SUMMARY: Post TDC, Thomas is mourning the loss of Newt. With Minho’s advice and support, he will be writing back to Newt through his makeshift journal. The seven stages of grief take quite a toll on Thomas. Will he learn to live with his mistakes and forgive himself for the loss of Newt- of his friends? Will he accept that Newt is gone, or will he give up?
(Up close looks below)
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Two 1/2 Months Without Newt
༺☆༻ Click to see up close ༺☆༻
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A/N : So much to unpack oh my…. Y’all got that though— He is not doing so hot, but I’m very glad he has his friends around him. He needed that hug from Minho just as much as Minho did :(
This drawing took me a longggg time, I really hope the message that im portraying with it is obvious 😭 ON THAT NOTE- THANK YOU to everyone who is supporting me and sticking by Thomas’s side on this journey!! Comments are greatly appreciated, I LOVE discussing your thoughts and opinions so much, it’s the highlight of my day <333333
Special thanks to @loverboycove and @tlockish for helping me out MWUAH
@newthelcain everyday your talent astonishes me. I love and adore every call and text that we have together in general but also have unpacking Thomas’s story together.
Knowing grief so closely and deeply while also seeing how you portray it in Thomas’s story is so deeply and fundamentally important to me.
It is always a pleasure helping you work on this project.
SUMMARY: Post TDC, Thomas is mourning the loss of Newt. With Minho’s advice and support, he will be writing back to Newt through his makeshift journal. The seven stages of grief take quite a toll on Thomas. Will he learn to live with his mistakes and forgive himself for the loss of Newt- of his friends? Will he accept that Newt is gone, or will he give up?
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One 1/2 Months Without Newt
A/N: (I meant it when I said this is slowww)
Thomas is my favorite unreliable narrator, his trauma blocking is severely effecting his memory. He’s very clearly still in denial and is directing his internal anger onto Minho 💔💔 Ugh I love him I promise.
(Also that tree took FOREVER to draw omfg) On a real note, thank you for reading!! Thank you to everyone supporting this series, and a special thank you to @loverboycove for helping me finalize this Entry <33
It is ALWAYS a massive pleasure to work with your beautiful mind. And your tree is perfect. I love love love you 😛😛 EVERYONE READ THIS ONE AND THE FIRST ONEEEEEEEE
SUMMARY: Post TDC, Thomas is mourning the loss of Newt. With Minho’s advice and support, he will be writing back to Newt through his makeshift journal. The seven stages of grief take quite a toll on Thomas. Will he learn to live with his mistakes and forgive himself for the loss of Newt- of his friends? Will he accept that Newt is gone, or will he give up?
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A/N:
I have been planning this series for a little while now, with the help of my best friend @loverboycove <33. I wanted to make it look as realistic as possible, I drew all of Thomas’s ‘sketches’ myself!! This will be quite a slow burn, starting with sketches and little notes to avoid acknowledging Newt’s death. He will soon be writing full pages ;) I’m so excited to finally start sharing this with everyone!
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE THIS SO I CAN CONTINUE THIS SERIES WITH YOUR SUPPORT <33333333
I am so excited and HONORED to be helping my best friend with this project. Valen you are so incredibly smart and talented. Anyone and everyone that comes across my little page I beg of you to check their page, read their stuff and show every ounce of love possible. AHHHHH
𖤓 Ivy Growing Downwards : the coolest “plants taking over the world” au i have ever seen in my LIFE ( newtmas flower shop slow burn kinda) peak peak peak love this fic
65,562 words 4/4 chapters
𖤓 Misplaced Mistakes (You’re The Best Kind) : i genuinely love this fic so much and i laughed at the humor in this too (au). slow burn and related to both of them too much in this
53,438 words 10/10 chapters
𖤓 No Better Version Of Me Than When I’m With You : i’m a sucker for this fic, friends to fake lovers to real lovers UGHHHH love this so bad and it’s realistic and ugh peak slow burn (explicit)
60,230 words 16/16 chapters
𖤓 Ten : newtmas in the mental hospital au but with insane lore and a slowwww burn.
this was the first ever newtmas fic i read and i was sucked into the story, i read this all day everyday and on my work breaks. (General Audience)
196,760 words 59/59 chapters
𖤓 Fixation : i love me some freaks what can i say, friends with benefits to lovers (explicit)
31,560 words 5/5 chap
𖤓 A Reason To Bleed : writer Newt and soccer player Thomas friends to lovers 10000/10
Words: 48,710 Chapters: 5/5
𖤓 With Everything I Am : strangers to fake lovers to friends to REAL lovers
Words: 58,220 Chapters: 5/5
𖤓 Kismet : late 20’s au Thomas is a single father and Newt is a kindergarten teacher (and also in a band). they are so cute in this fic PLEASE READ IT- slow burnnn
Words: 92,912 Chapters: 20/20
𖤓 Kenopsia : sci-fi au. i can’t give you any details because it will spoil the whole thing BUT PLEASE READ ITS AMAZING
Words: 27,959 Chapters: 1/1
𖤓 Carousel : phenomenal childhood friends to sneaky links to lovers AU. every character is lovable and written so so well.
Words: 82,642 Chapters: 5/5
𖤓 West Side : famous actor Newt and old friend Thomas. Newt needs a damn hug.
Words: 97,511 Chapters: 22/22
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Crank Newtmas Fics ~
⋆.˚ Wanna Eat Your Heart Out (I Don’t Wanna Be Alone) : ‼️{this fic haunts my narrative and means so much to me } gorey and painful Crank Newt with conflicting love/hate for Thomas (mature). cannibalism as a metaphor for love.
read at your own risk
17,829 words 8/8 chapters
⋆.˚ Long Story Short : crank newt, my beloved, is fucking crazy in this (mature)
“Newt persists, and walks the precarious line between wanting to kill and to kiss Thomas.”
41,896 words 5/5 chapters
⋆.˚ You Heartbeat In Mine : Thomas let’s crank Newt bite him
Words: 3,746 Chapters: 2/2
⋆.˚ Living With A Wild Hunger : Post crank Newt who is still trying to get used to being in his own body again, and how he felt/feels for Thomas
Words: 7,653 Chapters: 1/1
⋆.˚ Desire, Like A Monster : The Flare is a parasite and its own character, while Newt is the host, and both are obsessed with Thomas
Words: 2,891 Chapters: 1/1
⋆.˚ Caudal Autonomy : Newt discovering he has the flare. more of a ‘flare’ study, but i love this authors writing so much.
Words: 805 Chapters: 1/1
⋆.˚ Love Bites : Crank Newt as a VAMPIRE oh boy oh boy yall need to read this immediately
Words: 4,410 Chapters: 1/1
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Canon compliant/divergence Fics ~
𖤓 Blood On My Shirt, Heart In My Hand (Still Beating) : after Minho gets taken, Newtmas set out for maps but end up making out
Words:7,366Chapters:1/1
𖤓 Crushed Flowers : Post TDC with kinda established Newtmas
Words:6,082Chapters:1/1
𖤓 Find A Name To Call It : i personally decided this is something to be read after watching and rewatching Death Cure, truly the comfort needed (Teen and Up)
7,401 words 1/1 chapters
𖤓 Something Else : gotta be top 3 freaky fics, sub/dom stuff and other fun tags 😝
(Explicit)
8,170 words 1/1 chapter
𖤓 I Don’t Wanna Slow Dance : TDC fix-it with slight crank Newt. Newt lives.
Words: 2,156 Chapters: 1/1
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This is still a WIP, i will be updating this forever because there’s so many fics that I have yet to discover !! If you do end up reading these, let the author’s know how much you love them and support their work!!! AND let me know so we can discuss these amazingggg fics !!
Warnings: Psychosis Thomas, Self harm, Past Suicide Attempt Mention, Newt Death, Unreliable Narrater Thomas
Summary: Thomas struggling with newts death. Battling with psychosis and trauma blocking.
First POV: Thomas
They say when you loose someone, time will heal you. That as time passes you will feel better. That they won’t consume every waking moment, that they will slowly stop permeating your dreams.
I lost someone once.
Even as time seems to go by I’m still stuck. Stuck in that very moment with his black eyes and veins staring at me with an angry glare. It’s funny. Who was that boy again? I remember the darkness, i remember the black blood. But his face is blurry. What an odd thing to mourn someone without a face anymore.
I remember his touch though. Rough but loving. The kind of touch that leaves its mark. But even that mark is fading slowly but surely. Black eyes. Black veins. But the memory of my lover fades.
He had a sister. After the incident I’m not allowed to see her. I didn’t know the gun was in my hand as the barrel kissed my forehead. I didn’t realize my finger was locked on the trigger until Minho got it before I could clench. It was an odd feeling. I’m almost positive that situation happened before. But I wasn’t the one holding the gun.
My heart screams. My soul weeps. My stomach curdles knowing he was in my arms once. Knowing I failed to save him. I know it was my fault. Minho and fry is so adamant that it isn’t. It’s okay though. I know they are sparing my feelings.
I screamed and buckled over seeing a lizard the other day in the gardens. I was immediately toted off to the med hut. No one will tell me why I did that. Just sedated me.
Minho keeps this necklace hidden from me. I know it’s mine. I know it was his. I know there is something about it that Minho said almost killed me when it first came into my possession. Whatever that means. He said it was his fault for even giving it to me in the first place.
I hate him. I hate Minho so much. I know the boy was my lover I know he was I can feel it. I don’t understand why Minho won’t just fucking tell me about him.
I have large scars down my arms. Minho said it was something about me peeling my skin back. I know he’s a fucking liar so I can’t really trust him. I can’t trust anybody here. They all look at me like I’m some feral animal. I’m not allowed to hold guns anymore or knifes. It’s all stupid I’m not some suicidal idiot.
Is it so wrong to want to see my lover again?
The walls tell me too. The walls tell me how to do it. I know what I have to do. Minho be damned. In the end it is him and I. That blonde boy with the black eyes and veins. That bled black and begged for death.
He did beg right?
I didn’t kill my lover right?
Right?
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A/N: thank you for reading, I write a lot and my best friend in the whole wide world @newthelcain Tells me all the time that I need to start posting them on here. I don’t post my stories really anywhere ever and they really grind on my gears to post. Soooooooo HAZZAHHHH 💋🥰
I’d like to think that Thominho found a really beautiful tree, in the safe haven, and carved newts name into it. And they sit next to this tree and talk to it as if it were newt, as if he were actually buried underneath and not burnt corpse in a fallen city.
Warnings: GORE!!, canon divergence, unreliable narrator Newt, crank newt, internalized homophobia, religious symbolism, hurt! no comfort, major character death!!, cannibalistic metaphors, the flare virus as a allegory for love, the flare as its own character, dead dove: do not eat, read at your own risk
Summary: Newt is dying and this technically takes place at the end of TDC, but it’s far more exaggerated and a different version of the Flare virus and how it takes over your mind and body. The flare is also its own character kinda.
AN: I was listening to Ethel Cain the whole time this was being written. On that note, I am no writer and this is more for my own personal ‘pleasure’, so don’t hate me if this is lowkey ass
(1st Person POV Newt)
You understand, deep down, that I will burn forever. But to the extent of you? No. You’ve ignored my truth.
My truth will flare through my tarnished heart, before the eternal flame takes its place. Now I understand, you are my personal hell. My love will burn you, infect you. You will feel the agonizing pain that is my sinful adoration. I could be your personal hell.
We walk through the flames together; hand in hand, souls almost combined and molted into one. Charred, flesh-eating love and death.
Yet you let go. Scared of me…? Why are you so frightened?
Do you want to run to the pearly white gates? Are you craving the welcomed embrace from the sinless woman that you are destined to love, to be loved by? You stare at me as I sway in place, content with burning alive.
I tear my heart out of its chained ribcage, breaking all the padlocked bones holding it back. I feel the beating in the palm of my hands, naked and real. I acknowledge my sin, I feel it in my fingertips, the sharp edges cutting my palm. I smile. Smile at the peaceful pain that I swore would never be shown.
I bring my bloody, ash covered, beating heart to my lips. I place a gentle kiss on the cracked and decayed opening. The crack tears further- a light pushes past the dead arteries. A familiar light.
You, my Tommy.
Your carefully sculpted face, your name, your eyes- your pure soul shines through. I hold out my truth towards you. Pride overcomes my decaying skin and colorless black eyes, I present my truest self to you.
Is my sin forgiven?
“Please, Tommy-“
Is my love pardoned?
“-Please….”
Blood drips from my lips, my smile never brighter. My fleshless hands are no longer trembling, the jagged bones grip my heart like a secret. Please, Tommy, kiss my heart. Kiss the decomposing organ that holds you so dear.
Eat it. Eat it with patience, intention, fondness, gentleness. Savor my sin, your sin. Don’t run from the taste of you, taste yourself on me. Taste your warm smile and calming hazel eyes. Taste your pure, prevailing essence. Can you feel it? Feel it’s pathetic need to be eaten by you?
You stare at me. Heavy, uneven breaths as your glistening eyes dance from my raw hands to my crimson grin. You watch my bravery, I’ve always been brave for you.
Your eyes graze over my infected soul. You can finally see me for what I am.
I am love. Love that shouldn’t be, but is.
Love that is dripping blood- maybe you understand why cranks have killed to bathe in such love, it is desirable and almost edible.
Do you crave real love? Do you desire me? Am I worthy of your consumption?
Your gaze travels from the consuming red, towards the wilted black veins that are stretching out to grab my vital organ. The organ that you’ve always been curious about; the organ that is you. My heart is only you. Being held by the corpse of a man you’ve risked your life for. Am I the most beautiful corpse you’ve ever seen?
You see the most horrific form of truth, the deadliest form of poison, and almost give into the temptation. Almost….
Yet you don’t eat my heart, don’t taste yourself, don’t taste me. My sin is not your sin. You don’t feel the love? No. You won’t……
You reject real love because it scares you more than death itself. You cannot fathom someone loving you for who you are. To love you is to suffer you. For I am love and death; your victim.
“Newt?”
Tommy will never accept our truth….
The light shuts off. The familiar darkness consumes me. The light in my heart dims to its uncomfortable shade of red. This red is no longer beautiful- no blood is desirable. It is blood, not the fountain of truth it once was. My flesh and corpse are the most anguishingly disgusting thing he has ever seen. I am disgusting. My love is repellant, diseased.
I am diseased and his acceptance was the cure. My cure.
Why would he ever love me? Why would he run towards pain, towards sin? Why would he ever choose me?
Of course he wouldn’t choose me. I wouldn’t choose myself. Look at my skeleton, bare and revolting. Look at my pooled blood, beneath my limping feet. I’m horrific.
I can feel the flame consume me, certain- positive that he couldn’t save me from fate, from destiny. Not this time.
I feel my heart being pulled back towards it’s cage, by the veins of humiliation. The force breaks me. I will never let my heart be seen, ever again. He was never meant to see it. My punishment is well deserved, I deserve eternal suffering, existential pain. This parasite can eat every last bit of me. The parasite of love.
Start with my eyes, take away my cloudy visions of him. I can’t see anything. The pitch black void consumes my sight.
Don’t be scared, Newt…. it will all be over soon.
It moves to my nose, I don’t want to smell his sweetness anymore. I… I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe him in..
The parasite eats away at my tainted, branded epidermis. He rarely touched that scarred layer of me, never intentionally, yet I can still feel his strong hands holding onto me as if I was the most delicate and tender being he’d ever met. Shred my skin. Rid me of him. I don’t want to feel his hovering fingertips. I can’t…..
He looks at my now visible bloodstream, tendons, veins, bones- what does he see?
Life. Death. Truth. Me. Himself….
“Tommy…”
He managed to get under my skin, one last time. Or maybe he’d been there all along.
Drain him from me, every last drop. Bleeding out my lost childhood, my lost family, my lost lover- the glue that held me together. It looks at my haunted brain, our shared memories and just-out-of-grasp past ones, pushing through the barriers of grief.
Please, please erase Thomas from my memories. I can’t remember the betrayal, I refuse.
Remember. Don’t remember. Remember my Tommy- No. No, no, no…
The parasite makes its way to my half beating heart, slowing its pulse. Grabbing and scratching between the crevasses that have been carefully molded from love and loss. My essence is stripped, my heart pulses its last secret….
I didn’t want to survive. My survival was never a part of his plan, I have no reason left to live. I give up, again. It’s easier to die for him than live for him.
Finally blissful death consumes what once was….. once was….. me?
Him.
“Newt!”
Goodbye, my Tommy.
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Hey guysssss did yall like it?? Do yall hate me??
JKK but thank you guys for reading this, and if you enjoyed/vomited then let me know xx love y’all mwuahhhh
