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

They Protect You

Thank you, all! God, I never expected that a crappy fanfic by a 14 year old (I was 12-13 when i started this book, i think?) Could gather such an awesome group of supporters. You guys rock!!!

Without further ado, lets see if my writing skills are still rusty.

Thomas: This was it.

You were departing from this horrid, torturous place. You would surely miss it, but you were itching for the sensation of true freedom. The group was sprinting through the corridors of the stone maze, weapons in hand and aching to be freed.

You had rage stirring in your blood, but the group stopped as the close sound of clicks and whirrs came from closeby.

"Is it a griever?" Chuck asked Thomas.

"Yeah," he gulped, the back of his head banging against the stone. "Its okay, though. We'll beat it. We just gotta stay together and we'll get through this."

Thomas was in the middle of his speech when something tugged at the back of your shirt. You spun around quickly and your heart stopped as you found yourself looking into a griever's slimy face. The blood drained from your face as it snarled, and the goo dripping from its body fell closer to you.

You let out a loud squeal as its cold metallic claws wrapped around your midsection, lifting you into the air. You continued screaming as it raised its tail, raising it menacingly over your head. A dagger portruded from the center, and you couldn't force yourself to tear your eyes away from it.

"Y/N!" Thomas bellowed from below, running forward. Your eyes were clenched tightly. You trembled with insurmountable fear. You heard the sickening squelch of a dagger slicing through the griever's flesh, and the mechanical whirring of the machine failing.

Soon, the mechanical fingers unclenched and you were falling to the concrete floor of the glade. Muscular arms caught you and pulled you against his chest.

"Stay close to me," Thomas demanded, setting you down. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "We're not done here just yet."

He handed you a large spear and you smirked.

The battle was on.

Newt: You lumbered across the Crank Castle with a scowl on your face. Changing into a crank was a rocky experience, but you managed to get along just fine. You had a reputation as the most powerful crank around- and you were the first to climb the hierarchy so quickly.

When you attempted to sit, something was tossed at you. You cried out as it hit the back of your head with a crack.

It wasn't your skull, thank God. Something thick started seeping down your back. With a grunt, you wiped the egg away, standing up with a twisted glare.

"Who?!" you snarled, turning to look at each man in the room. There was a group of them, feet away, chuckling madly. You stomped over and looked them in the eyes. "Is there a problem, boys?"

The largest one chuckled, and your stomach lurched. He had a long, deep scar down his eye- which was colorless and gray. His teeth were rotten, his skin was pale and veiny, and he towered over you. You gulped- involuntarily, might I add. "Yeah..."

His goons started to circle you, but you held your head high. "Lets keep this fair, sir," you advised, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Nah," he growled. Then, his goons gripped you by arms and dragged you to the nearest bar table and pinned you down. You kicked and protested to no prevail.

"L-Let go!" You cried. You refused to back down, but you were losing steam. And fast.

Then, someone placed his hand on the crank's shoulder. He had a thick British accent when he spoke. "Gentlemen, maybe you oughtta back outta here," he advised.

The other cranks snickered and laughed at him, holding you down with one hand. "And if we don't?"

He had green eyes and fair hair, but he had a flame in his eyes. You smiled, recognizing your beloved.

He swung his hand, and you flinched as a crowbar connected with the head goon's temple. "Perhaps I was a bit unclear," he stated. He turned him around and pressed the crowbar away from his chest. "Stay away from this girl, she is my property."

As the other goons nodded and scampered away, Newt came over and kissed you on the cheek. "Sorry for the wait, love."

You smiled and walked off with him.

You were the king and queen of the Cranks, and God help anyone who disrespected the Queen.

Minho: Despite the sand blowing in your face, the ache in your muscles, and the sweat dripping down your face, you trudged forward.

It felt like ages since you departed for the Scorch. In reality, it had only been a few hours. Things had just slowly gotten worse.

Lightning cracked from the skies, burning the sand right next to you.

See what I mean?

Thomas spun around and studied the skies. There was lightning nearly every second, and each time, we could see the spot where it hit the earth.

It was harder and harder to tread forward with each step. Running was absolutely impossible.

Suddenly, someone knocked you to your feet. You landed in the sand with a grunt, cursing to yourself as your face was buried in the sand.

The gladers were screaming and running closer. Confused, you slowly sat up and saw Minho, laying lifeless in the sand. There was a massive burned hole in his shirt. You gasped and covered your face, with worry eating away at your gut. That lightning would've hit you... your boyfriend saved your life.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the group lifted Minho to his feet. You wanted to help in any way possible. They eventually reached a massive building and laid Minho down.

You knelt at his side, your tears dripping onto his burnt chest. The group watched with sorrow as you cried for him, hoping that it was you who was hit.

Gally: It was lunch hour, when all the gladers crammed outside the kitchen waiting to be served. Frypan was cooking as fast as he could, and asked you to distribute the food to everyone.

You were hurrying through the crowded benches and handing everyone their meals. As you turned back to the kitchen to grab another set of plates, something slammed into the back of your head. It was mushy and clumpy. Mashed potatoes.

You turned to see a group of boys giggling. One of them was glaring up at you with a smirk. "This tastes like klunk," he declared. He was obviously the one who threw it. You glared back at him and snarled, "then don't shucking eat it."

He stood up and walked closer. "Maybe you didn't hear me right."

He grabbed the collar of your shirt and rubbed the potatoes into your hair. You squealed and turned bright red as the glade turned to you. Some were sympathetic, others were laughing hysterically. All eyes were on you and the other glader.

Someone slapped their hand down on the glader's shoulder, spun him around, and faced him. "Who the shuck do you think you're talking to like that?!" Gally growled. The glader turned red and spluttered out, "we were just jokin around..."

Gally sucker punched him across the face. With a groan, the boy fell to his knees. His friends ran over to see that he was unconscious. Gally just stood up straighter and glared at the crowd. His face was bright red and twisted with ragez

"Y/N is not to be messed with. Understood?! You touch her, you talk bad about her, you even shucking look at her in a way that pisses me off-" he grabbed a handful of the potatoes off the nearest plate and held it up "-you'll end up looking like this klunk! You hear that?!"

The area was silent as Gally stepped closer to you and kissed you softly. Your heartbeat quickened as he put his hands on your hips, rested his forehead against yours, and closed his eyes. "That's not gonna happen again, Y/N. Let's go get you cleaned up," he whispered. He wrapped his arm around you and led you away from the eating area. You turned back and snarled at the boy and his friends. When you were with Gally, you were untouchable.

Gally's and Newt's are fairly similar, I know... but there's something incredibly sexy about chivalry. Updates will come soon, just be patient!! Love you guys!!