um hey what up, followers who are also fans of “The 100,” I started a side blog to pour all of my Kabby obsession into, specifically for posting sexytimes fanfic later.  THAT’S RIGHT, EVERYBODY, 33-YEAR-OLD SPINSTERS WHOSE ONLY AGE-APPROPRIATE CRUSHES FROM THIS SHOW ARE THE PARENTS NEED A HOME FOR THEIR SMUT TOO.  I’m a little bit REAL FUCKING EXCITED about the fanfic (reblogginhood approves so far!) and will probs be posting the first chapter later this week, but in the meantime, if you want to just drown in an endless sea of Kabby GIFs, follow me at this new link too.  LOVE AND KISSES!


As of May 3, 2025:

Name: Marcus Avraham Glass
Age: 27
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Professional Singer/Actor/Model
Recent Work: 

Music: At the End of All Things EP (2018), Gasoline (2019), Incredible Things (2021), Plans (2023), The Eye of the Storm (2025)
Film: Delirium (Mark; 2018), The Marauders (Arthur Weasley; 2020), The Silmarillon (Maedhros; 2022), Clockwork Angel (Henry Branwell; 2022), Clockwork Prince (Henry Branwell; 2023), The Name of the Wind (Kvothe; 2024), Clockwork Princess (Henry Branwell; 2024), Miss Saigon (Chris; 2025), Daredevil (Matt Murdock; TBA)


@marcusglass: I just bought another cat. Someone stop me before I become a crazy cat lady
@marcusglass: TONY NOMINATIONS
@marcusglass: Flying home for the classes of 2015-2018 reunion! I have pretty mixed feelings about this, tbh. Also, why all the classes? So many people, i cant

Recent Messages:

[Text to: Maria]: I know the promotion for the movie and the album are really important, okay, and I know that as my agent, you’re supposed to help me make wise career moves and all that jazz, I got that. But I haven’t seen most of these guys since I was eighteen, and I want to just spend one weekend catching up. Then no more distractions, I promise.
[Text to: Kays]: Kayaaaaaa are you goooiiinnnggggg?

mistress-strex asked:

"Marcus, are you sure having me here with all these Night Vale people is the best idea... Y'know, considering who I work for?" Divina said softly, putting a pair of large white sunglasses on. She hoped that would at least mask the fact she's a Desert Bluffs resident. The black eyes were a dead giveaway. "I don't wanna ruin things for you."

“Considerin’ I live in Night Vale, then yeah…” Marcus tilted his head with a soft chirp. “Yer gon’ be fine, y’ain’t the only Bluffian comin’, babe.”

  • Octavia:"You think they have?"
  • Raven:"Don't you?"
  • Octavia:"Do you think everyone knows?"
  • Raven:"Have you seen the way he looks at her?"
  • Octavia:"You think he knows?"
  • Raven:"How could he not? Have you seen her eyes light up? And his smouldering stares?"
  • Bellamy:"Are you two still playing the questions game?"
  • Raven:"Sounds like you'd like to join, am I right?"
  • Bellamy:"Why don't you just ask them? You think Marcus will shoot us? Flip us off? And what will Abby do? Smile and nod?"
  • Marcus:"Why don't you all mind your own damn business?"
  • Raven:"Are we getting to you? Making you feel all soft and mushy?"
  • Abby:"Marcus, let's harden you up. Wanna come with me?"
  • The camp:"...."
  • Bellamy:"Did she just....?"

anonymous asked:

Wait this might just be me BC Im weird but to me you look so much like Marcus Butler I can't even 🐻

Helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo People do say that actually I can’t see it though

Calling A Truce by Eternal Ruler

Eternal Ruler

“…You vant me to do vas?” The dark haired Medic asked, staring up at his captor, an unamused expression appearing on his face as he waited for Marcus to (hopefully) explain himself.

“You will be with me when I speak to the red leader or leaders. I am extending a temporary flag of truce to see if they wish to surrender.” Marcus answered factually, staring down at his beautiful Hans. “I would rather have you there willingly, but if I must I will tie you up. Afterwards if they do not surrender however, you will be placed into a cell to stay until my team either captures the requisite number of reds or the time runs out of the mission parameters. Considering the fact that we are not even a month into the game and half of the required number of reds have been captured – including you. Or you could cooperate and willingly stay by my side as I deal with the red leaders and if they do not surrender you will remain as you have been – relatively free so long as you stay within my eyesight and do not attempt to escape or cause trouble.”

Hans thought about his options for approximately three seconds, stalked closer to his lover (and for the moment, jailer) leaning against him and purred “I vill villingly stay by your side, schatz. If I vanted to be a captive trapped in a jail, I vould have let you lock me into zhat cell earlier.”

The Heavy smirked a little, green eyes sparkling behind his goggles, his hands going to the other’s waist as he pulled the Medic in a little closer “Good – please do not speak unless I ask you something while I negotiate with the red leaders, or I will gag you.”

“Is zhat a threat, or a promise?” The German responded, clear blue eyes full of mischief as he went on his tip-toes to kiss the elder on the lips. “I vill do mein best to behave for you, liebe~. For now we may be on opposite sides, but I have a feeling zhat zhis contest vill end soon.”


Hans was extremely curious as to who would come as the red leader or the red leaders. Unless something had changed from this morning, the team he was (very loosely at the moment) aligned with had no definite leader – mostly because no one wanted to cooperate with anyone else unless it was with their plan and their name as the leader for the most glory. The German had been fine with the chaos – as long as he had the other Medics and they had cooperatively come up with plans (which had apparently been anticipated, at least from what Marcus had said. Whether or not the older mercenary had been telling the truth or had been messing with his mind was another matter entirely).

He was currently sitting on Marcus’ lap, leaning against the other’s chest with his head resting on one of the elder’s shoulders. His hands were folded on his lap, bound by plastic zip ties (which he could break out of – it would hurt and his healing abilities would need to be come in). The zip ties were a compromise that Marcus made to appease his lieutenants. One of the Heavy’s hands rested on Hans’ knees.

“I can feel you sulking, Hans.” The blue leader rumbled in amusement, a small smirk appearing on his face as he gazed down at his sulking lover. “Your hands will be unbound after the red leaders leave.”

“Ja, I know. I just don’t’ like mein hands being shackled.” The dark haired doctor responded sulkily. Despite his words and tone, the Medic was quite contentedly settled in Marcus’ lap.

One of the blue Spies (the woman was a cook normally, but in this contest, her true vocation as a Spy had emerged) rushed forwards from a hidden side door “There are four red approaching under the sign of truce, and so far we have not seen any others approaching. The order to maintain vigilance in case the red team decides to attack while under the guise of talking terms has been given to everyone.” She blinked a little in surprise at the enemy Medic in the older mercenary’s lap, but it was likely a psychological ploy – and the Medic’s seeming docile leaning was likely due to the fact that he wasn’t trapped in a cell… And that the two of them were lovers, or that was the rumor that was going around.

“Very good. Any hints on who the leader is, among the four, or all of them leaders, Hans?” Marcus asked curiously. The Heavy was quite certain that his Medic would be aware of who the leader of the red team was – whether the stubborn German would actually listen to said leader depended entirely on if the other trusted the other. Considering that Hans had gone in by himself and ended up being captured, Marcus sincerely doubted that Hans held much, if any regard for whoever was coming.

“I have no idea who zhey are sending. Probably whoever managed to brawl zhier vay to zhe top today. Red team is not zhe most… Vell organized group, und zhe factions are split along class lines for zhe most part. Zhe Engineers und Pyros vere aligned fairly vell, und zhe Medics had assistance from zhem before ve got all captured because zhe Soldiers und ozher attack classes vere insulted zhat mere Medics vere zhe vones leading zhe attack forces. Despite zhe fact zhat ve vere effective.” Hans responded with an irritated growl at the hugely insulting words. He realized that Marcus would use that to his advantage and stopped speaking. Hans was still glowering about it, but he refused to speak as he had a faint hope that the team he was allied with would rescue him.


“As we agreed I will be the one mainly speaking. If any of you idiots do I won’t hesitate to wallop you… And does anyone know where that terrifying Medic went?” Simon growled at the lunatics who were the leaders of the other factions. It was a pity that they had lost all but one of their Medics to the blues, but really they had been asking for it. Medics were supposed to stay back at base, safe and protected while they worked on the injured, not out on the front lines, leading the strike forces. That was the job of Soldiers like himself, or possibly Demolitions Experts or Heavy Weapons experts.

“The only Medic of ours that hasn’t been captured yet? No he wandered off this morning, likely to go scare some of the blue into doing god only knows what.” David responded, shivering a little. While doctor Meisner seemed cheerful and friendly, there was something a little… Off about the tall German, and the Spy had long since learned to trust his instincts.

“I don’t know why you are afraid of him… He has such pretty white wings… And his eyes are so sad… he’s grieving the loss of his loved ones.” Samantha – the Pyro who had tagged along interjected, that same vaguely unsettling smile on her face as she walked with them. “A flighty dove – pursued by soulless metal. I wonder if he knows that All Hallows Eve is near…”

None of the other three were quite certain what to say to the obviously more than slightly crazy Pyro – and none of them wanted to potentially upset the fire-loving mercenary for fear of being set on fire if she decided that doing so would be pleasing. Eventually Simon answered “We’re nearly there – form up men and women! We have – oh hell.”

There before them in the room they had been directed to, sitting on the blue leader’s lap (of course it was the chief of security, the man was Classic Blu Heavy for sanity’s sake) with his hands bound and a dark look on his face was their remaining Medic.  Said Medic was scowling… not that any of them blamed him – being on display like that was far from dignified in the least. David had the distinct feeling that this meeting was not going to end very well for his team.


Awkward Introduction series

Previous:  Game (NSFW)

Would You Turn Your Back On Me?: Arianne & Marcus

On the balcony of Arianne’s chambers, looking out to sea, Marcus stood stoic as a cold marble statue the wind rushing from the coast ruffling his hair - dark and lustrous, it could almost have been mistaken for a simple brown. But the sun shining down reflected sultry hints of deep copper which could be seen around the edges and in its wily shine. Out of all the places he could stand guard for his princess he had to admit this was his favourite having just enough measure of both sun and shade to be comfortable - to most other foreigners to these lands the heat would be blazing but Marc had a long amount of time to let his body acclimatise finding a comfort in the salty breeze stirring the gardens and waves into a gentle rushing symphony whilst he watched fishermen and merchants alike peddling their trades.

As he stood there unmovingly he allowed for his thoughts to wander dwelling on how the smallest and seemingly most inconsequential matter could drastically change the pattern already in motion. Marc was resilient, driven by desires that few else who he surrounded himself with could ever understand due to the fact that he didn’t trust them enough to bring them in. How could any of them understand? Most days when he was on duty with Arianne he would often stand and speak to her - keeping them both amused from some of the boredom that a lack of activity caused though today it was different. Most of his conversation had died away from his pensiveness - lingering on thoughts of what Roslin might be doing right now at the tourney, whether Arys would be there riding and fighting. How much had Little Twig changed since last he had seen him? Would his mother have made the trip to Storm’s End to see her son become an even greater champion than he was already? Memories spun and whirled through his mind recalling the life of another starkly different person; of a proud son and brother, one who had promised to do good. How had he fallen so far from what he had always aspired to be? Over the course of his travels Marc had tried to keep a watch on his little brother - observing his ascent to fame from afar, Arys had done everything he ever wished to do and for that Marc felt a pride he could not put into words.

And then there was Roslin, the sweet girl who must be enjoying the festivities and who he might have spent his time with had he not currently occupied this position - not that he regretted the decision, in fact he appreciated everything that Arianne had done for him. She had taken him in as her confidant even in the short time he had been there he was beginning to feel a trust build that he had never expected to exist. His breathing was calm yet his usual hint of a smile was set in a neutral line evidently lost in less favourable thoughts - his reverie soon broken by Arianne’s voice piercing his musings. How long had she been speaking to him? Blinking the haze which had befallen him he turned to face his princess with a small bow of his head, “my apologies your grace… My mind was lost elsewhere” he admitted in his typical tone carrying such a strange eloquence that it often caused those who heard it to stop and listen to whatever it was Marc had to say.