i was warming up to get my stuff together so i wrote this super short newt x reader/y/n. if you want to see more pls lmk
“Come on, Greenie! Have a little fun! Lighten up!” You heard a vaguely familiar voice call from across the Glade. You ignored him and continued on your path to the Homestead. It’s not so much that you weren’t in the mood for the bonfire, which was apparently being thrown in your honor, but more so that you were tired of the stares. And cat calls.
You slammed your hands into the front door and it flew open with a small bang, startling the two boys standing at the foot of the stairs, chatting. Since you were the sole girl living in the Glade, without hesitation the leaders quickly gave you your own space in the Homestead; much to your fellow Glader’s chagrin. Without a word to either boy, you padded up the stairs and into your room, shutting the door behind you. Not even a minute later, there was a soft knock at the door.
“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice asked. You were sitting beside your bookshelf, sorting through a few of your favorites, ignoring the boy in the doorway. “I know you can hear me. I’m standing right here.” He opened the door the rest of the way without acknowledgement from you and sat beside you.
“Newt, if this visit is in regards to the bonfire, I am not interested.”
“Come on, (Y/N)! It’s supposed to be FUN. It’s supposed to be a celebration, in your honor!” He favored his bad leg.
“You know exactly what’s going to happen, the same thing that has been happening the entire week. Everyone is going to get drunk and make disgusting comments, catcall me, play grabass. They do it when they’re sober, I can’t imagine how they’re going to be drunk,” You stared out into the Glade.
“Alby’s giving those shanks a talking to as we speak, love. They are not gonna lay a finger anywhere near you.” He offered a half smile. You couldn’t help but smile back. Something about Newt’s aloof, small smile always brought a smile to your face, even if you didn’t want to. “There you go.” He muttered softly.
He stood up, offering his hand. You took it after a second’s hesitation and allowed him to lead you downstairs. You couldn’t help but blush at the prolonged contact.
My eyes are squeezed shut. I scream out in pain when my body hits the glass beneath me. The force winds me, and I cough frantically for a minute or so.
I whisper to myself. “Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.”
I suddenly hear voices, causing me to jump. I hear footsteps running, and then the sound of metal crashing. Two faces look down from a hole above me. One of them is a short-haired girl, and the other, a boy. They look surprised when they see me. I probably look the same, my eyes widening.
“They aren’t a crank!”
“How do you know?! We can’t save everyone, Thomas.”
There’s a pause. “We can try. We can’t just leave her/him here.”
The glass beneath me starts to crack. I can hear the deathly sound, though I force myself to not look down. My breathing picks up, and I call the pair, desperate. “Help me!”
“I’m coming! Hang on!” Thomas suddenly drops through the hole. He grabs on to any piece of rubble he can on his way down to me. “Don’t move!”
When he finally reaches me, I reach up with my hand, and I stretch out my arm, but the shift in weight causes the glass to crack further. “Oh! Shit!”
“Come on! You can reach!”
I keep trying. Just as I connect with the pads of Thomas’ fingertips, the glass cracks again before it breaks completely. I scream. Thomas is quick, though. He kneels down at just the right moment and catches my wrist.
“I’ve got you!” I reach with my other hand and grip his tightly. “I’ve got you!” He repeats.
-
After Thomas and Brenda had quickly introduced themselves and then led me out of the crumbling building, we made it to a small alleyway in what would have been a town.
“Are you hurt?” Thomas kneels in front of me. I’m sitting on the ground, gratefully sipping water from a flask.
“Surprisingly.. no. I think I’m okay. Thanks to you.” Thomas doesn’t say anything. He just looks me over a few times: as if inspecting for injuries. “I’m not infected, or bit.. or scratched… I promise.”
“It’s not that.. just.. I can’t help thinking- I mean..”
“Thank God, you found me when you did?” Thomas smiles, but it’s so small, you’d barely notice. He nods. “Yeah.”
“Thank you. So much… again.” I don’t even think before I throw my arms around him. I’m even more surprised when he actually hugs me back.
“We don’t ever leave people behind.” He mutters against my ear as he tightens his arms around my waist.
I smile against his shoulder. “Does that mean I get to tag along?”
A/N: This has to be my longest piece ever! I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. There could be a few mistakes in there both in English and Italian, sorry in advance. I loved writing this, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but I am a perfectionist and I have rewritten this about 5 times. I just needed to post it now!
Pairing: OC!Diana Bianchi & Damiano David
Words: 3k
Warning(s): swearing, drinking, smoking (I mean it’s the 70s…), smoking weed, my Italian (I have been studying this beautiful language for three years now but people make mistakes)
West Hollywood, California // Mid-January 1972
Red eyes.
Sweaty foreheads.
That is all Diana would see when they screamed at her. “CAN I GET TWO BEERS AND A COKE PLEASE?!”
Working behind the bar was not her dream job. Diana remembered it like it was yesterday, she and her friend Tami had gone to The Troubadour to celebrate the weekend when she saw a “help wanted” poster. It was a godsend. Diana applied there and then and not long after she found herself behind the bar, handing out drinks to people who looked like they were having the best time of their lives. Another plus side was the fact that she could attend the concerts of all the artists and bands for free.
Obviously, there were also downsides to this job. For example, Diana couldn’t go out and live her teenage years. She isn’t allowed to drink (too much) on the job and the hours aren’t exactly great. The pay is okay though and the tips are even better. Half of the people don’t even know how much they are giving and walk off like they didn’t just hand you 20 for an eight dollar drink. She doesn’t complain much about her job but she does feel left behind sometimes. Like when Tami or her other friend chat about some weird adventure they had the night before and who they met or kissed. Diana felt like she missed out on a lot of things but she had no other choice.
Her parents had kicked her out when she was 15. Diana moved in with her grandmother and lived with her for a while until she passed away. She has been living alone in her grandmother’s old apartment ever since. A few friends had moved in with her but then moved out again when they had found a better place to live. So it was just Diana paying the rent for the place.
“CAN I GET A RUM AND COKE?!” Diana gets snapped out of her thoughts. Shit, what did he want?! She thinks to herself as she stares at the intoxicated man. “SORRY?!” She shouts back over the loud music. At least she had another reason for not hearing the man. “RUM AND COKE!” That is all the man yells before turning his band to her so he could face the stage. Some weird indie band is playing tonight. Diana wasn’t really into it and honestly couldn’t wait until her boss would send her home for the night. She puts in a little less rum, the man will probably not even taste the difference.
The band had stopped playing somewhere around two a.m. However not all the guests had left around 2.30 which is something Diana hated the most. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job but after so many hours standing on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to clean up, go home and get into her warm bed.
“Diana, can you come here for a minute?” her boss asked. What was that tone, was he going to fire her?! “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Pfew. Diana walked behind him into his office.
“What can I help you with, Doug?” She asked as she sat down in the very comfortable chair across from him. Doug Weston had somewhat become her parent over the last few years that she had worked here. He was always so kind to her and could always ask him for help if she needed him.
“I want to get more bands from across the sea. I want interesting people and not just the same bands playing over and over again. New talent that no one has heard of before but will become known because of this place. Inspire new talent, you know?” He was rambling on with his sales pitch as if you had any input, it was his place after all. “And seeing that you can speak more languages than I have ever could, I was wondering if you could write small pieces for newspapers in Europe that will inspire these artists to come here and get all the fame and fortune they want.”
“Sure, Doug. You know I would do anything to help this place… and you of course”, Diana said while a wide grin spread on her face. She felt like she was moving up when in reality it wasn’t a new job position. She would do anything to not have the same indie bands playing almost every night. Diana would never have imagined that she would change the lives of four individuals barely six months later, and change her own life along with it.
Rome, Italy // Mid-March 1972
“The Troubadour. The place where artists and bands from all over the world can make it or break it in the United States. It all depends on the crowd. If they love you, you can come back for an entire week! If not you will receive the money for that evening but sadly you won’t be allowed back. It’s always packed with record executives so you could get a sweet record deal out of this experience. Do you have what it takes? Sign up and good luck to everyone competing in the battle of the bands! – D. B.” Damiano finishes reading. “Ragazzi, I honestly cannot wait till we get to play there! It’s going to be veramente stupendo!”
“Bene Damiano, calm yourself. It’s less than five months away. We still have to play in this dump to even afford to go. We barely have enough money for a motel, we don’t even have the plane tickets yet!” Classic Victoria, always worrying as if she is the mother of the group. “Calmati Victoria, noi staremo bene”, Ethan jumps in. “Let’s get back to practising before we start another fight, sì?” The rest nods their head and pick up their instruments. “I was thinking, should we start with I wanna be your slave oppuro no? Is it too much?” Damiano suggest. “Oh, and for outfits, I have a few ideas?!” Thomas adds like a little kid who is excited for Christmas day. “Positivo, let’s look at those after practice”, Damiano says. Not even ten minutes later they had many up a little setlist. It was a battle of the bands so they had to at least practice 4-5 songs to play against other bands. Then if they were allowed to come back they had to prepare yet another 6 songs on top of those 5 they had already played. They could do it, they had enough songs in their database but were they going to sing their Italian songs or did they have to translate them? The members of Måneskin weren’t sure yet. Luckily for them, they had four months to think about it.
West Hollywood, California // Mid-July 1972
Diana hadn’t even woken up yet, but on the other side of the city, Måneskin had arrived at the airport. “Finalmente ci siamo. Ce l’abbiamo fatta!” Thomas exclaims. Damiano chuckles and throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. “Slow down, loverboy. We have not made it yet. We landed yes, but we have a long way to go from here to that stage tonight.” “How every grown-up of you, Damiano”, Victoria teases. “I bet with Ethan that you would follow the first American girl that you saw in this airport and that we wouldn’t see you until much later.” “Ha ha, molto divertente, Victoria. Sei una persona così divertente.” They continue their bickering whilst Ethan collects all of their suitcases. “Addiamo?” He finally asks the group, they all agree and make their way through the busy airport to the designated taxi area. During this, they complain about how crowded it is and how much the air smells. It is nothing like their own country but you have to take chances if you want to become famous like their dream.
Later that day
Doug had told Diana to come into work later than she usually would. It was going to be a busy night and he’d rather have her work during the performances than during the day and wear her out. So here she was around six-thirty instead of two o’clock. It felt so weird because usually when she arrives there is no line out front and now there was one to the end of the block. She passed all the people waiting in line, hearing them complain and moan as she walks up to Mario, the bouncer. He doesn’t even need to see her worker-id, as she walks in he wishes her good luck with tonight. She liked Mario, he was working here before she came and even then he had told her if she ever needed anything him and his wife had an extra bed for her. Honestly, the sweetest guy… also the toughest guy you will ever meet.
As Diana walked to the changing area to hang her coat and bag, she ran into a few participants of tonight’s show. She greeted most of them but they were too busy with themselves, the fame they hadn’t even earned yet was already rising to their heads. Before she could make her way to the bar, Doug called her over.
“Diana, come here for a second. I want to introduce you to a few people.” Classic Doug, always introducing everybody to everybody. If he believed you could make it, he would introduce you to all his workers. However, the bands did not know this, the workers would treat them a little extra. “They are from Italy as well!” As if Diana herself had moved for their, it was actually her grandparents. She could speak a little Italian but other than her last name, there was nothing Italian about her. Doug briefly introduced the members of Måneskin to Diana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off a certain member. To be quite honest she had not remembered everyone’s names and she stumbled to get her name out of her mouth. All because she was already head over heels with this handsome, tall, young Italian man.
After a couple of introduction, Diana was finally behind her bar, her safe space. Meeting Damiano had made her weak in her knees, she had never had a reaction like this before. She didn’t really pay attention to the competitors and focused on serving the people but when it was Måneskin’s turn, she started to lose focus on her work.
During most of their setlist, Damiano kept glancing over to Diana and winking at her. Or at least that’s what it felt like for Diana. However, after a rather sexy song (let’s be real most of them are) he kissed one of his male bandmates on the mouth. Now Diana is not one to judge people on who they love. She reasons that everyone should love who they want to love and receive love because of it. It wasn’t that she hated it, it kind of turned her on, but she was very confused. Had she read the signs wrong? Were there even any signs to begin with? At times like these she wanted to ask Tami for help yet she was afraid that if Tami came and tried to help her that somehow Tami’s charm would work on Damiano and Diana would still end up with nothing. No, she had to do this on her own, she decided.
After the battle of the bands was over, a few stayed behind to talk with record labels about future arrangements. Diana started cleaning up, and washing and drying a few glasses, secretly listening in on a few conversations.
“I liked what I saw out there. Let your agent call me and we will discuss your expansion in the United States.” Well, that sounded very good. Diana turned around to see who the band was that this man was talking to, but when she turned around she looked right into Damiano’s eyes.
“I have been trying to get your attention all night”, he says shyly. “Really? I thought so but I wasn’t sure”, Diana responds. Damiano raises his hand and scratches behind his head. “I was wondering, you know. If maybe- ugh. Perchè è cosi difficile?” He mutters, not looking Diana in the eyes. “Provalo in Italiano?” she suggests and Damiano’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. “Cazzo. Parli Italiano?” He looks even more nervous now. “Si, parlo Italiano.” He laughs at her answer. “Vuoi uscire domani sera?” Diana nods her head, she honestly cannot stop smiling. “I’d love to go out with you. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel? That would be easier than you trying to find my house.” “Yeah, sure. We’re staying at the Millwood Motel, it’s not too far from the airport.” “Ah yes, I know that place. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans over and kisses her cheek before leaving her to finish her work.
That night Diana barely slept. Did Damiano know any places here to take her to? Did she have to come up with a place? What if he was some weird guy? What if he was a murderer?! She sure was happy now that she didn’t give him her address. The following day she woke up around noon. She went to the kitchen and grabbed her Cona coffee maker, if she was to get through the day, she was going to need a big cup of coffee. She put water and coffee ground on the lower half of the pot and put it on the stove. She hated having to watch the coffee boil and couldn’t wait for better times when you would just have to push a button to get your coffee.
Seeing that she woke up around noon, it didn’t take long before Diana met up with Damiano. She asked him if he had anything specific in mind. Surprisingly, he did. He explained that he and his bandmates did a little sightseeing and they walked past a roller skating rink. Damiano always wanted to try that and he thought this would be perfect for their little date. Diana absolutely loved the idea and couldn’t wait till they got there.
Both of them were sad that the night had ended so quickly or so they thought. It was in fact 1 a.m. and they had already spend ten hours together. Diana brought Damiano back to the motel with her car and of course he couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on her lips. They kissed for a while before finally letting each other go. “We’ll be leaving soon”, Damiano said and looked at their intertwined hands in his lap. “Already? You just got here two days ago”, Diana complained. She just met him and now he is leaving already? She wasn’t prepared for that. She knew he was leaving at some point, he had to he didn’t live in the US, but still she had hoped for a little more time together. “Maybe we’ll come back soon. We have a meeting with our agent and that record label guy tomorrow.” “Could we meet up after? We should catch dinner together, I have another day off”, she suggested. Damiano agreed, kissed her one more time before leaving her car and making his way to his motel room.
The next day
Diana waited for Damiano in front of a large building. She was enjoying the sun on her face when she felt two arms coming from behind and hugging her on her stomach. “Ciao, amore mio. Sei adorabile oggi”, Damiano said into her ear before kissing the side of her face. “Ciao, you don’t look to bad yourself”, she said as she turned around. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, his mates cheering them on in the background. “How did it go in there?” With that question Damiano’s face broke out in a wide grin. “What?” “Amore, we’re staying here in the US. We got a record deal, we will be here for the entire year!” he shouts and all five of them jump in celebration. “I was going to tell you at dinner, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. We can be together, amore.” Diana broke out in tears, nodding her head, for she had never met a man who she loved more than Damiano. Her Italian lover boy.
A/N: This has to be my longest piece ever! I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. There could be a few mistakes in there both in English and Italian, sorry in advance. I loved writing this, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but I am a perfectionist and I have rewritten this about 5 times. I just needed to post it now!
Pairing: OC!Diana Bianchi & Damiano David
Words: 3k
Warning(s): swearing, drinking, smoking (I mean it’s the 70s…), smoking weed, my Italian (I have been studying this beautiful language for three years now but people make mistakes)
West Hollywood, California // Mid-January 1972
Red eyes.
Sweaty foreheads.
That is all Diana would see when they screamed at her. “CAN I GET TWO BEERS AND A COKE PLEASE?!”
Working behind the bar was not her dream job. Diana remembered it like it was yesterday, she and her friend Tami had gone to The Troubadour to celebrate the weekend when she saw a “help wanted” poster. It was a godsend. Diana applied there and then and not long after she found herself behind the bar, handing out drinks to people who looked like they were having the best time of their lives. Another plus side was the fact that she could attend the concerts of all the artists and bands for free.
Obviously, there were also downsides to this job. For example, Diana couldn’t go out and live her teenage years. She isn’t allowed to drink (too much) on the job and the hours aren’t exactly great. The pay is okay though and the tips are even better. Half of the people don’t even know how much they are giving and walk off like they didn’t just hand you 20 for an eight dollar drink. She doesn’t complain much about her job but she does feel left behind sometimes. Like when Tami or her other friend chat about some weird adventure they had the night before and who they met or kissed. Diana felt like she missed out on a lot of things but she had no other choice.
Her parents had kicked her out when she was 15. Diana moved in with her grandmother and lived with her for a while until she passed away. She has been living alone in her grandmother’s old apartment ever since. A few friends had moved in with her but then moved out again when they had found a better place to live. So it was just Diana paying the rent for the place.
“CAN I GET A RUM AND COKE?!” Diana gets snapped out of her thoughts. Shit, what did he want?! She thinks to herself as she stares at the intoxicated man. “SORRY?!” She shouts back over the loud music. At least she had another reason for not hearing the man. “RUM AND COKE!” That is all the man yells before turning his band to her so he could face the stage. Some weird indie band is playing tonight. Diana wasn’t really into it and honestly couldn’t wait until her boss would send her home for the night. She puts in a little less rum, the man will probably not even taste the difference.
The band had stopped playing somewhere around two a.m. However not all the guests had left around 2.30 which is something Diana hated the most. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job but after so many hours standing on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to clean up, go home and get into her warm bed.
“Diana, can you come here for a minute?” her boss asked. What was that tone, was he going to fire her?! “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Pfew. Diana walked behind him into his office.
“What can I help you with, Doug?” She asked as she sat down in the very comfortable chair across from him. Doug Weston had somewhat become her parent over the last few years that she had worked here. He was always so kind to her and could always ask him for help if she needed him.
“I want to get more bands from across the sea. I want interesting people and not just the same bands playing over and over again. New talent that no one has heard of before but will become known because of this place. Inspire new talent, you know?” He was rambling on with his sales pitch as if you had any input, it was his place after all. “And seeing that you can speak more languages than I have ever could, I was wondering if you could write small pieces for newspapers in Europe that will inspire these artists to come here and get all the fame and fortune they want.”
“Sure, Doug. You know I would do anything to help this place… and you of course”, Diana said while a wide grin spread on her face. She felt like she was moving up when in reality it wasn’t a new job position. She would do anything to not have the same indie bands playing almost every night. Diana would never have imagined that she would change the lives of four individuals barely six months later, and change her own life along with it.
Rome, Italy // Mid-March 1972
“The Troubadour. The place where artists and bands from all over the world can make it or break it in the United States. It all depends on the crowd. If they love you, you can come back for an entire week! If not you will receive the money for that evening but sadly you won’t be allowed back. It’s always packed with record executives so you could get a sweet record deal out of this experience. Do you have what it takes? Sign up and good luck to everyone competing in the battle of the bands! – D. B.” Damiano finishes reading. “Ragazzi, I honestly cannot wait till we get to play there! It’s going to be veramente stupendo!”
“Bene Damiano, calm yourself. It’s less than five months away. We still have to play in this dump to even afford to go. We barely have enough money for a motel, we don’t even have the plane tickets yet!” Classic Victoria, always worrying as if she is the mother of the group. “Calmati Victoria, noi staremo bene”, Ethan jumps in. “Let’s get back to practising before we start another fight, sì?” The rest nods their head and pick up their instruments. “I was thinking, should we start with I wanna be your slave oppuro no? Is it too much?” Damiano suggest. “Oh, and for outfits, I have a few ideas?!” Thomas adds like a little kid who is excited for Christmas day. “Positivo, let’s look at those after practice”, Damiano says. Not even ten minutes later they had many up a little setlist. It was a battle of the bands so they had to at least practice 4-5 songs to play against other bands. Then if they were allowed to come back they had to prepare yet another 6 songs on top of those 5 they had already played. They could do it, they had enough songs in their database but were they going to sing their Italian songs or did they have to translate them? The members of Måneskin weren’t sure yet. Luckily for them, they had four months to think about it.
West Hollywood, California // Mid-July 1972
Diana hadn’t even woken up yet, but on the other side of the city, Måneskin had arrived at the airport. “Finalmente ci siamo. Ce l’abbiamo fatta!” Thomas exclaims. Damiano chuckles and throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. “Slow down, loverboy. We have not made it yet. We landed yes, but we have a long way to go from here to that stage tonight.” “How every grown-up of you, Damiano”, Victoria teases. “I bet with Ethan that you would follow the first American girl that you saw in this airport and that we wouldn’t see you until much later.” “Ha ha, molto divertente, Victoria. Sei una persona così divertente.” They continue their bickering whilst Ethan collects all of their suitcases. “Addiamo?” He finally asks the group, they all agree and make their way through the busy airport to the designated taxi area. During this, they complain about how crowded it is and how much the air smells. It is nothing like their own country but you have to take chances if you want to become famous like their dream.
Later that day
Doug had told Diana to come into work later than she usually would. It was going to be a busy night and he’d rather have her work during the performances than during the day and wear her out. So here she was around six-thirty instead of two o’clock. It felt so weird because usually when she arrives there is no line out front and now there was one to the end of the block. She passed all the people waiting in line, hearing them complain and moan as she walks up to Mario, the bouncer. He doesn’t even need to see her worker-id, as she walks in he wishes her good luck with tonight. She liked Mario, he was working here before she came and even then he had told her if she ever needed anything him and his wife had an extra bed for her. Honestly, the sweetest guy… also the toughest guy you will ever meet.
As Diana walked to the changing area to hang her coat and bag, she ran into a few participants of tonight’s show. She greeted most of them but they were too busy with themselves, the fame they hadn’t even earned yet was already rising to their heads. Before she could make her way to the bar, Doug called her over.
“Diana, come here for a second. I want to introduce you to a few people.” Classic Doug, always introducing everybody to everybody. If he believed you could make it, he would introduce you to all his workers. However, the bands did not know this, the workers would treat them a little extra. “They are from Italy as well!” As if Diana herself had moved for their, it was actually her grandparents. She could speak a little Italian but other than her last name, there was nothing Italian about her. Doug briefly introduced the members of Måneskin to Diana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off a certain member. To be quite honest she had not remembered everyone’s names and she stumbled to get her name out of her mouth. All because she was already head over heels with this handsome, tall, young Italian man.
After a couple of introduction, Diana was finally behind her bar, her safe space. Meeting Damiano had made her weak in her knees, she had never had a reaction like this before. She didn’t really pay attention to the competitors and focused on serving the people but when it was Måneskin’s turn, she started to lose focus on her work.
During most of their setlist, Damiano kept glancing over to Diana and winking at her. Or at least that’s what it felt like for Diana. However, after a rather sexy song (let’s be real most of them are) he kissed one of his male bandmates on the mouth. Now Diana is not one to judge people on who they love. She reasons that everyone should love who they want to love and receive love because of it. It wasn’t that she hated it, it kind of turned her on, but she was very confused. Had she read the signs wrong? Were there even any signs to begin with? At times like these she wanted to ask Tami for help yet she was afraid that if Tami came and tried to help her that somehow Tami’s charm would work on Damiano and Diana would still end up with nothing. No, she had to do this on her own, she decided.
After the battle of the bands was over, a few stayed behind to talk with record labels about future arrangements. Diana started cleaning up, and washing and drying a few glasses, secretly listening in on a few conversations.
“I liked what I saw out there. Let your agent call me and we will discuss your expansion in the United States.” Well, that sounded very good. Diana turned around to see who the band was that this man was talking to, but when she turned around she looked right into Damiano’s eyes.
“I have been trying to get your attention all night”, he says shyly. “Really? I thought so but I wasn’t sure”, Diana responds. Damiano raises his hand and scratches behind his head. “I was wondering, you know. If maybe- ugh. Perchè è cosi difficile?” He mutters, not looking Diana in the eyes. “Provalo in Italiano?” she suggests and Damiano’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. “Cazzo. Parli Italiano?” He looks even more nervous now. “Si, parlo Italiano.” He laughs at her answer. “Vuoi uscire domani sera?” Diana nods her head, she honestly cannot stop smiling. “I’d love to go out with you. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel? That would be easier than you trying to find my house.” “Yeah, sure. We’re staying at the Millwood Motel, it’s not too far from the airport.” “Ah yes, I know that place. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans over and kisses her cheek before leaving her to finish her work.
That night Diana barely slept. Did Damiano know any places here to take her to? Did she have to come up with a place? What if he was some weird guy? What if he was a murderer?! She sure was happy now that she didn’t give him her address. The following day she woke up around noon. She went to the kitchen and grabbed her Cona coffee maker, if she was to get through the day, she was going to need a big cup of coffee. She put water and coffee ground on the lower half of the pot and put it on the stove. She hated having to watch the coffee boil and couldn’t wait for better times when you would just have to push a button to get your coffee.
Seeing that she woke up around noon, it didn’t take long before Diana met up with Damiano. She asked him if he had anything specific in mind. Surprisingly, he did. He explained that he and his bandmates did a little sightseeing and they walked past a roller skating rink. Damiano always wanted to try that and he thought this would be perfect for their little date. Diana absolutely loved the idea and couldn’t wait till they got there.
Both of them were sad that the night had ended so quickly or so they thought. It was in fact 1 a.m. and they had already spend ten hours together. Diana brought Damiano back to the motel with her car and of course he couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on her lips. They kissed for a while before finally letting each other go. “We’ll be leaving soon”, Damiano said and looked at their intertwined hands in his lap. “Already? You just got here two days ago”, Diana complained. She just met him and now he is leaving already? She wasn’t prepared for that. She knew he was leaving at some point, he had to he didn’t live in the US, but still she had hoped for a little more time together. “Maybe we’ll come back soon. We have a meeting with our agent and that record label guy tomorrow.” “Could we meet up after? We should catch dinner together, I have another day off”, she suggested. Damiano agreed, kissed her one more time before leaving her car and making his way to his motel room.
The next day
Diana waited for Damiano in front of a large building. She was enjoying the sun on her face when she felt two arms coming from behind and hugging her on her stomach. “Ciao, amore mio. Sei adorabile oggi”, Damiano said into her ear before kissing the side of her face. “Ciao, you don’t look to bad yourself”, she said as she turned around. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, his mates cheering them on in the background. “How did it go in there?” With that question Damiano’s face broke out in a wide grin. “What?” “Amore, we’re staying here in the US. We got a record deal, we will be here for the entire year!” he shouts and all five of them jump in celebration. “I was going to tell you at dinner, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. We can be together, amore.” Diana broke out in tears, nodding her head, for she had never met a man who she loved more than Damiano. Her Italian lover boy.
I grinned a little as a tear fell down the side of my face. I couldn’t even feel the hard floor under me, the pieces of metal and dirt sticking to my uncovered skin, but I couldn’t really feel it.
“What are you smiling for?” I did my best to turn my head to the side, looking at the boy who glanced at me with a smile but mixed feeling in those deep brown eyes. His dirty blonde hair seemed even dirtier. I grimaced. He looked skinnier. But all of us were. Stress and fear were things that could make you lose a vast quantity of weight.
“I,” I paused, taking a breath. “I was thinking of the first time I met you.”
Newt shook his head, his dirty hair not moving softly like it used to do. “Bloody hell,” A tiny laugh escaped through his lips. How long has it been since I heard him laugh? “I was so mean to you.” I nodded my head, hiding the gasp that pleaded to escape. “But you did put me in my place as always.”
“You were so mean just because I was new to the maze?” I always wanted to ask. Newt is a sweet person, and as soon as I saw him, I knew there were hidden motives.
He shook his head. “I thought if I treated you like that, the other would do the same and ignore you. We tried doing the same thing with Teresa.” I grimaced at the mention of the brown-haired girl. “We were a little worried that the other boys would try to do something because you both were the only girls.”
“But you couldn’t resist me.” I tried to wink, my entire body aching. Newt got closer to where I was lying down on the ground. His fingers went to my hair, fingers intertwined with some locks that had knots.
“No one could.” He offered me a sad smile. “Why?” I had tried to converse with him as much as I could, not wanting that conversation to come out. “Why did you do it?”
“You don’t deserve it.” Newt bit his lower lip, swallowing and glancing to the side, blinking as much as he could, attempting to hide his wet eyes. “You are like my big brother. I wanted to save you.”
“You are like my little sister.” He answered back. “It is me who should be saving you.”
“You already saved me.” He flinched, remembering that time when we were back inside the maze. A time where I was confused, lost and scared and did my best to take myself out of the maze…without actually entering it. Newt found me in the forest, unconscious. However, I remember his screams, asking, no, pleading for help. “Hey, Newt?” He hummed, using his stained jacket to dab his tears. “Do you think he will arrive on time?” Newt immediately looked at me, eyes widened. Minho had walked closer, exactly when I had questioned the blonde boy. "Will he?“
"He always arrives on time.” Minho decided to answer while resting a hand on Newt’s shoulder, who glanced at him while offering him a shake of his head. “But there is nothing for what he has to arrive on time.” He clenched his teeth, trying to convince himself because he knew he wasn’t going to convince me.
I shivered. Minho and Newt took their jackets a the same time. However, it was Minho who placed his on top of my chest, trying to calm my trembling body. “I hope he arrives on time.” I stopped looking at them, glancing at the dark sky above me. “And I hope he is safe.”
“We are talking about Thomas.” Minho interrupted. “He is always on time, and he is always okay.”
“He won’t be.” I choked, glancing at them. “He won’t be okay.” My mouth was dry, but as much water as I drank, it still seemed like my throat was closing, obstructing my breathing. “You guys…need to be there for him, okay?” I nodded my head a little bit. “Don’t let him…” My eyes closed for a couple of seconds.
“Hey, hey.” Newt. It was Newt voice and his fingers touching my wet cheeks. When did I start crying? “Hey. Bloody hell, Y/N. C'mon.”
My eyes opened again. “Don’t let him blame himself.”
“He won’t blame himself because everything will be okay.” Minho insisted, his left hand cradling the back of my head as he helped me sit, resting at the head of the water bottle on my lips, aiding me so I could drink.
“I appreciate the positivity, Minho.” And the water. “But it’s bad. It’s really bad.” My fingers gripped Minho’s jacket, taking it off my chest. Both gasped, not having noticed that the black veins that were only on my hands and arms were now getting closer to my chest. “It’s so close.” To my heart. Both boys glanced at each other. Minho was the first one. He was the first one to broke down as his knees fell forcefully on the ground. His head between his hands. I tried not to cry more, but as soon as Newt also wailed like a little kid, I did too. “Hey, guys…” I cried. “C'mon, guys. It’s okay.” They didn’t listen, consumed by their shaking bodies as they cried, as they hoped for the cure to come in time. But even if it did, it was too late. I knew it was either Newt or me. Only one could get the cure, and I decided that it had to be Newt.
My heart ached because Thomas had convinced himself that it didn’t matter who took the cure first because he would come back with another for the other.
“My God, I’m so lonely.” I started singing with the limited strength that I had. Both boys glanced at me while still crying. They remembered the song. The song I used to sing every day since I entered the maze. The only thing I remembered apart from my name. They always thought it was a melancholy song, and whenever I sang it, they would change the lyrics, afraid of thinking that perhaps those were my true feeling. They were. They were before I found they were the only family I needed.
“So I open the window,” Newt’s voice cracked, following me. Even if he wanted to have hope, he knew how difficult things were and how I was near closing my eyes forever. “To hear sounds of people.” He sang while still crying. “To hear sounds of people,” Minho begged us to stop, to keep quiet. He begged us to lie to him and tell him that I was going to be okay. With time, they would be okay. I wouldn’t. “Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming. Did its people want too much too?” Yes, we wanted too much. They wanted too much. They wanted for the cure to come on time and to magically cure me. “Did its people want too much?” His saddened gaze met mine as I nodded.
Minho continued weeping, screaming even. “And I don’t want your pity.” My voice cracked as my gaze moved to him. The boy still was convinced that he could save everyone. “I just want somebody near me.” He shook his head, droplets of tears falling down his cheeks. “Guess I’m a coward.” I continued singing as Newt turned his head around, getting up from his seat on the ground and running towards someone. “I just want to feel alright.” I finally glanced at the blonde-haired boy who had run towards Thomas. He had come on time. Well, for Newt and Minho, ‘on time’ was for me to be saved. For me, it was on time to see me go.
Thomas and Newt had gotten close so quickly that I was pretty sure that the boy I deeply loved knew what was going on. “And I know no one will save me.” That line seemed perfect to say at that moment as Thomas shook his head, aggressively weeping his tears as he sat down on the ground. His trembling hands, searching for my veins as he injected the cure. Then, he waited. He waited for the black veins to fade. They didn’t. Both boys hoped too. Perhaps Minho wasn’t the only one who dreamed of a future where I would be alive. I coughed, feeling my throat contracting again. I could feel the muscles from my right side colliding with the ones on my left side. Glancing at my chest, the veins were even closer than before. “I just need someone to kiss.” Thomas hit the wall behind me, the wall that was supporting my weight. Tears fell down our eyes, wetting our cheeks and leaving a salty taste in our mouths. But not as sour as the moment where I would close my eyes. “Give me one good honest kiss, and I’ll be alright.”
.
Thomas shook his head, not making his mind up, not being able to comprehend that the person he loved was dying. With the remaining strength that I had, my fringers grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to me. “Nobody, nobody, nobody,” He quickly shut me up, his lips softly colliding with mine. It wasn’t like those heated kisses we had when one of us had been in danger or when one of us was mad and needed release. It wasn’t one of those 'good morning’ kisses or a 'good night’ one. It conveyed all the things we have gone through. It bore the fact that we had dreamt of a future together. We have talked about houses, kids, gardens and dogs. We have spoken about living close to Minho and Newt, which they claimed would be a disaster.
Thomas’s lips separated from the ones he had loved kissing every day. He parted ways because they weren’t softly moving against his anymore, and that was when he noticed that the eyes of the woman he loved were closed. There was a peaceful look on her face, no pain.
Minho and Newt had left him alone, moving away as they continued weeping, but knowing that he needed some time to examine her face. To make sure that he would remember everything. However, he had lost other people, and eventually, he would forget the tone of her voice.
Thomas got up, getting away from Y/N, turning his back to her as he continued wiping. He was surprised as his legs trembled but still supported all his weight. “I’ve been big and small.” He whispered to himself. “And big and small.” His voice continued cracking. “And big and small, again. And still, nobody wants me. Still, nobody wants me.” He knew that sound. He recognised the growls of someone turning, of someone not being themselves anymore. And when he turned around, his gaze met a pair of eyes that were lifeless. “And I know no one will save me.” He choked, stepping back as she stepped forward. He couldn’t kill her. Had he already killed her? Why didn’t he run faster? “I’m just asking for a kiss. Give me one good movie kiss, and I’ll be alright.”
“Nobody.” Y/N grunted before growling once again. Her body fell to the ground. Thomas had shot her. Thomas was assured he had killed her two times.
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.
