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AnasAbdin
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸


shark vs the universe
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Acquired Stardust

izzy's playlists!
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YOU ARE THE REASON
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art
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Love Begins
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For ambiguously in the 2025 Trick or Treat fanworks exchange.
Gorgeous!!

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She’s finally done! My biggest piece so far! And my poor wrist will probably never recover 😅
But honestly? I’m so proud of this one. I feel like I’m finally starting to figure out what my “style” even is…or at least, I’m getting closer.
This was such a journey! Learning how to stop over-smoothing everything, trusting the mess, and letting things feel textured and alive. Cait deserves no less! She’s strength and precision and elegance all rolled into one, and trying to capture that has been both torture and joy 😂
Huge thanks to everyone who’s been so kind about the first two parts of this series. You keep me going 🫶
Absolutely gorgeous!!
[All IDs from alt. The three images show Marisha Ray and Brennan Lee Mulligan at a table playing D&D with others.
ID 1: "Marisha Ray: rock bottom is a good place to be"
ID 2: "Marisha Ray: can only go up, right?"
ID 3: "Brennan Lee Mulligan: theoretically you could also move laterally to a different area of rock bottom"
End ID]
Table to Screen: Episode 81 - What Lies beneath the Surface
❤️🔥
Jedi Night
So beautiful and tragic.

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telemachus’s gorgeous parents, odysseus and penelope
the queen’s gaze is as sharp and cunning as her husband’s, perhaps that is why he overlooked the beautiful helen for her. her bright eyes only seem to soften for him
I want to know your opinion on people who think Odysseus' and Calypso's relationship was consensual, especially when they go by the lines of "the nymph no longer pleased him." in the Odyssey.
The idea that Odysseus and Calypso’s relationship was consensual is one of the most frustrating misinterpretations of The Odyssey, and it usually stems from either a complete lack of engagement with the text or an unwillingness to acknowledge that sexual coercion existed in antiquity (which is absurd).
I love when people bring up “for long ago the nymph had ceased to please” like it somehow overrides the entire rest of the passage spelling out that Odysseus was, in fact, being held captive and repeatedly assaulted. I have zero patience for the “it was consensual” crowd.
First off, if the argument hinges on “ceased to please,” let’s look at what that actually means in context. That phrase isn’t implying Odysseus once enjoyed being with Calypso and just got bored of her, it’s a statement of his ongoing, relentless misery. His time with her has long since stopped bringing him any form of comfort (if it ever did, which is dubious to begin with), and he is wasting away from grief. He is literally sitting on the shore, day after day, weeping, groaning, tearing his heart apart in longing for home. That’s not a man reminiscing about his once-enjoyable island fling; that’s a man drowning in despair because he is trapped in a situation he cannot escape.
And now, let’s get to the part that really kills any argument for “consent”:
The strong god glittering left her as he spoke, and now her ladyship, having given heed to Zeus’s mandate, went to find Odysseus in his stone seat to seaward—tear on tear brimming his eyes. The sweet days of his life time were running out in anguish over his exile, for long ago the nymph had ceased to please. Though he fought shy of her and her desire, he lay with her each night, for she compelled him. But when day came he sat on the rocky shore and broke his own heart groaning, with eyes wet scanning the bare horizon of the sea. (Robert Fitzgerald)
For. She. Compelled. Him. Let’s say that again: FOR. SHE. COMPELLED. HIM.
How much clearer could it be? The text explicitly states that Odysseus avoided Calypso’s advances, that he did not desire her, that he actively resisted, but she forced him. That is coercion. That is not an equal relationship. That is a man who had no say in whether he had to share a bed with her. If we take this passage seriously (and we should), then what happened to Odysseus on Ogygia was not some steamy romance, it was imprisonment and violation.
Here are more of these passages:
The queenly nymph sought out the great Odysseus— the commands of Zeus still ringing in her ears— and found him there on the headland, sitting, still, weeping, his eyes never dry, his sweet life flowing away with the tears he wept for his foiled journey home, since the nymph no longer pleased. In the nights, true, he’d sleep with her in the arching cave—he had no choice— unwilling lover alongside lover all too willing… (Robert Fagles)
And since the reverend nymph these awful things Receiv'd from Jove, she to Ulysses went; Whom ashore she found, drown'd in discontent, His eyes never kept dry he did so mourn, And waste his dear age for his wish'd return; Which still without the cave he us'd to do, Because he could not please the goddess so. At night yet, forc'd, together took their rest The willing goddess and th' unwilling guest; But he all day in rocks, and on the shore, The vex'd sea view'd, and did his fate deplore. (George Chapman)
Because he could not please the goddess so.
BECAUSE HE COULD NOT PLEASE THE GODDESS SO.
This line makes it brutally clear that Odysseus was never in control of this relationship. He could not please her in the way she wanted. He was not satisfying her in the way she expected. And why? Because his heart was never in it.
He was there, physically, but emotionally? Absent. Disconnected. Miserable. People love to talk about how Odysseus was a “great liar,” how he could charm his way out of anything, but he could not fake his way through this. He could not even pretend to be happy. He could not please her because his entire being was devoted to escaping her. That’s not a lover. That’s a hostage.
Tell me, in what world is someone being forced to sleep with someone else not an indication of a complete lack of consent? The contrast here is explicit: Calypso wants him, Odysseus does not. Calypso has the power, Odysseus does not. This isn’t a mutual situation; it’s an oppressive one.
And this same dynamic exists with Circe, too. There’s this ridiculous modern perception that Odysseus was just out there sleeping around by choice, like he was thrilled to have a little vacation from Penelope, when in reality, the text never frames his encounters with either Circe or Calypso as things he sought out. Circe explicitly turns his men into pigs and threatens him before Hermes intervenes, giving Odysseus the means to protect himself, but without that divine aid, he would’ve had no say in the matter. The idea that these situations are somehow consensual because they resulted in sex is completely ignoring the power imbalance and the outright coercion that the Odyssey itself makes clear.
At this point, anyone still trying to argue Odysseus wanted this is either being deliberately obtuse or has a personal investment in making light of what was, objectively, an act of forced captivity. People love to frame it as if Odysseus was just getting lucky with two beautiful women instead of being a man held hostage, denied his home, and forced into a relationship he did not want.
And let’s not forget the double standard here. If the roles were reversed — if a woman were trapped on an island by a god who forced her to sleep with him every night, no one would be out here arguing, “Well, she probably enjoyed it at some point.” No one would be twisting one vague line into an excuse to justify the whole situation. But because it’s a man, suddenly people want to pretend it’s different? No. Absolutely not.
"The nymph no longer pleased him."
People who latch onto this line completely miss the context. They interpret it as "he used to enjoy her, but now he’s bored," which is just flat-out wrong. The phrase in Greek goes as follows:
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κρατὺς ἀργεϊφόντης: ἡ δ᾽ ἐπ᾽ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα πότνια νύμφη ἤι᾽, ἐπεὶ δὴ Ζηνὸς ἐπέκλυεν ἀγγελιάων. τὸν δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀκτῆς εὗρε καθήμενον: οὐδέ ποτ᾽ ὄσσε δακρυόφιν τέρσοντο, κατείβετο δὲ γλυκὺς αἰὼν νόστον ὀδυρομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη. ἀλλ᾽ ἦ τοι νύκτας μὲν ἰαύεσκεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι παρ᾽ οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ: ἤματα δ᾽ ἂμ πέτρῃσι καὶ ἠιόνεσσι καθίζων δάκρυσι καὶ στοναχῇσι καὶ ἄλγεσι θυμὸν ἐρέχθων πόντον ἐπ᾽ ἀτρύγετον δερκέσκετο δάκρυα λείβων. Thus, having spoken, the strong Argus-Slayer departed. And the revered nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus, since she had indeed heard the messages of Zeus. She found him sitting upon the shore; never did his eyes dry from tears, but his sweet life was ebbing away as he wept for his return, for the nymph pleased him no longer. Yet at night, he slept with her by necessity in the hollow caves — unwilling with one willing. But for sure, at night he slept in the cave, forced, though unwilling, by the nymph, who had her way; and during the day, sitting on the rocks and shores, he tore at his heart with weeping and groaning, gazing at the endless sea, shedding tears.
Let’s go through the key points.
1. “The nymph pleased him no longer” is a misleading translation. The Greek says: ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη. This is not “he used to love her, but now he’s tired of her.” That’s a complete misreading.
οὐκέτι (ouketi) – no longer, no more, not anymore. This means that at some prior point, something was different. But what was different?
ἥνδανε (hēndane) – This verb means “to be pleasing” or “to be acceptable,” but in a very passive sense. It does not imply active enjoyment. It’s often used for things that are tolerated or bearable rather than truly loved.
What’s happening here is not that Odysseus used to enjoy Calypso but got bored of her. It’s that, at some point in his captivity, he reached a threshold where even tolerating her presence became unbearable. There’s a difference between “putting up with something because you have no choice” and “actively liking it.” That’s why a more honest translation would be:
“…since the nymph was no longer tolerable.”
It’s not about desire fading, it’s about a breaking point in suffering.
Need more proof? Here are more usages of the same word:
Homer, Iliad:
ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἥνδανε θυμῷ, ἀλλὰ κακῶς ἀφίει ... "But it didn't please Agamemnon son of Atreus in his heart, and he sent him away harshly …"
Here, ἥνδανε is used to describe Agamemnon’s reaction to the priest’s offer. The meaning is clear: he did not find the offer acceptable. It is not about personal delight; it is about whether or not something is tolerated or agreeable.
Now imagine the opposite: if Homer had written ἥνδανε without negation, it would only mean that Agamemnon allowed or tolerated the priest’s offer, not that he was enthusiastic about it.
This is exactly how it functions in The Odyssey. At one point, Odysseus could bear Calypso’s presence. But eventually, even that tolerance shattered.
Herodotus, Histories 7:
ὅτι οὔ σφι ἥνδανε τὰ οἱ Ἀλευάδαι ἐμηχανῶντο. "Because they did not approve of what the Aleuadae were planning."
This line describes the Thessalians siding with the Persians out of necessity, despite not agreeing with the Aleuadae’s schemes. Once again, ἥνδανε does not mean desire or enjoyment. It means whether or not something is accepted, even grudgingly.
If this sentence had simply said "σφι ἥνδανε," it would not mean the Thessalians loved the Aleuadae’s plans. It would only mean they could tolerate or accept them.
Back to Odysseus in The Odyssey.
ἐπεὶ οὐκέτι ἥνδανε νύμφη. "For the nymph was no longer tolerable to him."
Now that we’ve seen the pattern, it should be crystal clear why this does not mean Odysseus ever loved Calypso. The verb here does not indicate passion, attraction, or enjoyment. It means that, for a time, he could bear her presence—but eventually, even that was impossible.
The shift is not from pleasure to displeasure. The shift is from forced tolerance to complete suffering.
2. "By necessity, unwilling with one willing." The Greek phrase: ἀλλ᾽ ἦ τοι νύκτας μὲν ἰαύεσκεν καὶ ἀνάγκῃ ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι παρ᾽ οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ.
ἀνάγκῃ (anankēi) – This is force, necessity, compulsion. He did not go to her willingly.
οὐκ ἐθέλων (ouk ethelōn) – Not willing, unwilling.
ἐθελούσῃ (ethelousēi) – Willing. This is Calypso.
So, let’s be absolutely clear here: the text is explicitly stating that Odysseus was unwilling, and Calypso was willing. If one person is forced into sex while the other is fully willing, what is that called? Assault.
It does not get more explicit than this. The Greek does not leave room for ambiguity. He did not want to sleep with her. He was forced to.
Odysseus was not a cheater. He did not betray Penelope. He was a prisoner on Ogygia, kept there by force, and sexually coerced by a goddess who had absolute power over him. The idea that Odysseus used to love Calypso but then grew tired of her is linguistically false. The Greek never says he enjoyed her, only that, at some point, she was at least tolerable. That tolerance is now gone.
This fits perfectly with the rest of the passage, where Odysseus:
Is forced to sleep with her (οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ).
Weeps every single day.
Wastes away from grief.
Longs for home.
The Greek is painfully clear. The only question is whether people are willing to read it.
The nuance of the particular phrases and words is incredibly important!
woe, kanera cuddle be upon ye
Sketch
Takes my breath away!
Joy, warm as the joy that shipwrecked sailors feel when they catch sight of land
Never getting over this!

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Please take good care of them!
This is the best!
they mean a lot to me actually
i did this in physics class :3 my teacher is also fan of starwars, he's really cool.
The cutest space couple
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane Characters: Abby Griffin, Marcus Kane, Clarke Griffin, Indra Summary:
Wonkru is freed from the bunker, and Indra helps Marcus escape. Marcus has major feelings immediately following their escape, and he seeks comfort in Abby.
Written for Abby Griffin Daily’s Fall Fest Day 4: Free Choice
I chose angsty sex. No big surprise.
Hope
Ok last day for now, but I’m riding the fic wave, so who knows. @abbygriffindaily Day 4-Free Choice. Uh, not a big surprise, I chose some angsty sex.
Set during Season 5: Episode 4, Pandora’s Box
NSFW-no cut
Marcus’ heart thumped wildly as the pulleys lifted him toward the sunlight. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive. Was this truly happening? A few hours ago he’d been begging Abby to survive without him, to continue on in that Hell despite the darkness that was swallowing them both. And now, he felt as though they truly were rising from the ashes.
He could almost taste the air, even in the wasteland that was once the breathtaking city of Polis. He sucked huge lungfuls, willing it to cleanse the decay of failure and devastating inaction from his soul.
When his feet touched the ground, he felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. They had survived. No matter what they might have done, he and Abby were still here. And against all odds, so was Clarke. He half stumbled down the steps into her arms, overtaken momentarily by joy, maybe even hope.
He watched her as the ropes pulled Abby free from the rubble, and her face as she took that first breath of fresh air in six years made his heart clench. She came down the steps with a true smile on her face, he couldn’t have even imagined it would feel this good.
The sheer relief radiating from Abby at seeing Clarke again was palpable. True, his own relief felt immense, but he wasn’t her father, even if he might have wanted to be. When he watched Abby take her in her arms, rubbing her back in a soothing way she must have done when Clarke was a child, it felt like home.
It felt almost too intimate to continue staring as Abby held on to Clarke like a lifeline. It seemed like a moment they should share alone, so Marcus shifted his gaze to survey their surroundings.
The city lay in ruins. He remembered the day so long ago when he first set eyes on Polis, the bustling marketplace nearly bringing tears to his eyes. To witness such life thriving simply humbled him to the core. At the same time, it had brought hope. And now, gone. It ached, the promise of peace and unity violently torn away once again.
But at least they’d made it out of the bunker alive, right?
Indra’s presence startled him out of his contemplation.
“Wait for nightfall. If you get caught, I won’t be able to help you.” Her words were precise, almost sharp, as usual. She met his eyes briefly, pressing the key to his handcuffs in his hand before turning quickly and striding off, likely to find Octavia.
“Come with me.” Clarke said, stepping towards them. “This way.” She led them into a small alcove between two of the crumbling buildings, then in a small doorway to a tiny, almost hidden room. “Stay here while I take a look around, and find Bellamy.”
Abby opened her mouth to argue, but nodded slightly, possibly realizing that neither one of them should currently be seen if they wanted to avoid conflict. She took the key out of his hand, and turned his wrist to unlock the handcuffs. When they clicked open, she took them and pulled the bag down off her shoulder, unzipped it and placed them inside, slipping the key into a smaller pocket hidden in the lining. Marcus rubbed his wrists gently, and he saw her shift immediately into her doctor persona.
“Let me take a look, Marcus.” She said, pulling his arm toward her.
The guards that had taken him back into lockup soon after Clarke and Bellamy crashed through the floor had cuffed him, so the marks around his wrists were mostly surface abrasions. Only a few places had broken skin, and Abby worked quickly, cleaning and wrapping the wounds.
“The wounds aren’t bad.” She said softly. “We’ll probably be able to take the dressings off tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he choked, suddenly hit with a wave of relief. He wasn’t supposed to have any more tomorrows with her. A few hours ago, he was walking toward certain death at the hands of Blodreina. But here they were, free from the devastating misery of the bunker, and Abby’s gentle hands were once again soothing his aches, and he couldn’t help but drag her into his arms, and sob. She came willingly, clutching him tightly as her tears soaked his sweater. He poured out his anger, his guilt and regret, trying to wash his soul clean in the safety of her embrace. They held each other as they crumbled. Once their deep, heavy sobs calmed and their breathing steadied, Marcus pulled back to look into Abby’s eyes. She spoke first.
“I almost lost you today.” Her words were almost a whisper.
“I know.” He replied. “I’m sorry, Abby. I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh,” she said, placing a finger on his lips, “you’re here now.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and crushed his lips to hers. It was everything he’d been longing for since those brief moments they’d shared when he begged her to let him go. To allow him this sacrifice in the name of saving them. Of saving their souls. And now, he was so relieved to escape that fate he could taste it.
Her lips were soft and warm, and her tongue slid into his mouth as soon as he allowed her entrance. Their hands were everywhere, touching as much skin as possible, though with her leather jacket on that was far less than he’d prefer. She was demanding and rough, almost as if she couldn’t get him close enough. It thrilled him, made his cock ache, and his fingers dig into the skin of her hips. He drug her into his lap, and she ground against him deliciously. It was almost torture with so much fabric still in the way. He needed to be closer.
“Abby, oh god, that feels good.” He murmured. “I want you so badly.”
“I want you too, Marcus.” She replied, grinding harder.
At that, he lifted them both off the floor, pinning her against the wall, and she didn’t waste a second following his lead. Her hands went to the button on his pants, deftly flicking it open, and her hand was on his throbbing erection in an instant. She stroked him a few times, and he shuddered against her. She moved her hands to his pants, pushing them and his underwear off his hips, freeing him. He groaned, wanting to press her harder against the wall, but he needed to get her pants off first.
“Fuck,” she groaned at the same time he realized which pants she was wearing. Of course the ones with straps around both legs. “I want these off.”
He worked quickly, never more thankful for the years of practice he’d had in similar situations. He unfastened the straps on only one leg, and stooped down to pull the boot of that foot before she figured out his plan, popping the snap open and dragging them down to her mid thighs. He pulled the end of that pant leg down and off, and she frantically pushed her panties to the side as he pulled her legs around his waist and sunk inside her warmth. They both gasped when he bottomed out a few strokes later, clinging to each other. The pace they set was almost brutal, desperate. Their kisses were messy and consuming as they devoured each other.
Abby’s back smacked the wall with each thrust, and Marcus was thankful they’d left her leather jacket on in their haste. He could feel his orgasm begin to coil at the base of his spine, and he moaned as she gripped his shoulders tighter.
“Abby, I can’t... I can’t hold on...much longer.” Marcus pleaded, and Abby slid one hand between them, rubbing her fingers in tight circles around her clit. She increased her pace and he responded, thrusting harder.
“Yes, Marcus, just like that.” she cried, burying her face in his neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin.
They rocked together frantically, and within moments he felt her walls squeeze his length. She cried out, and he finally gave himself over, white-hot pleasure flowing through him as he pulsed inside her.
They slid to the floor as the strength in his arms gave out, and as he pulled her into his arms once again she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I love you, Abby. So much.” He said as he turned his neck to place a gentle kiss in her hair.
“I love you too Marcus.” She replied, and he felt utterly peaceful, content with, even knowing that they’d have to face their harsh reality again all too soon.

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Traditions
This is for @abbygriffindaily ‘s fall fest Day 3: Pumpkins
Pairing: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Set in season 2. Sometime in October before Mt. Weather.
He’d found them at a tiny stall in a traveling marketplace and felt absolutely awestruck. Of all the things that had used to grow on earth, they were the most fascinating. Deep orange in color (something they almost never saw on the Ark), and giant, at least compared to most of the other produce, they seemed almost magical.
He remembered being intrigued by the stories of their use in History, everything from desserts to a fancy container for candles on All Hallows Eve. He’d loved to comb through the archives, gleaning information about long lost traditions from Earth.
So when he’d seen them resting with several types of squash, he knew he needed them. They weren’t as big or round as the ones he’d seen in their digital books on the ark, but they were just as beautiful, their rich orange skin a color Marcus still wasn’t used to seeing in person. He was amazed, and determined all at once. The people of the Ark deserved at least one nice thing on this Earth, and he now knew how to give it to them.
Luckily, he’d brought a cart from the camp, as it was his job on this particular supply run to barter for a variety of food. They’d begun to grow what they could in the new climate, and of course had some seedlings from farm station on each of the stations that fell to the ground, but they were limited by timing and knowledge. So far, he’d managed some apples, beets, brussel sprouts, cabbage, squash and berries that looked like grapes. And now, the pumpkins. He made the deal, grabbing one other special treat. He traded some of his own supplies, and headed back toward camp Jaha,
As he made his way along the road to camp, he thought about some of the traditions he’d found the most interesting. All Hallows’ Eve or Halloween as the people of Earth had commonly referred to it before the bombs, was celebrated on the last day of October, only about two weeks away. He thought maybe he could convince Raven to plan some sort of celebration. Throw in a little moonshine, the pumpkins carved into Jack-o-lanterns for decoration and it might even feel like a real holiday.
Raven immediately agreed, hurrying off while saying something about accessing the Ark’s old database of music, and the plan was in motion. Now all he had to do was figure out how to carve these things.
Cutting open the top and scooping out the insides (saving the seeds for planting and as much flesh as he could for eating of course) was the easy part, he soon discovered as he attempted to carve the first Jack-o-lantern face. He managed a couple of rough triangle shapes for eyes, and a fairly crooked mouth with his large knife, realizing he could really benefit from a some smaller carving implements. But aside from a small hunting knife, the only thing he could think of for more intricate details in the camp was a scalpel, and he wasn’t quite sure how to get this idea past Abby.
He tried to look nonchalant as he wandered into the medical tent looking for supplies, but Abby noticed him almost immediately.
“Marcus, do you need something? Is someone hurt?” She questioned quickly.
“No, no, nothing like that. I, uh...just needed to ask you if I could borrow something.” He reassured, trying to seem like he wasn’t up to anything, but Abby was at once suspicious.
“What exactly do you need from Medical?” She asked, eyebrows raised.
Well, the jig was up. He might as well come clean with her now.
“I found some pumpkins on my supply run, and I, ah...thought maybe since Halloween, you know, that Earth holiday in October was coming up, we should maybe have a celebration.” He stumbled through the words, feeling foolish, but Abby smiled.
“Are you planning on making Jack-O-Lanterns, Marcus?” She replied with a slight sparkle in her eyes, and Marcus remembered the conversation they’d had as teenagers on the Ark.
___________
Abby had always been just as proficient in History as Marcus, although slightly less fascinated by it, favoring anatomy and biology studies. Since they were evenly matched in the subject, they often studied together. They’d once had a test where they’d had to memorize three beliefs or traditions from cultures about each Holiday, and he’d traded some old radio parts and a couple of extra rations for two pieces of chocolate and invited her to his family’s quarters to study.
When they came to the Halloween section of the test, they’d agreed that the Samhain beliefs about the veil thinning between the earthly realm and the spirit world, prompting the idea that by dressing as a spirit, humans would be passed over by any creatures released from the underworld, and the long standing tradition of carving pumpkins into faces to represent soul lights, were the most fantastical and interesting, so that left only one. He knew that the tradition of trading sweets to prevent misdeeds had mostly been adopted during the commercialization of the holiday, but he found it the most fun, and he hoped Abby would too.
“Before we decide on the last one, I have something I think you’ll like,” Marcus nervously mumbled as he and Abby sat cross-legged on his bed. “I uh, want you to close your eyes though, and open your mouth.”
She looked at him like he’d grown a third eye, her eyebrows raised. “What? Why Marcus? What are you planning on doing? This isn’t about that stupid tradition of tricks is it?”
“No, I promise, no tricks. Just, please, it’s really not anything bad.” He replied, more nervous than when she’d first walked through the door, smelling of Jasmine, smiling shyly and making his heart race.
“I don’t know.” She drawled, looking like she might be considering it.
“I would never hurt you, Abby. Never.” He replied, taking her hand in his and looking into her eyes.
“Ok, but if it’s something gross, I’m leaving.” She pronounced, narrowing her eyes slightly.
“Deal.” He nodded, a silent promise that she could trust him.
She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth, and he placed the chocolate on her tongue.
“This is my favorite tradition, I thought maybe it could be ours.” He spoke gently, feeling as though he was jumping off a cliff.
“Chocolate!” She squealed, “where did you find this?” She opened her eyes and threw her arms around him.
“Oh you know, around. Mess hall,” he joked, smiling. Her giddy excitement was contagious.
“This is perfect.” She said quietly, still smiling. “Thank you, Marcus.”
“You’re welcome Abby.” He replied, wishing they could stay in this moment forever.
__________
“Actually, yes, Jack-O-Lanterns are exactly what I’m planning.” he replied, smiling. “I thought it might be fun. And that’s certainly something we could use around here.”
“I think it’s a great idea, Marcus.” Abby replied, on one condition. “I get to carve some too.”
“Absolutely.” He agreed readily, grinning.
Some time later, they were elbows deep in pumpkin guts, laughing like they hadn’t in years, if ever. They had both been successful with their small hunting knives, and the additional help of the scalpel. They all had very different faces, some quite intricate, and Marcus and Abby were both pleased with the results.
Raven soon came looking for Marcus, telling him that she’d planned everything for the next night, and almost immediately rushed off to gather more supplies.
“I’d better go check on Medical,” Abby said, brushing some loose hair out of her face, leaving a few strings of pumpkin on her temple.
“Yeah, we’ve been at this for a while,” Marcus replied, unconsciously reaching to pick the pumpkin from her face. She sucked in a quick breath at his touch, and he pulled his hand away.
“Sorry, you just had some pumpkin on your face,” he supplied, attempting to smooth over the tension that had surfaced.
“Oh, thanks,” she answered quietly. “And thanks for this Marcus. I haven’t laughed like this in years.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Marcus said sadly, remembering the cold, unfeeling front he’d had to construct to keep their people alive on the Ark.
“Goodnight Marcus.” Her voice sounded almost conflicted, as if she really wanted to stay.
“Goodnight Abby.” He smiled, watching her as she walked away.
The next day the camp was buzzing, excitement for the celebration that evening lifting the whole camp’s spirits. Almost everyone had pitched in, some making food from the supplies Marcus brought back, some creating makeshift tables and chairs, several collecting wood for a larger fire, and a couple helping Raven run the sound system through the speakers in the Rover.
Marcus and Abby had collected enough torches to light the Jack-O-lanterns and had loaded them into a cart currently hidden from view. Now they just had to wait for nightfall.
As the sun began to sink below the trees, people began moving things into place, lighting the fire and setting out dishes of hot food. They had plenty of moonshine made up, and the engineering team was just connecting the last of the wires. Suddenly, upbeat music streamed across the camp, and a resounding cheer followed.
They danced, drank and ate well into the evening before Marcus and Abby pulled the cart out with the Jack-O-Lanterns already shining light in every direction. One person looked up from the merriment as they walked by, then shouted, “hey guys, look, it’s like Halloween!” Everyone crowded around them, marveling at the pumpkins, exchanging ideas they’d heard about the Holiday, smiling and laughing. It had worked. Marcus turned to look at Abby, and the smile on her face warmed his entire body.
Several people carefully lifted the Jack-O-Lanterns, depositing them in strategic locations so everyone could see. Groups of people moved from one to the others, smirking about the funny ones and inspecting details on the more intricate designs.
Marcus was feeling ridiculously happy. Something had actually turned out right for once, and even if tomorrow brought more heartache and pain, at least they’d remembered what it felt like to have fun. He wanted to ride the wave of contentment while it lasted, so he plucked up the courage, with a little help from the moonshine, and walked over to where Abby was talking with a few of the kids, intent on asking her to dance.
She smiled as she saw him approach, excusing herself from her previous conversation.
“Marcus, this was a wonderful idea,” she hummed, grasping his arm. “I can’t believe how relaxed everyone looks.”
“I know. It’s really something. I didn’t think about how much we all needed it. Just a little time to let go of everything else and enjoy this amazing place.” He sighed, soaking in the moment.
“Abby, will you dance with me?” He asked, his voice unsure. He held out a hand and she took it readily.
“Yes Marcus, I’d love to.” She smiled sweetly, allowing him to guide her gently toward an unoccupied corner.
He put his hands on her waist, but she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him, eliciting a gasp. He was certain she could feel his heart rate increase when she rested her ear against his chest. This was near perfect bliss. He never wanted to leave. They danced to the calm, romantic song, and when another one came on after, he couldn’t help but wonder if Raven might be trying to subtly tell them something. He chuckled lightly at the thought.
“I almost forgot, I have something for you,” he whispered in her ear, feeling her shudder slightly against him. He pulled back, gently taking her hand, placing the paper wrapped square of chocolate in her palm.
“Is this what I think it is Marcus?” She gasped, eyes lighting up. “Our tradition?”
“You remember that day?” He questioned, excited.
“Of course I do!” She exclaimed. “That was one of my best memories of the two of us, before...” she trailed off.
“Before I became who I was and pushed you away,” he supplied, his tone lace with bitterness.
“We were different people up there, Marcus. That’s not who you are to me now. You’re...someone new. Well, almost new.” She murmured, taking the chocolate out of the wrapper and breaking it in half.
“I have another piece,” he started, but she cut him off by placing one of the pieces between his lips, smiling.
“I know you do. This way you can surprise me another time.” She replied, wrapping her arms around him for another dance. She wanted to live in this moment as long as time would allow.
Comfort
A short fireside fic, for @abbygriffindaily ‘s fall fest Day 2 (even though it’s day 3, I’m working on that one too). Favorite pairing : Kabby
The embers popped gently in the fire pit. The fire kept the worst of the chill away, but Abby still shivered under the thin blanket, the crisp fall air seeping into her skin. It was late, well past 1am, and she should be sleeping, but like many nights, it just wouldn’t come, so she’d settled by the fire after checking on Jackson in medical and wandering around the perimeter of the camp for a while.
There were guards that occasionally walked past on their patrols, but otherwise, the camp was quiet. She savored it, never completely certain when the next time might be.
She heard the crunch of boots behind her, and turned to see Marcus standing above her with a coat.
“I thought you might be cold out here,” he started, his voice gentle, and she felt warmer before he even leaned down to ease it around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she replied, pulling her arms through the sleeves. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? How did you know I was out here?”
“I was late leaving my shift, and I decided to check the perimeter around the east side where we just repaired the fence. I saw you walking, and figured this might be where you ended up. I also noticed you didn’t have anything to keep you warm, so I grabbed one of the extra guard jackets while I was packing up. I know you tend to stay out here a while when it’s quiet.” His voice sounded a little sheepish, and she smiled slightly.
He smiled, and she scooted to the side of the log she was sitting on, making room for him if decided to join her. He looked uncertain for a moment, and then his expression changed, softened as he sat down next to her, their knees gently brushing.
“Are you tracking me Kane?” She teased gently, and he laughed a little, remembering the words she spat at him in anger not that long ago. It seemed like forever.
“I’m still tracking everyone, Abby.” He said, narrowing his eyebrows like he used to, but couldn’t quite keep the ruse up, breaking into a smile as he said her name, so unlike how he used to.
She offered him part of the blanket, and this time he seemed more confident, moving just a little closer and accepting it easily. She rested her head gently on his shoulder, and thought she might have heard his breath catch, but decided to pretend it was just the cold.
“I like it out here, even with the cold. It’s peaceful.” She changed the subject, wanting to focus on the calm of this moment, and not dredge up any more old memories.
“It is. Almost like there isn’t a war threatening to break out at the slightest provocation, right outside these walls.” His voice sounded weary, and it made her heart ache. They’d had so few moments like this, without fighting since they came to the ground.
“The truce will hold,” she answered, but the slight tremble in her voice belied her words. “It has to.” That last part was almost a whisper, and he knew at that moment why she spent so much time here alone. Waiting. For Clarke. Hoping she’d come home on her own. Hoping there was something to come home to. He hoped those things too.
“We’ll find her, Abby.” He responded, his voice certain.
She wanted to believe him, more than she wanted almost anything. She wanted to take comfort in his steadfast determination, let it surround her. Keep her safe and warm. But she wasn’t sure if she could. She wasn’t even sure he wanted her to, even though in the last month it seemed like they might be moving toward something different. Something more. And she wanted more, especially in moments like these, with his warm body so close.
She shook herself out of her reverie, and took his hand, entwining her cool fingers in his. He leaned closer, and they stayed like that, allowing themselves this comfort while no one was around, as they watched the fire slowly die.