The Maze Runner Thomas - Tumblr Posts

bitches be like “oh, look, a new emotion” and then it’s thomas from the maze runner

What the sound said.

Dystopia men. That's it.

Shut Up

Shut Up (Thomas x Gally)

Word Count: 749 words

Warnings: kissing

Summary: the gladers wonder why Gally suddenly cares about Thomas

(First time writing this and it’s not my finest work so, I hope you enjoy it)

Gally hated Thomas. at least that’s what he told himself everyday because he cannot face the other option.

but even with this well know detail that didn’t stop him waiting with Newt for Minho and Thomas’ return.

the boy keeps looking sideways at him and he starts to get annoyed. “Just spit out what you want to say will you?”

“Just curious why you’re here,” he shrugs, “you haven’t shown much interest in Tommy or Minho before.”

Gally takes his time to answer, casting around for an excuse that would hide his real motive.

“I’m just…curious where they are, the doors are going to close soon, and they’ve been out for a long time.”

“Mhm.” Newt doesn’t look at all convinced but he doesn’t question him further.

the rest of the gladers, after finished with eating, started filling out and gathering around.

they all knew that Minho and Thomas had gone to examine the body of the griever, but they should have definitely been back by now.

the sky was darkening and Newt’s eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the opening to the maze.

“There they are the bleeding shanks.”

Thomas and Minho found the corner and jog towards them. “What time do you call this?” Newt shouts above the sighs of relief and footsteps of the crowd dispersing.

“We found something, Minho and Newt bend over something the dark haired boy is holding as Thomas moves to greet Chuck. “You guys nearly didn’t make it back, the doors are about to close.” he hears the young boy tell his friend.

“Well we made it back.”

“It’s a good thing you did.” Gally immediately regretted saying this. Thomas, Chuck, Newt and Minho all look up and stare at him with a mix of confusion and surprise.

“I mean-“ Gally fumbles his words, silently cursing himself, “we didn’t want to loose the chance of finding more about that griever.

they all continue to stare, and after a moment or two of silence, he shuffles away.

he mutters insults at himself under his breath. how could he have been so stupid? everyone probably thought he was insane now.

a second pair of footsteps approaches him from behind and he turns to shout something rude at the unknown glader.

he spins on his heel, but when he sees Thomas, the insult melts in his mouth.

Thomas’ forehead is creased, still looking bemused.

“what are you doing here?” he tries to put as much venom as he can into his voice. Thomas doesn’t recoil, quite the contrary, he steps closer.

“what did you mean back there?”

“Shut up.” he turns his back on the boy, but he is relentless.

“I’m serious, why were you waiting for us, Newt said you were there before the others.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, since when did you care.”

“I don’t-“

“Gally, you’re not convincing anyone, what you said was as good as a confession.”

he feels the blood drain from his face. he couldn’t know, could he?”

“What do you mean confession?”

“Confession that you don’t hate me as much as you say you do.”

“I still don’t understand.”

Thomas laughs, “it’s obvious that you’re just playing the enemy card because of tradition. do you want to be friends is that it.”

the other boy lets out a sigh of relief, it’s alright, he still didn’t know. this relief didn’t last long.

“you’re hiding something, from all of us, just admit what it is or I’ll find out myself.”

Gally doesn’t answer him, but stares down at his shoe, which he was scuffing in the dirt.

“Come on, just tell me.” Thomas moves in front of him.

“Thomas-“ he turns his back on him.

“Why not.”

“Thomas I’m serious.”

“But-“

Gally grabs him looking him in the eyes. Thomas looks surprised, his eyebrows raised, almost touching his hair as the boy leans into him and takes his lips in his own.

they stand there for a moment before Gally holds him at arms length, looking into his eyes, “do you understand now.”

the boy nods.

“that explains a lot.” both of their head snap around to face Minho. he was leaning on Newt’s shoulder, smirking.

“Shut up.”

Minho’s smirk splits into a grin, “you know the best part? you can’t beat me up, because unfortunately for you, Thomas cares about me, don’t you Thomas.”

“I wouldn’t blame Gally for beating you up.” he smiles at his friend, “you are very good at being annoying.”

Minho laughs, “guilty as charged.”

Edit of Newt and Thomas I made cause they’re a goofy lil duo. (Warning: Terrible editing, that’s on me)

Crank

Crank (Newt x Thomas)

Word Count: 1244 words

Warnings: kissing, spoilers for tdc, mild violence, cuddling

Summary: Since they’ve been at WICKED Thomas notices something off about his friend

Newt twists his hands in his lap, staring at his fingers. They twitch involuntarily, but that was nothing new. He was loosing count of the things he had lost control of.

The boy clenches and unclenches his fist, sighing when his whole fist shook slightly. He didn’t know how long he could hide it from the brunet that was now looking at him like he had just started speaking Latin or something.

It didn’t matter, but if he could, making his friend worry least was the best option. The other boys were talking amongst themselves, Thomas having stopped staring at him and now in deep conversation with Minho and Brenda.

The blond pushed himself to his feet, slipping out of the door. If he could just get away from a moment, maybe the twitching in his hands would calm down.

He pulled his jacket further down his arms and around his neck. It wouldn’t be much longer before the black veins that hid there would peep out from under his clothes.

Newt hurried down a long corridor, looking around at the many doors than line it.

He was looking for a particular one. One that a WICKED worker had shown him upon their arrival. It had a plate on the door, brass, by the looks of it, not that it mattered.

Finally he reached the door with his name on it. ‘Newt’ and below the neatly carved letters, ‘The Glue’.

Opposite the this door, was one that read, ‘Thomas: To be killed by Group B’. He found himself staring at these intriguing words, wondering, for perhaps the hundredth time, what it could mean.

Shaking his head slightly, he put his hand on the doorknob, when a voice sounded from behind him, “Where are you off to in such a hurry.”

Newt doesn’t jump. He knew the boy would follow him. Knew he would notice him slip away. “What do you want Tommy.” He spins on his heel, sounding more weary than annoyed.

“I want to know what’s wrong.”

“Nothings wrong.” Newt rubs his eyes with a hand.

“You really expect me to believe that?” Thomas steps closer to him, scanning his face. Newt doesn’t answer. “I’m just tired Tommy, it’s been a bloody long day. Heck, it’s been a bloody long week.”

The brunet smiles at his friend, seeming to relax, or at least stop looking at Newt like he was trying to x-ray him with his eyes. Relaxing as well, Newt puts an arm on the doorframe and leans on it.

Thomas smile disappears immediately, “what’s that on your arm?” His voice is sharp and panicked.

“What?! Nothing.” Newt quickly pulls his jacket sleeve down more, silently cursing himself.

“Let me see.” With surprising speed, Thomas grabs Newts arm and pulls down his sleeve. Dark veins snaked up his arm, standing out obscurely on his pale skin.

“Oh Newt.” Thomas whispers quietly, looking down at the veins.

“It’s nothing.” He pulls his arm out of the brunet’s grip and pulls the sleeve down.

“Nothing? What do you mean it’s nothing?”

“Don’t Tommy, you’re not helping.”

“Newt, you can’t just hide this.”

“I’m bloody well gonna try.”

“But,” Thomas was looking incredulously at his friend, “aren’t you scared.”

“Of what? Dying?”

“Well, yeah”

“No, no not of dying.”

“Then what?”

Newt doesn’t look at Thomas, there is something in his eyes that Thomas can’t deceiver.

“I’m scared of turning into a bloody psycho. I don’t want to hurt you. Any of you.” He adds quickly.

“You’re not going to. We’ll find a cure, you’ll see.”

“You’re so delusional Tommy, you really think there’s a cure?”

“Yes I do.”

“Then I’m not the only one who’s going mad.”

Newt turns his back on Thomas, once again placing a hand on the doorknob.

“You’ve changed.” The brunet’s murmur sounds from behind him. He doesn’t know what made him do. What made anger surge inside of him.

Next thing he knew, he had Thomas pinned against a wall, their faces about an inch apart.

“Of course I’ve changed, we’ve all bloody changed. My minds being eaten away as we speak for shucks sake.”

Newt suddenly seems aware of what he’s doing and backs away from Thomas, looking, terrified, down at his twitching hands.

“I’m sorry Tommy. I didn’t-“

Thomas moves forward and hugs his friend. The boy stands there stiffly for a moment before hugging him back. It was the first time he had been hugged since, well, since he could remember. It wasn’t as though hugs were a common thing around the gladers.

Newt puts his head on the other’s shoulder, practically melting into his arms. “I’m sorry Tommy. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why-“

“Forget it okay?”

“I-“

“Newt”

“But-“

He doesn’t get to finish. Thomas presses his lips on his, stopping his words. Newt freezes, at first processing what was going on, then he’s kissing him back.

The two sway on the spot, the blond wrapping his arms around Thomas’ neck, pushing himself closer to him. He holds him as though he will float away at the slightest sign of letting go.

They break apart, but stay there for a few more moments, foreheads pressed together, before Thomas says, somewhat reluctantly, “You should get some rest.”

Newt nods slowly, but doesn’t let go of the boy before him as he moves towards his room. Without any objections, Thomas follows. The door is pushed open and they step inside the dark room.

Thomas walks Newt towards the bed and he slumps down onto it, not even bothering to change. He curls up, but keeps his eyes open, watching Thomas closely. His hand cups on of Newt’s cheeks and moves up into his hair which he strokes softly.

The boys breathing levels and he closes his eyes. Believing he’s asleep Thomas starts to get up. A hand reaches out and hold onto his sleeve. He looks down to see Newt gripping onto his jacket feebly, looking a little desperate.

“Please Tommy, stay.”

The boy smiles softly, taking the hand gently into his own, “ok.” Newt’s face lights up instantly and he sits up in the bed, moving over to Thomas can sit down. They sit next to each other, arms pressed together.

Newt’s head rests on the other’s shoulder, his blond hair tickling his neck. Thomas’ eyes close and he feels sleep tugging at him.

*

Golden light filters in through the window, shining on the two boys. Thomas’ eyes flit open and he is momentarily surprised to find himself, still sitting up in the bed, with Newt curled beside him, his head on the other’s chest.

He smiles down at his friend, the golden light of the morning turning his hair into a rippling amber river.

Footsteps sound from outside the door, snapping Thomas out of his daydreams. The door swings open revealing Minho, “Hey Newt, have you seen Thomas, he’s not in his-“

The boys eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the scene before him. He opens his mouth but Thomas shushes him, gesturing to the sleeping Newt. Minho smiles at the two of them for a moment before miming throwing up and leaving the room, closing the door softly.

Thomas could almost see Minho sprint down the hallway, telling anyone who would listen about what he had just seen, most likely exaggerated some details. But he found he didn’t care.

(Newt x reader fics coming soon!)

Ask and thee shall receive:

His Tommy

His Tommy (Newtmas)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: graphic descriptions, insanity, depressed Newt, SPOILERS, blood, self exiting, guns/knifes, please tell me if I missed any

Summary: Newt’s flare is getting worse and even Thomas can’t help him now.

(For @ssseashell and anybody else who’s been looking for this. Not my finest work but it’s something)

He stared blankly at the boy, not entirely sure what to do. He recognised him, there was warmth and happiness linking with this boy, but no, that couldn’t be right. The voices, they told him that the munies were bad, they kept him safe, the voices did.

His voice was soft but it sounded like one thousand tiny knives that pierced Newt’s ears, “Hey. Newt. It’s me, Thomas. You still remember me, right?”

That was it. Thomas. That greenie, the one who had hovered on the edge of his decaying mind for a long time. He was his friend, wasn’t he? And yet Newt would not forget how the boy had ignored his note.

How could he? What kind of friend would leave him like he was, trapped with his insanity and the voices. No, that wasn’t right, the voices were his friend, the voices kept him safe. But, wasn’t Thomas his friend? No, he couldn’t be, what kind of friend didn’t even fill out his final request.

“I bloody remember you, Tommy. You just came to see me at the Palace, rubbed it in that you ignored my note. I can’t go completely crazy in a few days.”

The boys hazel eyes filled with sadness and hurt but he felt no sympathy. This was not his friend, the voices told him so.

“Then why are you here? Why are you with … them?” He looked towards the cranks and Newt found the voices telling him what to say. Besides, the words were true, weren’t they? The voices knew best.

“It comes and goes, man. I can’t explain it. Sometimes I can’t control myself, barely know what I’m doing. But usually it’s just like an itch in my brain, throwing everything off-kilter just enough to bother me—make me angry.”

“You seem fine right now.”

Newt would have smiled if he wasn’t so angry with the boy. Did he really think he could ignore his note and then pretend that everything was fine and expect him to pretend nothing had changed. That he hadn’t changed.

“Yeah, well. The only reason I’m with these wackers from the Palace is because I don’t know what else to do. They’re fighting, but they’re also a group. You find yourself alone, you don’t have a bloody chance.”

“Newt,” Thomas started softly, “come with me this time, right now. We can take you somewhere safer, somewhere better to …”

Newt laughed humourlessly his head twitching as he did so. How could he possibly suggest him? Did he even know what Thomas had put him through.

No, Thomas is our friend, he wants to help us, it was a small squeak in the back of his head, the part of his brain not contaminated by the flare.

But the voices knew best, and so he should abide to their wishes.

“Get out of here, Tommy. Get away.”

“Just come with me,” Thomas was begging now, his eyes wide. “I’ll tie you up if it makes you feel better.”

This made Newt snap, “Just shut up, you shuck traitor! Didn’t you read my note? You can’t do one last, lousy thing for me? Gotta be the hero, like always? I hate you! I always hated you!”

But that wasn’t true, he didn’t really hate Thomas, did he? He didn’t even know anymore.

“Newt …” Thomas tried again but Newt continued, “It was all your fault! You could’ve stopped them when the first Creators died. You could’ve figured out a way. But no! You had to keep it going, try to save the world, be the hero. And you came to the Maze and never stopped. All you care about is yourself! Admit it! Gotta be the one people remember, the one people worship! We should’ve thrown you down the Box hole!”

He didn’t know why he was so angry but he couldn’t help himself. Someone shouted something from behind Thomas, “I’m gonna blast him! Get out of the way!”

“Don’t! It’s just me and him! Don’t do anything!”

Why the hell was Thomas defending him, he was evil. Evil, evil, evil, and Newt hated him. But did he really?

“Newt, stop. Just listen to me. I know you’re okay in there. Enough to hear me out.”

He almost laughed again, but instead curled his lip in disgust, “I hate you, Tommy!”

The boy looked hurt and even, a little frightened. He took a step away from Newt, with only added to his rage.

“I hate you I hate you I hate you! After all I did for you, after all the freaking klunk I went through in the bloody Maze, you can’t do the one and only thing I’ve ever asked you to do! I can’t even look at your ugly shuck face!”

He was becoming more and more riled by the second, spit dripping from his mouth as he glared at Thomas. The boy took two more steps backward and said quietly, “Newt, you need to stop. They’re going to shoot you. Just stop and listen to me! Get in the van, let me tie you up. Give me a chance!”

That was his ticking point. All his built up rage bubbled over and he let out an animalistic scream of fury, rushing towards Thomas. A fizz of electricity rushed past his ear but he ignored it, pinning down Thomas and continued to scream at him.

“I should rip your eyes out. Teach you a lesson in stupidity. Why’d you come over here? You expected a bloody hug? Huh? A nice sit-down to talk about the good times in the Glade?”

Thomas shook his head, gasping for breath, Newt saw him groping around for his gun.

“You wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Did I ever tell you? No, I don’t think I did.” His voice was cold.

“What happened?” Thomas asked, his fingers wreathing around his weapon.

“I tried to kill myself in the Maze. Climbed halfway up one of those bloody walls and jumped right off. Alby found me and dragged me back to the Glade right before the Doors closed. I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!”

The voices told him to kill Thomas, to kill him for what he did to all of them, but he held out. The small sane part of him told him that Thomas was his friend. He deserved to try and redeem himself.

He grabbed the hand that Thomas had holding his gun and pressed it to his own forehead.

“Now make amends! Kill me before I become one of those cannibal monsters! Kill me! I trusted you with the note! No one else. Now do it!”

“I can’t, Newt, I can’t.” He tried to wrench his hand away but Newt wouldn’t let him.

“Kill me, I trusted you, I trusted you.”

“Newt I can’t.”

“KILL ME!”

“Newt I-“

He couldn’t take it anymore. All the rage he had ever kept bottled up seemed to gush out of him like a waterfall. His mind had completely slipped, that one sane part of him gone. He didn’t think, not in the slightest. All he knew was that there was a traitor in front of him. And so he complied to the voices.

Grabbed the knife out of his belt, he curled it in his fingers and brought it down on the boys chest, screaming loudly.

Scarlet spurted out of the wound and Thomas’ wide scared eyes fixed on him. His mouth curled into a twisted, manic smile as he watched the life drain out of those eyes. Thomas’ chest heaved and then moved no more, with eyes glazed over and his mouth hanging open a little.

Newt looked into his eyes and something shifted in his stomach. He was sent back to the time that he first saw those eyes. Wide and scared, glancing around wildly. He remembered when Thomas came up in the box. It was as though he saw him clearly for the first time.

His eyes flitted from the body of the boy and his own clothes, stained in scarlet blood. And he screamed. Screamed so loud it seemed to tear at his throat. His whole body shook and tears began to fall.

He had given in, lost to the voices. He had killed. Not just anyone. He had killed Thomas.

Thomas. Thomas, who would give him small soft smiles from across the glade. Thomas, who would grip at his arm when the grievers attacked the homestead. Thomas, who would curl next to him in the scorch, using his own body to keep Newt warm during the night.

He had killed him. His sunlight. His smile, His world. His everything. He had killed his Tommy.

And with that thought, he grabbed the gun from Thomas’ hand with his own shaking ones and pressed it to his forehead. He pulled the trigger, feeling a blinding flash of pain before a sort of numb feeling. His ears rung and his eyelids grew heavy.

He needed to sleep, if he were to just close his eyes for a moment. But he needed to do something first. His body had fallen next to Tommy’s and he looked into the boy’s eyes, lifting himself laboredly and pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s lips. They were still warm.

“Goodbye Tommy.” He whispered to the boy, and then he laid back, and went to sleep.

Newt Day 2023

Haha, I found this silly poem I wrote for year 10 english.

(from the perspective of thomas)

Page 250

“Please, Tommy. Please.”

The remnants of his sanity

He pours acid in my ears

It eats into my brain

Compressed

Between the shell

Of a retired ally

And the unforgiving tarmac

Excavating my skin

Compressed

Between a drowning dread

And the dawn of guilt

Life and death in my grip

As the first is slipping

From his

His eyes

Level with mine

But I

Do not see them

Only two

Empty tunnels

With one

Inevitable

End.