#IT WAS ALL THERE DASHNER WHY

[fluffypotatey]

*vibrating in place* OH OKAY SO WE HAVE THE SAME THOUGHTS ABOUT TERESA

COOL COOL COOLCOOLCOOL

Man I thought I was the only one seeing that shit because DASHNER WHY?!?!?!

Teresa is so sure, so certain that she is right about this, that WCKD is good, that she is good, and she has to be because if she's not...

If she's not......

And this comes right back to my other thoughts about Thomas belonging to her. She wants to keep him, but she can't have her cake and eat it too, it's impossible. Thomas is always going to fight. Even when he was working for WCKD with her, when he was almost entirely hers, he didn't believe in it. He even described himself (in a memory-dream) as being hollow, dead inside. And this is after years of conditioning, of pain and torture, of having his conscience smothered and his soul chipped away at. After all that, he still planted his feet and said no. And now that he's been on the other side of what WCKD has done, seen without the blinders on, now that he has friends he cares about, people he's fought and bled and survived with, he is never going to go back.

And she cannot understand why.

Janson described her as having an "evolved view of the greater good," which is such an ironic line considering, and in some part, that is true. She thinks that Thomas can't see the forest for the trees, but she can't see the flowers for the forest. She's backed out so far to see the big picture, she no longer acknowledges or cares about the small things, the soft, animal things that make a life good, the little, inconsequential joys.

Like in the ruined city, there was a marketplace. Built in the rubble and destruction of the old world, people still gathered and set up bright little tents to trade and deal and interact with each other. Jorge found and kept an old record player and a vinyl. Chuck taught himself to carve and made a figure for a mother he didn't remember.

Thomas sees these things as proof there's still hope, still good, something worth protecting.

Teresa looks at them but doesn't see them. All she can see is WCKD and their mission because that is what's good.

If a few die for the masses, then that's fine. It has to be.

If a few trees have to be cut down to build something new, it's fine. There's a whole forest after all, and neither Teresa nor WCKD ever considers that nothing worthwhile can grow back through all the blood.

CHEWING THIS ANALYSIS BECAUSE YESSSSSS!!!!

especially,

She thinks that Thomas can't see the forest for the trees, but she can't see the flowers for the forest.

BECAUSE EXACTLYYYYYYYYY

love this metaphor

the mini ecosystems and wildlife in a forest can seem like little specks when you zoom out to examine the whole region. even Great Plains with its sea of tall grass and wild fauna, you can forget about what creatures lie at the roots and inside the grass

and yes wildfires do scorch and burn away a valuable ecosystem for a time, but just because it’s regrowth is slow does not mean the loss of that piece is gone. it will not be the same and the ecosystem will change, but to force it and cut down its trees or uproot the grass for an environment more fitting and efficient in your eyes is also not the solution

sigh. we could have had it all

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

I just seen your post on JKR and then Rick Riordan, oh my gosh, where do I even start?

Sit down, I've brought the tea.

So I'm in my 30s, and as you may guess, I was reading Percy Jackson as the books were being published. I joined, I think, just as The Last Olympian came out. I was definitely here for The Lost Hero, and considered myself a longtime fan by then, so, as you may guess, I was in the fandom for quite some time.

I bore witness to everything Rick Riordan did, from fan harassment and bullying to racist remarks he made about his characters. I watched firsthand as he posted how happy he was with the movie casting choices as they slowly came out.

I was watching Supernatural at the time; it was the season where Michael and Lucifer were squaring off, Jake Abel was there, so Season 5 (it ended at Season 15), and I was happy that someone I knew was playing Luke.

Anyway, he was very happy; he would make posts about shooting, being on set. He only started openly hating the movie AFTER it flopped at the box office... I guess it didn't give him the fame and fortune he had expected? Shines a new light on that hate, doesn't it?

I haven't checked in a very long time, but I believe he has deleted those early blog posts where he praised the movie and the sets, taking pictures with the cast and saying they were all perfect. He even said Jake was exactly how he had pictured Luke. Come to think of it, he has buried his blog, as it is not at all easy to find anymore after the whole incident with that blog post on Gaza/Israel.

When I heard he was now making a TV show, I watched him and the cast carefully. The TV show seems to be a slight success, so he's very happy to praise and support it. But what if it flopped?

He would be slagging them all off. I think a lot of actors were put off Percy Jackson on disney as his reaction to the first movie was so unprofessional and he enjoyed letting everybody know how much he hated it.

Back to the fans now, I saw Rick Riordan every week blocking fans, then posting their usernames and pictures/screenshots of what they had said to be blocked by him. The majority of them were young fans telling him they had watched the movie and liked it. He was posting pictures of little kids' profiles and sending his fans out to hunt them down online and harass them. It happened all the time and he enjoyed it so much he even made a Q&A about it on his website (since took down) he knew about the fans bullying other fans too, he openly encouraged it.

I was actually one of the first people to start a Rick Riordan call-out group; this was when I was about 19 or 20. I was documenting his toxic behaviour back then, that was before the problematic aspects of his books came to light. The man has been vile for a very long time.

I am quite happy running a tutorial blog for gifs right now, but if I had the time, I would start a blog with all of my old content back. Sadly the older stuff is lost as it was on my original blog which has been dead for years, but anybody else around 30 who was online during the fandom's original run can tell you how much of a jerk he is. We used to call him Uncle D*ck and a friend of mine actually messaged him with a list of everything problematic he was doing.

He turned very nasty.

The nice guy act is just that, an act. His new Rick Riordan persona came out maybe four years ago now?

There's a reason he posted a lame ass post about harassment in book publishing and how he's going to self reflect upon his own actions when his buddy James Dashner was exposed a couple of years ago. There's a reason he ran from Twitter and there's a reason now why the official Percy Jackson book twitter is often set to private/public without replies... he can't hide his true nature much longer and people are once again waking up to him.

I would not allow my kids within feet of Percy Jackson, that's toxic shit right there.

Oh my goodness. That's some toxic shit right there.

I'm became a PJO fan in early 2023, for context (literally by reading Solangelo fanfiction) and I am beyond disappointed in other PJO fans for ignoring this and myself for not doing adequate research.

The whole movie/show drama is very interesting, definitely did not know about how he began hating it AFTER it flopped. Like, I've always seen it played as him hating it because its book accurate.

But it makes more sense this way. Honestly, I watched the show when it came out and it's not very book accurate at all. I've been scratching my head wondering why he was so kind to it when it was not even that good. But now it makes sense.

Thanks for telling me, anon. Good to know about this, sad it had to be this way.

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Chapter 1 / next.

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns) Word Count: 3.2k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, sad times are ahead my friends

A/N: I honestly do not know where this came from. Mostly from my middle school love of Newt probably. Purely maternal. I thought that boy was gay way before Dashner. So here is newt!sibling!reader, and of course, the angst of being in love with your brother's 'killer' :( I think this will be more like snapshots of instead of a full story, mostly due to my schedule, but I do have a lot of moments in mind.

This place is full of bad omens. Broken mirrors, red skies, night terrors that bleed into daylight. They say you’re safe here, but you felt more at ease inside the Spring’s looming walls than you do in this quiet bunker. The concrete is cold, and the steel surfaces gleam menacingly, even in the dark. You always tuck your fork from lunch into the waistband of your sweats, just in case something jumps out from the other side of the funhouse mirror. 

You count 13 new immunes today. You should’ve known then that there was something wicked brewing in the wind. 

None of them stand out to you at first; they look just as dirty and shell-shocked as all the others did when they first arrived. You’re sure you looked the same on your first day at the compound. 

You poke at your apple with your fork, chin drooping onto your knuckles as your eyes lazily trail over a boy with spiky hair. A few tufts are clumped together with sweat, and he somehow looks unimpressed and exhausted at the same time. Your gaze shifts to a tall girl with messy black curls. Her face is delicate, pretty, even through the dirt and scrapes on her cheeks. She appears to be the only girl in the group—poor thing.

Sighing, you roll the ache out of your neck until it pops, and your eyelids start to wilt with your alertness. New arrivals stopped being exciting after you realized they were all going to disappear, one right after the other. It was just a matter of time. 

Your eyes are almost entirely closed when they land on a boy in the center of the pack. His Henley is torn, soiled like everything else, and his eyes are wide—calculating in the way he studies his surroundings. You don’t know him, and yet you’ve never wanted to strangle someone more. 

It’s striking, the anger, and it suddenly occurs to you that you’ve been angry for so long there might be nothing left in you but this rage. How odd, you think distantly. How odd how something can build in an instant; how you can remember a feeling from a void of nothing. 

You don’t know the why, but you stare at the boy and you know he’s the who. 

You’re on your feet before your brain can catch up to your legs. The boy turns to you, and his mouth parts—most likely to ask why the hell your gaze is so murderous—but you hit him before he can utter a single word. A solid jab to his eye socket that sends a jolt of pain through your thumb to your wrist. The grinding of your snapped bone makes your empty stomach churn, and you feel a little woozy with adrenaline and low blood sugar. 

It’s a good punch, but you’re the one who ends up on the ground. The guard escorting the new group drops you with ease and pins your arms behind your back. A few kids come to the boy’s aid, gripping his shoulder like they’re afraid he’ll jump on you, but he doesn’t look angry. He holds a hand over his eye and stares at you, dumbfounded and confused, but not angry. Somehow, that just makes your scowl even more bitter. 

You’re dragged away from the cluster of new immunes and directly deposited in a sterile examination room before anyone has the chance to say anything. It’s hauntingly silent in the room, and your thin tank top does little against the chill in the room. 

You should be more worried about what your punishment will be—if they’ll send you away to where all the missing children go—but you aren’t. It’s just so…loud inside your mind, a million ravenous locusts buzzing, feasting on your ear canal. You can’t make out what they’re saying, what they’re trying to tell you—what you’re supposed to remember about the boy with the bambi eyes and a dark cloud casting a shadow over his face. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this much. For as long as you can remember, literally, dread consumed every one of your thoughts—no room for things like anger, hate, betrayal. You’re spilling over the missing pieces of yourself WCKD chipped away with their mindwipe. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t so awful.

Anger is a nasty feeling and so is weakness. They're bitter, poisonous, and you're afraid you might leak onto the rest of the kids in the compound. This feeling, this bright burning you’re trying to swallow, it's an epidemic of its own. 

A pair of guards with ridiculously large guns flank a mouse of a woman in a stark white lab coat. They’re there to protect her from you, you realize, and you feel like laughing. Two hulking men equipped with high-powered grenade launchers just in case you try to backhand someone else. They must be bored; there really isn’t much guarding for them to do in the middle of nowhere. 

You watch the doctor examine your thumb with mild interest. You’ve gotten used to the pain, mostly. You curse under your breath when she moves it, and the woman flinches like she’s been struck. You grin a little. You probably shouldn’t be so amused, but it feels kind of nice being on the other end of scary, even if it means being stared at like you’re a wild animal. 

The doctor mumbles something to someone in her earpiece, and they all move to leave. “What—that’s it?” you sit up on the examination chair and hold your injured hand to your chest. No one responds. They leave the room without looking back, and the groan that’s ripped from your throat sounds a lot like a growl. “So, I’m good? Nothing’s broken?” The steel door doesn’t answer your question, but the awkward angle of your thumb certainly does. Evidently, they just need you in one place, not one piece. 

The doctor could be coming back, but you’re impatient by nature; sitting around doing nothing after years of running for your life does that to a person. Besides, you’ve done this before. There were no white coats and examination rooms in the Spring; there were only your hands and a stick to bite on. A broken thumb couldn’t be that different from a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle, right? 

There aren’t any sticks in the room, so your shirt will have to do. You bunch the hem into a thick wad and shove it between your molars so that you don’t chip a tooth—and then you pull on your thumb until a sickening pop fills the silence like a gunshot. Your eyes water, and the fabric of your tank top is soaked through by the time you’re certain that you won’t make any noise. You release the material from your mouth and examine your work; the digit is certainly straighter, but the color and swelling are decidedly nasty. 

The whoosh of a door sliding open distracts you from bluing skin, and, for the second time today, you see a stranger and feel an overwhelming wave of familiarity. This time, however, it’s warm. You stare at him and feel the strangest urge to ruffle his floppy hair and crush him into your arms so that he can’t slip away from you. Again. The foreign thought strikes you in the heart, and it hurts. 

He sits down next to you, limbs loose and lax, and his head crooks down like a swan to examine your bloated thumb, “That doesn’t look too good.” 

“I haven’t ever punched someone before,” you mumble and lift a shoulder, “guess my form isn’t the best.”

Humming, he cradles your injured hand in his palm like a baby bird and looks around the room, “All this tech, and they don’t have a single bandage.” 

Your teeth catch against your bottom lip, and the constant gnawing starts to hurt almost as badly as your thumb, “Or the good drugs.”

He smiles at you, lopsided and familiar, and you feel like you’re home. “Surely they have some ice somewhere.”

It finally registers that he sounds different than the rest. You suppose that’s probably the first thing most people notice about him, but it’s a distant thought for you. You sound different too, after all. Your cadence isn’t quite as thick as his. You probably sounded more like him before your strong-voweled, mush-mouthed friends infected your inflection. You wish, strangely, that they hadn’t now.  

The corner of your mouth ticks up, “And to think, I never wanted to see another speck of ice again.”

He looks equally confused and amused. 

“Our maze,” you wave your good hand in the air, pulling a face as the phantom frost creeps up your spine, “it snowed all the damn time. Hated it.”

He lets out a low whistle, “I suppose sweating is better than freezing in hindsight.”

You give him the same look, and his face twists in a grimace that rivals your own, “The Glade was sweltering. Dreadful really, almost worse than the Grievers.”

“I imagine.” You nod sagely, face solemn, “All those boys and such a limited supply of soap.”

The boy’s head cocks back with his laugh, and it’s so heart-wrenchingly familiar you could cry. You really could. At least, you can blame any bizarre behavior on your broken thumb. 

“So,” he tilts his head, “Tommy.”

Your face wrinkles in confusion, and he nods towards your injured hand. Ah. So, the black eye had a name. 

“Tommy,” you repeat, far more glumly.

He smiles a little crooked thing, “I know he can be a pesky little shank, but thirty seconds hardly seems like a fair shot.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you say quietly, keeping your eyes on your lap and the ballooned, bruised proof of your guilt. “I saw him, and then everything went red.”

He hums softly in his throat, “Think you knew each other?”

“I don’t know.” Your cheek takes the brunt of your teeth’s abuse this time, “I don’t think I want to.” 

“Whoever he was before, whatever he did…he’s not the same,” he catches your eye, and the flash of hickory feels like an echo, “none of us are.”

You swallow and nod stiffly. He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s still a little irrational twinge of anger when burnt umber clouds the back of your lids. “Why are you here,” you finally say. Your voice is small, like a lost little girl, and his arm wraps around your shoulders in an easy, fluid motion. You sink into it, still feeling small, but it’s not so terrible now. He’s a comforting weight, a shield you turn into reflexively. “I socked your friend in the eye,” you mumble towards your lap, “think that entitles you to a little hostility.” 

He laughs again, and his chest rumbles with it, “I can’t quite blame you. I’ve wanted to do it a time or two before.”

“Hmm.” You’re unconvinced, and he tugs on your hair a little. 

“Come on, let’s get you that ice.”

You follow him, your hand in his, and feel a little dizzy. There’s a hazy scene layered over the present. A much smaller boy flickers over his long frame; they have the same sandy hair, the same sweet smile. The little boy tugs at your arm, pulling you down the dark hall of a different facility, just as cold. Just as scary. The concrete walls don't loom so largely in your peripherals when he clutches your hand. 

It feels like a fever dream, that place between consciousness and sleep, the lingering brightness when you squeeze your eyes shut—so real for something cloaked in so many shadows. 

There are two faces looking back at you when he turns over his shoulder, the soft cheeks of a child overlapping with the hard lines of a young man. “Newt.”

It’s an odd thing to say, seemingly unrelated to anything around you, but somehow you know that’s his name. You give your own without a moment of hesitation.

Newt looks at you, still and sure, “Had a feeling.”

**************

One bag of ice and lengthy lecture later, you figure you should find Thomas and apologize—for Newt’s sake, not his and certainly not WCKD’S. You eventually find him sitting on a bunk. His face is clean, and his hair is wet, curling at the nape of his neck and over his forehead. Without all the dirt and blood, the purple under his eyes is stark against his pale skin. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he was dropped in his maze, maybe even longer.

You feel a little guilty when you see his black eye.

His head tips up from his hands when you step into the room, and his shoulders immediately tense. You hold up your hands and lean against the opposite wall, as far away from him as you possibly can be in the same room. “I’m not gonna hit you. Promise.”

His shoulders don’t relax, but his fingers uncurl and fall flat against his thighs. His jaw is tight, and you can’t help but notice how it sharpens all the lines of his face. He looks like he’s made of granite, a sculpture from a different time, a time before all this ugliness. There isn’t a lot of room for art in this place, this world; beautiful things don’t last long in the Maze, the Scorch, a society rotten with the Flare—but he has. You hate to admit it, but Thomas is striking. The bruising just makes him look more like a Greek antiquity, a tragic hero with a pretty face.

Thomas looks restless, looking at a spot on the wall just left of your head, and you realize that you’ve been staring for too long. Gritting your teeth, you glance at him and then look down at your shoes, “I’m…I probably shouldn’t have hit you.”

Thomas blinks at you, eyes big and brown…and bruised. You wince a little and fold your arms over your chest, shrinking into the wall, “I definitely shouldn’t have. Sorry.” There’s a part of you, one you don’t understand, that thinks this is more than he deserves. Another part wonders how the hell that’s possible.

He lifts a shoulder and looks to your right now. You aren’t sure if that means he’s forgiven you. You aren’t even sure if he heard you. He looks like he’s in another dimension, a glaze of isolation. You wonder where he’s gone; if it’s nicer there than it is here, or if it’s a bad place. A night terror leaking through the cracks.

Thomas licks his lip and finally looks at you. His face is grim, somber, like you’re visiting your own wake. “I saw you,” his voice is scratchy when he speaks. You’re curious if it’s from disuse or too much use. You’re curious about a lot of things; what exactly is this boy like? This boy who introduced you to the sin of wrath. 

You lick over your teeth and push yourself off the wall, “I figured.” He watches you cautiously until you sit down on the bunk across from him. “Question is, can you still see me?” You hold up three fingers to his swollen eye and hum, “How many?” 

His face remains solemn, not even a hint of a smile, and you sigh, “So you saw me?”

He nods and digs his elbows into his thighs, “In a memory.”

That gets your attention. “You remember things?”

Thomas gestures to his purpling eye, “Don’t you?”

“Feelings,” you pull your knees to your chest tightly, nosing into your kneecap, “just feelings. Not all the time, but sometimes I get that annoying itch you get when you can’t think of the name of a book, but you know you know it.”

He nods, “I get those too; this was different.” He pauses, and presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth like he’s waiting for the right words to roll onto the tip. He doesn’t look entirely content when he speaks again, but his struggle is valiant, “Griever venom...it made me see things—memories, like…a movie I’ve seen before, but I forgot the ending."

Your brow pinches, “Griever?”

Thomas hums a little, “WCKD’s cyborg guardspiders.”

Ah. You pick at some lint on your sweats, and a kittenish whine vibrates through your throat, “Lucky.” He tilts his head and studies you so seriously that a small grin slips through your stoic exterior, “Ours had wings.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Thomas’s face, and it’s nice enough you’re curious what a real one would look like. It fades once he starts talking again, “I know why you hit me. The mazes…they were mine—that’s what I saw. I watched so many of them…” His eyes fade, and you know he’s in the bad place. The place you go when you think about that day. The day half your friends were ripped apart by WCKD’s pets. 

Clearing your throat, you pull him back to the present with a quiet voice, "And then you saw me.”

He nods, and his throat bobs as he swallows, “And then I saw you.” 

The corner of your mouth tugs into a sad little smile, and his responds in kind. “I think I knew you.” Thomas chews on his lip and picks at his nails, doing his best to tear himself apart, “Not well…you were in a different group, but I knew you…because of Newt.”

Your eyes widen, “Newt?”

“I think…he was your brother—is, is your brother. You were close. Like twins.”

The fever dream is back. There’s sun-drenched flashes of a boy reading to you, pelting you with snowballs and laughing, eyes bright, nose pink. They’re too bright to see everything clearly, but it’s enough to wind you. 

Your eyes flutter open, and you see that Thomas is watching you carefully. Concerned. Odd, considering you broke your thumb against his face a few hours ago. “It could be a plant. Who knows what they put in our heads when they took everything away.”

Thomas tilts his head and then shakes it, “This is a good thing. WCKD doesn’t give us good things.”

Your eyes burn, and you aren’t quite sure why. “Is it?”

Thomas looks confused. It’s a common expression on the munies, confusion. Tends to happen when you don’t know who you are or where you came from. For some reason, it makes you sadder than it usually does.

“Come on,” you curl in on yourself, squeeze your shins tightly and peek at him over your knees, “why’d you tell me before you told your best friend?” 

Thomas looks down at his hands. Caught.  

You answer for him, “You and I both know the last thing that kid needs is one more person he’d die for.”

The solemn look is back on Thomas’s face, and you sigh, “You want me to trust you?”

He nods sharply.

“Don’t tell him. Don’t tell anyone.”

[elioas-diel]

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀; 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ an upcoming gally x fem!reader fic || TEASER

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ !𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! :: i DO NOT own anything - except the character y/n in this specific story as well as ORIGINAL subplots i have come up with that, might appear during the main plot; all credits and rights go to James Dashner’s fabulous triology of TMR!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: most of the lore will be book focused whilst character descriptions will be based on the movie (so spoilers will be evident throughout the fic), violence will be evident in later chapters, major character death in later chapters - i’ll update warnings for later chapters

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 - 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

-୨୧-

She came a year after he did, the gladers just establishing a steady routine. Change was her, and he didn’t take it easy.

Y/n and Gally bickering wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to the glade - in fact it was abnormal to not see them arguing over something dumb.

From the moment he had seen her confused face it was there, that hatred he had for her - one that wasn’t just driven by the disruption she had caused but it seemed to run deeper than the either knew.

He took note of those feelings but always kept it to himself, his character too stubborn to speak out or have the rivalry go deeper than meaningless annoyance, frustration and competition. Afraid with what he’d find out.

Though, that doesn’t mean his bubbling suspicion for Y/n didn’t eat him alive. That nagging feeling that made him go crazy every time he saw her - something, a voice? - that told him he knew her, but from where?

It couldn’t have been more the opposite for her. She couldn’t have cared less for him, Y/n had set her mind on survival; that worry being on the top of her list.

The psychological mechanics embedded in our bodies from birth, one called the fight or flight response system had been surging through her the moment she had woken up in a moving chain-mail box.

Dangling thousands of feet above pure darkness.

When the warmth of what felt like she remembered to be sun met her features, he had jumped in and clouded it.

His sharp blue eyes observing her weirdly, grazing her figure like she was some abnormal creature - it didn’t help but make her even more terrified than she was puzzled.

She didn’t hate him, didn’t feel some sort of connection, but with his fixed “unwelcoming-snarky,” attitude towards her, she felt the need to know why it was so.

They were bio-hazards sewn on to themselves - the death of each other and she fell into a trap that was known as Gally.

Love, trust and relationships were a dangerous thing, especially in a place where nothing was certain.

Peace in the Glade had its run. Peace between the two of them had its fun.

Everything had never been as it seemed and it was all about to change a year later.

After-all, uncertainty and certainty were two sides of the same coin.

“Bring bloodshed on them,” - ??

-୨୧-

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀; 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ an upcoming gally x fem!reader fic || OFFICIAL TEASER

˚₊· if you’re interested, join the tag-list! (by shooting me an ask in my request box) so you can stay updated on this new fic of mine!!

“Let the games begin,” - ??

[vicaliciouz]

RIPTIDE - vance joy feels like..

B99, murder most unladylike, percy jackson, harry potter, the hunger games, the maze runner, 10 things i hate about you, clueless ,1D, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina carpenter, sally face, ariana grande, billie eilish, little misfortune, the owl house, korn, limp bizkit, noah kahan, gracie abrams, the walten files, fnaf, conan gray, life is strange, grown ups, heathers, hamilton, newsies, beabadoobee, legally blonde, friends, gilmore girls, gossip girl, the whisper of the heart, studio ghibli, nirvana, my neighbour totoro, spirited away, little mix, hooky, marionnetta, titanic, costa concordia, IT, stranger things, the black phone, marauders, home alone, home alone: lost in new york, laufey, mitski, true crime, rotten mango, adele, kanye west, simgproductions, mlpstopmotion, a good girls guide to murder, binding 13, yellowjackets, bojack horseman, metallica, tate mcrae, chappel roan, megan thee stallion, doja cat, nicki minaj, caraval, one of us is lying, five survive, reappearance of rachel price, larry stylinson, omori, tattletale, kindergarden, laurenzside, yammy, gloom, azzyland, kubscouts,pewdiepie, jacksepticye, weebynewz, blaze ,high school musical, pitch perfect, the perks of being a wallflower, SZA, rihanna, the big bang theory, young sheldon, 💜 , clairo, super danganronpa another 2, danganronpa another despair academy, danganronpa, danganronpa despair time, heartless deceit, project edens garden, danganronpa lapse, to all the boys ive loved before, the summer i turned pretty, outer banks, the mandela catalogue, coraline, dead poets society, white chicks, the outsiders, fear street, be more chill, waitress, phantom of the opera, cinderella, beauty and the beast, princess and the frog, shut up and dance, peraltiago, the office, kesha, wicked, the eras tour, chicago, royale high, roblox, bloxburg, fashion famous, adopt me, green day, lady gaga, payno, nialler, derry girls, heart break high, lps popular, gogglebox, bad education, victorious, meepcity, kim possible, the princess diaries, pretty little liars, modern family, little Einsteins, jake and the neverland pirates, die hard, why dont we, girl in red, dodie, greys anatomy, mean girls, tmz, marina, 2010-2019, maisie peters, molly grace, holly jackson, rick riordan, robin stevens, anthony horowitz, james dashner, dylan obrien, the promised neverland, teen titans, lana del rey, alessi rose, grishaverse, doki doki literature club, niall horan, frat boy harry, thomas brodie sangster, bridgerton, cookieswirlc, ldshadowlady, krew, among us, kreekcraft, piggy, lps, gacha life, mlp, yandere simulator, vine, ifunny, ___ characters as vines, baldis basics, glmv, glmm, bendy and the ink machine, fnaf trilogy, game theory, matpat, slenderman, shopkins, bohemian rhapsody, project sekai, vocaloid, flamingo, leah ashes, denis daily, pals squad, fran bow, talking angela, pink, halsey, katy perry, miraculous, SIX, the lightening thief musical, dear evan hansen, little shop of horrors, the loud house, annoying orange, larva, monster high, ever after high, life in the dreamhouse, a fairy secret, elsia and annia, equestria girls, pj masks, total drama island, horrid henry, henry the viii, bubble guppies, sofia the first, disney junior, pop, cbeebies, x factor, Britains got talent, jaquenline wilson, dork diaries, diary of a wimpy kid, alex rider, tom gates, jojo siwa, vacations, mouthwashing, trisha paytas, tumblr, hairspray, hadestown,

** interact if ur in these fandoms i need more fandom buddies

It never leaves you

[zwelcii]

sixteen | gally x reader

tmr.

fluffy angst for the soul. im bawling my eyes out and cannot be aesthetic rn because im stuck on page 255 of the death cure and i cannot for the life of me read on. oh my days, james dashner. why?

sum; your from group b and you meet gally at the bonfire in the safe haven, but he already knows you. god forbid newt is there though omfg.

cw; swearing, fluff, romance, lgbt themes, unresolved trauma from bein munies, character death.

a/n; all lowercase and not proofread because i cannot anymore holy motherfucking shit. also i would die for will poulter in the newtmas gut wrenching cus like yesssss!! please, will, PLEASEEEE

i want to love a boy, the way i loved the ocean...

homosexual angst, heterosexual comfort.

in your opinion, the safe haven was simply too good to be true. it was a sight to see children your age and younger strolling around without a care in the world. it was surreal. they played games, chased each other around the tall grass, and carried themselves with a certain carefree joy that you absoluetly envied.

you felt so out walking around sulking with your hair down and your clothes wrinkled and bedridden. you looked like a mess and you knew it because you refused to leave your tent for two days, fearing that once you stepped outside that maybe this was all just another test. a trick of the mind.

a trick of the mind that you'd grown used to in the wicked labs. the worst of it came from the sensations you'd feel on your legs and arms after sitting around for too long. pins and needles. if you held on long enough, your skin would eventually mimic the experience of the dozens of pins and pricks your limbs had to undergo. you could vividly see the tubes coming out of you, draining the very essence of your life away and replacing it with biochemical that didn't look, feel, or act natural. you remember being halfway full of the "fake blood." you could remember the feeling of barely being human.

at night, if you closed your eyes hard enough, you could still feel the bright, warm rays of the springs' artificially designed and wicked-engineered daylight on your skin. it would feel so real in your mind that you'd nearly have a panic attack, believeing that you had never escaped in the first place.

you'd spent your whole life (or at least the parts you remembered) in that cruel "life" simulation they called the maze trials. so long that you'd been conditioned to think that that was what home felt like. but no munie has ever felt truely at home before, so what gave vince the right to think that this place could be any different?

for the first time ever, you came out of your tent, looking around you as community unfurled before you. and although you wanted to tell yourself that you were safe, and that you were real, you couldn't help but call bullshit.

not long ago, your group had outsmarted your maze trials and joined the right arm. that was the first time you had truely seen hope after being sent up the lift and thrown into the sadistic evil wicked called "an expirement for good."

unfourtunately, it wasn't much longer then that you would realise that the hope that you had been given was futile and false.

because as soon as you did something nice for the others, you were thrown back into wicked's custody. the good die young and poor afterall. you were transported around the country, often with the tired asian boy you never learned the name of, but he was part of the group the right arm "saved." though you suppose nobody is ever safe anymore.

the scientists there subjected you to what felt like hundreds of graphic simulations. they forced you to watch your loved ones die over and over again—people whose faces you couldn't recognize but somehow knew you should've. You saw them getting ripped apart by shades, their guts spilling on the floor. Falling perilously off the cliff and crumbling in front of you in a gruesome splat of red. you watched your friends get buried alive under the damp soils of the springs, you digging the holes with no controls to stop yourself from hurting harriet, sonya, ximena, rachel, aris, miyoko, beth—the names went on. through it all, your mind was always awake, fully aware of every horrifying detail. the images burning itself into your dreams, gifting you with restless nights.

though you suppose you should be grateful in the slightest. because you wholeheartedly believed that you would still be in that pain if it weren't for the rouge wicked soldier that carried you out of the facility and onto a bus full of the children you'd seen before im the hallways. regardless, suspicion bubbled within you. you found yourself asking when you would start killing everyone.

aris walked up to you, calling out your name as his way of announcing himself, careful not to startle you. him, harriet and sonya were your most frequent visitors, talking to you from the otherside of the thin tent walls. you begged them to stay outside, anticipating your "turn for the worst."

you walked together as he told you about the bonfire vince would be holding that afternoon. "just like the good old days" he said, though you disagreed. the last "good day" you had was before the springs, lost somewhere in the mist of all the things you couldn't remember.

"maybe meet someof the other people?" aris suggested, his question laced with the sterness of an order. "it'll do you some good." he said. doubt it.

as aris walked away, your gaze was drawn to a pair of blue eyes watching you from a distance. they belonged to a tall blond boy who observed with a curious, almost wistfulness swimming in his eyes before it melted into a sombre look. the shade of blue in his eyes bubbled up a sense of familiarity deep within you, and you didn't even realise you were holding your breath until you forced yourself to look away.

that night, after vince's inspirational speech to keep the colony in high hopes, you lingered at the back of the crowd. small cliques spread about with wide grins and loud laughter as they ate and danced around the fire. you felt a streak of envy as you watched the children easily forget as if they hadn't been poked and prodded just days prior. yet, you were also grateful that the younger ones didn't have to face the worst of it. it was a bittersweet sight—knowing they could find joy despite everything, even if for just a moment.

behind the bonfire and displayed before the beach was the large slate of rock vince had mentioned in his speech. a few kids were already at work, carving dozens of names into the stone—tributes to the people they'd lost. one of them stood out, towering over the others with a quiet intensity. he skillfully carved the name "maya" at the top of the sculpture, his hands steady and deliberate. he went over the name a couple names, digging the name deep into the rock so it popped out the most comared to the others until he finished and did the same for the name "chuck" under his first. the sounds of the chisel against stone mixed with the crackling of the fire and the gentle lapping of waves from afar overlapped. the atmosphere thickened as each name was etched into the monument.

you came up behind the boy, tapping him gentely on the shoulder and he seemed to lean into your touch. oddly enough, he didn't have to turn around to know that he'd find you with your arm outstretched, asking for the sculpting tools.

in surprise, you stood there looking at the tools he carefully handed over to you, those blue eyes never leaving the name he carved in first. it startled you how in sync you seemed to be with this total stranger, you couldn't help but stare at the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, how his eyes glazed over the longer he stared at the names, and how his shoulders were tensed every time you had seen him. as if he was carrying the weight of the world.

in contrast to the boy, you got on your knees before the large stone slate, taking your time with the curves of each letter. she felt unworthy of writing the name into the rock, having killed her over and over and over again in so many different simulations. but when you brought it up with harriet, she simply gave your shoulder a squeeze in attempt to reassure you before pulling you into a hug, whispering soft "i know,"s into your hair, your eyes watering.

you made sure to do it justice, chipping away at the stone with intention in each stroke, a furrow of your eyebrows over your tired eyes as you made no mistake with each hit of your mallet. you had noticed that although he was finished on his names, the boy still hovered behind her, watching the way she shifted her entire focus into permanently engraving the name into the sculpture. she paid no mind to anything other than the work in front of her and the sound sof the sea. "beth" you had written, standing up and backing away to admire your works.

it was then that you realised that the boy was never looking at the names. he was looking at you, putting a respectful hand on the small of your back as you walked backwards, before pulling away to cross his arms over his chest. usually, you would lash out, yell at whoever thought to have the audacity to even think to touch you. but something about the way his caloused hand sat warm against your skin felt so natural. like you were meant to feel his skin against yours. so you didn't yell because maybe you were in the wrong.

your eyes flickered between the names and the blond beside you, studying the way soft freckles spread across his face from the cold and how he kept his head held high, his jaw clenched. you knew he could feel you staring, but you couldn't help but wonder why he felt so familiar, and you had a feeling he didn't care much.

it didn't startle you when his eyes locked on to yours. you bit your lip, taking notice of the way your heart rate picked up as you watched the darkest bits of his eyes dilate as he set his eyes on you and you failed to hold back the giddy smile that crawled onto your lips. he felt pathetic, searching for the familiar flakes of gold that swam within your irises. he searched your eyes for your soul only to feel himself melt, falling for you. again. all while you studied him for what would be the first time for you. his heart ached.

"do i know you?" you asked under bated breath. the way his eyes smiled and his gaze softened when he looked at you nearly convinced you to fall for him. how innocently he looked at you, void of any judgment.

he shook his head no, smiling at you with his lips pursed. his eyes were laced with a sort of pain that bubbled up in the middle of his chest. no, you didn't know him. but he knew you. he'd state it, his voice was low and gruff, as if he had just woken up.

"and your so sure?" the blond hummed. "why is that?" you laughed, and he simply looked at you. he looked at you like you'd disappear if he looked away. he offered you his hand and you glanced down at it hesitantly. your eyes traced over his calluses, worn hands, each scar and scrape a story to share. and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to hear them. and for the first time in days, you let yourself believe that everything was real, because you wanted him to be real.

you took his hand and let him lead you down to the beach, neither of you walking farther behind the other. just together.

the two of you sat there in the sand. he sat with his arm resting against a leg, his other outstretched and his other hand proped under him to cary his weight. it was a vain attempt to relax despite the tension in his muscles. you sat your knees up to your chest, hugging them close and resting your chin on your knees. a vain attempt to feel safe around him. because no matter how much you doubted the world around you, the legitimacy of the people you met, and the control you had over your own actions, you still wanted a place to go back to that you could call home, or rather a person. he told you his name was gally. then your heart pleaded with the universe to let home be the boy you'd only met today.

"maya..." he muttered, picking up a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. "she loved the ocean. because each time the water left the shore, she knew it would come back." he finished, looking at you once again. he searched for any tell-tale sign that his words felt familiar to you. they didnt. "she told me that."

he could recall the way you used to talk with your hands, a bounce in your step, and your eyes wide with wonder and love as you spoke to him. you wasted your love on him, but he had overlooked it. he had overlooked you, missing the way your smile would falter when he changed the subject or how you would stumble over your words, desperately wishing he would just listen to you.

"she's a smart girl," you hummed, your eyes trained on the crash of the waves and the flutter of seagulls as the passed by. "can i ask... what happened?"

gally let out a shaky breath, inhaling the salty scent of the sea. "she was in trouble," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hear his own words. he spoke slowly, each word heavy and dry in his mouth. "she was in trouble, and i ignored her."

he remembered how you ran to him in the middle of the hallway, begging him to help you run away. you told him how you overheard the scientists discussing sending you to the maze trials, how you panicked at the thought of losing your memories and everything you'd worked for being wiped away. your voice trembled with fear and desperation, but he ignored you.

you gently nodded, letting him know you were listening, though you kept your eyes closed, allowing the sounds and smells of the beach to envelop you. you'd never seen water run the way the waves swayed against the wind, their movements both soothing and relentless. the way the water crashed against the rocks and sand with such urgency, only to retreat and disappear, fleeting from the very reason it fought so hard to get to.

"i grew selfish and i lost nearly everything i loved because of it," he sighed, reverent. he hated how you looked at him like you'd never seen him before, but you haven't. that was his fault. he wanted to you to see what he saw, to show you his memories, to make you feel what he felt. "we were sixteen."

he looked at you, his eyes desprate as the blue drew you in. they taunted you, and it hurt how you noticed every similarity between his his eyes and beth's. the green bits that crowded his irises, and the blue that reminded you of the waves on the shore before you. but he silently begged for you to stop thinking about her.

"i should know you shouldn't i?" the thought burned your heart.

gally nodded, his head hung low as he pursed his lips. he had hoped when he saw you in the last city, that seeing him could trigger your memories and bring you back to him. but as he saw you above the hill across the safe haven, staring at him with nothing but curiosity, he knew he had truely lost you. it got worse when he watched you write beth's into the stone so delicately.

"beth," you started, her name bitter on your tongue. "we were together in the springs." you explained to him everything you knew about the maze. you told him about your life back when you were just a sprout, a new arrival. you had come up from the lift just a month before beth, but when you saw her, you already knew her. he listened intently, watch how you smiled when you told him about her and the blue of her eyes.

"she was stung because of me," you admitted, recalling the day you snuck her into the maze. "when she went through the shift... i couldn't bare to stand the yelling. the screaming. i couldn't face the fact that she was like that because of me." you fidgeted with your shoelaces, twisting the fabric between your fingers as you spoke. "i didn't talk to her after that. and the last time i saw her—when i was finally ready to be there—she was bleeding out on the floor."

"that's the thing about people, isn't it?" she muttered. "they leave at the worse times, then come back when you stop needing them."

you let a tear slip as the weight of your words exhoed between the both of you, ringing true for different reason. gally could remember the exact moments your pleas had sunk in, but by then, the last time he'd seen you was on the screens of the security room, running the maze and killing a griever. he could still remember the desperation in your tone, the thought finally sinking in that you reached out to him—only him—because you wanted him to care.

his eyes glazed over, recalling the way he treated people before and after the maze. he could remember all the yelling he did, all the pain he could've caused. the most vividly though, chuck laying on the floor of the wicked facility, his blood pooling under him. he remembered falling to his knees, the pain is his shoulder numb compared to the hatred his heart held for him. "i was a terrible person..." he confessed, his voice breaking.

your brows furrowed as you frowned. gally kept his head low, glaring daggers at his feet with an intensity. the anger in his soul was the only thing more powerful than the vicious regret that gnawed at him from the inside.

"maybe you weren't," you shrugged, and for a moment you paused. you gently took his hand in yours, your skin smooth against his as you took your time to intertwine your fingers together in a way that felt right to you, yet familiar to gally. he let you lay your head against his shoulder, the only weight that felt comfortable on his shoulders, and you let him wrap his arm around you waste, the only touch you truely believed to be genuine. "maybe you were just sixteen."

guys do u get it. cus her name wss maya. yes like maya hawke. and she loved him but he didnt. and he lost sky when her memories got wiped. so he wrote her name on the stone thing. and he loves her now but she doesnt. she loves beth. but beth is dead. but they have the same eyes. cus theyre equivalents. so. they bother get second chances. hypothetically. they can finally be there for each other. but. she only loves him now. because he reminds her of beth. so all we can do now i pray that maya can love the boy the way she loved the ocean. though the ocean could also be all three of them. maya on shore then gally off shore. gally on shore then maya off. then maya and beth on shore then maya off. then maya on and beth off. now both gally and maya on shore. the shore representing love.

omg guys im losing it.

[zer0brainc3lls]

My maze runner sexuality/gender headcanons!!

These are my opinions guys I don’t mind if you don’t agree lol :) fandoms are meant to be fun!!

Thomas: he is a bisexual if I have ever seen one. Literally saw Newt and teresa side by side and just died. 😭 Instantly. Yk that scene where nick in heartstopper (🏳️‍🌈) is watching pirates of the Caribbean with his mum and he sees those two characters and has a bi panic attack??? That.

Newt: GAYYYYYYYYYY 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 BOY KISSERRRRRRRRR!!!!!! In fever code I could imagine Minho saying “I wish we could meet the girls in group B” and Newt fr going “what? Why??”

Minho: either Pan or aroace. I cannot decide. I lean more towards pan for Minho tho 😭🙏 I could totally imagine him seeing people all coupled up and go “ew gross all I need is my handsome self 🤭” but yeah I think he’s pan 🫡

Sonya & Harriet: they are literally aris’s lesbian mums. I will not elaborate. That’s all I have to say. (Jk) MY FAV LESBIANS EVER!!!! I LOVE THEM SO SO SO MUCH!!!!

Aris: saw someone say he’s trans 🏳️‍⚧️ (ftm) and I have never agreed more in my life idc. I will not be convinced otherwise!!! “Uhm.. Canonically!!”LALALALLAALALALALALA 👉😽👈 *blocks ears and runs away*

Gally: unlabelled king!!! If you were to ask him what sexuality he is he would just go “nun ya” and walk off 😭 or “I like what I like” *shoulder shrug* 🤷‍♂️

Teresa: “Teresa likes Thomas!!” Whatttttt!!! Nooooo!!! That is a lesbiannnn!!! (Teresa being a lesbian in fanon is so near and dear to me. If we are talking canon wise I would say bi or straight but SHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫)

Brenda: exact same thing as Teresa 😭 Brenda and Teresa being a lesbian couple in fanon is my favourite thing ever gang!!!!! In canon I go: ew yucky but in fanon I go: HHEHEHEEHEHEHEHE I LOVE THEM SO SO MUCH 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 I love how in newtmas fics they just take Thomas’s two canon love interests and go “nah their gay for eachother” and I fw it HEAVILY.

All of Jorge’s kids are gay, he is their supportive single dad btw!! I’m ACTUALLY James dashner this is true!!!! Examples:

*Newt and Thomas walk up to Jorge hand in hand*

Thomas: uhh Jorge.. we need to tell you something…

Jorge: *spins around in chair to face them* yeah? What is it? Have you done something???

Newt: no no!! Uhm.. we’re… together.. as in dating..

Thomas: Is that ok..?

Jorge: oh that’s fine, happy for you. No more sharing hammocks though

Newt and Thomas: WHAT?!?! :(

Jorge: there will be no hanky panky in this house!!!! (Heart stopper reference, would he ever say this? Prob not but shh)

Brenda: please don’t say hanky panky.

-

Brenda: Jorge I think I like girls

Jorge: I know?

Brenda: WHAT???

Jorge: a father always knows!!

[manawari]

Group B |

(a brief info: Group B, also known as Icers, escaped from the Maze three days faster and lost fewer people than the Gladers, showing that they were significantly more capable than the Gladers. Their Maze was in a snowy, coniferous forested area that they called "the Spring". Rather than Grievers, the group had giant, flying, winged bat-like creatures called Shades.)

There are eight girls who first came in the Maze: Park Hee-jin, Gina, Lee Bora, Seo Ji-woo, Han Se-mi, Jung Ye-rim, Nam Chae-young, and Han Song-yi. I'll add a few more to make the members eleven (before Eun-seok and Ju-hee) — Group A still has the most members.

When Eun-seok came, which made the girls suspicious at the sight of a boy. Gina was so skeptical that she believed WICKED had sent the boy to torment them. So, along with some girls, she attempted to kill Eun-seok. Luckily, Hee-jin — the Leader — stepped in and defended the Blondie (slang for Newbie, just like Greenie), glaring at her second-in-command; she told her to not act quickly and WICKED must've sent him for a reason. Gina remained dubious and kept her distance, watching Eun-seok like a hawk.

Hee-jin is a determined leader, she keeps peace and will answer to any injustice. Gina is her second-in-command. Han Se-mi and Jung Ye-rim are the Medics (James Dashner didn't have specific terminologies in Group B so I'll make my own and here). Seo Ji-woo and Nam Chae-young are Mappers.

Han Song-yi is the youngest member. She feels closest to Hee-jin and is mostly found alone if her unnie is busy. She eventually becomes Eun-seok's first friend.

Despite not losing his memories at all, Eun-seok doesn't know most of them in the past. He feels alone and misses his best friends, hoping they'll stay alive until their paths cross. He thinks about them every day and stares at the stars. Then, Hee-jin approaches him and asks why he isn't sleeping. Eun-seok answers that he's thinking about his past. She shrugs and tells him not to worry, all of them have no idea about where they came from, and she always wonders if she has a loving family. Eun-seok sympathizes with this and the two talk under the stars.

Lee Ju-hee, the last member, eventually comes and that is when the Box has stopped going up. Group B realizes they will soon starve. They begin to prepare, though they give the Blondie an entire day to adjust.

Eun-seok goes to Ju-hee, who looks at him strangely. He figures she doesn't know him yet, so he reassures her that she's going to be fine and he'll protect her. Besides looking forward to seeing his best friends, Eun-seok wishes to reunite with Jin-woo and Hae-in someday, who were both close to him and Ju-hee.

Armed with spears, flames, and daggers, the group bravely enters the Maze. Ji-woo and Chae-young lead them while the rest fend off the creatures.

Eun-seok protects both Ju-hee and Song-yi.

Chae-young is the first one who dies, sacrificing herself to draw the Shades' attention from her group.

Ju-hee and Song-yi are the ones who managed to reach the end. Ji-woo yells out the code and Ju-hee hurriedly punches them in. Unfortunately, some members die before they can reach the exit, leaving only eight members surviving.

They soon get rescued by WICKED, who brings them to the headquarters. After sensing something bad two days later, Hee-jin hatches a plan to sneak out, so she ventures through the air vents and observes each path that might possibly lead to the exit. Once she figures it out, she encourages her friends to leave. Hee-jin and Ju-hee secretly make their way to Eun-seok's room to take him along.

Unfortunately, Eun-seok tells them to leave him behind. Hee-jin protests at this and says she can't let them do something to him. He smiles and hugs her, promising her that he'll meet her soon — he needs to see someone first. Hee-jin looks like she's about to protest, but closes her mouth, she touches his shoulder and gazes into his eyes; "make sure you stay true to your word." She says.

Eun-seok nods. Hee-jin goes back to the tunnel and Ju-hee is about to follow her when Eun-seok grabs her wrist, sneaking a small radio into her hand. The ginger looks at him perplexed and he mouths "I'll explain" then encourages her to go.

Ju-hee partially regains her memories. And the more she thinks about the past, the more she uncovers the rest, except for the faces of people who were once her family. She forms a closer bond with her group and they look after each other until the Right Arm finds them. She keeps in touch with Eun-seok, only answering the radio when she's alone since nobody else must know about it; he checks on her and the rest, asking her if she has met Yoon-ho and Byung-gyu or Jin-woo and Hae-in. Ju-hee shakes her head. She can tell how much he's struggling — the pain of being excited to meet someone who doesn't know who you are.

Ju-hee gets scared when she no longer receives Eun-seok's calls. Lee Bora is there to comfort her, even though she doesn't know why her friend panics at random times of the day. The biggest relief she gets when Min Byung-gyu steps into the tent and then how he tells her about Eun-seok during their journey while she's treating his wound.

Song-yi remains alive. Although, she won't be coming when the cast goes to the Last City. She'll be in Safe Haven with Ye-rim while the rest are off to fight the organization that destroyed their lives.

Lee Bora is the only person who saw Ju-hee leave. It is more like she caught her packing her things and ready to leave. Ju-hee explains to her why and that a helicopter will be coming for her. Lee Bora is shocked — Eun-seok had just betrayed them, and now, Ju-hee will be leaving to take WICKED's side; she doesn't know how to feel being betrayed twice. Nonetheless, she lets it go and bids Ju-hee good luck. She's still hurt, and Ju-hee will not stop her from telling the others, already envisioning Hee-jin's reaction.

Group B counterparts with Group A:

Park Hee-jin - Lim Tae-gyu

Gina - Choi Jong-in

Seo Ji-woo - Baek Yoon-ho

Han Se-mi - Son Ki-hoon

Jung Ye-rim - Min Byung-gyu

Han Song-yi - Yoo Jin-ho

Lee Ju-hee - Lee Ju-hee

Lee Eun-seok - Cha Hae-in

[thathyperarmystay]

PSA for people of any fandom with a canonically gay character.

PLEASE STOP SHIPPING GAY CHARACTERS WITH WOMEN. Please stop writing female y/n x gay character, female OC x gay character, etc.

Same with canonically straight characters too honestly. Stop shipping them with the same gender.

I think it's fine to write fanfics and fine to have a crush on a character, but when the creator of this character is telling you their sexuality and you're blatantly disregarding it, that's an issue. You're not changing their name or physical appearance to write them, so why are you changing their sexuality? It's another intrinsic part of their character.

Specifically, I recently got into The Maze Runner. Newt is an awesome character. Thomas Brodie-Sangster plays him impeccably in the movies. And yeah, he's really easy to get a crush on. But James Dashner confirmed he was gay FIVE YEARS AGO. And people still write him as kissing and sleeping with women all the time. But change his limp? Change his accent? How dare you suggest such a thing! (I will be the first to admit that Newt's sexuality is not mentioned in the books or movies but the author did confirm it and the Maze Runner was never really a romantic series anyway. I wouldn't call it queer baiting bc honestly I didn't think there was a large number of people calling for him to be queer, especially strictly gay, but correct me if I'm wrong.)

Don't even get me started on the Nico di Angelo x female shit I've seen! And being gay is central to his character. My god.

To summarize. If you identify as a woman, it is absolutely fine to have a crush on a gay character. We've all been there and been sad about it. It is not okay to write that character as sleeping with women to fulfill your fantasies because you're sad that you'll never be able to have them, even though they're fictional. If everything else about a character is important to keep in a fanfic, from personality to eye color to mannerisms, then their sexuality is too.

Also this all applies EVEN MORE for fanfiction about gay celebrities.

Thank you for listening to my rant lmao I really needed to get that out!

[d3ardaughter]

Dashner sooooo underutilized the mental link between the Elites in the books and while I understand why they left it out of the films, I'm still a bit salty too because DAMN

They were "made" in pairs (Thomas/Teresa and Aris/Rachel) but they can still all communicate with each other. For the most part, all they did was talk, but it could've involved sooo much more.

Could they sense each other's emotions too? Pick up on their general thoughts, not just when they were "talking"? Send images or memories? Share dreams?

In the books, Thomas initially struggled with it, and Teresa warned him "they'll kill us if we don't manage this", which is WILD bc they 👏 are 👏 babies👏. What would that mean for the rest of them, too? Was there ever a point where they weren't allowed to speak aloud and would be punished if they did?

And having that part of themselves opened to each other, could they feel it when Rachel died? Are they always a little bit Aware of the space where she should be, even if they don't remember why?

I'm just—

*gnawing on the bars of my enclosure*

You're so right.

The bond was built up so much and for what? To just brush it aside? For Rachel to be killed and Aris still agree with WICKED for a while? It's literally insane

It could've been done more wirh

Aughh

I think about Rachel n Aris a lot I'm writing something for them

But they were all so close and it gets me :(((

James Dashner.... When I catch you

[serendipitouslyyyyyy]

also while we're on the topic of the maze runner. james dashner will forever be iconic for randomly deciding one day that newt can be gay and no i don't see it as the same as jkr's random twitter announcements abt characters and here's why.

when jkr was asked if any of her characters could be interpreted as queer (and this was before she turned out to be a rampant transphobe btw) she literally picked the person who it would have to least impact on in terms of plot relevance and character arcs and claimed that she wrote him as gay all along.

but when james dashner was asked whether one of his actual main characters and arguably the emotional heart of his entire franchise is literally in gay love with the protagonist he says "yeah sure lol idc"

like say what you want but those two things simply aren't the same for me and even if he didn't write explicit queer representation into his books i will always applaud him for his willingness to actually let his books be interpreted in different ways without being afraid that it might change things.

and yeah maybe that doesn't deserve praise exactly but i also think he was dragged way too much for it like come on we can at least admit that it was funny

[annhedonie]

The Maze Runner series by James Dashner

The Maze Runner series by James Dashner is a dystopian trilogy geared towards a YA audience, but readers of all ages can enjoy the series.

The series begins when the main protagonist, Thomas, wakes up in a glade with no memory of how he got there. The Glade is full of other boys who had previously awoken to find they had no memories.

In case this scenario wasn't eerie enough, The Glade is also the center of a giant and dangerous maze. The boys may not remember their lives, but many wonder about their lives and seek answers. Do they have families? Is anyone looking for them? While some are content to continue to live in The Glade, others have a gnawing gut feeling that to truly live, they must leave The Glade. To do that though, they will have to find a way through The Maze.

What follows is a sort of hero's journey to escape the maze, find out who built, and why.

The genre-bending series has everything YA readers love: sci-fi, romance, suspense, and tons of action. While Thomas is a typical hero, the premise of the story is unique with many twists that keep the series engaging.

Once I started the first book, I immediately read the entire trilogy and prequel.

[arcadian-litterateur]

gally as galileo galilei

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

summary: an analysis of james dashner’s choice to name gally after galileo galilei, and the similarities gally and galileo galilei have.

word count: 560

warnings: talk of trauma, triggers, death, and abuse/manipulation by religious groups

a/n: happy birthday will poulter! this is the first part of my wave of stuff for will's birthday. just a lil observation i made, and ofc, a lot of love for my sweet precious baby, gally.

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥 in The Maze Runner is named after an important historical figure. Thomas is Thomas Edison, Newt is Isaac Newton, etc…

Everyone acts like these characters got their names randomly, but it's so obvious to me that their names directly correlate to their purpose in the story.

Thomas Edison was an inventor who created unique solutions to problems that had stumped other scientists for ages…Thomas was able to creatively solve the Maze after the Gladers struggled on it for three years. Isaac Newton was smart as hell, and he made discoveries that laid the foundation for many other scientific discoveries. Sound familiar? Newt laid the foundation for the Glade by holding a massive amount of info and ideas. Winston Churchill spent his life trying to gain world peace…much like how Winston tried to make both sides happy and bridge the gap when Gally took over.

With this information in mind, let's take a look at Gally and his namesake, Galileo Galilei. Often called the father of modern science, Galileo made over fifty revolutionary discoveries about science, influencing tons of scientists, namely Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein. Galileo discovered the moons of Jupiter, the rings of Saturn, the phases of Venus, and the craters and mountains on the moon. He also proved the earlier theory of Nicolaus Copernicus that the Earth was revolving around the sun. He invented an early microscope. He developed the mathematical ideas on the motion of objects on an inclined plane, the acceleration of free-falling bodies, and the movement of a pendulum. Basically, he was a really cool dude.

Gally was one of the most knowledgeable and foundational people of the Glade, made clear by his position as a Keeper and his obvious love for stability. He wasn't afraid to share his opinion (much like Galileo) and consistently contributed important information and solutions to the Glade. Also, to be a Builder, you have to have at least a basic understanding of physics. Gally obviously understood basic physics concepts, because all of the buildings in the Glade are sturdy and standing. Similarly, math is very important to be a Builder, so as Keeper of the Builders, he obviously had an understanding of mathematics. Basically, Gally is smart. Like his namesake.

But the similarities don't end there. When Galileo tried to bring forth his evidence of the Copernician doctrine that the Earth revolves around the sun, he was labeled a heretic by the church and ex-communicated, and placed under house arrest for the rest of his life. Yeah, for stating his opinions, he was forced out of what should have been a safe place, ostracized, and had to die alone. Similar to Gally, don't you think? Sure, he shouldn't have antagonized Thomas without explaining why, but the truth still remains that he had trauma and Thomas was a trigger. He thought he was helping by pointing out Thomas's role in his memories, and then instead of at least listening, his friends of the past three years immediately sided with the boy they'd known for three days, ostracizing him from the only safe place and family he'd ever known. He was also left to die alone by these friends, much like Galileo.

Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, James Dashner knew what he was doing here, and Gally and Galileo both need to find better friends.

[soapywankenopy]

I'm watching the Death Cure movie for the first time and I have some thoughts

First of all, I'd like to say I never finished the book series. I've only read Maze Runner and Scorch Trials. but something I noticed on my last attempted reread of Maze Runner was that Thomas is such a bland character. I think he's definitely better in the movies, thanks in large part to Dylan O'Brien's performance because he just has so much raw charisma and he imbues that into every character he plays no matter how bland the source material is. but Thomas is a bland character even in the movies, even with what little personality Dylan was able to infuse. and I think that's in stark contrast to Katniss in The hunger games (in the books) and a big part of that is because her story is told in first person so we are actually in her head, and it gives us a lot of insight into her psyche, she feels like a real person. she has real emotions. she is complex. but in the books Thomas's story is told in third person and it removes you. it takes you out of the character's head and we don't get a sense of who he is. but beside that, he's still very much a blank slate and I think that this contributes to him having a little bit of main character syndrome, Mary Sue-ism, whatever you want to call it. like he's a born leader, he's Super smart. he's literally the Death Cure, like his blood is the Cure, like that's op as hell.

and even the main premise of the story you know like, it's called The Maze Runner series. The maze doesn't make sense. why were they in a maze? I still don't get it. And I don't know if my theory can be backed up by truth, but my theory is that James dashner had this cool idea for this post-apocalyptic zombie story and then the success of hunger games happened and he was like all right, i have to gamify this. how can I make this a gimmick, what's the catch. thus, the idea for the maze was born because if you think about the story as a whole, it really does feel tacked on. I was thinking about it the other day and I was like, it really does feel like the Maze Runner movie/book, that section of the story (the maze trials) is detached from the rest of the story. it feels tacked on in my opinion. it's so unlike The hunger games because everything in The hunger games is intentional, the games aren't just games you know like The Maze Runner had its gimmick divergent had its gimmick, but the games in The hunger games had a purpose in the story. it all goes back to the point that Suzanne Collins was trying to make. and I think that's why so many of the copycats fall short. their message was a bland one and it wasn't strong enough to come back to. it wasn't the center point of the story. the copycats boiled The hunger games story down to its basic parts and in doing so they missed the whole point of the series.

and I'd like to go back to comparing Katniss to Thomas because they're both the main characters in their series, but they have the opposite impacts because Katniss is a character who is not a leader but everyone makes her out to be one. Thomas is claimed to be a leader but it falls flat on a meta level because he doesn't inspire, Katniss worked as the rebellion's spearhead because she inspires. she literally leaks empathy. she has this facade of apathy, of being completely closed off but she is a kind and giving and she is passionate and fiery and that's why the rebellion chose her to be the Mockingjay. her kindness and peeta's kindness was the crack in the capital's dam. kindness was the instigator that propelled the movement forward. but with Thomas it just seems like he is a leader out of happenstance, which is a fine story to tell, but I don't think it was told in the right way because he doesn't feel like an actual leader, and maybe, maybe in the books, he does feel like more of a leader and I just haven't gotten to that part yet. or I am misremembering, it has been a while since I read them. but in the movies we don't get very many examples, we are told and we are not shown. it's hard to feel anything for Thomas because he doesn't feel real. he feels like a cardboard cutout of what a lead character should be.

So those are generally my thoughts. if I have more I might reblog this with them later. if you have thoughts about this reblog it or comment I want to know what people think, especially people who actually finished the book series because I do feel bad for critiquing a book series that I haven't finished, and only watched the movies. I'm always hounding people for not reading the books and just watching the movies so I do feel like a little bit of a hypocrite. I want to know what people think. I don't mean to start any fights if Thomas is your favorite character, he is also my favorite character out of the series. I just can't turn off my critical thinking brain even when I want to because this was supposed to be a chill watch, something to enjoy because I love Dylan O'Brien but alas I cannot turn off the critical thinking right now and can't help picking things apart, so here we are, writing an essay when I should be folding laundry and watching a movie.

[fluffypotatey]

I am still not over the WCKD Elites (I'm calling them the Four Horsemen, idgaf).

*shaking Dashner by the neck* TELL. ME. MORE. ABOUT. THEM.

I like to think they had different specialties and were paired off accordingly. Teresa is the chemist, clearly, she was in the labs working on the serum/cure, she figured out it was Thomas's blood that was so special, and maybe also designed the Griever venom and it's antidote.

I think Thomas and Aris were the Maze ones, the puzzle oriented ones. Thomas thought of all the ways *through* the Maze, and Aris thought of all the ways *around* the Maze. He's the one who made sure they couldn’t climb down the elevator shaft, couldn't climb all the way up the walls. That's why Aris went sneaking around the outpost bc he knew something was off. He got them out during the escape by going around and opening the door from the other side. But even though he knew something was sketchy, he didn't do anything until Thomas was there. Even without his memories, he knew he needed his puzzle buddy for this.

Which leaves Rachel, my beloved, who I'm thinking is the ordnance one. She designed the Grievers, the blade field, the traps. She's the battle strategist, the tactician. And that's partly why WCKD let her die bc they'd have been fucked if she turned on them.

so we learn that Teresa is actually a whiz in hacking and coding in Fever Code (hacking into WCKD’s cameras so it doesn’t see her and Tom sneak into Group A’s dorms to meet their friends in secret), but in the films, chemistry is where she excels.

it’s a very fascinating diversion of choice Dashner and Wes make for her

so, i can see her partnering with Rachel in the code for the Greivers. coding and implementing the vemon and serum. but now that i’m think about it, that also could mean, Teresa designed the Beetles which watch the Gladers every move since that ties her with cameras and specific coding where a machine mimics life

which has HEAVY implications with her character 👀👀👀

and omfg Thomas designing the Maze and making sure there’s an exit or at least a way for the Gladers to escape, giving them that door and key for them. meanwhile Aris is the one sealing the cracks, ensuring that any attempt to leave has obstacle after obstacle (which in turn leads to his amnesiac self noticing so many cracks and flaws in the Facility that others wouldn’t)

Rachel with her strategic mind, it gained her so much respect with Group B and led to them escaping faster than the Gladers but have her a glaring target on her back. Rachel having her strategy and plan oriented mind used as a means to terrify and extract samples from the Subjects and hating it. Rachel pre-Swipe not only designing the Grievers to be deadly and horrifying but have a shell soft enough to kill, to be labeled for someone to see. WCKD wanted a tool for an experimental battle and accidentally radicalized it that they had to put her down before she remembered

yes yes beautiful i love it

[mymediaarchive]

#2 - The Maze Runner (Movie)

Title: The Maze Runner

Released: 2014

Story by: James Dashner

Directed by: Wes Ball

Wider Universe: The Maze Runner (Movies)

Format: DVD

Date Entered: 11/27/2024 (orig.); 3/19/2025 (re-uploaded)

Watch Number: Rewatch

Entry Number: 2

Characters: Thomas, Minho, Newt, Teresa, Alby, Chuck, Gally

Original Analysis On: Letterboxd

Opinion: Amazing

Plot: A teenage boy wakes up in a box that takes him to the center of a maze. There, he meets a group of kids just like him—and they’ve been stuck for three years.

My thoughts: A staple of the teenage dystopian subgenre, I can see why this still stands up as one of my tweenage favorites. I remember watching it for the first time maybe five or six years ago with a group of girls at a sleepover, giggling over the actors and being scared out of my mind at all of the action scenes. (Of course, nowadays I’m not so easily startled, but the action scenes do still serve to get my heart racing out of concern for characters I already know what happens to.) 


Today I rewatched it for the first time in years with my little sister, who is now about the age I first watched it at. She was hesitant to partake, but ended up loving it and even asked me to buy the DVDs for the next movie in the saga. 
5/5 stars for being a timeless classic in my heart! Reminds me of the good old days, and the rewatch hasn’t dulled my love of it at all—if anything, it reminded me of how good it’s always been.