Hey everyone! Feel free to request or choose a prompt and let me know! Love you!
1. “You’re not jealous, are you?” 2. “I hate that I love you!” 3. “Why did you do it?” 4. “Drunk words are sober thoughts 5. “I miss you” 6. “I thought you loved me” 7. “If you walk out right now, it’s over between us” 8. “You’re not the person I fell in love with, you’ve changed” 9. “I don’t love you anymore” 10. “This was a mistake” 11. “We’re just friends, aren’t we” 12. “You’re my best friend. Come on you know that” 13. “When are you going to open up your eyes and see I love you” 14. “It’s just one of those things. He loves her, she loves him and everyone can see it, but them” 15. “I wish I never met you” 16. “I need you” (smut or fluff let me know) 17. “I want us” 18. “I love you” 19. “What happened to us?” 20. “I don’t hate you. I never did” 21. “Was it worth it?” 22. “You never really loved me, did you?” 23. “You are so beautiful” 24. “Can I kiss you?” 25. “I hate you, but I’m falling in love with you and I can’t stop it.” 26. “Bite me” “Well, if you insist” 27. “You can’t just leave” “Watch me” 28. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 29. “Did it hurt?” 30) “Do you regret it?” 31) “There never was an us” 32. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore” 33. “I’m sorry” 34. “You’re so cheesy” 35. “Do you love me?” 36. “When are you going to get it? I never wanted you to change! I loved you the way you were!” 37. “Can we cuddle?” 38. “You’re mine and I don’t share” 39. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” 40. “Come over and make me then” 41. “No strings attached?” 42. “This is awkward” 43. “You heard me. Take the damn thing off” 44. “Marry me” (Joke or serious) 45. “Its’s awkward….. Maybe we should make out?” 46. “I don’t care anymore.” 47. “You don’t know jackshit” 48. “Every time you do that to yourself, just know you’re hurting me too” 49. “You’re still my favourite” 50. “She hates me, doesn’t she?” 51. “I want the old you back” 52. “I really don’t care about your stupid reputation” 53. “You can push me away as much as you want. You can try to lock yourself away and act like I don’t exist or like you hate me, but I’ll always come back” 54. “Fuck it” 55. “Was it just a game for you?” 56. “Is that mine?” 57. “I lied” 58. “We can share a bed, its only one night” 59. “If youb ever really loved me, there wouldn’t even be a choice” 60. “Maybe they are right” “Don’t say it, please don’t say it” “Maybe we aren’t suppose to be together” 61. “You’re friends don’t like me” 62. “He/She is mine” 63. “Try me” 64. “I’d rather die then forgive you” 65. “I think we all know who wears the pants in this relationship” 66. “Its funny because I used to think it was wrong to hate someone so much that you want them to die, but then I met you and I realized I don’t care” 67. “I can’t move on from something that wasn’t supposed to end!” 68. “ I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. You needed to move on, you weren’t suppose to love me and I needed to protect you from me.” 69. “This was a mistake” 70. “I’m tired of loving someone who doesn’t love me back” 71. “All you ever do is date assholes and I have to watch you get heartbroken over and over again because you are too blind to see that I’m in love with you” 72. “Sometimes I feel like I wanna make out with you is that a friend thing to do?” 73. “I don’t know why but somewhere inside me I still have hope that you would fall in love with me. how pathetic is that?” 74. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 75. “Why does it hurt so much?” “Because it was real. Because it was love, you actually loved him.” 76. “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.” 77. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.” 78. “you’re an idiot” “Yeah, but I’m you’re idiot” 79. “You lied to me”, “No I just avoided telling you the truth”, “That’s lying you bastard!”. 80. “Just come here and hug me you little shit”
Based on this request: “Thomas x sister imagine but they share the gift of telepathy. And they can feel each other’s pain when one of them gets hurt the other feels it.”
the way the telepathy part of the maze runner books was so fun, i get why they couldn’t put it in the movies but still
It takes you a while to wake up. Far too long, actually. You’re not sure how you know that, how you can set your standards of right and wrong without any prior experience, but somehow you know anyway. It’s instinctual, some base instinct that some mistake has been made, an error in your programming that causes your nerves and neurons to freeze.
That’s the worst part about this, you think, the lack of experience. You’re halfway asleep still, trapped in some haze of closed eyes and swimming darkness. You’re just conscious enough to form thoughts, and those thoughts all totally freak when you realize that you have no memories. No hands held, no laughs memorized. You can’t recall a single voice that has ever said your name, if you have a name at all. What is it, to be known? You cannot even know yourself.
I need to know if you can hear me. It’s me, it’s–
It’s this sheer fear, both of your lack of memories and the insistent voice, that starts to drag you out of your state of sleep. You fight like a drowning man, tugging your consciousness up and out of the endless nothingness until you start to surface. It’s like taking greedy lungfuls of air, how your fingers start to twitch at your sides and your eyes blink for the first time in what may be forever.
You sit up as soon as you can, gradually forcing your torso up until you can rest upon your forearm. You’re in a room of sorts, shoddily constructed by woven branches and bits of brick and stone at the base. There are two boys in the room with you, and although they’re across the space from you, they still notice the moment you start moving. Perhaps they’ve been waiting for it for a while. You certainly have.
Are you there?
Your voice is hoarse and cracked when you first speak, although it evens out with practice. “Who said that?”
A blond boy glances at you, evidently confused. “Sorry, what was that?”
You cough and try to gather your wits back about you. “I heard a voice. Who spoke?”
The other boy in the room, this one dark-haired, speaks next. His eyes dance with some strange combination of mirth and curiosity. “Nobody’s talking, Greenbean. This is fantastic. First girl we get and she’s out of her shuck mind.”
The boy’s blond compatriot smacks him on the arm before speaking again. This time, you notice his strong British accent. “Shut it, Minho. If you’re not being useful, you can leave. Go bother some of the others.”
Minho grins shamelessly, and you get the feeling that he and the blond boy have had variations of this conversation many times before, on all sorts of days and in all sorts of settings. “None of them take my bothering half as well as you. Besides, you asked me to be here to help out.”
Newt widens his eyes to make a point. “Yeah, to help. Not to freak out our guest, which is what you’re doing right now.” The blond boy turns towards you, as if remembering that you’re still there. “Right. New girl. How do you feel?”
You rub a tired hand over your face. Neither of them seemed to hear the voice, and you’re perfectly fine with ignoring it for now. The last thing you need is for the first people you can ever remember thinking you’re insane.
“Like I can’t decide whether to go back to sleep or never close my eyes again. What happened to me?”
Newt folds his arms. “We were hoping you had some idea of that. You’re in the Glade right now, same as the rest of us. Every month, a boy is sent up, and you seem to be the latest arrival.”
You frown. “I’m not a boy.”
Minho chuckles. “Yeah, we can see that fairly well,” he adds, despite a warning look from Newt, “Also, you were unconscious when we found you, which was weird. Like the Creators put you in before they finished what they had to do with you.”
Your brow furrows. “The Creators?”
Newt nods. “That’s our word for the bloody slintheads who sent us up here in the first place. It’s also something we don’t tell the Greenies immediately, Minho.”
Minho grins, apparently so used to Newt’s exasperation that it can wash over him like a wave. “My bad. Just ignore that last part, will you?”
You give him a curious look. “We were sent up here, then, and these Creators can control us. Why was I unconscious?”
Newt and Minho exchange significant glances, and although you’ve only known the boys for scarcely a few minutes now, you’re surprised to see the dark-haired boy’s joking attitude drop away from him like a stone. The characteristics of your arrival in this Glade must have been unusual, because neither one of them seems all too certain of themselves.
At last, Newt speaks. “We’re not entirely sure. It was strange. The whole thing is strange. To make things worse, our latest arrival seemed to recognize you instantly. It was a boy, he knew your name the second he saw your face. That shouldn’t happen, obviously, and–”
Newt keeps speaking, but another voice speaks over him. Again, the voice in your head.
Can you hear me? It’s me, it’s–it’s–
“–but I don’t think you should have to be too worried. We’ll sort this out soon enough, we always do.”
You hold up a hand. “Who was the boy who knew me? What was his name?”
Newt and the boy in your head speak at the same time.
It’s me. It’s Thomas.
“Thomas. He’s an odd one, to be sure, but this whole situation is odd. Do you know your name, though?”
You press a hand to your head, to try and stave off the voice still ricocheting against your temples if anything else.
“I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything.”
The voice in your head repeats, this time insistent, as if certain that you’re ignoring him.
You know who I am. I think you do, at least. It might have been a long time ago. I’m Thomas. You’re Y/N.
Your eyes widen. “Y/N. That’s my name, isn’t it? That’s what Thomas said.”
Minho and Newt exchange glances again, this time even more nervous than the first time around.
Minho chuckles unhappily. “Well, I don’t like that at all. Either Thomas is just a really good guesser, or something’s going on.”
Newt presses the bent knuckles of his index finger against his mouth, trying to figure this out. “We’re in the Glade, Minho. Something is always going on. I don’t like it either, though.”
Minho cocks his head to the side. “Think they knew each other beforehand? That might explain it, even if their memories were wiped. Maybe they’re remembering each other.”
Newt nods slowly. “Could be. They have the same look in their eyes.”
Minho finishes his sentence. “Like trouble.”
You look warily between the two of them. “Can I meet this Thomas guy? I feel like that might answer at least a couple of questions.”
Newt shrugs. “Sure, why not. He’s around back, probably in the Deadheads. Those are the woods, by the way,” he clarifies upon seeing your confused look.
Minho scratches the back of his head. “I’m sure you’ll find him fairly easily. The two of you certainly seem well enough connected for that.”
You’re not sure quite what he means by that, but he’s not entirely wrong. You’re restless to do something, so you swing your legs off of the hospital cot you were lying on before and make your way out of the building.
The sun is blinding in the sky, and you have to raise a hand to block out some of its brilliance. You spot a low crop of trees nearby, and start to make your way across a grassy field. There are other boys dressed similarly to Minho and Newt all around you, working in various areas. They all pretend not to stare, but you can feel their eyes pinned to you as you walk.
The shade of the scraggly woods is a blessing, both from the brightness of the sun and for protection from the others’ eyes. You head further into the twisting thickets, and soon enough, the voice in your head makes itself known yet again.
Do you know who I am?
You answer out loud this time. “Thomas.”
When you turn around, a boy is standing behind you, hand raised as he ducks underneath a low hanging branch to get closer to you. He feels familiar, somehow, like passing somebody in a hallway when you swear you’ve seen them before.
He’s studying you, and you realize that you must be doing the same.
“You said my name was Y/N?” You ask, just to fill the silence.
Thomas nods hesitantly. “I don’t know how I knew it, I just did. You’re my–” he breaks off, then tries again a moment later to no success. “We’re–”
You answer before you realize what you’re doing. “You’re my brother,” you try, and somehow it feels right.
Thomas’ eyes clear. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s right. I didn’t realize we could talk to each other in our heads until about an hour ago. It’s like I could feel you coming up in the Box. I don’t know how to explain it, but I did.”
You nod. “I can feel you know. In my head.”
Your voice cracks on the last word. You don’t know what this is, some sort of sick game or cruel joke, but you’re in the middle of a massive maze without any memories and someone able to talk to you in your mind. This is wrong. You don’t know who put you there, who the Creators are or what they did to you, and all of this not-knowingness is eating away at you like acid on bone.
Thomas’ hand twitches, like he wants to reach out to you then thinks the better of it. “Listen, I know how this seems. It’s bad, right? Very bad. It gets better, though. Promise. The guys here are nice for the most part, they’ll help you fit in. You’ve got me, too, if that means anything.”
You let a hesitant smile spread across your face. “I’m starting to think that it does.”
As it turns out, having Thomas means everything to you. Sure, the Glade is still a mess of confusion and danger, but you’ve got friends, and you’ve got your brother. You’re certain that he is your brother, more certain than you are that there is a way out of the Maze or that you will someday know a life outside of these walls.
The mental connection is strange, immediately, but it works. You and Thomas are able to exchange casual comments throughout the day, something that’s extremely useful when the two of you start working on opposite sides of the Glade.
And, when one day turns bad and Minho and Alby don’t manage to make it through the Doors before they close, you get to watch as Thomas throws himself through the shrinking gap in the stone walls. You reach for him with Newt, you come up short just like Newt. Thus you stand before the impassive stone, and for the first time you wish that the mental connection wasn’t there so you won’t have to feel a sudden, all-encompassing emptiness and know that Thomas is dead.
That emptiness never comes, though. A few hours later, Thomas dares talk to you, although his communications are few and far between as he’s running for his life against the Grievers. He sounds terrified, but you’re able to give him directions when he needs it. No one asks why you’re in the Map Room at midnight, and no one needs to know. You hear Thomas say where he is, and you tell him where to go. No other explanations are needed.
You’re able to hear Thomas in your head the whole night, but you don’t feel yourself relax until the first threads of dawn begin to wind themselves about the Glade, pulling and tugging at all of you. It’s time to start a new day, and when morning finally rises, it finds you standing at the Doors with Newt, Chuck, and the others.
Thomas isn’t there at first, not when the Doors first open. You stay, though. You can hear Thomas whispering that he’s almost there, and if there’s one person you trust, it’s your brother. That’s why you’re smiling even before he rounds the corner and comes into view, why you know it’s going to be alright in the darkest night. He’s your brother, and that means you will never have to be alone.
