#the scorch trials rewrite

[stiles-o-dylan24]

|| Thomas x Reader || TST&TDC mini-rewrite || ∞ Fluff  Ω Angst ✤Smut

Part 1 - Remember ∞ Ω

Part 2 - Remember More of You ∞ Ω

Part 3 -Remember Me ∞ Ω

Part 4 -Remember, I’m Yours ∞ Ω ✤

[justinewt]

Trust is Like Fire - TMR REWRITE Chapter Nine

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

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Summary: Driving through the mountains, they found the Right Arm, or rather, the Right Arm found them. For a first interaction, being shot at wasn’t the worst the group had had to face. Aris was reunited with old friends he made when he was in the maze, Sonya and Harriet. The two took them to a camp further in the desert, where their group was hiding. Starting off the wrong foot, they managed to gain the trust of the man in charge, named Vince but as the night fell, the day took a much darker twist, ending in the cries and tears of a family being torn apart.

Words: 7k

Warnings: TMR Scorch Trials spoilers, angst, some fluff, bruises, blood, gun violence, ANGST (I understand Teresa thought she was doing the right thing but only Teresa’s slander will be accepted here)

They had been sitting in this car they took from Marcus, going as far as making him cry like a baby because of it, for a few hours now. The roads were empty and all they saw for miles on end was desert with sands, stones and dry bushes. Jorge was behind the wheel and drove them into the mountains where they would normally find people from the Right Arm group. After taking a nap for a while, her head resting on her brother's shoulder, Grace sat up and rubbed her eyes and met the amused glance Newt was giving her before looking out the window, staring into the distance. Despite the conditions, this had been one of the most restful sleeps she had since the WICKED facility. Just like in the glade, they had been through a lot in a rather short period of time, and it was exhausting for all of them but they all knew WICKED was never going to let it and leave them alone so it wouldn’t come to an end for now. It would be a long time before they would experience a moment of peace longer than a few hours. They drove through the mountains, crossing paths with rusty and crumbling metal pyramid towers from which cables hung from all sides in the void. Grace had no idea what it was. After a moment, Jorge stopped the car and she turned her head, looking forward with a slight frown, wondering what was up. They all stepped out of Bertha, staring at a bunch of decrepit cars blocking the road.

“Well, I guess we’re on foot.” Jorge stated. The group gathered around him and stood there in silence. They walked through what felt like a cemetery, searching the opened trunks, taking a peep inside the cars. Grace followed Thomas, looking around the mountains, she almost bumped into him when he stopped by a car. She walked past him to stand by his side and followed his gaze to the dusty windshield and saw a bullet hole. The second after he brought his hand up to it, a shot was fired and a bullet hit the hood of the car, making a loud metallic sound resounding in the valley. Thomas grabbed Grace’s shoulders and brought her to the ground along with him as he shielded his head with his arm out of reflex. As bullets rained down on them, Jorge ordered the others to take cover. For a few seconds after they stoppes, the shots echoed through the valley like thunder.

“Hey, is everyone okay out there?” Thomas enquired, while he, Grace and Jorge, hid together behind a car.

“We’re fine.” Teresa shouted in response.

“Anyone knows where those bloody shots came from?” Newt queried, but none of them had an answer.

“That son of a bitch, Marcus. He led us into an ambush.” Jorge spoke, furiously taking off his gloves. Grace then looked at Thomas motioned for her to stay hidden as he slowly stood up to look around. A few other bullets were shot at their car, and he took cover again.

“What do we do?” He asked Jorge. Both Grace and Thomas stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Yeah. Hold this.” Jorge handed them a sort of bomb and Grace hesitantly grabbed it, glancing at her brother in confusion. “We gotta create a diversion. You get ready to chuck it.” Jorge then then took out a device with a small red button on top and she got on her foot, leaning forward to stay hidden, the bomb in her hand while Jorge told the others to be ready to run back to the truck and cover their ears. He then lowered his voice to address Grace. “Ready? One… Two…”

“Drop it.” A female voice ordered from behind them, accompanied by the sound of a gun being reloaded. They froze for a few seconds until the woman urged them and raising her hands in the air, Grace put the bomb down, not daring to turn around, just looking at her brother from the corner of her eyes. Jorge gave in as well and dropped the device he held in his hand. “On your feet. Let’s go.” All three of them slowly got up and she repeated herself, yelling this time. With her sniper, she moved for them to get to the side. There were actually two women in front of them, both wearing masks hiding their lower faces. The one actively threatening them had long dreadlocks falling a little past her shoulders and the other one, standing behind her, light blond hair in a side braid. The two walked towards them, pushing them to back up and got the others to raise their hands and stand beside Thomas, Grace and Jorge. The one with dreadlocks kind of frowned, lowering her gun and mask. “Aris?”

“Oh my god. Harriet?”

“My god. What the hell are you doing here?” She quickly swalked over to him and drew him into a tight hug. The others watched them, all staring and frowning in confusion. Aris then greeted the other girl named Sonya. They seemed so relieved to see each other. Grace looked at the blond, and the only thought that crossed her mind was how pretty she looked.

“Aris, you’re lucky we didn’t shoot your dumb ass. You all right man?”

“Uh, what’s happening?” Minho enquired.

“We were in the maze together.” Aris explained, reminding them that he was indeed in a maze full of girls and was the only boy, just like Teresa and Grace were the only girls in a maze full of boys. For some reason the three of them had found themselves in the opposite maze to the one they should have been in. Harriet then walked to the edge of the road and whistled. Grace followed her with her eyes until she looked at Sonya and crossed her gaze. she still had a candid smile stretching her rosy lips. She had the prettiest hazel eyes Grace had ever seen and she couldn’t get her eyes off of her. It felt like there had been an instant connection between them, as if time had stopped and nothing else mattered around them. Grace was very unfamiliar with that sort of feeling and didn’t know what to do with it but stand there and smile and probably look somewhat stupid, but she didn’t care. The fluttering in her stomach made it feel like thousands of butterflies were flying in there and she couldn't help but be confused and taken aback and yet, looking at Sonya was strangely comforting. She didn't remember her being at WICKED with them and still, it was just as if they had always known each other, which was even more weird to her. When she felt Thomas’ hand on her shoulder, she was taken out of her thoughts and contemplation in the blink of an eye and glanced at her brother, disoriented. Thomas was looking at her and she could tell that his eyes were asking her what was going on, but she just turned around and saw all the armed figures standing on top of the mountains. They had definitely found the Right Arm. Grace had a soft grin on her face. She glanced at Sonya, who was talking to Aris and the latter looked at her, both smiling at each other. Grace couldn’t understand what happened and why she was feeling like this toward someone she had just met a moment before. She wondered if Sonya was feeling the same as her.

She pushed these thoughts away, putting them to the back of her mind and the group of teenagers followed Sonya and Harriet down a wide, natural tunnel in the moutain. At the end of the tunnel, a big truck was parked sideways to block the path. Sonya waved her arm around.

“Back it up, Joe!” The vehicle began to reverse, and they walked out the gallery. Outside, there was a whole bunch of people, standing near cars parked there. The group silently followed the two girls, Aris on their heel and Thomas and Grace walked side by side, looking around with a tiny hint of apprehension in the back of their eyes, their friends right behind them.

“We’re taking them to base.” Harriet told someone without stopping in her tracks.

“Wait, so, how did you guys get here?” Aris wondered.

“The Right Arm got us out.”

“Wait, wait.” Thomas spoke, accelerating his pace enough to approach Harriet. She caught his attention by talking about the Right Arm. Grace had thought they might have found them after everything they had gone through, but she couldn't be sure, until she said this. Harriet stopped by a car, her hand on the handle and turned toward Thomas. “The Right Arm? Do you know where they are?”

“Hop in.” She gestured with her head for them to get in the car as she opened the door, giving them a slight smile. Thomas remained silent for a second, glancing at the car and he kind of looked at his sister next to him before finally taking the lead and getting in the car. They couldn’t all fit in just this one car, so Grace and Teresa went with Thomas, a soldier behind the wheel and Harriet in the passenger seat, and the others were lead to a second vehicule. Grace let her gaze linger outside when she saw Sonya walk past the window. The latter glanced at her with sweetness in her eyes as she disappeared into another car with Newt, Minho, Aris and Siggy. They drove through desert for a while, but they eventually reached a large camp, with dozens of people walking around. The teenagers were looking at this new place with wide eyes. Sonya and Harriet walked them into the camp. “They’ve been planning this for over a year now. This is all for us.”

“You guys are lucky you found us when you did.” Sonya added. “We’re moving out at first light. Where’s Vince?”

“Somewhere over there, I think.” A man said, pointing in the distance. Sonya and Harriet walked in said direction.

“Who’s Vince?” Thomas asked.

“He’s the one who decides if you get to stay.” Harriet spoke, glancing at Sonya with a smirk.

“I thought the Right Arm was supposed to be an army.” Minho jumped in the conversation and when he had barely finished his sentence, the deep voice of a man rose on their right. That was probably this Vince they heard about.

“Yeah, we were. That is all that’s left of us.” He shrugged, showing around him as he walked towards them. He was a middle-aged man, with dark blond hair with a goatee and a mustache. “Lot of good people died getting us this far. Who are they?”

“They’re immunes.” Harriet replied. “Caught ‘em coming up the mountain.”

“Did you check ‘em?”

“I know this guy, Aris. I trust him” She said, pointing at her friend. Vince was very suspicious of the group of newcomers, staring them all down with his hooded eyes.

“Well, I don’t. Check ‘em.”

“Hey, boss…” Another guy approached them and Grace looked over her shoulder, wondering what he was doing. She didn’t have time to think she unexpectedly caught Brenda in her arms when the latter suddenly fell forward with a raspy gasp. Grace stumbled, almost losing her balance as she crouched down, frowning in worry and confusion. Jorge rushed towards her and Grace gently dropped her on the ground, stepping aside, helped up by Thomas. None of them knew what to do while Jorge tried calling out to Brenda, holding her in his arms. She had a sick complexion, and her lips were almost black. Grace wondered how none of them had noticed that before because it couldn't have happened all of a sudden. Vince crouched next to Jorge, a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on with her?”

“I don’t know. Brenda, are you all right? Brenda?” While Jorge was focused on her, Grace watched Vince as he stared at the bandage on her leg. She watched him pull it down and reveal a nasty crank bite. The veins on her calf were prominent and dark, like Winston when he had been infected. Now that she thought of him, it seemed so obvious that she had been infected. She looked exactly like he did at his worst. Upon seeing the bite, Vince jumped on his feet, swearing under his breath and he pulled out his gun, alerting everyone around that there was a crank in the camp. Thomas almost ran to Vince, shouting along with Jorge to stop Vince from shooting her.

“Listen, okay?” Thomas talked to him, ignoring his order to step back. Two men grabbed Jorge by the arms and dragged him away from Brenda. “Listen, listen. This just happened, okay? She’s not dangerous yet.”

“You shouldn’t have brought her here!”

“I know. I—” He pursed his lips, kind of looking down for a second.

“We let Cranks in here now, the safe haven doesn’t last a week! Step back!”

I understand, okay? I understand.” He tried to speak to Vince as calmly as possible. “All right, just- just liten. Please. Please, okay? I told her that you could help. Okay?” Vince didn’t lower his gun so Thomas kept talking, trying to convince him to let her go. “There’s got to be something you can do.”

“Yeah, there is.” He said, breathing loudly. A silence hung over them until he loaded his weapon. “I can put her out her misery.”

“No!” Jorge yelled, struggling against the two men holding him. Grace stared at the scene anxiously. Before he pulled the trigger, a woman jogged up to them, raising her voice at him.

“Vince, that’s enough! Let him go. Let him go!” Jorge was finally freed by the two Right Arm members. Grace kind of frowned, slowly stepping closer to Thomas as they both stared at the woman. She had no idea who the latter was.

“She’s infected, Doc. There’s nothing we can do for her.”

“No, but they can.” She was staring back at the two siblings with a smile on her face, like she knew them. Grace stood just a little behind her brother and she looked at him in confusion, as if he would have an answer, but he seemed as lost as her, squinting his eyes as he gaped at her. When their names crossed her lips, Grace slowly turned her head towards her, dumbfounded. “Hello, Thomas, Grace.”

“You know us?” Thomas asked.

“Interesting.” Her smile faded and she nodded, looking down at Brenda as she spoke. Vince stared at the two. They weren’t the only ones confused right now. “It makes sense they’d put you in the maze. Though I must admit…”  The doctor went to kneel beside Brenda, holding her wrist. “I was worried they’d kill you after what you did.”

“Wh- What we did?” 

She stayed silent for a brief moment, her hand on Brenda’s forehead before looking back at them. “The first time we spoke, you said you couldn’t take it anymore… watching your friends die, one by one. The last time we spoke, you gave me the coordinates of every WICKED compound, trial and lab.”

“They were our source.” Vince said, just realizing something that none of the two siblings even remembered. Thomas and Grace stared at the woman in silence, as if they were holding their breaths, processing what she said. Grace had no idea what he did remember from their time working for WICKED and even though she did vaguely remember something happened, she thought it only involved Thomas and that on her part, for some obscure reason, she had tried to shoot herself in one of the bathrooms of the facility, before Thomas bursted in. She wasn’t even sure if this was something that really happened or if it was actually just some sort of fever dream.

“We couldn’t have pulled all this off without them.” She added softly. Thomas and Grace looked around, shocked and puzzled, and couldn’t hold Vince’s gaze or anyone else’s. They had never felt so lost. The doctor ordered that Brenda be taken into the tent, probably the one that was to be used as the infirmary and bring the teenagers some warm clothes. They might be in a desert, but it wasn't as hot as when they were crossing the dunes a few days ago. Thomas and Grace looked ahead of them, where Teresa was standing and she had a stern face, as if something tragic had happened. She looked away. Grace frowned, wondering if she was upset because the doc just said how they had betrayed WICKED before being sent into the maze. It was just like when she tried telling them they should go back to the facility they had just escaped from. Grace stared at Teresa, feeling something was off with her. “Thomas, Grace, come on. I need to get some blood from you.”

She led them to the tent while some other guys carried Brenda to a bed. Her chest was heaving rapidly as she only took short breaths. The woman put thin tubes in the crook of their elbows, just like they did at the WICKED facility. Grace wondered why their blood seemed so much more valuable than anyone else’s. She also thought that now, she would have bruises on both her arms. Thomas didn’t have any bruises anymore unlike his sister, which led her to believe they didn’t take as much blood from him as they did from her. She couldn’t help but wonder why. It was strange. About a dozen of vials of blood had been taken from her alone and this was still something that troubled her. They were sat by Brenda’s bed, Jorge on the other side, his hand on the girl’s forehead.

“In the beginning, we were lost.” The doctor was walking around the tent, grabbing a few things here and there while blood was being drawn from the two teenagers. “All we knew for sure… was that the younger you were, the stronger your chances.”

“You worked for WICKED?” Thomas enquired quietly. She stopped what she was doing for a second and nodded.

“Long time ago.” Thomas and Grace glanced at Jorge, who also had worked for WICKED a long time ago. They turned their heads back to her when she continued to talk, busying herselfs with various vials and liquids, including their blood. “You know, at first, we had the best intentions. Find a cure, save the world. It was clear you kids were the key, because you were immune. But why? Eventually, we found an answer. An enzyme produced by the brains of the immune. Once separated from the bloodstream… It can serve as a powerful agent to slow the spread of the virus.”

“So, you found a cure?” Thomas and Grace glanced at each other. She remained silent, letting her brother speak because she had no idea what to say and wasn’t sure if it would be relevant to talk about how much blood WICKED took from her, without telling her why.

“Not exactly.” She shook her head, dashing their thin hopes with these two words. “The enzyme can’t be manufactured, only harvested from the immune. The young.” Grace stared into space, listening. “Of course, that didn’t stop WICKED. If they had their way… they’d sacrifice an entire generation. All for this. A gift of biology. Of evolution. But not meant for all of us.” She sat next to Jorge and carefully pricked Brenda with the syringe. As the liquid ran through her veins, she let out a long sigh and her breathing calmed down. Just a few seconds after the injection, she already seemed more peaceful. Thomas and Grace watched her face relax.

“How long will that give her?” He asked.

“It’s different for everyone. A few months maybe. But that’s the catch, isn’t it? She’ll always need more.” She stood up, leading Jorge outside to let them all rest. Jorge parted his lips to say something but the doctor spoke, assuring him Brenda would be fine and he reluctantly left the tent. The doctor put her gloves in a bin. “Thomas? You know she can’t come with us, right?” And on these words, as she didn’t receive any answer from him, she left. She was a really nice person. Grace looked down at the little dressing on her left arm and the fading bruises on her right. Now that they were alone, she wanted to express her thoughts.

“Thomas…” At the mention of her name, he turned his head towards her. “what if some of us were like, more immune? That this enzyme produced by our brains was more… I don’t know, effective in some? And therefore, more interesting for WICKED… it would explain why they wanted so much blood from me. From us.” Despair quickly tainted her voice. “If what's in our blood has so much worth to them, they wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice us. We saw what they did to the others.”

“They won’t get to us, okay? We’re safe here, with the Right Arm... I won’t let them take any of us. I won’t let them take you.” She looked up at him and he drew her into a tight hug. They eventually broke their embrace after holding each other for a minute and stood up, putting on their jackets before heading out. Grace took a step towards the entrance of the tent, and turned around when she didn’t hear her brother follow her. She watched him grab something next to Brenda, on the bed and approached. First thinking it might be some old lighter, it actually had a picture inside of it. Brenda’s voice caught their attention. They hadn’t realized she had woken up.

“He was my brother.”

“Hey. Sorry.” He gave it back to her, sitting down. Grace followed his lead and sat beside him. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“You remind me of him.” She said to Thomas, staring at the little object. “He always saw the best in people.”

“Where is he now?” Grace asked quietly. Brenda turned on her side, resting her head on her arm and she shook her head.

“I don’t know. When we were kids… we were taken in by one of WICKED’s camps. They gave us a bunch of tests. They didn’t want me. They wanted him, though. They didn’t even let me say goodbye.” As she spoke, Grace was reminded of that faint memory of their mother cuddling them before they were taken away by WICKED. They barely had time to say goodbye to her and didn’t even remember her name.

“What was his name?” Thomas asked.

“George.” She replied with a smile. He pulled out the little figurine made by Chuck and showed it to Brenda.

“That was Chuck.”

“How did he die?” She asked softly after observing the statuette. There was a brief silence.

“Saving my life.” Grace looked down at her feet, fidgeting with her fingers. She lifted her head up when she felt him put a hand on her shoulder as he stood up. She got up in turn while he told Brenda to get some rest. Staring at the dry desert floor, Grace exited the tent after Thomas. She needed to get some fresh air. Jorge was standing right outside the tent. She looked up after almost bumping into her brother when he stopped in his tracks. Both Thomas and Grace rose their eyebrows in surprise when Jorge wrapped his arms around Thomas and then Grace, calling them “brother” and “sister” in Spanish. This wasn’t something they expected from Jorge, but he was very grateful for their help to save Brenda.

“If anything were to happen to her, I--”

“I know, I know.” Thomas patted him on the shoulder. He nodded toward the inside of the tent with his head, encouraging him to go see her now that she was awake.

“I guess I owe you, now.” He told them before entering the tent, sketching a friendly smile. The two siblings glanced at each other and stepped away. As they walked through the camp to go find their friends, Harriet and Sonya were chatting and laughing with their old pal, Aris. They found Minho, Newt and Siggy on top of a small cliff. They sat near them. Teresa was nowhere to be seen.

“I wish Alby could’ve seen all this.” Thomas declared. They all nodded at his statement.

“And Winston.” Siggy added.

“And Chuck.” He looked at the figurine in his hands.

“He’d be proud of you, you know, Tommy.” Newt told him. Siggy shouted at Aris, calling out to him and he waved at them.

“Hey Guys!” Grace looked at Sonya and knew she was looking back at her when she reacted to her waving. Harriet seemingly saw the interaction and turned her head to her friend, nudging her lightly. Grace then looked around and could see that the four boys, at least Minho, Newt and Thomas seemed to have noticed, and were looking at her with an amused smile as she was clearly trying to hide her infatuation for Sonya. They could tell the two girls liked each other already but none of them said anything about it.

“I kinda like that kid.” Siggy said, smiling but he got confused when he saw the amusement on their faces. “Why are y’all laughing?”

“Nothing.” Newt shrugged it off with a smirk and Minho changed the subject of conversation.

“Yeah. I still don’t trust him, though.” The five of them chuckled.

“Hey, where’s Teresa?” Thomas then enquired. It got Grace looking around, seeing she was still no where near them. She would usually stick with them, especially in such foreign environment where she didn't know anyone but she was somewhere on her own. Newt quickly gave them an answer, showing the cliff behind them.

“She went up there.” In the distance, they saw Teresa's silhouette standing out against the sky, the bottom of her coat floating in the breeze. Grace frowned, wondering what was up with her and it reminded her of the moment the doctor recognized them and said outloud how they apparently betrayed WICKED. Back there, Teresa seemed somewhat disappointed and upset but held it together. Thomas stood up and went to join Teresa up on the cliff. 

Daylight fading as night drew near, Grace stared into space, overwhelming herself with doubts and questions about Teresa strange behavior. She had never been as close to her as Thomas was so she couldn’t be sure what was going through her head at the moment. Grace sighed silently and gathering her hair over her shoulder with her hand, she lay down looking at the sky, placing her arm under her head. She ended up closing her eyes, letting her mind wander in her memory, reviewing more or less clear memories. She could hear the engines of WICKED aircrafts in the distance, as if they were really there but when she opened her eyes, the noises didn't go away and she stood up, glancing at the boys nearby and they all looked around, soon seeing the lights of said WICKED aircrafts and she widened her eyes. WICKED found them, after all their efforts to escape from the organization, they had been found. She couldn't believe it but... of course, Teresa was behind this. It made no doubt. She wanted them all to go back to WICKED and clearly said it to Thomas and Grace back in the desert, they should have known she would do something like this. The moments that were to follow were perhaps going to be a screaming bloodbath because of her delusion.

They barely had time to stand up. A helicopter launched a missile at the camp. They were thrown backwards by the force of the explosion below and Grace groaned as she fell on a rock. More bombs were dropped on them. Newt was the closest to her and he helped her up. Grace asked where her brother was since he was yet to return but the situation was escalating quickly and none of them knew where he was nor had the time to find out so they ran with Minho and Siggy, not knowing where to go as the camp was surrounded by WICKED soldiers. They were shooting on sight, immobilizing anyone who fled with the electric projectiles fired by their large guns. The four teenagers crouched behind metal barrels, jumping when another explosion sounded. Not far, they saw Vince and Harriet near a truck. He shouted for her to bring more ammunition as he fired relentlessly at the soldiers.

“Vince! Harriet!” Minho called out to them, and they rushed to the two Right Arm members. He talked to them, yelling to be heard. “How can we help?”

“You need to cover us!” Harriet stated.

“Hey! Do you know how to use this thing?” Vince handed his rifle to Minho as the latter nodded while he hurriedly loaded the submachine gun in the back of the pickup. Siggy and Grace helped Harriet, quickly grabbing a couple of smaller guns and Newt was given a sniper. Grace wasn’t exactly the most comfortable holding a gun but she tried to stay calm, only firing when she was sure she wouldn’t hit an ally. A bullet flew out of her weapon and a soldier lost his balance and fell down with a groan. She widened her eyes, staring at the body, taking quick breaths. It wasn’t the first time she saw someone die, but it was the first time she killed.  She quickly pulled herself together and continued to cover Vince. Newt, Minho, Harriet and Siggy by her sides, shooting with more ease than her but she was getting the hang of it.

“Vince, hurry up! There’s too many of them.” Newt exclaimed in an alarming tone. Not long after Siggy told them he was out of ammunition, Grace heard her own gun click and she realized she didn't have any bullets left either. Next thing she knew, she heard a clicking sound in the truck and Vince swearing. She had no time to process what was happening and fell to her knees. For a few seconds an intense pain shot through her body which suddenly stiffened and she crashed on the ground, unable to think, speak or move at all, just staring into space, feeling like she was paralyzed and couldn’t take deep breaths. Her lips quivered a bit as she tried to say her brother’s name, but no sound came out of her mouth. She felt someone grabbing her by the armpits and lifting her up but she was like a dead weight, her limbs hanging heavily and could do nothing but blankly watch as the soldiers tied her and her friends up. She kept trying to say her brother’s name, as if it was going to make him appear nearby to save them, but the sound she made was more like a gasp like when you're out of breath after running. By the time she could feel her limbs again, she was completely restrained, on her knees, lined up with the other members of the Right Arm but her and her friends were in the first row of the group of captives. It was the worst possible scenario. All their efforts to escape from WICKED had been ruined because of Teresa.

“How many did we get?” Grace lifted her head up upon hearing Janson’s voice. Strands of hair in her face, she stared at him.

“All of them. Give or take.” A soldier told him.

“Give or take what?”

“Well, they lost a few.” While they spoke, another soldier was passing behind the teenagers, scanning the tracking tags put by WICKED on the back of their neck. Grace frowned as the guard pushed her hair out of the way.

“B-2.” He stated before moving on to the next. Grace wouldn’t take her eyes off of Janson, an angry glower on her face. He looked around.

“Where’s Thomas? Where’s your brother?” He enquired, leaning down to grab her face, almost spitting his question through his gritted teeth. He held her face so hard it was as if he was trying to break her jaw.

“Right here.” When his voice rose in the background, Janson suddenly let go of her, immidietaly turning around to look where the voice was coming from. And there he was. Grace was relieved to see him but at the same time, her concern for him grew. She mumbled his name inaudibly. Soldiers surrounded him and one pushed him bluntly in Janson's direction. He had a smirk on his face.

“Thomas.” He punched him hard in the stomach and ordered a guard to line him up with the others. At the moment of the blow, Grace protested, trying to get up but was pushed back down by a guard. She watched her brother as he was forced to his knees right next to her. He straightened up and exchanged a look of mixed concern and relief with her. She would have taken him in her arms if they weren’t tied up. Janson approached a man nearby. “Okay. Bring her in.”

“Why didn’t you run?” Minho asked Thomas quietly. The latter sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m tired of running.” It was definitely not the only reason, and she was aware of it because she knew him. He came back for his friends and sister. He couldn’t leave them behind and that warmed her heart in this tragic turn of events. A large aircraft flew out of the clouds and over their heads, blinding them with its headlights kicking up dust and sand as it landed, making them squint their eyes. Four guards walked out, the Dr. Paige right behind them.

“Is this all of them?” She walked up to Janson.

“Most of them. It’ll be enough.” He assured.

“Start loading them in.”

“Yes, ma’am. Okay, you heard. Let’s go! Get ‘em on!” On his command, soldiers started picking up people and leading them to the engine, straight up dragging the most reluctant ones. The woman stepped toward the teenagers and waved at a soldier to bring Thomas and Grace. They were forced up and pushed towards her.

“Hello, Thomas. Hello, Grace.” She greeted them with an oddly sweet voice and they just stared at her, dumbfounded to see her alive after they literally saw a recording of her shoot her brains out. Even though, after all the shit WICKED pulled on them, another lie wasn’t so surprising. Accompanied by a soldier, Teresa appeared in their sight. Paige glanced at her. “I’m glad your safe.”

“What the hell?” Minho exclaimed.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Newt was understandably confused.

“She’s with them.” Thomas stated bitterly. Everyone either looked at Thomas, shocked by the news, or stared directly at Teresa. Janson approached.

“Teresa’s always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Once we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry.” She said, looking at her peers. “I had no choice. This is the only way. We have to find a cure.”

“She’s right. This is all a mean to an end.” Paige added. “You used to understand that, Thomas. You too, Grace. No matter what you think of me… I am not a monster. I’m a doctor. I swore an oath to find a cure! No matter the cost.” They all remained silent at her explanation. Teresa sided with WICKED when they didn’t care about any of them. They were just necessary sacrifice for their own survival. “I just need more time.”

“More blood.” The voice of the woman that told Thomas and Grace about their betrayal of WICKED rose behind them.

“Hello, Mary. I hoped we’d meet again. I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

“I’m sorry about a lot of things too. But not this. At least my conscience is clear.”

“So is mine.” Paige replied quietly. Thomas and Grace jumped at the sharp sound of a bullet being shot. He grabbed his sister by the arm instinctively. Blood soaked Mary’s shirt as she slowly looked down at her stomach and collapsed. Vince shouted her name, struggling against the soldiers and he rushed towards her. Grace followed Thomas’ gaze and saw Janson, holding a gun in the direction of the doctor. Thomas tightened his grip over Grace’s arm, keeping her as close to him as possible and stared at Teresa in shock.

“Come on, Janson. Load them up.” Paige turned around, walking back to the aircraft. Teresa only seemed to realize the gravity of the situation now. “All these people. Get rid of them. Let’s go. Let’s go!”

Moving his hand from holding his arm to resting on her shoulder, she saw him discreetly slip his free hand inside his jacket while a soldier started pushing the two siblings towards the aircraft. He pulled out whatever he was reaching for, and Grace stepped away when he turned around and violently struck the soldier with his elbow, knocking him down. What he held in his hands was actually Jorge’s small bomb and detonator and he erratically shouted to everyone to stand back, catching Janson and Paige’s attention. The soldiers held their guns at Thomas and Janson ran towards them, raising his hands.

“Hold your fire!” For a moment, they yelled back and forth, their voices overlapping, making it hard to understand what they were saying.

“Stand back. Let ‘em go.” Thomas requested, pointing at the aircraft with his hand holding the detonator.

“Thomas, put it down.”

“Let ‘em all go!” He shouted again.

“You know I can’t do that.” Paige joined in, raising her voice.

“Thomas, please stop.” Teresa begged. “I made a deal with them. They promised we’d be safe. All of us.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you now?” His voice quivered slightly. Grace could hear the hurt, even though he wasn’t speaking loudly.

“It’s true. It was her only condition.” Paige assured.

“Shut up!”

“Everything can go back to the way it was. Thomas… do you really want all of them to die?”

“Listen to her, Thomas. Think about what you’re doing.” Janson said, getting annoyed at the teenager’s relentlessness. Grace glanced at Minho, Newt and Siggy and they slowly walked over to Thomas, standing around him.

“We’re with you, Thomas.” Newt declared. Paige and Teresa shook their head, telling him not to do it. But it didn’t matter to them, his friends would stick with him until the end.

“Do it, Thomas.” Minho encouraged. Thomas looked at Dr. Paige.

“We’re not going back there.” He held up the bomb in front of him, his thumb hovering over the button on top. “It’s the only way.”

They all closed their eyes as he was about to detonate the bomb. Paige yelled his name when suddenly, the loud horn of a vehicle sounded nearby. They turned their heads towards the car speeding through the camp, not knowing what was going on. Soldiers tried firing at the vehicle, but it was useless. Whoever was driving drove into a helicopter. The engine fell to the side, its blades spinning rapidly and hitting the ground, suddenly coming loose and breaking into sharp pieces that flew all over the place. Thomas threw himself to the ground to avoid getting hit. Everyone started running in all directions, screaming, shouting at each other. It turned into complete chaos in seconds.

“You good?” He asked his friends and sister, standing nearby.

“Freeze! Drop it, kid!” A soldier ordered Thomas to let go off the bomb but he glanced down at it, detonating it and throwing it at him and his colleagues. He turned around to the others, yelling at them to run and get down. They managed to get away a bit and shielded their faces with their arms when a blinding explotion blew the area up. Grace crawled to the side and stood up, looking around in panick. There were thick clouds of dust that had been kicked up and she didn't know where her brother or even her friends had gone. She heard shots being fired and gruntings but before she could determine where the sounds came from, she saw Vince jump in the back of the pick-up and shoot into the crowd of soldiers with the submachine gun. She ran into her brother, and they found the others, trying to flee from the soldiers who were getting dangerously close to them. 

Minho picked up a gun on the ground, yelling at them to go, firing at the soldiers. As Grace was just running past him, Minho ran out of ammunition and got shot at by one of their electric guns. She stepped away, glancing over her shoulder, hearing her brother calling out to his friend. She turned around, about to keep running to join Thomas, Newt and Siggy when suddenly, she felt this sharp pain in her back, her body stiffening up before it was shaken with tremors. Thomas screamed at the top of his lungs, crying out her name but it was too late for them to save Minho and Grace. She tried to crawl away, but her limbs were rigid and it was such strenuous effort for nothing, she sighed and watched her brother try to run to them, yelling their names as they were picked up and dragged away by soldiers. Grace felt a tear roll down her cheek as she tried to call out for her brother but just like the first time they were stunned, no sound would come out of her mouth. She was paralyzed and every effort to move even just her arm or hand was so straining that she found herself staring blankly at her brother and friends in the distance, feeling the heels of her shoes dig lines into the sand as they passed. Thomas was trying to run in their direction, calling out for them, his voice breaking as he screamed his sister's name for the umpteenth time. Jorge grabbed him to stop him from running into the wolf's mouth in a desperate attempt to save them. He pulled him away as they ran but he struggled against him. She knew he must have felt guilty to have to watch two people he cared about being taken away, especially after telling Grace he wouldn't let WICKED take them away, and now this happened.

To Minho, and his sister, nonetheless.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Published (16/01/2023) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[maddie0101]

(n.) When two people love each other, but are too shy to admit it, yet they show it anyway.

₪ In which the only girl in the glade doesn’t remember her own best friend, who she fell for, but never got the chance to tell him.

(Thomas tmr x ofc) 18+ ONLY

Note: This series is already completed. I am transferring it to Tumblr from my Wattpad. (I am rewriting it because I am ocd asf.) lmfao. Anyways…I hope y’all come to love my story and Blake 🫶🏼 If you don’t want to wait to read it, my wattpad is @Maddie5139. I really hope I’m not as bad as I think I am at writing, so I do apologize if it isn’t up to par or something sounds odd. I’m still in the learning process and only started writing in July of 2023.

This is a slow burn fic!

♡ Indicates smut

Maze Runner Cast

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven (Editing)

Chapter eight (Editing)

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen ♡

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty one

Chapter twenty two

Chapter twenty three

Scorch Trials Cast

Chapter twenty four

Chapter twenty five

Chapter twenty six ♡

Chapter twenty seven

Chapter twenty eight

Chapter twenty nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty one

Chapter thirty two

Chapter thirty three

Chapter thirty four

Chapter thirty five

Chapter thirty six

Chapter thirty seven

Chapter thirty eight

Chapter thirty nine

Chapter forty

Chapter forty one

Chapter forty two

Chapter forty three

Chapter forty four

Chapter forty five

Chapter forty six

Chapter forty seven

Death Cure Cast

Chapter forty eight

Chapter forty nine

Chapter fifty

Chapter fifty one

Chapter fifty two

Chapter fifty three

Chapter fifty four

Chapter fifty five

Chapter fifty six

Chapter fifty seven

Chapter fifty eight

Chapter fifty nine

Chapter sixty

Chapter sixty one

Chapter sixty two

Chapter sixty three

Chapter sixty four

Chapter sixty five

Chapter sixty six

Chapter sixty seven

Chapter sixty eight

Chapter sixty nine

Chapter seventy

Chapter seventy one

Chapter seventy two ♡

Epilogue

[volterran-wine]

𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐱 - A New Moon Rewrite

𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚, 𝟏𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔

• ──── Aro

In hindsight Aro should have known the day would turn out for the worse. The temperature had risen above the average mean for March, the sun was so strong some of the early spring blooms had burnt in their gardens. Scarlet Poppies had bloomed and died in record time across the countryside and in their palace, leaving behind an intoxicating and sickening smell. While the elements meant nothing to their immortal existence, something felt incredibly off as they prepared to celebrate St. Marcus’ Day. 

Afton had alerted the three of them of Edward’s arrival, not even bothering to use the entrance meant for vampires — the boy had come right off of the scorching hot piazza. It was sheer luck that no humans had seen him, for the clock had already struck eleven and the sun hung high above. But what had truly unnerved Aro was how their resident burglar described the vampire. Gaunt, pale, haggard … somehow embodying death more than the rest of them did; and Demetri was now guiding the sickly looking vampire to their private solar. They had convened to discuss an upcoming trial, but now they were conversing in the old tongues in order to fall into familiar patterns once more. 

Aro let his mind wander, a tidal wave of languages long forgotten and dead became a steady stream in his mind; no fledgling vampire would poke around his mind today.

Continue Reading at AO3

Another treat from during this celebration!

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicmas23 Day 5: Smoke & Mirrors

Good evening!

Tonight is a snippet from an upcoming one-shot, Smoke & Mirrors. It's a canon AU where Alice ended up going South as soon as she wakes up, and ends up being a competing Southern Warlord. It's meant to be a fun little one shot, set around Breaking Dawn, but needs major edits and rewrites, so I thought a snippet from the OG draft might be fun.

I'm half asleep, so I'll bid you all adieu and I hope you enjoy this!

smoke & mirrors.

Here’s the thing about the Southern Wars.

You ended up knowing everyone who lives long enough. Jasper knows Matteo, Carmela, and Rodrigo far better than he’d like to know people he tried to kill for half a century. He knows Lyric from Baja is a chameleon who wefts and weaves herself into whatever army holds the strongest territory; he knows Tomas as someone who really needs to be put down for good but he’s just so likeable everyone ignores his less appealing ‘hobbies’. And Katya who has fought for seventy years yet never actually killed anyone (Matteo is a soft-touch when it comes to Katya, that’s an open secret.)

At any one time, he knows someone who can kill, kidnap, rob, acquire, destroy, or duplicate anything in the known world. He tries to keep most of that close to the vest, preferring for the Cullens not to know that if shit comes to shove, he can have Bella abducted and in a safe house in less than 12 hours without a single trace, let alone anyone linking it to the Cullens. 

Hell, if Carlisle ever wanted a Pope’s skull to adorn his study, he knows a guy. It would cost a pretty penny and probably take the best part of a month, but he could make it happen. The same way he’s gotten more than just Cullen paperwork from Jenks; or that at least sixty percent of the cash he’s allocated annually goes towards helping those same old ‘friends’. 

It should also be noted that ‘friends’ is used ironically - other than Peter or Charlotte, any one of those people would kill him without a second thought if he was no longer useful. He feels the same about them. At a certain point, all the shit they went through and survived created some strange kind of respect and understanding. Veterans on opposing sides of a war. 

(It also needs to be noted that for all of the shit that has rained down on the family since Bella Swan tripped and stumbled into their lives, that he probably could have called in a favour for an extra set of hands. But Peter and Charlotte were unavailable, and calling in that kind of favour set a precedent he hadn’t wanted to deal with at the time, so he’d kept quiet and gotten the job done himself.)

Which is just a fancy way to say that when Irina bursts in and admits she told the fuckin’ Volturi about Renesmee, the Immortal Child, he’s already flipping through his mental Rolodex of assets to get them out of this mess. It’s a more practical option than, say, snapping Irina into bite-sized pieces to give her time to think about her actions. 

This is a problem. A big one. The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. 

It’s the first public trial that the Volturi has held since the Wars (he was only a few years out of being a newborn, and he barely remembers in it through the haze of bloodlust and irritation, trying to keep the freshest newborns contained and civil as the Kings ruled Helena a dangerous criminal and scorched the entire coven from existence. He remembers Maria being quiet for a few days afterwards, but the specifics of the entire event were lost to him.) 

And that trial was only Caius, Aro, Dimitri, and the Twins. The Cullens’ charges (exposing themselves with the van incident, telling Bella, Edward’s attempt at exposing himself in Volterra, the whole Victoria debacle, waiting more than a year to change Bella, Charlie Swan, and now a hybrid child) were… difficult to challenge. 

The entire court was coming. 

(Sometimes he wonders if his role in this family has become that of the fixer. The one that is constantly bailing out the sinking ship, patching holes, and making sure all arms and legs are inside the proverbial vehicle - St Cloud, Dell Rapids, Senoia… Thirty years of that and, well, he’s getting tired.)

He gets up and disappears when Irina arrives, make-up smeared and emotions pinging off the walls like super balls, even though he knows what’s coming. He can practically sense it now. 

(The thing about the Southern Wars is that, even after you turn your back on it, you never seem to stop fighting some kind of battle.)

//

It’s less than six hours before everyone has to be informed of Irina’s faux pas, and it goes about as well as Jasper expected. 

He sits on the stairs as Edward and Rose and Carlisle argue, Jacob making unhelpful comments as he eats some vile human snack, and Irina looks vaguely ill and he wonders what the fuck Irina was thinking. If she wanted answers, justice, she should have come straight to the Cullens. This wasn’t so much as overkill, as nuking the planet from space after an oil spill. 

(He also wants to know how exactly she left Volterra to warn them. Did Aro dismiss her? Send her? Did she just slip out and hope no one noticed?)

The rot is truly set in with the Volturi; he’s heard Maria’s rants about them, about how power curdles and corrupts. How it becomes less about protection and more about control. And when you have vaults and vaults of money and jewels and artwork and books, you look for something much, much rarer and unique to collect. Something that cannot be bought or stolen. They are no one’s benevolent overlords, no loving fathers of their people - they are a bullet fired wildly into a crowd, striking down the slow, the ignorant, and the vulnerable. 

Very, very rarely do the actually guilty fall. That’s why this is such a bitter pill to swallow, such a disaster - Aro is coming for a trial, with the biggest audience he can find, to cull the Cullens and pick over the carcass. Justice and honesty and truth have no place here. 

(Helena was no criminal. Just trying to salvage a terrible situation her very best. Whomever fed her to the wolves was more of a criminal than Helena ever came close to being. She was nobody’s enemy.)

This is bad, very bad.   

Emmett comes over to him, his normally jovial expression replaced with something that was both tired and solemn.

“This is a mess,” Emmett says, and that’s his brother. Always the diplomat. 

This isn’t a mess. He can clean up messes. 

He offers a nod, and they both look over as Rosalie sends something flying - an ugly ceramic egg the size of a soccer ball that is nobody’s favourite, so the only one who flinches is Jacob. 

“We don’t have many options,” he finally says, and he feels the flutter of Emmett’s hope and relief against him; this is what his brother wants. Jasper’s bailed them out of the last… three of Edward’s debacles, of course the family veteran has an escape hatch already planned and built, a way that they get to keep their heads. 

(He wants to warn Emmett, the eternal optimist that he’s really only flipping names over in his head, working out who will give them the best advantage. Who owes him and who he already owes and who is nearby and who he can get in touch with the fastest. Do they need witnesses or an army or some combination of both?  There are a million balls in the air, even though the answer is right there because he wants to double check and make sure that he hasn’t missed anything - a better choice.)

He heaves a breath and he doesn’t want to do this. 

Of all the old friends he could call on, she’s the name that is right below Maria’s on the list of people he doesn’t want to owe a favour to. Calling her or Maria in right now is the equivalent of hitting the big red self-destruct button. 

But he continues to roll that choice around in his mind and it’s the right choice. She’s the right choice. 

And even if he thinks that a couple of decades in the catacombs of Volterra would teach Edward and Bella to be a hell of a lot less selfish and self-absorbed (and let the kid be raised by someone with a little more life experience, like Rose or Esme), the rest of the family doesn’t deserve to go down with them. Stupidity isn’t a crime. Carlisle’s love for his son isn’t a crime. 

“Let me make a call.”

—

Peter is glad to hear from him right up until Jasper explains why he’s calling - Edward, the child, Irina, the Volturi. 

“Is now a good time to mention that Yuri’s set-up camp permanently?” Peter asks, the strain in his voice obvious. 

No. No it’s absolutely not, but it puts more pieces into place, that maybe the Volturi are looking for more than to simply put the Cullens into their place. Yuri’s little clan of followers that ebbs and flows have transitioned from Hong Kong to Tokyo to Osaka. One of the great smugglers, he’d done deals with Maria for centuries and the fact that Yuri has left his home for America implies many, many things about the Volturi’s reach. 

He wonders if Li Jie is even still in China. If Li Jie has fallen, that would explain a lot. 

(Politics is a dirty word in their world. Carlisle refuses to engage in it, and he understands - sort of. For all their 

“He run into any kind of trouble?” He finally asks. 

“Not that he mentioned. Just said something about American hospitality. Just a heads up - he might need papers or shit. Where do you need me?”

That was Peter - and Charlotte - in a nutshell. There was nothing they wouldn’t drop to help, to swoop in with an extra set of hands. 

“I need you to track someone down for me,” he says, leaning against the wall. “We’ll need you at the trial, but there’s someone who I need to make sure this…” Doesn’t turn into an irreversible shit-show. Remember when Carmela tried to take Baja, Peter? That’s small potatoes compared to what the Cullens have brought down around our ears. We need a hail-Mary, miracle kind of help.

He explains what he needs carefully; what direction he thinks might work the best. He’s going to need to blackmail and bribe Tomas to make an appearance because if it comes to a fight, Tomas will go down with teeth and nails still slashing and take a very pretty pound of flesh with him. 

Peter is silent on the other end of the phone. “Major, you’re asking for a miracle,” he says finally. “No one has heard from her since she fucked off. If she’s still alive, she can’t possibly be in the US anymore. And I can tell you that she’s been written off as dead for decades by almost everyone.”

“I don’t believe that.” He can’t. Both Plan A and Plan B involve her presence, no one ever wielded an army like she did. He needs her insight, he needs her skill, and he needs her reputation. “And neither do you.”

Silence and the sound of someone fumbling at the phone.

“Jasper.” Charlotte’s on the phone now. “Peter’s being dramatic, we can look but we’re going to need…”

“I’ll transfer the cash straight away. We need the fastest possible turn around, Char. We don’t have enough time.”

Charlotte sighs. “We’ll do our best, Major.”

—

It’s two days later when some semblance of… well, not a plan, but a direction is coming together. Tracking down the right people was half the battle, but he was nearly certain that he’d get confirmation today. 

The rest of the family knew he was working on something, some way to get them out of this mess that wouldn’t humiliate Aro, or call into question the validity of the laws as a whole. Carlisle was very clear that they didn’t want some kind of political uprising or rebellion. Just enough time to explain Bella’s pregnancy, confirm that it was entirely unplanned and not some kind of master plan, and part as friends. 

Jasper wasn’t holding out much hope for that last part. 

Gathered around the dining room table - the family’s war room, when such a thing was needed. Jacob was somehow still eating, and Irina had remained in Forks  - she had clearly decided that Carlisle’s brand of ‘I’m not mad, just Disappointed’ was preferential to going back to Alaska, where Tanya and Eleazar would be waiting to rip her a new asshole - proverbially - for going anywhere near Italy. Let alone without even talking to the Cullens before she started throwing around wild accusations. 

It had been a long week that was only going to get longer - which he could see in the tension of the rest of the family.

“The first thing you need to accept is that this isn’t a trial.” His voice is flat and unfriendly. The child is cradled awkwardly in Edward’s arms, holding onto some mercifully silent toy, fixated on it. He absently wonders if drowning it in the bathtub would be a suitable penance to stop Aro in his tracks. 

But the look in Edward’s eyes at that stray thought is enough. And then Jasper wonders, idly, if this devotion and attachment to the child will last; after all, vampires don’t have offspring. They have no instinct for a dependent child - the connection between a vampire and their creator was nothing like that of parent and child (especially an infant), nor was the connection between coven members. There was every chance that any maternal connection to Renesmee that Bella had would fade after her newborn year, and decay the further she left her humanity behind. 

If they survive this, it’ll be an interesting case study, if nothing else. 

“There is every reason to assume that this ‘visit’ is intended to be an execution,” Jasper continues, and Esme flinches. “I can’t predict whether Aro will opt to sentence some of us, or all of us, or what his plan is. But the plan is for someone to die for this. To put us in our place. That is why he’s bringing an audience - to bear witness to our crimes. And before you say it Rose, we’re guilty by association - the fact we didn’t eliminate Bella after the van accident is a crime in Aro’s view.”

Rosalie frowned, and he could taste her worry on the air. 

“Our best course of action is to gather our own witnesses so that the trial is fair,” he continued. “That the baby is not an Immortal Child, but someone who grows and evolves, and therefore can change and learn. And to remind all three of the Kings that Aro was aware of the van accident, Bella’s knowledge of us, and the incident with James when she was in Volterra. We were given permission to continue as we were to minimise notice from the community. We weren’t charged with any crimes then, and it would look… unseemly to retroactively charge us now.”

“So what do we do?” Jacob asks. Irina looks strained, her hands teasing at a piece of ribbon. 

“I have a contact that I will be reaching out to,” he said grimly. “She’ll be an asset if she’s willing to help us and if I can find her - she’ll have contacts to other potential witnesses, insight into this visit from the Volturi, and stand as a completely neutral witness.” 

“And a Southern Warlord,” Edward sounds aghast, and Bella scoops up the child, her hand smoothing down the red curls. “You’re bringing one of them here?”

“You aren’t considering bringing Maria to Forks?” Carlisle asked uneasily. 

“That would be…” Rosalie began, already getting agitated. 

“A slaughter,” Edward finished, and Jasper resisted the urge to roll his eyes at them. As if Maria didn’t have the control to move about the human world; generally, Maria only pulled a ‘Calgary’ when she was trying to make a point. 

“It’s not Maria,” he said through clenched teeth. “I have some old contacts from the South who can assist us. I’ll need to be in Louisiana by Saturday morning to try and convince her.”

Carlisle still looked uneasy but Rosalie had backed off. Edward was still scowling. 

“If you prefer, I can just drown it and hope that buys us some grace?” Jasper said, his tone prickly, and both Bella and Jacob let out sounds of horror - Bella thrusting the baby at Esme to try and approach Jasper with violence in her eyes, but Edward grabbed her before she could get any closer. 

“That was unnecessary,” Esme said disapprovingly, her hand cupping the back of the child’s head. 

“And dramatic,” Edward is gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to punch Jasper himself. 

“I am trying to protect us,” Jasper replied shortly. “I am trying to get us out of this with minimal loss of life. Frankly, I don’t have much hope for Irina or Edward or Bella or … Renesmee, but if there is the slimmest possible chance that I can keep the rest of you alive and free, I will take it.”

Silence. 

“I can get you a flight to New Orleans Friday night,” Rosalie said, and that thread of fear was back. 

“Make it two,” Edward said, releasing Bella. “I’ll come with you."

“No.” Jasper said.

“Jasper, it might be wiser to go in pairs,” Carlisle said. “In these circumstances, I don’t think setting off alone is ideal.”

“No. It’s a bad idea.”

“Yes. You said it yourself - we have to convince her. If I know what she’s thinking, we can use it. And I want to meet our ‘saviour’,” Edward said, sarcasm and irritation pouring off him. 

“She’s not known for playing nice with others, Edward,” Jasper felt tired, as if his brother was being as difficult as he knew how to be on purpose. “And she can sniff out an agenda before you’ve even opened your mouth. If you want someone to accompany me, Emmett’s the best choice.” Emmett wore his emotions on his sleeve, and the most complex agenda his brother had ever had was to replace Rosalie’s ruined Louboutins before she noticed they’d been destroyed. 

Hell, he’d probably befriend her, and that could only help their cause. 

“Edward is the best choice,” Carlisle said reluctantly. “He can give us insight, even if she refuses to help.”

Carlisle’s not wrong and Jasper hates it. She’s going to need delicate handling, and Edward rarely takes advice from anyone who isn’t Carlisle. The absolutely last thing they need is for Edward to make demands or threats and piss her off. Then they’ll be dealing with an angry veteran and the Volturi. 

“Fine.” His tone is enough to let everyone at the table that he is not happy. “But I need to take the lead. Pissing her off with just make more trouble for us. And if we fuck this up, Maria is our next option. And you know Maria will want her pound of flesh if it works out in our favour.”

That is a proper threat, a tangible one that the entire family sans Bella feels the weight of; Irina looks wary and Jacob looks confused.  

“We will follow your lead, Jasper,” Carlisle says finally, with resignation. “Edward will go with you.”

“The rest of you should reach out to any friends we have. Anyone who will witness the trial. No one is obliged to fight on our behalf or even stay - but they can meet Renesmee and see that she isn’t an Immortal Child. That we did not break the laws.” 

He looks at them. “This isn’t so much about Renesmee or Edward and Bella. This is about the Volturi exerting their power. There is no justice in the Volturi, not anymore.”

[kindlingumbra]

Welcome to The Trial, may the odds by in your favor.

This blog is run by the same person who does Scorched Paths so if you see any similarities in the writing, characters, or worldbuiling, that’s why. I’m allowed to copy myself.

Warning: this rewrite contains dark themes, proceed with caution.

This work is inspired by warriors, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Lion King as well as other creators such as @bonefall, @troutfur, and @cats-of-eden-valley.

~

I'm Jasper, I use he/they/xe/it. Hope you enjoy

~

Masterpost

[wonderloste]

' you'd die ... you'd die! ' - siladeu <33

&  RE  :    bold of you to think i remember these / @londonfallen.

nightmares are like a rot. they seep into your mind, twist themselves around vulnerable hearts before they've an inkling what is coming. worse still is it when those nightmares are not hallucinations. it isn't a dream, removed from the confines of pure fantasy : it is a memory through which his fingers phase through. he reaches out, grasps for them in desperation, but they do not feel it, and they do not know. even in nightmare, one can have control over the entities that haunt them. but for all the power that has weaved itself into his soul, even silas cannot rewrite history.

they feel it, just as if his primal, near drowning horror, guilt, were their own. it knots itself in their stomach, makes their chest ache, burn, the same that the flames licking at their thighs 'pon burning pyre had. he cries out for them, then, when they are tied to a stake and lit aflame. they scream and weep until their sobs are run ragged, until their throat is bleeding, howling in unbearable pain at the scorched scars left 'pon their legs, and he tries with falsely bloodied hands to rip at the ropes that held them spectacle to underland. burn the witch, the red queen chants — fuck you, the artisan demands her head. had things been different, perhaps he'd have saved them. but he can't.

they didn't know he'd seen their trial in doremi's library, when they had told him that they hated fire. you didn't tell me, he'd said. you never asked. he grows more restless after that night, but he is not yet in their realm when they fall asleep, and so they murmur sweet nothings to him until he falls asleep at last.

the second memory is somehow more brutal, they think, as they walk alongside him, only half present in the realm of nightmares. he can't see them, but they think he knows they are there this time. they remember this, too, so very vividly. the way the jabberwock had left them 'pon the steeple of the church, banished but alive. they had to push the church doors open from the ground, and only halfway in had they stumbled in before they collapsed from the pain. they couldn't walk anymore, their legs burnt and bloodied, skin peeling 'way against the black that ran down their thighs. they laid on their back, then, staring up at the gray, cold stone of the church roof. their hands outstretch, and at the drop of a hat, that hazy memory of them begins to bawl. it is the most heart-wrenching they have ever heard themselves sound, muttering prayers of fae'len between shaken breathes, begging the sun to rise. by the end of it, they are curled in a fetal position, trembling and sobbing until they have coughed up blood. they beg and plead and nearly give up on their sun. but their shaken hands fall, and they spot an empty corner of the chapel. cheeks stained black as ink, they use their claws to crawl over to it. an hour later, they contact mariposa and they ask her for paint.

they weep a prayer to solaris, and the them that exists within that nightmare watches as silas tries to touch them. but he cannot touch history, no matter how desperately he tries.

what comes next, they had both tried to forget. thorns wrap 'round the beast's throat, tears them asunder piece by piece. silas does not see himself this time, but instead the brutalization of alice liddell ... what remained of her. they bash his head in, screaming and crying and begging for it to just end. it is the only time, amadeu thinks, that the two of them had ever seen the bandersnatch want to die. valtr is dead long before they stop attacking him. their claws break, their bones shatter, with the sheer force of the rage they take out on him. but it isn't anger, not really. it's heartbreak. silas is silent, this time. they try to touch his shoulder. they think he knows.

the last is when he finally falls far enough for them to reach him. their shade lies dying, brutalized and on its death bed. at first, they think it is after their fight with alice, when they had fled to die on their own : but they find silas pleading over them, begging them to drink from his bleeding arm, demanding it. except they do not stir. there's no brutal show of them throwing him 'pon the chapel's floor, telling him that he is hurting them. this isn't the flower field they had intended to die in, either. it is a veritable field of chime flowers, covered in trees that block the sky, that don't quite belong here. this isn't wonderland at all, they think, and when they step towards silas shouting at the shade of a corpse, they sense they have broken their own fairy circle.

you'd die! he snaps, tone a mix of terror and distress both as it refuses to drink his blood, clearly already dead, as if he does not know how to process the horror of an almost. this one isn't a memory, they realize. it's a fear. of what could have been? they do not know. but wonderland or no, the nightmare realm is their world. as they approach him, entirely wrapped by the petals of the forest alone, they gather the chime flowers in their arms, and then they gather him, too. they wrap him into an embrace, pull him away form the haunting corpse that hazily flicks to and from unreality. they are chest to flower to chest, hand raising to push his head against their shoulder. "it's just a nightmare, a'maelamin," they murmur, and it occurs to them they had never once considered what nightmares plague him. they do not understand him, as a londoner : even as their souls weave together, even as his heartaches resonate in their chest, pieces of him still remain so foreign.

it further occurs to him that he is fully aware that none of this is real. that he can't change the past, that what happened could not be undone. he could never take the scars from their thighs, erase the gold poured between cracks of marble, nor free them of flinching whenever his touch burned their skin. he must know. he does know. child of man, born-again fae, ascending god, all the power in all the worlds, and he would never be able to regain the purity of the moment he had first broken their circle and fallen in love. they do not think his confidence nor his pride are bruised. but they do think, that despite everything, or perhaps in spite of it ... they two, objectively monstrous, are so very human in their shared, destined heart.

"solaris, let amae lead utae eska." cressida moves their palms along his cheeks to cup his jaw, tilting his head up to look at them. already, the unrest had begun to settle. the hallucination of a future never to be had faded, but still they sit in these unfamiliar, yet familiar, woods, where even the moon struggled to break through such thickened trees. it is an illusion, still in their realm, they believe : created from subconscious, of a place that had once been. and so kind to them is it, when they lean forward to press a kiss to his yearning lips. the stars light up underneath them, ripples 'pon the sea that rests dormant in their heavens. "you need not dwell 'pon history. allae pahi guide utae forward."

some bouts of nightmares, they know, are less stringent than others. this is not the first time they had walked alongside him during his descent, until he fell far enough into his restless madness for them to lull him back to the beginnings of it. but always, his dream wrapped in the guise of nightmares awaited him, until the moment their paths would cross in their rest again. perhaps next time, their realm would be kinder to him. regardless, they would always be.

"just stay looking at me, the whole way through. trust amae." they stand, and taking his hands, they pull him up with them. then time, when they pull him deeper into their territory, beyond their broken fairy circle, he does not let go of their hand. and this time, when he awakens, it is not to a meadow of chime flowers, but to the same hand that had guided him in slumber, come to comfort him in reality.

[moon-writings13]

Kiana's Masterlist

This will be divided by pairing, fandom, and what type (x reader or a pairing)

Maribat

Daminette:

For You I'd Deal with the Vultures

Preview, idea, photo, date dress, asking about the name

Chapter 1 [not yet available]

Maze Runner

Twin series (oc Marie centric, Marie x Gally, Marie and Thomas are twins):

My art, painting version (takes place in When the Darkness Comes)

When the Darkness Comes [Fever Code and Maze Runner rewrite] chapter 1 (not yet available)

Thomas's Mutiny [Scorch Trials and Death Cure rewrite] chapter 1 (not yet available)

Whatever you put me through I come out alive [miscellaneous pieces during Death cure] part 1 (not yet available)

Thomas and the Lullaby (side piece)

Thomas x Ocs:

Lise Subject B-13

Preview

Chapter 1 [not yet available]

Augusta/Lorah

(#stilesodylan24celebrates1k prompt:“You must be mistaken - I don’t know who you are.") [wip, not yet posted]

Ada/Lola

[not yet posted, undecided whether it will be a multichapter or one shot]

X Readers

Dylan O'Brien characters:

Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Hold On

Thomas (Maze Runner)

"I won't lose you too" prompt fic [wip, not yet finished]

DCU Characters:

Jason Todd

Hell was the Journey but it Brought me to You

[stiles-o-dylan24]

✧ Dylan O’Brien & Characters

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✧ WIPs

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1K - First Milestone, First Challenge *various authors*

Birthday & 1.4K Sleepover 

[justinewt]

Run Boy Run - TMR REWRITE Chapter Eight

[TMR REWRITE-MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Thomas, Grace and their friends had learned the hard way that not all of them were immune against the flare. This was a hard pill to swallow after they had been told they were and losing a friend after everything they already went through was really hard on them but they couldn’t stop. Not until they found the Right Arm, in the mountains. It was their goal but an unexpected storm pushed them further away from their original destination and they ended up in an abandoned building that wasn’t so abandoned actually. 

Words: 4.2k

Warnings: TMR Scorch Trials spoilers, tilte inspired from Woodkid’s song “Run boy Run”, some angst, lots of running, chasing, mention of blood and bruises

The group was still shaken by Winston’s death. They had walked across the desert in a heavy silence, dragging their feet in the sand, staring into space. There was something else on Grace’s mind, and probably on her brother’s as well. Teresa told them they should go back to WICKED, despite everything they did to all of them since they were children. None of the siblings could understand how she could say or even think something like this, as if WICKED was good after all; spoiler alert they knew it wasn’t true and it was unbelievable she would get over what they did so easily. Something really must have happened when they took her away. While they didn’t have much time to do anything to Grace beside from filling vials with her blood, they really messed with her to change her mind so quickly, but Teresa came with them anyway, not turning back. It would be unthinkable for Grace and Thomas to go back in any case. Grace tried to shake those thoughts off. Before night fell, they had found refuge in a bunch of large containers next to a collapsed ship in ruins in the desert. They were all sitting around the campfire while Aris put some more wood in it. The silence that hung over them was broken by Minho.

“I thought we were supposed to be immune.”

“Not all of us, I guess.” Teresa said, lying down against her bag, staring into the dancing flames of the fire.

“If Winston can get infected… we should assume so can the rest of us.” Grace glanced at Newt as he spoke. Maybe this was true, maybe none of them were actually immune to the flare. She frowned, thinking. It didn’t make sense that none of them were immune because if that was the case, they wouldn’t have bothered to take more of her blood after they already took some when they first got there. There was something that they wanted, at least in her blood, and if so, definitely in her brother’s as well. This was another reason not to go back. She didn’t want to be a rat lab.

“I never thought I’d say it…” Siggy had a tear rolling down his cheek. He paused, gathering his thoughts and words. “I miss the glade.”

The other kept quiet. At least in the glade, they had four walls around them and a whole system they built from scratch over the span of a few years. Grace had only been there for a couple months before her brother turned up, and then Teresa, and then things went south. She found herself wondering if any of the gladers that remained there were still alive today, if they made it out. Gally had been left dead in the old WICKED place that they were rescued from. Grace remembered this crazy look he had in his eyes when he threatened Thomas but Minho killed him, before they realized he had hit Chuck instead of Thomas. This was a sad day for all of them. They didn’t stick around long after they went to sleep and started walking again at sunrise. After a mostly sleepless night, they looked like zombies walking in line on top of the dunes, but they had to keep going if they wanted to find these Mountain men, or Right Arm, or whaterver they were called. Grace walked, letting her eyelids close heavily every now and them, swallowing harshly. The sun was hitting hard today, taking a toll on seven of them. They didn’t even have any water left. Minho tried drinking from his gourd, but nothing came out and he threw it away in frustration. They walked under the sun all day without ever stopping and they just slept directly on the ground, curled up. Grace woke up from a nightmare that ended with her screaming at the top of her lungs and upon opening her eyes and sitting up suddenly, she looked around quietly, to see if she had in fact screamed but no one moved and she sighed in relief, rubbing her eyes and yawning. After trying to get back to sleep but bein unsuccessful, she just stared at the sky and saw a thunder storm brewing in the thick clouds, far away from where they were. When she heard her brother’s jacket rubbing against the ground as he moved, she leaned on her elbow and looked in his direction, seeing in her peripheral vision lights in the distance. Their eyes met as he tried to wake the others. She realized what those lights could be the urgency in her brother’s voice and joined him in getting the other to wake up. They might be closer to the Right Arm then they thought when going to sleep.

“You see that?” Thomas enquired, breathing loudly, as if he was checking if what he was seeing was indeed real. And it was, all of them could see the lights in the distance. “It’s lights. We made it.”

That’s the moment the storm decided to make its entrance, turning their heads with a jump upon hearing the thunder. They stood there, watching the lighting strike a first time before picking up their bags in a hurry, urged by Thomas. They then started running as fast as they could with the thunder on their heels. They scampered towards the lights, fearing the lighting would hit them if they didn’t keep moving. Grace hadn’t thought much of the lighting she saw when she woke up and now regretted it. She had never seen lighting before. If she had realized it would turn into this, threatening their lives, she would have woken everyone up herself and told them about it. The last time she ran for her life, they had grivers coming for them, now it was thunder and they couldn’t fight it off with spears this time. They were getting closer to the abandoned building with the lights on when a lightning struck a car nearby and violently sent Minho flying to the ground. Grace was further away so she only lost her balance, falling down but she was all right. Newt instinctively helped her up and they looked at their friend. Thomas had fallen as well but he was already standing up and they rushed to help him get Minho to safety. The latter was lying still, passed out. Aris and Newt took care of him and Thomas grabbed Grace’s arm, dragging her along with them as she looked with wide eyes at the sparks coming out of the car. Siggy held them the door, urging them to get inside and he shut it right after Thomas and Grace stepped in.

“Put him down.” Thomas spoke. “Watch his head. Who’s got a light?” There was a click and the beam from Newt's flashlight illuminated Minho as they tried to wake him up, vigorously shaking him and calling his name. It took a moment for them to get a reaction from him and they all sighed in relief when he rolled his head to the side, taking a breath, coming back to his senses. “Here you are. Are you okay?”

“What happened?” Minho asked.

“I think you got struck by lightning.”

“Wow.” He breathed out. They then got him up carefully. Grace and Teresa looked around but it was so dark they couldn’t see a thing. The two frowned when they noticed the strange smell floating in the air and glanced at each other in disgust, having no idea what it was.

“What’s that smell?” Teresa wondered out loud. Grace slowly walked past her and suddenly stepped back with a shout after a crank jumped at her out of nowhere. He grabbed her forearm, growling at her and she gritted her teeth, yanking on it and losing her balance when she got him to let go, letting out a scream as she fell and crawled back with haste, scraping the sand on the ground with the sole of his shoe. Thomas helped her up, grabbing her by the shoulders when suddenly, another crank appeared from behind them and Grace squinted her eyes, realizing the cranks were chained, meaning they couldn't actually get to them. One after the other, more cranks revealed themselves. They were over a dozen, chained all over the place.

“I see you’ve met our guard dogs.” A female voice rose in the distance and a figure loomed in a doorway, light turning on behind her. Her face was his by the dark as she walked, avoiding the grip of the cranks with ease. It seemed like she was used to this and didn’t care about it all. The girl came up to them. Grace first thought upon seeing her was that she was pretty and seemed to be around the same age as her, with short dark hair and dark eyes which made the whites seem to glow brightly. She was, by a few inches, shorter than Grace. She looked at them with some sort of amusement in her round eyes. “You guys look like shit. Come on. Follow me.” She started walking away while they were still holding up their flashlight, practically glued to each other, on the alert. Raising her eyebrows, she looked at them. “Unless you want to stay here with them.”

Looking at each other and at the chained cranks around them from the corner of their eyes, they eventually decided to follow her. She led them through the abandoned building. No one said a word until they came in a huge room with lights hanging from the ceiling and at a least a few dozen people around. They slowed down their pace, looking around and the girl addressed them.

“Come on, keep up. Jorge wants to meet you.” They climbed a flight of stairs, Thomas walking right behind the girl.

“Who’s Jorge?”

“You’ll see.” She said, just glancing at him over her shoulder. They walked down a large hallway. Fires were lit in metal barrels here and there, people standing nearby, just staring at them with curiosity. “No one’s come out of the Scorch in a long time. You’ve just got him curious. And me, too.”

“Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?” Newt wondered in a low voice, almost whispering. Grace looked behind them, not really reassured either upon seeing a bunch of people following the group with smiles on their faces. After the trip to the WICKED facility, anywhere else was better but not knowing where you had ended up and what was going to happen wasn’t nice either. She tried looking straight ahead and kept walking.

“Let’s just hear him out. See what he has to say.” Thomas told them. After climbing another flight of stairs, they reached a sort of office and a man was sitting at a table, his back turned to the teenagers. The girl addressed him, and he rose his finger, saking for silence. He was focused on a radio station installed in front of him, carefully turning the buttons left and right, mumbling under his breath. Outside, the thunder was still going strong. The people that followed them there went to stand in the background, and Grace could tell she wasn’t the only one feeling trapped. Jorge eventually turned around, hands on his hips and he stared at the 7 teenagers.

“Do you ever get the feeling the whole world’s against you?” He enquired bluntly. The teenagers looked at each other in confusion and the man pursued. “Three questions. Where did you come from?” He proceeded to pour himself a drink. He seemed to be quite a character. “Where are you going? How can I profit?” As they kept quiet, a little unsettled, he added; “Don’t all answer at once.”

“We’re headed for the mountains. Looking for the Right Arm.” Thomas eventually said quietly. The people around them exchanged looks and the girl who met them among the cranks even frowned.

“You’re looking for ghosts, you mean.” He took a sip of his liquor. “Question number two. Where did you come from?”

“That’s our business.” Minho declared after a glance from Thomas. Jorge didn’t like that answer. He shrugged, pouting and two of his men grabbed Thomas and Minho, forcing them onto their knees and others held their friends back. Grace struggled a bit, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight them off. The girl took something on a table and scanned the back of his neck. The men then let the two teenage boys stand back up and the girl looked at Jorge, as if she had found out something incredible.

“You were right.” He put his glasses on his nose and she handed him the device.

“Right about what? What is she talking about?” Thomas asked, confused. Jorge chuckled, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry, hermano. Looks like you’re tagged. You came from WICKED.” He accused. “Which means… you’re very valuable.”

“Good plan, Thomas. “Just hear what the man has ot say.” Really working out for us.” Minho taunted bitterly, arms dangling beside his head as he and the rest of them had been hanged upside down above the void. The turn of events had been truly unexpected. Like Newt, Grace had felt there was something off about this place but never in her wildest dream did she think this Jorge would hang them by their feet.

“Shut up, Minho. Maybe I can reach the rope.” He tried to throw his torso upwards but let his body just fall back down with a grunt when Jorge’s voice rose.

“Enjoying the view?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“That is the question.” He walked up to the edge, and stood right in front of Thomas, some sort of stick in his hand. “My men want to sell you back to WICKED. Life has taught them to think small. I’m not like that. Something tells me that you’re not either.”

“Is the blood rushing to my head or is this shank not making any sense?” Minho wondered. Jorge barely glanced at him, pointing at Thomas with his cane.

“Tell me what you know about the Right Arm.”

“I thought you said they were ghosts.” Newt commented, frowning.

“I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves. You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal.” He put his hand on the lever of the pulley around which the rope had been wound. Thomas shook his head.

“We don’t know much.” And this was the truth, but Jorge didn’t buy it and pushed the lever forward a notch. They let out loud gasps as the rope made them fall a little lower.

“Okay! Okay, all right. They’re hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WICKED. They got out a bunch of kids.” Thomas exclaimed. “That’s it. That’s all we know.” Jorge took a step forward, parting his lips as he was about to speak when someone came up to him, glancing at the teenagers hanging down.

“Yo, Jorge. What’s going on?”

“Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted. We’re done now.” He stared down at Thomas.

“Hey, wait. You’re not gonna help us?”

“Don’t worry, hermano. We’ll get you back to where you belong. Hang tight.” On these words he just walked away, and they were left there, even more in the dark regarding Jorge’s intentions with them. Grace feared he would really sell them back to WICKED, setting them back in their trip to the mountains as they would have to escape from their grip again, if they even managed to do so, or if he would consider making a deal with them and setting them free. She hoped he would choose the second option. If they went back, there was almost no chance that they would make it out again, but they would try hard anyway. After a while, they started dangling around and swinging in the void, pushing each other to try and get one of them to reach the lever. They pushed Teresa and she held out her hand, but it was too far away. Minho grunted in frustration. They kept on trying and she eventually got a hold of the railguard in front of the pulley. They cheered briefly, urging her to hurry up before someone came in on them trying to set themselves free. She pulled the lever down, making her friends fall lower. She sat on the edge and untied her feet. She then helped Thomas and once on his feet he helped Teresa get the others free as well. They could already hear an engine rumble loudly outside the building and knew it was WICKED as soon as they recognized Janson’s voice, but they couldn’t be caught. They had to get away, with or without Jorge’s help.

“Okay, let’s go. Let’s go.” Thomas looked at his friends as they were heading for the door when a man stood in their way, holding them at gunpoint. He stepped towards them, slowly. “We’re not trying to cause any trouble, okay? We just got to get out of here.”

“Is that so?” He smirked, showing a vacant space were a teeth should have been and he held up a walkie-talkie to his ear. “Janson, I got ‘em for ya. I’m bringing ‘em down. Don’t shoot us.” He then addressed the teenagers again, but they weren’t moving at his command. “Come on. Let’s go. I said let’s go.”

Thomas suddenly grabbed his gun, aiming the cannon at the ceiling and a shot went off. He struggled against the man, headbutting him which caused the latter to lose his balance and recoil with a grunt, his head bent forward after the impact but after staggering a bit, he came back to them, and again threatened them with his weapon but now, he was pissed off. The seven of them jumped when they heard a shot rang out in the room and Thomas probably thought, for a second, that he was the one who had been shot but then the man lowered his arm and his body crashed to the floor, revealing the girl that welcomed them here right behind him. They looked at the man’s corpse in shock but eventually followed her out of the room when she spoke, urging them to come along. Thomas grabbed his sister’s arm and he started running, joined in by the others. As they stepped out, Grace kind of glanced over her shoulder, trying to keep up with Thomas and she briefly saw Teresa just standing there, looking at something on the floor. She frowned in confusion as it stirred a lot of questions in his head but she soon taken out of her thoughts. They climbed a flight of stairs in a haste, joining Jorge in his office as a music started to play through the louspeakers around the place.He called the girl by her name; Brenda.

“We don’t have much time! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” He led them to a double door with glass so dirty they couldn't see through it until Jorge pushed it open and revealed a zipline.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Siggy declared.

“Plan B, hermano. You kids wanna get to the Right Arm? I’ll lead you to them. But you’re gonna owe me.” He then hung onto a cord tightly and jumped out, going down the zipline.

“All right! Let’s go!” Brenda pulled a cord and Thomas his friends to go. Minho and Aris were the first to follow Jorge’s lead. Grace felt her brother's grip loosen as he pushed her to grab a cord, right after Newt and she closed her eyes for a second as she felt the ground give way under her feet and the wind blowing furiously through her hair. Pon the other end of the zipline, Newt was there to catch her and she let go of the cord. Teresa joined them and once she reached them, they looked back for Thomas and Brenda, but no one was there. Grace stared anxiously at the empty zipline but eventually, Jorge refused to wait much longer and he led them away. Newt grabbed her shoulder to make her her follow them and they heard the building fall apart behind them.

They walked all night, almost without ever stopping and made their way to the Underneath, a series of underground tunnels that led through the whole city where they would find a man named Marcus, according to Jorge. So, for now, it was their destination. Grace was quiet the entire time, worried sick for her brother. She hated being separated from him and hoped that he and Brenda would make it and meet up with them at this Marcus’ place. They eventually stopped to take some rest and eat something but after a moment of peace, cranks were heard in the distance so they quickly packed up and left, not langering around any longer. They then started to walk through the city above ground. The group looked around at the people in the street, dressed in dirty clothing and looking tired and worn out. Some of them were wrapped in scarves and coats, grilling food over fires they started inside metal barrels. Avoiding staring at them, Grace just looked down as they walked. They reached a club where they found the man named Marcus. Not long after they got there, they found Thomas and Brenda, drugged up in the club. Thomas was lying on the ground as Grace and Teresa rushed towards him. He was then brought in another room upstairs. The two girls waiting for him to wake up. After a moment, he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling before Teresa’s voice caught his attention and he looked at her, coming back to himself.

“Hey, you’re okay. Hi.” She gave him a sweet smile. Grace was right next to her and was relieved to see her brother safe and sound. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Welcome back, you ugly shank.” Minho leaned over their shoulders. Thomas then tried to sit up, helped by Teresa, squinting his eyes at the sunlight which dazzled him a bit as he had just woken up and he saw Brenda sitting on a couch while Jorge threatened Marcus into talking. He punched him in the face and Thomas stood up and went next to Newt, staring at the two men in the middle of the room. Grace watched, standing beside Minho.

“You’re going to have to leave my house.” Marcus said with difficulty.

“Listen. I don’t enjoy hurting you. Okay?” Jorge assured, shaking his head. “Where is the Right Arm, Marcus?”

“Wait, this is Marcus?” Thomas enquired, confused.

“The kid catches on quick. Are you the brains of the operation?” He spoke with mockery and too much arrogance for someone who was tied up and whose face was bloody and bruised. Jorge shut him up by grabbing him firmly by the hair, pulling his head against the back of the chair.

“I know you know where they’re hiding. So you tell me, and I’ll make you a deal.” He let go of his head, shrugging. “You can come with us.”

“I burned that bridge a long time ago. Besides, I make my own deal. You’re the one who taught me, never miss an opportunity.” He smiled and laughed.

“What’s he talking about?” Newt asked, frowning.

“I’m talking about supply and demand. WICKED wants all the Immunes they can get. I help provide that for them. So I lure the kdis in… they get drunk, they have a good time. And then, later, WICKED comes in… they separate the wheat from the chaff.” He looked pleased with himself and his little story.

“I changed my mind, hermano. I do enjoy hurting you.” Jorge violently kicked him, sending him to the floor in a grunt and pulled out a gun. He crouched down over him, holding the gun to his head, yelling at him to talk. Marcus quickly gave in to the threats.

“Okay! Jesus! But I’m not making any promises. These guys like to move around.” Minho helped Jorge lift him back up and he caught his breath before pursuing. “They have an outpost in the mountains. But it’s a long way. You got half of WICKED on your ass. You’re never gonna make it.”

“Not on foot.” Grace could hear the smirk on Jorge’s face. The latter then leaned towards him. “Where’s Bertha?”

“Not Bertha.” He whined, his lips shaking but Jorge didn’t care about his feelings. As he stated just a second ago, he did enjoy hurting him. Bertha was actually just a car, Marcus’ car and they set out for the mountains on board it. Now that they knew where they could find the Right Arm, they only had to make it there before WICKED could track them down because if Marcus was questioned by them, he would most likely snitch on them, especially after the mistreatment he suffered at Jorge’s hands. Mistreatment he deserved but he looked like the kind of guy who would make themselves the victim of any story.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Published (12/26/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

[diazevan]

33,000 words, tears, laughter, three months and a lot of drafts later my “death cure rewrite” (end of scorch trials in included) is finally done and has been sent off to my beautiful beta-reader. Get ready to have your hearts broken, people! This is the fic where Thomas is not immune, and Newt is the cure. So Newtmas fans get ready for a role reversal.

thanks to @narniaismymaze for letting me emotional wreck them with sneak peeks whilst writing this. 

Sneak peek:

[royalfirefly]

As a writer who hopes to one day write a book that many people enjoy and are inspired by, seeing my favorite books be turned to movies and then seeing Hollywood absolutely mangle the original story to beyond recognition is heartbreaking.

Like WHY does Hollywood continue to completely ignore all the reasons that made the source material popular? I understand that movies cannot be exact replicas of the books. Certain things just don't work when adapted in a visual format and some scenes will need to be cut for time. I get that, and that's ok.

But when Hollywood does shit like they did to the Lightning Thief and the Scorch Trials where they completely change the plot? I just don't get it. Who thought. Hey let's just keep the character names and write our own story! We'll rewrite the book like a drunk monkey was the author instead!

Why would you do that! Like I get Hollywood only cares about money but by going so off the rails of the source material has PROVEN that they LOSE money!

The Percy Jackson movies had the potential of becoming the next Harry Potter franchise! But because the studio ignored all of Rick Riordan's advise they created trash instead.

Basically, if you're going to take a popular book and make it into a movie, you're going to lose money unless you understand what makes the book so beloved and don't change the plot of characters too much.

And also I don't think I'd ever want to sell the rights to any of my books (if I get any published that is) unless I have full control over the script and casting of the movie

[reddragdiva]

professor burning pain skeleton, by kronecker delta

I feel the need to rewrite some of this chapter with the appropriate character substituting as teacher of Defense of the Dark Arts.

Professor Burning Pain Skeleton.

Let's see how that works. - @kronecker-delta​

"Unbelievable," said Dumbledore in a voice that sounded much weaker than his accustomed boom. "A corporeal Patronus, in his first year. And an astounding number of successes among the other young students. Burning Pain Skeleton, I must acknowledge that you have proved your point."

Professor Burning Pain Skeleton inclined his head, the eternal crown of hell flames licking upwards in their cavernous hunger to consume the tapestries of the great hall. "PATHETIC CONCLUSION FLESH TINDER. DEMENTOR'S FEED ON  WEAKLINGS FEAR, YOUR FOOLISH MAGGOT FEED SPAWN ARE LESS AFRAID."

"Less afraid?" said Auror Goryanof from where he was sitting, backing away as the inferno threatened to break loose and consume them all.

"So I said as well," said Dumbledore. "And Professor Burning Pain Skeleton pointed out that adults had more courage, not less to fear; which thought, I confess, had never occurred to me before."

"I ALREADY SAID THAT BEARDED FOOL, LISTEN OR MUST I HELL SCREAM UNTIL YOUR BRAIN BOILS," Professor Burning Pain Skeleton said dryly, like the savanna before a twisted storm of fire streaks across it. Promising the end of days as it does, "BUT IT SUFFICES. DO YOU WISH TO TEST MY SOUL SCORCHED WORDS, DUMBLE-DEAD?"

"As you say," Dumbledore said reluctantly. "I admit I was not expecting to lose that wager over all those poor puppies, Burning Pain Skeleton, but you have proven your wisdom... and the everlasting light of your hellish incandescence."

All the students were looking at them, puzzled; except Hermione, who was staring in the direction of the cage and the tall decaying robes; and Harry, who was watching everyone, since he was imagining himself feeling paranoid. Save for Professor Burning Pain Skeleton, since it hurt to look at him for too long.

Professor Burning Pain Skeleton said, in tones that did not invite further comments... for obvious reasons, "I WILL TEACH THESE INNOCENTS TO KILL! TO REND!! TO RIP OUT YOUR STILL SCREAMING SOULS AND PLUNGE THEM INTO MY MAW!!! ALL WILL LEARN THE BLESSED SILENCE BRINGER, ALL MY STUDENTS SHALL BE BLOODED AND BEAUTIFUL IN THEIR CORRUPTION! WHICH WILL RENDER THEM SAFE SURROUNDED BY THE CORPSES OF THEIR ENEMIES... AND OTHER PESTS, THOUGH THEY SHOULD ALSO LEARN TO UNLEASH A PURIFYING FLAME TO CLEANSE THIS WORLD OF YOUR WEAK FLESH." Professor Burning Pain Skeleton paused, his eyes narrowing, or as much as two blood red suns captured from the skies of Lost Carcosa at the night the Unspeakable One did plunge that city into oblivion uncharted. "DEAD-TO-DUMBLERIGHTS, I WISH TO RETIRE FROM THESE WEAKLINGS. LET THE ILL-BREED MIDGET STRIVE TO HOLD OFF THE SHADOW CAST BY MY LIGHT UPON YOUR DYING WORLD!!!"

Dumbledore shook his head, sweat falling from his brow for standing so close for so long next to the twisted hell sorcerer. "We are almost done for the day, Burning Pain Skeleton. I will last."

"The Dementor! " said Hermione. Her voice rose to a shriek. "Professor Burning Pain Skeleton wants it to eat you! "

In the sudden hush, Professor Burning Pain Skeleton came forward a few steps, each one scorching a black foot print into the stone as if the Satan himself had stood there; but he didn't approach any closer (Harry was there, after all, and it would not do any good to incinerate his disciple). "MEWLING GIRL CHILD," he said, and his voice was a grave echoing hellscape as he held out the melted bubbling goo in asbestos gloves and aluminum foil singed upon the edges, "EAT THIS GIFT OF THE BLACK GOAT. IT WILL STRENGTHEN YOUR WORTHLESS BLOOD FOR THE TRIALS TO COME!"

"Professor Flitwick, don't let Harry try, send him back! "

The Headmaster had arrived by then, and he and Professor Flitwick were exchanging worried looks.

"I did not hear the Dementor speak," the Headmaster said. "Still..."

"DO NO MIND THE FIRE SHADOW. IT IS IGNORANT OF THE TRUTH," said Professor Burning Pain Skeleton, sounding a positively furious, annoyed that his dark servant might have made the imbeciles around him finally aware of his true nature.

(The Headmaster had said nothing to the other students, told no one else to be less brave; but Professor Burning Pain Skeleton had calmly observed that if you made the mistake after being warned, that was when ignorance became stupidity.)

"Professor Burning Pain Skeleton?" Harry said in a low voice, having come as close to the Defense Professor as he dared. "What do you see when you -"

"IT IS NOT FOR YOUR PATHETIC MEAT MIND TO CONCEIVE MY TRUE NATURE!!" The voice was very flat. Like an infinite waste of reflected obsidian under a grey sky.

Harry nodded fearfully. "What was your original phrasing to the Headmaster, if I can ask?"

Drier still then the burning of a thousand dying worlds, "THE WOUNDS OF YOUTH GROW SEPTIC AND ROTTEN, ONLY FLAME CAN HEAL! ONLY FIRE CAN FREE YOU OF YOUR WEAKNESS!!!"

"Ah," Harry said. "Logical."

Something strange and more terrible than normal flickered in Professor Burning Pain Skeleton's eyes, a world of countless souls plunging into them and screaming at once as they were snuffed out, then, as he looked at Harry. "PRAY TO YOUR FLESHLING GODS," Professor Burning Pain Skeleton fire screamed, "THAT YOU SUCCEED IN YOUR PROMISE TO ME DISCIPLE! FOR IF YOU DO THE AGED CORPSE TINDER WILL TEACH YOU THE SECRETS OF MESSAGING BY MORTAL SOUL FIRE! IT WILL AID YOUR CHILD ARMY TO DESTROY IT'S OPPOSITION, AND LATER YOUR TRUE LEGIONS TO DO THE SAME TO THIS ENTIRE TOO MOIST ISLAND, TILL ALL IS SMOKE AND FIRE. BUT IF YOU FAIL ME DISCIPLE!!!!."

Professor Burning Pain Skeleton's voice was cratering thing, digging into reality and tearing it apart, leaving a gaping twisted scorching wound in the air around him. The tables smoked and children cried, the demontor shuddered and fled to the far side of its cage. Every tapestry exploded into a shower of sparks and putrid smoke. Hogwarts was burning

Hogwarts was burning, and all Harry could see were those two blood red orbs balefully glaring down at him.

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[ao3feed-hamilton]

by melfangirls

The flare doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it turns us into cranks. Sanity obliterates...

Hamilton songs rewritten as The Maze Runner! Such as The World Was Wide Enough becomes the death of Newt or Helpless is made into Newtmas.

Characters belong to James Dashner!

Words: 603, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner (Movies), Hamilton - Miranda

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Additional Tags: Hamilton References, The Maze Runner - Freeform, Newt - Freeform, Thomas - Freeform, newtmas - Freeform, maze runner - Freeform, The Scorch Trials - Freeform, The Death Cure, death cure, scorch trials, James Dashner, Hamilton Lyrics, lin-manual miranda, Song - Freeform, songwriter - Freeform, rewriting songs, Song Parody, minho - Freeform, Gally - Freeform, chuck - Freeform, hamilton rewrite, Gay ships, maze runner fandom

from AO3 works tagged 'Hamilton - Miranda' https://ift.tt/2qDbMaH

[devalient]

Tricked (The Maze Runner) - Chapter 37 - Newt's Limp (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/2q6ngwBgKE REWRITING, PLEASE EXCUSE ME AS I ALTER SOME PLOT FOR NOW My name is Primrose and I was the first girl who arrived in the glade. I've hid but Newt found me by the Deadheads. But my lie was exposed when I was forced to spend a night in the maze. I've survived the Maze Trials as well as the Scorch Trials, but I'm still looking for my brother. WICKED is bad and I wished everyone could see that. (P.S. I'm still writing the maze trials so...)