute but genuine bird's nest on top of his head, and his cheeks had a bright flush that Minho wanted to kiss. "I've set the flag first."

Great. He would be cuddling with Thomas tonight, then.

Minho lifted Thomas and threw him unceremoniously onto the other side of the bed. "Move over, you shank."

Thomas groaned, already looking fast asleep. Minho squeezed onto the left side of his queen-sized bed and turned them both over to face the window. The window was on, and from there, the moonlight illuminated Thomas' bright, pale skin that was dotted with beauty marks, like pepper scattered onto a white sheet of paper.

"Thanks, Min," Thomas slurred from the depths of sleep, turning to face the window as well. This new position conveniently let Minho spoon Thomas, and for Thomas to wiggle himself into the curve between Minho's thighs and stomach, but neither were complaining about that. "Good night."

"Night, shank," Minho returned, and let himself fall asleep to the smell of Thomas' strawberry shampoo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ #4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Seriously, Minho?" Thomas groaned. "You didn't ask Sonya out? What is wrong with you?" For over a year, Thomas had been trying to set Minho up with people he would like, and ones that deserved his amazing friend. Namely, someone who wasn't him. Completely different from him. "Why must you make my job so complicated? I'm trying, you know?"

"Maybe it's because there's already someone I want to date, Thomas," Minho growled exasperatedly, pacing in circles around their bench.

"Then why don't you?" Thomas murmured. Why wouldn't Minho date someone he wanted to?

"Because that person seems to be under the impression that I want to date other people," Minho said, looking straight at Thomas. It was like he was staring into Thomas' soul and telling him to "get lost, I've got somebody better and you'll never be that 'somebody'."

Thomas sniffled slightly, but kept it to himself. His best friend deserved the best, and though Thomas didn't think that person deserved Minho (since let's face it, Minho is amazing and no one deserves him), he could stand by his side. "I could try to help you convince them?"

Minho plopped down onto the sofa and laid his head back. "Why must you do this to yourself, Thomas?"

Thomas cocked a brow. He was radiating confusion by then. If Minho didn't want him to help, what did he want? "Do what?"

"Demeaning yourself," Minho sighed. "Making yourself less."

"I'm not!" Thomas retorted. He wasn't, right? Nobody was good enough for Minho.

"You're the person I want to date, Thomas!" Minho yelled, making Thomas jump into the air. "You're the one who keeps setting me up with other people! I just want to date you!" He rolled his eyes at the amber eyed boy who was frozen ridged, his hands clasped on his lap.

"You...want to date...me?" Thomas inquired, blinking slowly. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yes, I want to date you, Thomas," Minho rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Thomas on the bench.

Thomas looked up at the stars. "I want to date you, too."

Minho wagged a finger at him. "We will talk about this insecurity thing, shank," he warned, but made no move to do it before pulling Thomas into a kiss.

As the two melted into the rejoice of their mouths, Thomas thought to himself: this is my favourite memory.

(Bonus: they get married under the moon and stars, laid stark for all to see.)

[thominho-week-2024]

Thominho Week 2022

Dates: May 29-June 4th

I will be reblogging works between May 29th and June 6th.

The ao3 collection will open May 28th and remain open!

Prompts:

Day 1: Enemies to Lovers

Day 2: If I can't protect you... it's not worth it

Day 3: "If I don't see you on the other side..."

Day 4: Storms

Day 5: First Kisses

Day 6: "We're a team"

Day 7: It's us against the world

Alternates:

To be used in place of or in addition to the above prompts.

What if.... [Thomas/Minho has the flare, Jorge does remove Minho's fingers, Thomas is deaf from the lightning storm?, etc]

Running with no destination

Reincarnation

Tagging:

Please tag your works with:

Thominho Week 2022

The day number (tmwd1, etc)

The prompt you're using

If not prompt-specific, AU or canon-compliant

Tag alt for the alternate prompts

Any trigger warnings you may need

Character tags (if necessary)

Any additional tags

Very excited to see what our community produces this year! Fics, art, gifs, AMVs, moodboards--anything and everything is welcome!

[wickedshank]

A scared little shank

Thominho Week 2021・Day 1・Minho’s first impression (canon compliant)

If you asked anyone else, Thomas was just another scared little shank who asked a lot of questions. Minho wasn’t so sure he agreed.

Also on AO3. Enjoy!

・・・・・・

Minho heard about the Greenie before he ever saw him. A scared little shank, the Gladers said, nothing too impressive. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just more of the same sort of Newbie they’d been sent once a month for the past two years.

“Asks a shuck ton of questions,” Alby had said with a huff over dinner.

Minho barely glanced up from his food. “Don’t they all?”

Alby only grunted in response. Though they’d all agreed he should be the one to follow up Nick as their leader, he was far from the most approachable shank in the Glade.

A vague feeling of pity for the new kid pricked at the back of Minho’s brain, but any more thoughts of him were quickly banished as Minho went to scour the kitchen for seconds.

・・・

It wasn’t until two days later that Minho had the pleasure of meeting the Greenbean himself.

The Runner had just sprinted back to the Glade as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, anxious to tell the others about the dead Griever he’d found, and an inquisitive Newbie wasn’t his first choice of companion. But at least he shouted for someone to get Alby and Newt while Minho was too fatigued to move much himself.

Then came the questions. The vigor in the Greenie’s voice, the unbridled curiosity and intensity with which he tried to figure out what had happened.

It got on Minho’s nerves like no other.

He had been so excited, too, once upon a time, as he first began to map out the Maze. As he searched for the answer to such a straightforward problem that little children were left to explore them. Two years of running around without getting any closer to a solution had beaten that out of him.

Yet after he almost scared the Newbie away, Minho figured he might as well answer a few questions to make up for it. Thomas looked at him as though he’d just handed him a treasure chest full of gold.

Minho had to avert his eyes. He longed to be so hopeful again. He could almost begin to imagine it with the thing he’d just discovered. Maybe it would lead them somewhere. Maybe there really was a way out of here after all.

Thomas’s enthusiasm made him like the kid a little more. Made him think that, maybe, just by being near him he could leech off it.

So he told Thomas he could hear whatever Minho had to tell Alby, who was too eager to bother sending Thomas away anyway.

After all, Minho thought, he was just another shank who asked a lot of questions.

・・・

Another day later, Minho had to amend his earlier impression of the boy.

Thomas wasn’t just another shank. He was a dumb shank. A shank with a death wish. And a shank who still couldn’t stop asking questions. Useless questions, ridiculous questions, questions that would not change the fact that they were trapped in the Maze at night, and all three of them would be dead before daybreak.

And Minho had ran. Ran away from Alby and Thomas and whatever horrors would come to haunt him. He kept running until his lungs ached and he had a stitch in his side. The sounds of Grievers echoed against the Maze walls, gritting stone and whirring gears. And those sounds moved away from him. As though they were chasing something else.

Fighting against his own survival instinct, Minho turned around. He cursed himself for being such a coward. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well die a heroic death. He might as well try to protect one curious Newbie.

Not that anyone would ever know about it if they both died in there.

・・・

Minho couldn’t believe he was still alive. That, somehow, they both were. The Grievers were gone, disappeared over the edge of the Cliff, and he and Thomas were alive and breathing, their hearts pumping. He sank down against the Maze wall as adrenaline left his body, and his limbs relaxed for the first time in hours. An ache crawled up his legs.

He didn’t know how much time passed before either of them spoke.

“Minho?” Thomas was breathing heavy, chest heaving as he lay with his arms splayed out to the side. Remnants of tears dried on the corners of his eyes. He’d cried until his throat was scratched raw. It sounded like every word he spoke hurt on the way out.

Not that that shut him up.

“We survived.” He paused for another heaving breath. “Right?”

Minho couldn’t say for sure if the boy was a hundred percent conscious. He might have been delirious, babbling.

The chuckle that bubbled up Minho’s throat surprised even himself. “Yeah.” He rested his head back against the wall, looked at the still dark sky above. It’d be a few more hours before sunrise. He breathed in the musty scent of the Maze. “We survived.”

“Minho?”

He sighed. “Yes, Greenie?”

An exhausted smile pulled at Thomas’s lips. Minho realized he hadn’t seen the boy smile before, had yet to hear him laugh. If he ever would.

Thomas’s hand brushed against the tip of his shoe. His fingers stretched out, reaching.

Minho put his hand over Thomas’s, and the boy relaxed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Thomas said, eyes closed, breaths evening out.

He almost hadn’t been, Minho thought. He’d fled, ran away from him. Left behind an unconscious Alby and the defenseless Newbie to fend for themselves.

Maybe he wasn’t so defenseless after all.

He wasn’t dumb. He wasn’t a scared little shank, either. Instead, Thomas might very well have been the bravest shuck-faced shank Minho had ever met.

Before either of them passed out from exhaustion, Minho squeezed Thomas’s hand beneath his. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

[thominho-incorrectquotes]

You are the miracle I was hoping for

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2021, Day 1 “ Minho's first impression (Canon compliant) ”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

2129 words

Tags: Canon compliant, takes place in the first book, grey-aroace Minho (hinted)

Summary:   When Minho volunteered to be a Runner, he didn't expected to be so alone. Until everything changed.

Note:   I'm so excited for another Thominho Week! Hope you enjoy all the fics I have prepared!

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

_______________________________

When Minho first arrived in the Maze with the first bunch of teenage boys, with no memories, it had been a mess. Trying to figure everything out took a while and they lost few boys to what they decided to call Grievers. But he remembered being somehow attracted to what was beyond those walls. He wanted to know more.

When they started dividing the different jobs, Minho had jumped on the "Runner" one and was soon assigned as the Keeper of the Runners since he was the fastest and bravest one. He wanted to know what this "maze" was all about. If their theory was right and that they were sent there to solve what appeared to be a Maze with the few small exploration they made during the first days, then Minho wanted to be the one to find the solution.

So he ran. Everyday.

With time, they started figuring more things, like how the Maze had sections that changed every day. Or how The Grievers seemed to come out more at night. The young Asian was thrilled every time a new discovery was made.

Soon enough, it had been a year. A year of running every day, mapping out the Maze, eating at the Glade before sleeping. Starting all over the next day.

And after a year… there was no new discovery. They stagnated.

And after a year of running alone in the Maze… Minho realized how lonely his life had become. Beside the few times he had to train a new Runner, the Keeper spent most of his days alone, running his ass off in hope to find an escape to this hell.

He wasn't in the Glade long enough to become close to someone. He had been close to Newt, another runner, even if they still didn't spend much time together. But one day, Newt tried to kill himself and was no longer a Runner. And ever since, the blond stuck to Alby.

And Minho was lonelier than ever.

It was hard, really, being the Keeper of the Runner, having the biggest responsibility on his shoulders while also having to see everyone in the Glade having friends, or even partners, while he was alone.

He hated it. Hated it so much. He hated those who put them there. He hated loosing another Glader, like it was his own fault that he couldn't save them all. He hated that he had no one.

He was starting to lose hope. And he hated it even more. It was his job, his responsibility, he couldn't lose hope! So every time he set foot in the Maze, he wished for a miracle. Every time one of his Runner was about to give up, he took on the role of the optimistic one, giving words of encouragement, ignoring how hard it was to do so when he was also falling apart.

Another year passed. Same loneliness. Same old Maze who couldn't be solved. Same hatred for those who put them there.

Despite all this, he did his job every day. Despite losing their leader, Nick, to the Grievers few weeks ago, he still wished that things would change. Despite the routine making him sick of everything, he continued. He couldn't stop. Everyone counted on him.

Another Greenie came. The first one since Alby became the leader. Minho didn't think about it too much. Just another Newbie that he won't be able to get close too. But then, on his daily run in the Maze, he came across something he'd never seen before. A dead Griever.

Was this the sign he was hoping for? Were things starting to change?

He ran back to the Glade. He had to figure it out. This was big!

He never ran faster before. His lungs were burning, but he didn't stop. It's only once in the safety of the Glade that he allowed himself to crash down in exhaustion, finally allowing his body to escape the pain from his long sprint.

The Greenie, a brown-haired boy, a little younger than him, ran to him, asking if he was okay. Minho was momentarily distracted by the many moles covering the boy's face.

He was beautiful. So beautiful.

Perfect lips, curious amber eyes that looked golden in the sun, messy brown hair that made him look younger than he probably was… He was perfect. And it was so unsettling for Minho, all those feelings… He had never felt the need – the urge – to kiss someone else before, and this boy comes and steals Minho's breath away, not that he had any left after his run.

Alby's arrival got him out of his daydream. Quite annoyed that him for that, he commanded their leader to get him some water. He wanted to have the Greenie for himself, just for a while.

Of course, he couldn't help but be his sarcastic self. He was a bit afraid that Thomas, as the boy told him what is name was, would take offense in his sarcasm, like all other Gladers who couldn't stand him for that, but unlike them, Thomas, after seemingly understanding Minho's way of communicating, seemed to not mind it. It was a pleasant surprise. There was something about him that made him different from the others. Minho only wished he could spend more time with him.

And then, Ben was banished for attacking Thomas, saying that it was all Thomas's fault, which only was adding to Minho's suspicions about Thomas being different.

Trying to push back the thought that a Glader died once again, he went into the Maze the next day along with Alby to show him the dead Griever. No matter what, he still had a job to do.

He would never could have guessed that Alby would be dumb enough to poke the disgusting flesh of this monster with a stick. He would never could have guessed that he would have to smash their leader's head with a rock in order to carry him to safety.

After hours of walking in the Maze with Alby on his back, Minho knew time was running out. He didn't have to look at his watch to know that. After years in the Maze, it had become a second nature to just know when the doors would close.

The idea of leaving Alby there and saving himself made its way into his mind, but he pushed it back. If he couldn't save as many Gladers as he could, his job as the Keeper of the Runners meant nothing. He had to save Alby. He had to save everyone.

The finally saw the doors, but to his horror, they were closing. He knew he had no chance. He knew that if he just dropped Alby there, he could still run to the doors and save his life. But he couldn't. He couldn't give up!

So he continued his way to the Glade, Alby on his back. He saw Thomas. He saw the boy looking at him in horror as the doors were closing. Before he could yell him to stop, he saw the Greenie rushing into the Maze, as the doors closed behind him.

Minho wanted to scream, but no sounds came out. His throat was raw and he was breathless.

He was trapped. He was trapped in the Maze.

And Thomas, the dumb shank, was there too.

Minho couldn't understand why the boy would throw away his life like that. It was a death wish. The boy was suicidal, there was no other option.

But Thomas wanted to help, wanted to find a solution. Minho couldn't believe how dumb the boy was. Sure, he had arrived in the Glade not so long ago, but he was pretty sure Newt told him about the Maze and how dangerous it was.

Fear filled his whole body. He didn't want to die. He still had his goal to achieve. He still had to solve the Maze and save everyone!

He was the best Runner, he knew the Maze by heart. Maybe he would be able to escape the Grievers?

With that thought in mind, he left Thomas there with Alby. Alby was going to die anyway and if the Greenie was bright enough, he'll escape the monsters too.

So he ran. He was exhausted, but he couldn't stop. The Maze felt alive, as if it was watching him. The blood pumping into his hears couldn't stop the noise from the Maze. The Grievers were there.

He was terrified. Only the familiarity of running kept him going.

But then, he was hit with a strange feeling, making him stop in his track. Thomas had went into the Maze. He went into the Maze! He went to help him! And Minho just left him there. The boy knew nothing about the Maze, he was going to die without his help! And the thought of Thomas dying twisted Minho's stomach.

He didn't know exactly why, but Thomas couldn't die. Thomas was different. His act of stupid bravery back there was enough proof. No one in the Glade would have done the same. Everyone, himself included, would have just stayed in the safety of the Glade.

Thomas was important. Thomas could not die. With that in mind, Minho turned around and retraced his steps to where he hoped Thomas still was. His fear was pushed back, taken over by the pure determination of helping the Greenie. The only thing he allowed himself to be scared off was finding Thomas dead.

He wasn't dead when Minho finally saw him. But he was about to be killed by the four Grievers surrounding him. Minho was too late. Thomas was going to die. The Keeper wanted to scream, but his throat was squeezed shut.

But then, Minho saw something that changed everything.

Thomas sprinted towards one of the Grievers. The monster seemed surprised for a second before rushing at the boy, but before he could get him, Thomas stepped aside letting the Griever pass by him, not able to stop, before running again.

It wasn't the fact that Thomas shucking escaped a Griever. It was the fact Thomas didn't give up, even if all the odds were against him. That's what they needed.

And as Minho came up with a plan of his own after seeing the boy's stunt, as they ran together towards the cliff, as he took Thomas in his arms after they pushed the last Griever down the hole, trying is best to comfort the crying kid because of an unknown feeling in his guts told him to, as they came back to the Glade alive, as Minho took Thomas's defense during the Keepers meeting, as they became closer on their daily run in the Maze, as his feelings for the one he now considered his best friend grew… Minho knew he wouldn't be able to live without Thomas.

Because Thomas was the miracle he was hoping for.

___________________________________

Hope you liked it! See you tomorrow!

[thominho-incorrectquotes]

Nights

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2020, Day 1 “Night”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

1102 words

Tags: Canon-compliant, post canon, fluff, comfort

Summary:  When they arrived in the Safe Haven, the two runners quickly discovered that they couldn’t sleep without the other. At that time, their feelings for each other weren’t as clear. But without the other boy next to them, they just couldn’t sleep at all.

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

It was cold. Too cold. It woke him up.

He was in the small cabin he shared with Thomas ever since they started building small houses for everyone in the Safe Haven.

And it was way too cold.

Minho realized, after coming out of his sleepy haze, it was because the body supposed to be in his arms wasn't where it was supposed to be. He sighed. It happened again.

He saw Thomas, sitting by the end of the bed, curled up in a ball, looking through the window. Getting out of the covers, the Asian went to his boyfriend to wrap himself around him. The brunet barely acknowledged him, just putting his hands on Minho's arms and relaxing into the embrace. It was natural for them. An old routine.

When they arrived in the Safe Haven, the two runners quickly discovered that they couldn't sleep without the other. At that time, their feelings for each other weren't as clear. But without the other boy next to them, they just couldn't sleep at all.

Soon, the nightmares started coming. It was not really a surprise, after everything. Thomas, particularly, had hard times with them. If he had one, he never was able to go back to sleep. It sorts of became a habit for Minho to wake up during the night and stay up with the youngest, cuddling with him in bed, until morning.

The night became theirs. It was those moments where they were just the two of them, talking about everything, or sometimes not talking at all. It was those moments where the Asian felt the closest to the younger boy. He felt like Thomas was the only one to truly understand him. They've been through so much together and he knew he couldn't go on without him.

The feelings he had for that boy ever since he went into the Maze to help him started to grow more and more every night they spent wide awake together, tangled in each other. Having the brunet in his arms, all for himself, was just too much sometimes, yet, he wanted more.

After a while, he just couldn't keep it to himself and Minho admitted to Thomas that he wasn't joking, back in Denver, when he told the boy he loved him.

To his surprise, his Runner told him he felt the same. He wasn't as sure of his feelings back then, during the trials. However, he admitted that ever since their first meeting, he was somehow drawn to his Keeper. He wanted to know him better, to be around him. Soon enough, he started considering the older boy as his best friend, as the most important person in his life. He just couldn't do it without Minho. In the Safe Haven, he realized that he had always been in love with the Asian. The feelings were always there. They just had that special bond, and Thomas loved it.

It wasn't a surprise for anyone when the two of them started hugging, kissing and overall being affectionate towards each other. Everyone knew that it was going to happen one day. Frypan had even screamed "FINALLY" when he first saw them kissing and started rambling about how he was tired of seeing the two of them dancing around each other for so long.

Since then, the nights spent wide awake because of another nightmare were now sometimes filled with make out sessions, a lot of caresses and intimate moments. It was just perfect.

Tonight however, Minho knew that Thomas needed comfort. He wiped the tears on his lover's cheeks with concern. The brunet rarely cried after a nightmare.

"What happened this time?" he whispered softly while caressing the boy's face with his fingers.

The Keeper never asked what the nightmares were about. He didn't have to, he had the same. But this time, he knew something was wrong.

Thomas didn't reply right away. He just took his lover's hand in his in a way that was painfully soft, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. The boy looked so broken, Minho felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

"You died" he finally said after a while, "You died a-and…"

His voice cracked and soon he started sobbing softly. The older boy immediately pulled him closer, putting his hands on his head while Thomas nuzzled his neck.

"Shh… it's okay, I'm here… I'm here…" he whispered in hopes of calming his boyfriend while stroking the brown locks. How he hated seeing him like that.

"I-I couldn't save you…" he cried.

"Shh, it's okay…"

Minho continued his caresses and words of comfort, feeling helpless. His heart was hurting so much right now. He could only imagine how the boy in his arms felt.

He decided to lay him down, the brunet's head still on his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around him. Thomas was squeezing the older boy so hard, as if he was going to disappear. The Keeper pressed light kisses on the brown hair and went to stroke his lover's back, knowing he secretly loved it. It was one of his soft spot, along with the back of his ears which always made him shiver in pleasure when Minho kissed him there.

But what Thomas loved the most was cuddling and snuggling with his boyfriend. He craved it, as if he was making up for years of lack of affection. Minho didn't really mind as they both discovered that he was actually pretty affectionate and preferred to show his love that way.

It was having the Asian close to him that always calmed him down. His nightmare was starting to fade away and the comforting caresses on his skin felt so good, reminding him that the most important person in his life was here and alive.

After what seemed like hours, Minho moved to face Thomas, tracing his cheeks covered in moles while looking deep into the hazel eyes.

"I love you shuck-face".

Thomas smiled, a rare sight. However, every time he did, his Keeper always seemed like he was the reason for that smile.

"I love you too" the brunet replied. Yes, he loved that man so much.

Minho kissed him softly on the lips, so delicately as if afraid to break them. In respond, the youngest tightened his grip on his boyfriend. He wanted to be as close as possible to him. It was really the best thing in the world.

Morning eventually came few hours later. Thomas and Minho were still tangled in each other, wide awake and happy to be together.

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Hope you liked it! 

[thominho-week-2024]

2021 Prompt List

Dates: May 16th-22nd

I will be reblogging on these dates (and probably past them; please use the tags and/or tag @thominho-week2021 so I can find your post!) The AO3 collection will open on May 16th, sometime in the morning EST.

Prompts:

Day 1: Minho's first impression (Canon compliant)

Day 2: "Let's run"

Day 3: Fake dating

Day 4: Scars

Day 5: "He is my WHAT?!"

Day 6: One Bed AU 

Day 7: Trauma exploration/Vulnerability

Alternates:

You may write these in place of any of the above prompts, or in addition to them, if you'd like.

"I'll love you forever"

Married Thominho/domestic life

Kisses

Tagging:

I will be following Thominho Week 2021 and try to check at least once a day. (This will be my second week of summer classes, so do forgive me I miss your work one day--it's not intentional.)

Please use:

Thominho Week 2021

The day number (tmwd1, etc)

The prompt you're using

Tag if canon-compliant (applies for non-AUs)/in-canon or not, etc

Tag alt for the alternate prompts

Extra work (if you choose to write in addition to the seven prompts)

Trigger warnings, if any

Character tags (if necessary)

Any additional tags

[thominho-week-2024]

Prompt list and dates!

We had a 50/50 split between the two weeks, so we’ve decided to keep them both open for submissions.

We’ll be reblogging posts December 13th-26th. You don’t have to post on every day, don’t worry. And the collection on Ao3 will be open from the 12th through the middle of January.

Prompts:

Day 1/Dec 13/Dec 20th: “Night”

Day 2/Dec 14/Dec 21st: Wingfic AU

Day 3/Dec 15th/Dec 22nd: Fantasy AU

Day 4/Dec 16th/Dec 23rd: Softness/Comfort 

Day 5/Dec 17th/Dec 24th: Pre-maze/Fever Code Era

Day 6/Dec 18th/Dec 25th: Hurt/Comfort

Day 7/Dec 19th/Dec 26th: Soulmate AU

Alternates:

You may write these in place of any of the above prompts, or in addition to them, if you’d like.

College AU

Royalty AU

"Hands"

Tagging:

Please tag your works with:

Thominho Week 2020

The day number (tmwd1, etc)

The prompt you’re using

Tag if canon-compliant (applies for non-AUs)/in-canon or not, etc

Tag alt for the alternate prompts

Extra work (if you choose to write in addition to the seven prompts)

Trigger warnings

Character tags (if necessary)

Any additional tags

We will be following Thominho Week 2020 tags and day number tags, as well as mentions.

Above all, have fun!