drunk kane

IV. Drunk and not-quite-married

{Read on Ao3}

“I don’t know why I married him.”

The statement is thrown so lightly and carefree, that Raven doesn’t know what Abby is talking about at first, so it takes her a few seconds to realize the actual meaning of the words. She is silent for a moment, not knowing how to react or answer to that piece of information. And, more importantly, not understanding why is Abby telling her this now.

It is a cold night despite being spring, and the fire pit is full of people drinking and just enjoying each other’s company. Clearly, Abby has had way too many mugs of moonshine, not only because of her red cheeks and the way she’s slurring her words, but also because she’s not used to openly talk about her feelings. Even less to talk about Jake.

“Abby…” she mumbles, not comfortable at all with the situation she’s in. She turns around searching for Clarke, because if she learns that her mother is drunkenly regretting marrying her deceased father, all hell will break loose. But Abby’s daughter doesn’t seem to be around, and Raven sighs. “Why the hell are you telling me…?” The girl doesn’t have the chance to finish her sentence, because Abby interrupts her as if she hadn’t realized someone was speaking to her.

“It’s just like I don’t exist anymore…”

Just when Raven follows her eyes and realizes she had been looking at Marcus, she relaxes a little and smiles. But still, something inside her stomach turns in regret: of course Abby wasn’t talking about Jake. She kept wearing his ring around her neck for a long time, and hers will probably never be forgotten; that kind commitment is not from a woman who wishes she had never been married.

“Abby,” in Raven’s face there is now a wide smile, “you do realize you’re not actually married to Kane, don’t you?”

Abby doesn’t seem to listen, staring at Marcus. He’s on patrol that night, and is now walking around the fence with David Miller by his side; even though he has a gun on his arms, he seems almost relaxed, enjoying the night and the conversation. But he doesn’t realize Abby is there, so he isn’t able to see the way she’s glaring at him.

“But what’s the point of having a husband if he’s barely there?” Abby doesn’t really mean it, and she realizes it even in her drunken state. Regardless, she doesn’t take it back.

“He’s not really your husband,” Raven insists, but she’s ignored once again.

“I miss him, you know? I’m working all day, and lately all his shifts are at night, and I…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Raven groans, interrupting her, “please tell me this is not about sex.”

That is enough to make Abby come back to Earth.

“What? No!” she shakes her head and immediately regrets it, the whole camp blurrying around her. “But he seems happy, not spending time with me, without us really seeing each other at all. What if…?” But she doesn’t have the chance to finish her question.

They both see Marcus coming closer, and while Raven hopes Abby doesn’t make a fool of herself, part of her is actually counting on it. She smirks when he finally stops in front of them.

“Goodnight, ladies,” he says, smiling to Raven and bending down to press a kiss on Abby’s hair. But, to the surprise of everyone watching ⎯Raven and some of the people around them⎯, Abby moves her head aside and casts him a reproachful glance. “What the…? Is everything okay?”

She avoids answering because doesn’t have any rational thing to say, so she promptly ignores him in hopes he stops asking.

Then she tries to stand up, reclutanctly letting Marcus grab her arm in order not to fall when the world starts moving around her, and tries to leave for her room immediately. After taking a few shaky steps, Abby stabilizes herself and Marcus releases her arm, not following despite Raven’s arched eyebrow.

He’s definitely not fighting with a drunk Abby tonight, so whatever the problem is, it will have to wait until the morning… Even if it means sleeping alone in the Chancellor’s office couch.

So I went to a party last night and got drunk as hell. So of course, I had to write a drunk kabby fic. I had time to kill babysitting my niece anyway. This was nothing like i had intended it to be but then it just kind of…happened. I guess i was reminded of this one big bang theory episode. Anyway, enjoy!

Mild crack fic, cannon compliant, set post S2 pre S3.


Abby Griffin was drunk.

She wasn’t just tipsy or a little unsteady on her feet, but stumbling, face flushed, laughing and throwing her arms around Jackson, smashed off her face.

It had been three months since Clarke had brought down Mt Weather and rescued their people. Since then, everyone had been picking up the pieces and starting again, enjoying their period of peace, something that everyone (specifically Clarke, Raven, Monty, Harper and Jasper) believed was well worth celebrating. So with much persuasion and Marcus’s eventual support, the kids managed to convince Chancellor Griffin to let them throw a party.

Fortunately for them, free trade between the Skaikru and Trikru meant that their people could purchase goods they hadn’t had access to before; ripe grapes, apples and pears, and extracts from other fruity, spicy plants. This meant that moonshine was no longer their only alcoholic option, but Monty and Jasper were now able to brew wine, cider, and a rage of alcoholic spirits for the party.

Marcus wasn’t sure how much Abby had to drink, or how she came to drink so much when she had never been a heavy drinker; although he suspected that Jasper and Monty - who were sharing wide eyed, disbelieving looks and bursts of laughter as they watched their drunken Chancellor dance on the floor - had something to do with that.

Nonetheless, Abby had drunk enough that she felt as light as a cloud of helium balloons and tingling all over, alcohol clouding her mind so she was filled with nothing but the dizzying desire to keep on spinning, dancing and laughing with Raven, freeing her spirit from her body.

And Marcus couldn’t stop watching her.

Keep reading


Title: Hot
TV Show: The 100
Ship: Kabby
Note: LOL I can’t stop.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.

She’s personally offended by her liver at how useless it seems to be in this moment. She had remembered reading somewhere in one of her medical textbooks about the organ being able to metabolize approximately one shot of alcohol every two hours.

‘So either my credible textbook is wrong or Marcus is sneaking me more alcohol than necessary,’ she thinks to herself.

It’s the eve before Unity Day and the camp has successfully quieted down for the night. There were no pressing matters for Marcus to attend to… no medical emergencies that called for Abby’s presence.

From where she sits, reclined back on his couch upon which she’s taken many naps, she clutches her tin cup close to her chest as she watches him pace back and forth in his office. The gray t-shirt he’s wearing does nothing to hide his sculpted chest, his toned arms, or his sleek abdomen.

She takes another sip of the bitter alcohol.

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt. She can see the beads of sweat trailing down his neck and licks her lips.

“Is it hot in here or is it just me,” he asks.

You’re hot,” she says under her breath. The words, barely audible, cause him to spin around so fast, a bit of alcohol spills over the edge of his glass.


“What,” she mimics him, quick to counter him, trying her best to remain calm. She nods, finally. “Oh, I said ‘You’re right.’”

He narrows his eyes at her, and for a moment, she thinks she’s gotten away with her drunken confession. He turns around to face the office door. She brings her tin cup to her lips, smiling behind the piece of metal, and allowing herself to take one, small victory sip.

But she nearly chokes on it when he turns sharply, catching her off guard… and the drunken smile on her face.