TMR Imagines and Preferences - Newt, Thomas, Minho, and Gally

You Have A Nightmare

Thomas: Frantically, you sprinted corridor after corridor through the maze, looking desperately for your boyfriend who hadn't come back after being trapped in the maze for the night. After searching and searching for hours on end, you came to a corridor with blood splattered on the gray stone. Dashing across the floor, your eyes focus on a body in the far corner, blood dripping down the stone walls. A scream of horror escapes your lips as your eyes focus and you see that the body is Thomas's. The coppery smell of your boyfriend's blood fills the corridor...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You let out a bloodcurdling scream. Thomas practically jumped into the bed next to you, where you were shaking and sobbing, your face soaked with sweat and tears. His arms encircled you, holding your head so you meet his eyes.

"What the hell is happening, Y/N?" He whispered. Other gladers were coming in, their eyes half-closed, yet they were clearly concerned. He shooed them out and only continued talking when the door closed behind them.

You pressed your head against his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible after the awful vision. You were still quivering slightly, and Thomas pulled you as close to him as possible.

"It was just a dream, Y/N." He cooed, looking down at your pale and tear-streaked face. You looked up at him.

"It was just..."

"Stop thinking about it. I'm okay." He chuckled, brushing your hair out of your face. You wrapped your arms around him, refusing to allow him to leave your side, as you drifted into another deep sleep.

Newt: You were laying down in the snow, a tall figure towering above you. He leaned in closer, and the features resembled those of your boyfriend, Newt. However, his skin was pale, and his eyes were sunken with large shadows beneath them. Scars were etched onto his skin, and his eyes were mad.

He's a crank, you thought.

"Hello there, love." He said, the way he addressed you seeming more like a mockery than a term of endearment.

He pulled a black object out from his pocket. Aiming the barrel at your head with a hateful glare, he snarled, "You're a bloody disgrace." His finger slowly pulled down on the trigger....
~~~~~~~~

"Please, Newt.... please...." you muttered, tossing and turning in the bed as the vision continued to plague your mind. "NEWT!!!" You screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks.

The door to your room swung open and a figure was laying on top of you, your face cupped in warm hands. He tried to contain you as you shook, thrashed, and sobbed.

"Calm down, love! What-" he started, but he couldn't get you to focus on him.

"Crank... please, no..." you whimpered, turning on your side and curling into a ball.

"Love, your only dreaming... there are no 'cranks' whatever the hell that means, you're safe... I've got you..." he muttered. Your breathing steadied as you heard his soft, relaxing voice in your ears and realized that it was only a nightmare.

"That was terrible..." you choke, snuggling up to him. Softly, his pressed his lips against your forehead and rubbed his hands down your back.

"It's alright, love. You're safe." He whispered, wiping your tears away. "Just go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He said, settling into the bed at your side. You climbed on top of him, your head resting on his chest and your arms wrapped around him. The gentle rising and falling of his chest made you drift into unconsciousness.

Minho: You were sitting in front of a large monitor that displayed a mostly empty. In the farthest corner, a boy was strapped to a chair. He was beaten and bloody, yet his black hair remained perfectly styled. He was shouting for someone to give him answers.