Preference - Tickle Fight

Murphy - As soon as your fingers brushed near Murphy’s middle, he swatted your hand away, indignantly insisting that you were being annoying and needed to stop or else he’d “brake all your fingers one by one.” But you caught the way his lips quirked up at the corners before he so expertly hid his smiles behind a mask of irritation, and that was enough incentive for you to keep going. It was then that you saw his facade break. He wrestled your wrists into his grip with a broad grin breaking out across his lips, and mercilessly tickled you until you were gasping for breath and begging him to stop between bursts of laughter.

Jasper - Jasper was perhaps the most tickleish person you had ever met, up on the Ark or on Earth. He could tell whenever you got that mischievous glint in your eyes that he was going to be in for quite the fight. Jasper backed up slowly with his hands out, warning you to stop before you’d even started. But one quick dive and you had your hands around his middle, reducing him to a ball of laughter on the ground. As much as he complained about it after, you knew he secretly loved it.

Octavia - You didn’t always mean to tickle Octavia, she was just so sensitive around her sides. You could be doing anything from casually throwing an arm around her by the campfire or making out in your tent and a roaming hand would sent her squirming away with laughter on her lips. Once it started, it was hard to stop. It was the cutest laugh you’d ever heard, after all. 

"Can we talk?"

Your mouth went dry as soon as the words passed over your lips. Your fingers toyed at the charm hung around your neck. He had given it to you just a few short months ago.

Bellamy always insisted he wasn't the romantic type, but you disagreed. He used to go to any lengths just to make you smile. Had you taken that for granted? 

"Now's not really a good time," he said, his voice drawing you back to the presant. He hardly looked at you.  

"It's never a good time." You didn't mean to snap, but your voice came out sharp. You had his attention now. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before continuing. "You've been really distant lately."

He didn't say anything, just let his eyes drop. He was tense, his back a rigid line. You took a step closer and laid a hand on his arm.

He slipped out of your touch and turned away, gripping the back of his neck. You could feel his absence like a gaping hole in your chest.

"Do you still love me?" The words slipped out before you could stop them, small and scared like a child's. The question had been burning on your tongue for weeks, but fear of the answer kept it locked behind your grated teeth.

The silence, stretching out second by second, told you everything you needed to know. Silently, the tears slipped onto your cheeks, stinging at your eyes as the dropped.

"I'm not worth your tears," Bellamy said. He took a step towards you, his hand extended, but he froze halfway through. His arm dropped, useless by his side.  

When you closed your eyes you could imagine him finishing the motion, brushing away your tears with the pad of his thumb and pressing his lips to your forehead. His familiar touch never burned against your skin. You were ice to the core.

"Can't you see that I'm bad for you?" His voice was desperate now, yelling, tears he dare not let fall caught in his voice.

But you couldn't. Bellamy was your everything, and now you had nothing.

You had hardly noticed the ever constant machine hum that rumbled through every station of the Ark before you were sent down to the ground, but you certainly noticed it's absence. Without its mechanic breath, the only sign of life in Arkadia was the people themselves. Their voices echoed off the metal halls, heard even inside your residential unit.  

It was the same room you lived in when the Ark floated through space, but instead of sharing it with your siblings and mother, you shared it with Raven. It seemed she was the closest thing to family you had left.

Your arms curled around her, holding her body close to yours and trailing your fingertips in small patterns along her arm. She breathed a steady rhythm in and out, drowning out the passing of time until you were both sure you had to be late for something.

Your watch laid forgotten on the far side of the bed and she slipped out of your embrace for just a moment to reach for it. She settled back into your arms.

"My work shift starts soon. I should get ready," she said, and then craned her neck around to face you. Her lips brushed yours. "But I really don't want to."

"Then don’t," you said, drawing her in for another kiss. Your heart fluttered in your chest.  All these months you'd been dating, all the intimate moments and stolen kisses, and you still got butterflies whenever she was around. “Just stay with me a little longer.”

Octavia's flirtiest smile tugged at the corner of her lips, shining those big blue eyes up at Jasper. She took his hand in hers, spared a glance to make sure Bellamy wasn't around to stop her, and started to pull him into the forest.

An uneasy laugh slipped out of Jasper, who lightly tried to pull himself from Octavia's grip. Her smile faltered, sensing his reluctance.

"Come on, Jasper."

"I've got a lot of work I still need to finish up," he said, glancing around the surrounding delinquents. He hoped a certain someone wasn't watching them.

"You deserve a break. Let's have some fun."

"Look, O, you're really beautiful, but..." Jasper's eyes drifted again as he trailed off.  

"There's someone else," she finished for him, the disappointment weighing down her voice. Octavia dropped his hand. "It's Monty, isn't it?"

"Heda," you said, bowing your head to your sister. Lexa sat rigid on her throne. With a wave of her hand, Titus and her guards were dismissed from the room. Your stomach took a sudden drop. You were well aware why she called you here.

"These trips to consort with Skikru must end. The rumors are already beyond my control."

"Skikru is not a threat to us, Heda,” You said. You struggled to keep your voice level and respectful. All these years and Lexa was still trying to control you. “They want to make peace. We should want the same."

"And the boy who massacred a village of innocent people? Our people. Is this the kind of peace that Skikru wants?"

Your tongue shriveled in your mouth. Your voice was small and quiet when it emerged. "And he will answer for his crime, but sister, not all of Skikru are the same."

"End this act, (Y/N). You have never been a diplomat. Your interest in Skikru is not in making peace." She paused, rising from her chair and fiddling with something laid out on the table. Her back was turned to you, and her voice lowered. "Your infatuation could cost us the lives of our people. It could cost us your life."

"I'm in love."

"Love is weakness," she spat, spinning to face you, ferocity in her tone. She carried all the weight of her lost love in her voice.

"Then I am weak,” you decided, chin jutted out. “But I will not stay within the walls of this camp and hide behind a tradition of war for the sake of an image. I will fight for peace, sister, and if that makes me your enemy then so be it."

A daze had passed over your people as you took the long trek from the mountain back to Arkadia. You left the bodies behind but the genocide weighed heavy on all of your shoulders. Silence cloaked you and your friends, with nothing but numb touches passed between you and your boyfriend, Bellamy.

The two of you had been together back when your home still drifted through space. Now you marched toward the grounded station, unable to comprehend the gravity of the day. How could such a thing as normal exist after this?

Blood was still caked in Bellamy's hair when the two of you finally drifted back to your shared room. The rusty red smeared across your cheek. Exhaustion weighed on you, but you couldn't bare to go to sleep still smelling like death.  

You tugged him toward the shower, your hand fitting loosely in his. He helped you pull off your shirt, tracing his fingers across your skin as he did. The articles of clothing dropped to the ground at a much slower pace than you were used to, but you weren't here to make love. You were here to take care of each other.

The hot water slid around the curves of your bodies and you moved the wash cloth across his bruised and bloodied skin, rinsing away the guilt and the heartache. His fingers moved through your hair, drifted across your midriff. He cleansed you of your grief, if only for a moment.  

Bellamy tucked you into his chest in an embrace only two lovers could share, and you both let your tears blend into the stream pouring over you from the shower head.

Part: (1) (2) (3)

Murphy was hardly conscious on the rushed trip back to arkadia and even less so once you carried him into the medical bay. It scared you how light he felt. The protrusions of his rib cage stuck out against your fingertips when you brushed the skin under his shirt.

Abby had accepted you as a permanent visitor. You anchored yourself in the chair at his bedside and slept with your head in his lap.  She had warned you he would be asleep quite a while with the dosage of whatever the hell she was feeding into his IV, but whether he knew you were there waiting or not didn't matter to you. All you needed was the feel of his calloused hand in yours.

His eyes fluttered open, a minuscule movement, but given his frail state it seemed like a miracle. You squeeze his hand tightly, then left it fall from yours as you ran to get a cup of water.

He was still weak and needed help with every small task. He was thirsty, you could tell, but his eyes skipped over the water and were stuck on your face. It was pain that warped his features now, not a blank expression, and it wasn't from his injuries. 

"I'm sorry," he said, his hand searching for yours. You met it and arced your thumb in soft strokes across his skin.

"It's okay," you said, smoothing back the hair that had fell into his eyes. “You're okay now, and that's all that matters."

"I love you," he said, fighting for the strength to sit up. You pushed him back with a gentle hand.

"You should rest," you said, your voice hardly surpassing a whisper. His sudden confession knocked the breath from your lungs. He was simply delirious. Whatever had happened to him these months he’s been away was warping his mind.

He didn’t love you. He said so himself before he left.

He fought your hold, so many words burning up inside him all at once. They came out in a muddled rush, strained by the desperation in his voice. 

"I need you to know that I love you. I’ve spent these last weeks believing I would die before I ever got to tell you the truth. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

"May we meet again."

Those words haunted Bellamy. They slithered between the trees of the forest the two of you used to walk through every morning on your daily hunting trip. They bounced off the hard metal tables of the mess hall where you would share every meal, attacking him through the clang of cups and scrap of silverware. They woke him from his sweat soaked nightmares, those awful words pounding through his heartbeat and seeping into his veins.

Everywhere he looked, he saw you. All except in the metal tin he carried with him as he treked out to the dropship with the remainder of the 100.  

Surely these were someone else's ashes.  

They shared kind words about you. They cursed your stupid bravery, the sacrafise that had stolen you from them in the first place. They cried.

Bellamy said nothing. He watched your dust scatter in the wind, knowing you were not in these ashes.

You were the loud, ceaseless life of the forest. You were the stars in the night sky. You were the smell after it rained. You were the first love of his life.

The others trickled out of the clearing, tears still staining their cheeks. Bellamy stayed behind, watching the sunlight dance through the canopy of leaves above. You always loved this forest.

Raven waited for him, watching his searching eyes pass through each bittersweet memory he coveted of you. You might have been the one that died, but Bellamy was the only ghost left in Arkadia.

"Are you going to be alright?" Raven asked. She knew the answer before he spoke it.

"No."

Hiatus is Over

(x)

I took a break from imagines because I’ve been working on my novel, but I’ve been getting inspired from watching season three and I wanted to this up again. I still have about 50 requests in my inbox from before, but if you all want to send in some more, I don’t think it will hurt.

Also, I’ve been seeing a lot of negative stuff on my dash regarding the show and JRoth lately and I’ve had to unfollow quite a few people because of it. I’m not saying that the 100 should be exempt from criticism, but all these bad vibes are making it hard for me to enjoy the show. I’m trying to find some more positive content to fill up my dash again, so if you post mainly the 100 and want me to check out your blog, go ahead and reblog this.

You hadn’t known him longer than the length of that day, hadn’t even bothered to learn his name, but here you were with his blood splattered across the left side of your cheek and his severed foot landing inches from your face.

The explosion pushed you with an invisible force, shoving you into Murphy, who fell beside you clutching his head just as you were. The blast sent a sharp crack through your skull, leaving a ringing to echo in your ear drums. The world spun but you could see nothing but the cloud of sand and the bloodied boy beside you.

The sand was sucked into your lungs, choking back the screams stuck in your throat, unable to focus on anything but the little bits of human flesh that continued to rain back down.

“We’re in a mine field. Stay where you are.” The voice sounded far away, spoken with breathy astonishment. But you couldn’t possibly stay still surrounded by this storm of sand and hot blood and burning flesh.

Your limbs scrambled beneath you, struggling to pull yourself up to run back. Your destination was unclear, but you knew with absolute certainty that you had to go.

You never made it. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, and then over your own, binding them to your chest. A voice was in your ear, blended into the high pitched ringing, and it called your name as your breath came in short gasps and your feet kicked blindly at his shins.

There was another boom and the explosion kicked the sand into the air, a fluid entity in itself. The only part of your world still solid was Murphy and the arms that tucked you in tightly to his chest.

“Do you already have a partner?” You glanced up at the sound of Jaspers voiced, shocked to see him holding a makeshift spear. Strands of his hair were flattened against his forehead, trapped by the pair of goggles strapped to his head. His lips were pulled into a bent line. He was nervous, hopeful at best.

“You're joining the hunting party?” You were too surprised to answer his question at first.

“Yeah, that's the plan at least,” he smiled, an anxious laugh escaping him. His head ducked down and he grabbed the back of his neck, still waiting for an answer.

“Alright, just let me grab my pack and we can get going.”

This seemed to please him but the smile dropped as soon as Murphy’s mouth opened.

“Come on, you’re ditching us for goggle boy?” He said, his eyes briefly glancing over Jasper before returning to you. Bellamy was still waiting not too far off for you to join his group before setting of.

“I'll catch up with you guys tonight at dinner,” you promised. Your voice took on a lighter, more teasing tone. “Besides, with the way you tromp through the forest we won't be able to kill anything, and I'd like to actually eat tonight.”

Murphy shook his head but left you alone otherwise. You turned back to Jasper, an uneasy smile on your lips. “You’ve done this before, right.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, but his voice sounded forced. “I mean, I always scored well in Earth Skills class up on the ark.”

A laughed eased out of you and you punched at his shoulder, moving towards the treeline. “Just follow my lead, goggle boy. I'll be damned if I let Murphy’s group bring home more meat than us.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, Nathan’s hand tight in yours. Tears were stinging at your eyes but you forced them back.

“I want to,” he said, pressing his lips into a small smile. “I’d give up anything to be with you.”

His hand cupped your cheek, brushing away the tear that slid down it with the pad of his thumb. Your heart ached for the love he had for you, but your mind raced with anxiety. So many things could go wrong in a procedure like this, not to mention the pain.

“Are you all set?” the doctor asked. She was a few years older than you, blonde and clean-cut. You’d never spoke to her before but everyone knew everyone around here.

“Just one more minute,” you said, barely glancing at her. You lowered your voice, squeezing Nathan’s hand tighter still. “It’s too risky. Nothing is worth losing you.”

“When I said I’d give you the world, I meant it. You’re going to love the ground, just wait until you can breathe real air.”

His touch fell from your cheek and he was whisked away into the operating room. A nurse came by to prep you for your own procedure, but her words were nothing but a mumble of background noise as you stared at the doors Miller had disappeared behind.

Part: (1) (2) (3)

There was a certain serenity about the noise that bounced from between the trees and waking up to the open sky above you. You rolled over lazily, spotting the four others in your group. Normally you wouldn’t be sleeping out in the open like this, but this was a time of peace, and besides, you had taken turns taking watch throughout the night.

Harper sat against the tree not too far off from your smoldering fire. Her gun sat across her lap, her fingers playing with the frayed edges of her shirt when a crunch came from the forest. All you could see was a shape, unrecognizable but definitely human. Her gun snapped up to attention and you scrambled for yours.

“Who’s out there?” Harper called, her voice not betraying the fear that surely ran through you both.

A figure stumbled through, dried blood smeared across his cheeks and matted in his hair. He was covered in dirt, clothes practically shredded, and beaten into oblivion. He managed a few more steps with his arms weakly raised then sagged to his knees once he was in full view.

Murphy.

“Put that thing away!” you yelled to Harper. She immediately lowered her weapon, weary confusion in her eyes. You ran over to him, your canteen bouncing on your thigh, and sunk to your knees beside him.

His weight sagged into you, exhaustion pulling him down more than the gravity. You had one arm around him to hold him as upright as you could manage and unscrewed your canteen with the other hand. You rested its lip against his and watched as he drained the whole thing with a kind of haze in his eyes.

He didn’t see you, not really see you, until the water was gone. You cradled his head, searching his eyes for some sort of recognition as he stared up at you in turn.

“You look like an angel,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

A hot tear rolled off your cheek as you answered, a broken laugh, “I did fall from the sky once.”

There were so many unspoken words, so many questions you had for him, but in this moment you couldn’t bring yourself the say the three words that burned at your lips so desperately. They instead came from his.

“I missed you.”

(x)

“This one next.”

Those simple words were the ones that sealed your fate. Your metal restraints were unlocked, but the grip of the burly doctor was infinitely tighter. No, not Doctor, an agent of torture. You thrashed against him and the assistant, screams ripping from your lungs, but it was no use. Within seconds you were strapped onto the table, the leather straps digging into your skin.

The room was a mix of putrid smells: blood, sweat, and searing electricity, all mixed in with the shouting that bounced off the rough interior walls of the mountain. This was to be your death bed and these faces, cold and cruel with  greed worked into the lines of their mouths, were to be the last ones you saw.

Your senses were overwhelmed with the pain. The drill boring into your hip blinding you with red hot vision, it's crude vibrations the only sound that carried through you and the smell of your own blood the only one left.

Death could not come soon enough, but it wasn't your death that came. At the same time a sharp crack bounced off the cave walls, the drill bit fell from your skin, and the body holding it slumped to the ground with a hard thud.

A dulled pain washed over you and your head lolled to the side, the edges of your vision black but otherwise restored. Bellamy stood in the entryway, his fingers firmly wrapped around his gun. Three more sharp cracks and the gun clattered to the ground. His shaking hands cupped your cheeks, the pad of his thumb rolling over your lips.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, but you had faded into unconsciousness by the time he voiced the last syllable.

(x)

The fire burned low by the time the morning sun peeked between the trees. You were exhausted, your eyes burning to close. The night shift was always the hardest, but it wasn’t as bad with Murphy. The two of you had passed the hours in ceaseless conversation. At first it was only a lot of his snarky jokes and a lot of rolled eyes in return from you, but as the moon made its path across the sky you found yourself telling him things you didn’t share with anyone.

The forest was far from quiet, the trees seeping with sounds of birds and bugs, but a period of silence passed between you and your watch partner. You had propped up against each other sometime during the night and your shoulders were still brushing now. His eyes no longer swept the tress but rested on you.

“What?”

“You know how people do dumb things when they’re tired?” Murphy asked. You nodded, confusion still clouding your face. “I’m going to do something really dumb.”

You were too tired to read between lines or play guessing games, but you didn’t have to wait very long for an explanation. His fingers curled around your chin, guiding your lips to his. Your hands were clumsy with exhaustion but they found their way to the collar of his jacket, pulling him in closer to you.

It set the two of you off balance and he had to throw an arm around you and plant the other in the ground to keep you from toppling over. He smiled into the kiss and you couldn’t help but laugh and relish in the feel of his body against yours.

“You should be dumb more often.”

“You think so?” he asked, the callused mask long broken off his face to reveal the boyish smile underneath. His forehead pressed to yours and you answered by drawing him into another kiss.

The journey through the impossibly stifling desert was made that much more unbearable with the dull ache of jealousy that worked its way into your chest. Their voices were too far off to make out their conversation, but the way Murphy looked at Emori made his feelings so painfully obvious.

While you had only managed to stumble through brief conversations with John, Emori was able to get him to open up in a matter of minutes. Before you were hopeful that perhaps he had simply gone through too much tragedy to be able to even consider feeling love for someone just yet, but every moment they spent together squandered that dim light you held onto.

It wasn’t John, it was you.

You wished you could say it didn’t surprise you when she grabbed Murphy around the collar and held a knife to his throat, but you were just as shocked as the rest of them. He rough voice cut through the dry air first in trigedasleng to her partner and then barked out orders in English.

“Put your weapons in the cart and step away.”

You all had no choice but to comply, despite Jaha’s pleads for peace. You were too worried about the sharp metal pressing into Murphy’s jugular to mourn the loss of your canteen or gun. You watched her hands anxiously.

His expression was one of revulsion, but it slipped into a blank look when she knocked him into unconsciousness. A short gasp escaped your lips, hands drawn up to your face, but Jaha held you back from running to John’s aid, at least until the thieves were fading over the ridge of the dune.

You cradled his head in your lap for a long while, trying your best to wake him without any water to spare. He was still breathing, and that was all that mattered at the moment. The others’ arguments about how the group should proceed faded into muffled background noises.

When his eyes finally fluttered open he looked at you in a way he never had before, almost as if you had been strangers up until this moment. You knew it was probably because he was simply confused -- he had been knocked out cold after all -- but the butterflies in your gut toyed with you anyway. That hope, the light, had been rekindled in just one glance.