Daily Reminder That I’m Constantly Blown Away By The Sheer Amount Of Talent And Positivity In This

How about the ineffable husbands finding out about Beelzebub and Gabriel’s relationship? :D

This was honestly so much fun to write, I hope you like it!

*

“Are you kidding, angel?” Crowley snorts into his drink, lounging lazily on the sofa in the middle of Aziraphale’s beloved bookshop. “Beelzebub would smite him before he even got close to her.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The angel hums, shelving a couple books he had almost lost to a potential buyer that afternoon. Of course, Crowley had interfered and scared the boy away with his antics. 

“You’re out of your mind.” The demon snorts, tipping back the last of his drink and wiping a hand over his mouth. “Lord Beelzebub loves nothing and no one. Well, except maybe those damned flies.”

“I never said anything about love, my dear.” Aziraphale chuckles, shaking his head and going over. He nudges Crowley’s legs, sitting down beside him and sighing when his lover sets his gangly limbs into his lap. 

Crowley considers this. “Well… I guess they’d probably be fucking. That seems more likely. Hypocrites, the lot of them.”

“What else are you expecting, my love?” He sighs heavily, patting his legs. 

“S’pose you’re right, angel.”

*

One afternoon, Crowley comes hurtling into the bookshop like, pardon the irony, a bat out of Hell. He slams the door, jostling the poor little bell, and leans against the door. He looks as though he’d seen Jesus Christ in the flesh.

“Aziraphale!” He hisses when the angel pops his head around a bookshelf to see what the commotion was all about, a reprimand on his lips. 

“Really, Crowley, must we go over the slamming doors lecture every month?” A very put out angel sighs. 

“Forget the door, angel!” He rushes over, hovering over Aziraphale as he leans up on his tiptoes to pull a book down from the shelf. 

“How am I supposed to forget every time I have to replace a glass pane or a chipped bell?” He huffs, shaking his head and reaching for another book. 

Before he can grab it, the demon grabs him by the wrist and whirls him around. The books tumble to the floor. Aziraphale’s eyes widen as he’s pressed back against the shelves. “Really, dear, at least let me close up shop…”

“No, I- Angel! This is important!” 

“Oh, alright then, what is it?”

“I saw Gabriel kiss Beelzebub.” He hisses, his eyes glinting intensely behind the rims of his glasses, which had been knocked askew in his desperation to get his angel’s attention.

“You…” The angel takes a moment, letting this all sink in. “What?”

“In the park!” Crowley stresses, shaking him by the arms. “By the duck pond!”

“Alright, okay! I believe you, dear, you don’t need to shake the life from me.”

The demon releases him, brushing his suit off sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“Are you absolutely sure that you saw them and not another couple who looked similar to them?” Aziraphale says carefully, noting the crazed look in his lover’s eyes.

“No, I- Oh, bugger it all.” He hisses, snapping his fingers. Instantly the shop begins to close itself. “Come with me, you’ll have to see this yourself.”

Crowley whisks Aziraphale off to the park with him, back to their normal bench. “There!” He hisses, pointing to a couple a few hundred yards away. 

Sure enough, it was the infamous Archangel and the Prince of Hell herself. They were leaning against the railing, watching the ducks. 

Gabriel was bent forward slightly so he could talk to her easier, his hands shoved in his pockets and the button of his suit jacket undone. Beelzebub was lounging against the railing, peering down at the pond and talking to him. She had forgone her usual attire for one of his dark grey shirts tucked haphazardly into a pair of worn out black jeans, her hair piled onto her head and stuck through with what looked to be a thin knife.

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathes, his eyes as wide as saucers. He leans forward to get a better view, but Crowley yanks him back. 

“They’ll see you!” He whispers fiercely. “We have to be sneaky…”

“Right, of course.” 

*

“Oh, look, the biggest idiots in all of Soho have finally noticed.” Gabriel snorts, setting his hand on the railing beside Beelzebub’s arm, trapping her with his body. 

She hums, sliding her gaze over to them before turning around and looking up at him, giving him a wicked smile. Her slim fingers wind around his tie, effectively wrinkling it. “Shall we give them a show.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Gabriel teases, just before he’s tugged down sharply into a surprisingly gentle kiss. Beelzebub lifts her free hand, flipping off the pair not-so-secretly watching them.

That ought to get their point across.

I just watched a kid break down in the bookstore because his books for the semester totaled $600 and that’s the american university system in a nutshell

The Surface and Other Incredible Things

Where have you been?

Dammit. So much for being sneaky. Keith winces, turning around to face his adoptive older brother. His tail flicks nervously, glittering in the dim light of their cave. Nowhere, he replies, giving the shark-like siren an innocent smile.

Shiro watches his younger brother, his piercing silver gaze staring right through his lies. Then why are you late to bed? He asks.

The smaller siren laces his hands behind his back, studying his elder brother. Shiro was worried; he could tell in the way his gills flared. It was funny to think that Shiro - the Shiro who had taken on a shoal of wicked looking fish to save Keith when he was just a tiny hatchling, the Shiro who was scarred and had lost an arm fighting to save their home - was scared. And for him, of all people.

Am I late? Keith decides to play dumb. I hadn’t noticed.

Sharp silver eyes narrow. Shiro swims closer to his brother, circling him and brushing his rough, webbed fingers over Keith’s scales. You’re missing one, he observes. He pulls his fingers away, sniffing his hand. His nostrils flare and he hisses, making Keith duck away from the noise. Uh oh.

Humans! Shiro seethes. What were you doing with humans? I thought I made myself very clear that you were to stay away from the surface.

Keith snatches his tail away, scowling. I got caught in a trap. It was an accident! I was chasing a shoal near the tides and I got swept into a trap.

Scales don’t come off easily, Keith. His older brother takes his wrist, pulling him toward the deep cavern they lived in. Where did that go, pray tell?

Shiro! He whines, dragging his tail along the walls to try and slow them down. Stop dragging me, I’m not a guppy. And it’s none of your business where I went, I’m almost fully grown.

You still have two winters until you are considered an adult, Keith. Bubbles float up to the water as Shiro sighs, turning to face his little brother. I am your guardian. You live in my cave, you abide by my rules, do you understand?

Your rules are stupid. Keith tries to pull his arm away, but Shiro was too strong.

My rules are designed to keep you safe. The elder siren starts to pull him to his part of the cave. And when you disobey them and come home smelling of humans, you have to face your consequences.

I told you! Keith lets out an undignified, annoyed screech. His brother stops, giving him a look of exasperation. The younger siren huffs - he was only acting like a guppy because Shiro was treating him like one. It was an accident. The human saved me! I got trapped in a net and he saved me.

Shiro pushes him into his section of the cave, stiffening. The human touched you? Is that why your scale is missing? Did he steal it? He snarls, his shark-like teeth glinting dimly. Keith shrinks back, sitting on his bed and patting the woven kelp rug. He knew what those teeth could do, he had seen it firsthand.

No, he didn’t take it. I… I gave it to him.

Shiro roars, the sound bouncing off the walls of the cave. The younger siren whimpers, his ears pinning to his head and his tail coiling underneath him. The warrior doesn’t notice; he paces the cave angrily.

What does he look like? Shiro seethes, gnashing his teeth, his massive fins splayed wide in a show of aggression and dominance. I’ll kill him, I’ll rip his head from his body and feed the rest of him to the fish. How dare he? Who does he think he is?

Keith coos soothingly, picking at the kelp underneath him with his claws. He didn’t want the human to come to any harm - he would quite like to see him again, given the chance. Not that Shiro needed to know any of this.

I gave him the scale willingly, he says, as a thank you.

The bigger male turns on him, his mood switching from vengeful to alarmed. You did what? Oh, Keith, tell me you didn’t just do what I heard you say…

The siren shifts, brushing his tail off and looking up at his guardian, squaring his shoulders. I gave it to him.

Shiro drags his hand down his face, letting out a low moan of exhausted worry. Do you understand what you’ve done? Humans are greedy, he will go back to his village and show it to them. He’ll lure you to the surface just to steal all of your scales - I wish you weren’t so handsome, I really do. Maybe then he would leave you alone.

Hey! Keith lets out a sharp, indignant cry. He wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed because his brother wished he was unattractive, or flattered that Shiro thought he was.

I will deal with you tomorrow. Shiro huffs, giving him a firm look that meant go to sleep, Keith. The young siren was very familiar with that look. He watches as his brother settles in, shuffling with his own bed in annoyance. Now he would never be let out of sight.

*

Sure enough, Keith was not allowed to leave Shiro’s sight until the next full moon. Even when the time had passed, it was like pulling anemone from a coral reef to get him to agree. The patrols for the tribe was lacking one of their greatest warriors. The elders were becoming worried that perimeters might have to shrink if Shiro didn’t return.

It was this that pulled him away from watching Keith with an intent silver stare as the younger siren rolled around the cave, going mad with boredom.

I’m on night patrol tonight. Shiro informs him one afternoon, after they had returned from hunting.

Are you? Keith tries not to display the thrill of excitement that had run up his spine.

No bright ideas, Keith. His brother shakes his head. I’ll be back by moonrise. I expect you to be in your bed then, do you understand? No going to the surface, no chasing shoals, no humans.

Yes, Shiro. The siren groans, putting his hunting knife away. I know.

Shiro’s gaze softens. He swims over, ruffling Keith’s hair. I love you.

Yeah. I love you, too.

Keith has to wait until Shiro stops fussing over him and actually leaves before he can do anything. He waits for a few ticks, holding his breath. Once the sound of the patrol fades away to almost nothing, he darts out of the cave and rushes for the reef.

He hides there for a little while, peeking over it and watching. His brother casts worried looks over to the cave, but a few of the soldiers clap him on the back. One of them says something and Keith can see his brother laugh. Good.

The young siren waits a few more minutes before he races to the surface, over to where the tide pulled in. The human’s nets weren’t over by the rocks he had been caught at. With a curious noise, Keith turns tail and swims up to the other side of the coast.

No… his nets weren’t around the cliffs. There was no sign of anyone over by the sandbars… The reef was clear. Keith blows bubbles, scowling. What did humans have to even do? He was more important than any other trivial, frivolous thing that humans did.

Just as the siren was about to turn tail and go home, a shadow falls over him. He blinks, darting around before he looks up at… what looked like a flat, floaty surface. His ears perk, his gills and fins flaring in excitement. Could it be?

He watches as a net is cast into the water, letting out a happy trill. It was! He darts his way to the surface, peering up. Just in case it wasn’t… but it was! His human was sitting there in the floating contraption, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Keith breaks the surface, letting out an excited screech to get the human’s attention. It lets out a similar cry, but he seemed more surprised than excited. The siren wriggles with glee, hauling himself up the side of the boat and clicking excitedly.

“Oh, hello.” The human laughs, looking down at him with eyes that glittered like the sea. Keith sighs internally. Were all humans this pretty, or just his? “I’d hoped to see you again soon.”

The siren whirs and clicks, scrabbling at the side of the boat before managing to haul himself into it with a splash and an almighty flop. The poor contraption creaks wearily, bobbing about frantically.

Keith doesn’t seem to notice. He edges closer to Lance, his amethyst gaze bright with excitement. He reaches out, pressing his hands to the humans fragile cheeks. The siren screeches again, pleased.

“Okay, okay,” His human winces. “Take it easy on the ears, bonito.”

Hm. This one spoke the same strange words that the other ones on this coast did. He coos, leaning against the human’s side, brushing his hands down his neck. Keith stops when it gets caught on something, tugging.

“Oh, hold on.” The human bats his hand away gently, reaching into his outer layer of not-flesh and tugging out some sort of ropey thing. He never had understood why humans tied things to their bodies. “Recognize this?”

Keith makes an inquisitive noise, looking down at it. His eyes widen. That was his scale! The human was wearing his scale! His human was wearing his scale! The siren wriggles about, tugging at the twine before pulling his hand away and brushing down his scales self consciously. He had forgotten to groom today.

His human laughs, shaking his head. “I thought you’d like that. What brings you here, mm? Am I really that interesting?”

The young siren looks up at him, tilting his head this way and that. Yes. So much more interesting than my cave. Shiro was going to have a sea cow.

The human reaches toward the siren. Keith startles, sliding back into the water and peeking up at him, his eyes wide.

“Okay, so, no touching.” It pulls it’s hand away. “I can do that.”

Keith blows bubbles, then tips his head up and spits water at his human.

“Hey!” It laughs, lurching back and putting up a hand to shield itself. “I get it, no touching! You play nice, bonito.”

Keith is about to hop aboard the floaty thing again, but the moon catches his eye. Oh! It was almost fully risen - he had to get back before Shiro did! He squeaks, splashing frantically, but stops and looks up at the confused human.

He had to go. There was no time for goodbyes. With a mournful little squeak, Keith splashes him and ducks under the water, leaving the human with only bubbles and his own voice crying out in confusion.

By the time he makes it home, Keith just barely misses the patrol. He ducks into his bed, curling up and closing his eyes, holding his breath as Shiro comes in. Okay. Just breathe. Pretend to be asleep. Nothing had happened, he wasn’t guilty.

Shiro swims over, tucking the woven kelp over his brother with a soft noise of fondness. Keith tries not to smile. A hand brushes through his hair, gentle.

Goodnight, Keith. His brother ghosts a kiss over his cheek before he retires for the night. The younger siren waits until his brother is still and quiet before he rolls over, looking out at the moon’s reflection in the water.

He’d see his human again soon. Not even Shiro could keep him away.

Part 2 of The Children of the Sea

Part 1 | Part 3

How about something like Sevika finding out that Vi has chronic pain (in my head it's canon) and taking care of her?

Vi was stubborn. It was something Sevika had picked up on very early in their relationship. She saw things through to the very end, regardless of how it could affect her, and found pride in reaching the end. However it turned out. This extended to pushing through pain, physical or emotional, which often led to worse outcomes. 

Vi suffered from migraines. Sevika suspected they stemmed from trauma; either a physical blow from childhood, or just trauma in general. Vi had suffered through so much in her short life, and Sevika had seen the damage trauma could do on a body when it was unchecked. Luckily, Vi hadn’t picked up shimmer to cope; unluckily, she hadn’t picked up pain remedies to help. 

The migraines started days before they fully hit. It started with lethargy. Vi was quieter than usual, more restless. She often dug her fingers into her lower back, eyebrow twitching and lips thinning with discomfort when she thought nobody was looking. Maybe she mentioned her back was bothering her, maybe she took a longer and hotter shower than usual. Most times she said and did nothing, opting to press fingertips against her spine as hard as she could when she had a moment alone. 

The next stage came in quick succession. It rose to her shoulders, sitting heavy against her scapula and pinching harshly at the back of her neck. She could blame it on sleeping wrong, maybe tweaking something. She moved slower, winced a little if Sevika put too much pressure on her shoulder or held her too tightly. 

The day before a migraine, Vi was moody and irritable. Her entire neck was tense, any stress going right to where her muscles seized. She was quicker to snapping, unable to be touched for long periods of time, and often quite emotional. Vi spent most of the day snapping and immediately apologizing, overwhelmed by simple tasks or the accumulation of circumstances, one after another. If something went wrong, it was immediately a hundred times worse than any usual day. 

When the migraine finally migrated to her head, pulsing angrily and making her vision blurry, Vi was rendered incapable of doing anything. She spent the first hour of her day trying to get through things, until her body finally gave into the heaviness her head was carrying and she surrendered to the misery. After an hour of muscling through and making things worse, Vi ended up in bed. Naked and face down and covered in a soft blanket. The curtains drawn, the lights out, feet poking out from under the blanket so she didn’t overheat. 

The first time Sevika had walked in on this, she’d received nothing but an incoherent mumble in explanation, and had run to Caitlyn of all people for some help, after Jinx had no idea what it could be. 

“Oh, it’s a migraine.” Caitlyn had explained, her voice crackling over the phone line. 

Sevika hunches over the phone, tugging on the cord, the receiver pressed to her ear. “Migraine?” She repeats. She wasn’t very familiar; Silco suffered from them, on occasion, but he usually could do one of his eye treatments and be fine after. 

“Mhm. Just let her do her thing, she knows how to handle it.”

Sevika was not a person who could sit idly by and let things happen. Sevika was a doer. She got shit done, and handled, and sitting back to let something of this magnitude happen to the woman she loved would not fly. So she puts a cool compress on the back of Vi’s neck, presses a kiss to the wrist of the one hand poking from under the blanket, and goes to write down all the unusual things Vi had done in the days leading up to this moment. 

She takes notes about the day after, too; the way Vi seemed so drained, the exhaustion that tugged at her bones and kept her a few paces behind in her normal routine. Sevika writes everything down and settles in to wait for the next episode she knew would come. 

The next time Vi suffers a migraine attack, Sevika is suddenly… hovering. Vi finds it odd, and tries to wave her off, but Sevika is weirdly insistent on being close. So when Vi digs her fingers into her back, Sevika notices, and instead presses her own warm palm to her lower back. 

It helps. Vi sinks into it, eyelashes flickering, and Sevika watches the little crease in her brow fade slowly. She keeps her hand there for as long as Vi will allow, and moves on once Vi pulls away. That evening, she insists on snuggling before bed, and lulls Vi to sleep by rubbing gentle circles against the tension building in her back. 

When it moves up her spine and Vi gets irritable, Sevika is there. Sevika doesn’t touch as often, not after she tries once and nearly gets her head bitten off (from pain, she realizes later, when she reflects on what had triggered it). She does urge Vi to take some painkillers before bed, much to Vi’s reproach and dismay, and once again settles her partner with an open palm massage across the expanse of her back. When Vi is properly sleepy, she presses her fingers to the hollow of Vi’s nape, rubbing gently at the indent where her spine connected to her skull. She gets a sleepy little grunt of relief for that. 

The day the migraine properly sets in, Sevika calls and informs the Council she would be absent, and she stays home. 

Vi is confused about this, but she’s also… very much not herself. She can hardly pull herself out of bed. It takes her twice as long to even pull the covers off. It’s not until she tries to get up and make herself breakfast that Sevika intervenes. 

“Let me,” Sevika says, easing her back into bed. It’s… heartbreaking, not to feel her usually headstrong and stubborn partner struggle against her hold. Instead, Vi sinks back into the bed. She’s frowning, but exhaustion and weary pain clouds her usually bright gaze, and Sevika is glad she isn’t fighting. 

“Vika,” Vi tries to argue, but it’s weak. Sevika tugs the covers over her again. 

“No, shh. Let me take care of you. I’ll go run a bath, and you can chill there while I make breakfast. Okay?”

Vi nods once, then flinches as pain strikes her through the skull, closing her eyes and settling in. 

Sevika nods too, then hurries away to their shared bathroom. She closes the door most of the way to muffle the noise, turning the tap on and running it hot. She crouches, pulling out a bag of things she’d researched and learned were good for migraines. Epsom salts, peppermint bubble bath to ease any nausea. She grabs an ice pack from the freezer and wraps it in a damp cloth for the back of Vi’s neck. 

Her towel goes in the dry for a cycle, and once the bath is ready and quiet, Sevika goes to collect Vi. She’s nearly asleep again, face pressed deep in her pillow. Sevika pauses, hesitating on even bothering her, before recovery and damage control returns to the forefront of her mind and she scoops Vi up. 

Vi is nearly a ragdoll in her arms, head dropping against Sevika’s chest and limbs heavy with the weight of pain. Sevika adjusts her carefully, pressing her lips to the top of her head as she carries Vi to the bathroom. 

Undressing her is painfully slow. Sevika didn’t want to move her and cause another jolt of pain, but she didn’t want to unnecessarily draw it out, either. Vi shifts to help every so often, and Sevika promises herself she’d find a way to do this easier before another migraine like this could hit. It’s a few painful minutes, but finally she’s able to set Vi in the bath and press the cold compress to her neck. 

“I’m gonna make some food, okay?” Sevika murmurs, pressing the gentlest of kisses to her temple. “Call if you need me.”

“Mhm,” Vi hums softly, eyes closed. 

Sevika lights a couple candles and flicks out the lights for Vi on the way out, leaving her in a dimly lit bathroom for the time being. 

She rushes through making a simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and fruit (she would worry about a better meal later, after Vi was peacefully resting and she could get the things needed to make a meal helpful for migraines). Sevika sets everything on the bedside table and gathers the towel from the dryer before going to collect Vi. 

Vi was breathing softly, eyes closed and head tipped forward. She wasn’t sleeping, though - her fingers were tracing idle circles in the water. Grey eyes flutter open when Sevika gently nudges the door open. 

“Hey,” Sevika whispers, smiling faintly. “Hungry?”

“Mm,” Vi hums noncommittally, and Sevika takes that as answer enough. She steps over and drains the tub, wrapping her partner in a fluffy, warm towel and carrying her to bed again. 

It’s a process to get her to eat even a few bites, and Sevika settles on good enough when half of the plate is gone. She convinces Vi to swallow a few pain relievers and helps her settle into bed. Naked, warm, and safely tucked in. Sevika’s getting ready to pull the blinds closed and leave her in peace, when fingertips snag her sleep shorts and Vi blinks up at her from under her blankets.

“Stay?” Vi asks, her voice rough.

Sevika softens, nodding. “Let me get everything put away, okay?”

Vi nods, settling in and letting her go. 

Light speed wouldn’t be fast enough to get Sevika into bed with Vi. She dumps everything in the kitchen, then books it back to the bedroom. She skids to a stop before tiptoeing into the bedroom. She makes sure Vi is safely tucked in before she climbs in to lay over top of the blankets, cocooning Vi in. She gets a soft, content sigh in return. 

Sevika gently tucks Vi against the side of her body, smoothing down damp hair and moving to rub her back carefully. Vi buries her face deep in the pillow again and settles, her breathing evening out. 

“Thanks,” she breathes after Sevika is sure she’d fallen asleep.

Something in Sevika melts. “Course, baby. Rest.” She murmurs. 

Maybe tomorrow would bring some exhaustion, and maybe her tactics weren’t perfect, but Sevika was determined to get better at migraine care. Just so Vi would be able to rest easy, knowing she’d be taken care of in a state as vulnerable as this.

For now, that was enough to let Sevika relax alongside her partner.

***

This is absolutely not me projecting my own chronic pain onto Vi, lol. What. Anyway.

@presumptivelyalesbian

via weheartit

I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! ❤️ I hope tomorrow is better for you!

I’ve been watching a lot of Mad Men because Jon Hamm and I cant stop thinking of like a sixties AU with Gabe and Beez, or just switching out broody Don Draper for Gabriel so could I suggest a domestic 60s set Ineffable Bureaucracy thing?

I decided to do 1968 because of the Apollo 7 mission (I think Bee is just a huge space nerd) and also because I have no idea what Mad Men is (thank you for giving me a new show to watch though, holy shit!! Jon Hamm is a gift). I tried very hard to do this in a 60s setting but it may come off more as 50s themed- I pulled some familiar stuff I know from The Help and read up on some careers before I hopped into this. Bee’s name is Beatrice in this because reasons.

*

Gabriel loved his life. He had a good job working as a Creative Director in a big advertising company, made enough money to be comfortable, got the weekends off to do whatever he pleased, and had a lovely wife to go home to. 

Wife. The concept was still foreign, still made him shiver and smile and feel mushy as could be. Bee would tell him to shove a sock in it, if she were here.

He and Beatrice Romanov had gotten married only a month ago, but only because she had insisted she was going to finish her college degree before he was allowed to strap her down. Gabriel would have liked to have married her the minute he had seen her under those trees in the college courtyard, but she had put her foot down. 

It took a lot more to court her than just a charming smile and a compliment, he had learned very quickly. In fact, the first time he’d done that, he’d ended up with a milkshake in his lap. 

“I’m not a cheap whore,” the soon-to-be love of his life had snapped, her dark eyes blazing with hellfire. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Gabriel had never been spoken to like that by a girl — or anyone — before. At first he was offended, so he made it his duty to try and outdo her in each of the classes they had together. Unfortunately for him, he’d found his match. She was whip smart, mean as a junkyard dog, and took shit from absolutely nobody. Many men had walked away with tattered dignity and a broken nose after attempting to tame this wildfire of a girl. 

He quickly found that instead of wanting to defeat her, Gabriel wanted to impress her. He wanted her to give him that sharp little smile she got when she won. He wanted to hear that laugh, wicked and graceless, that she would let loose on occasion when she was around her friends. He wanted those dark eyes to be on him, always. He wanted.

That wanting turned into a game of cat and mouse very quickly, both of them doing things that had society frowning and the other taunting them to continue. Heated looks across classrooms. Stolen kisses against the bookshelves of the library. His hand on her thigh, her back pressed to the cold stone wall of her dorm building. 

One night, Gabriel took the bait, and had his world shattered by his name broken on her lips, her body bare against his, those eyes looking up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

Gabriel woke up the next morning with his vessel of hellfire next to him in bed, her inky black hair spilling over his pillow and tickling his nose. The sunlight streaming in the window made her skin look like porcelain, her body ethereal and too perfect to belong in even Heaven. The frustration and pent up tension that remained in him quickly gave way to something that melted his insides, took his breath, and made him pull her closer and press a kiss to her hair.

Three years later, he knelt in front of her with a small velvet box and watched those beautiful dark eyes glisten with tears and love and the promise of a future.

And now he got to go home to his future every single night.

“Leaving already?” Comes a teasing call as Gabriel packs his things up for the weekend.

He looks up, then gives his co-worker a polite smile. “Ah, Sandalphon. Yes, it’s my night for the dishes and Bee wants to watch the Apollo 7 launch with me.”

“You’re whipped, you know.” Comes the predictable laugh, accompanied by others in the office who were bad at pretending to not listen in on conversations. “That wife of yours has you on a leash.”

Gabriel shakes his head, unable to help his smile. “What can I say? I like a girl who takes charge. Evening, gentlemen.”

He leaves with wolf whistling and whoops following him out, but his mind is focused on calculating how much more time it would be until he got to go home to his wife. If he stopped at the supermarket and bought her favorite bottle of wine and some flowers, it would only add another fifteen minutes…

*

“You’re late!” Comes the call when he closes the door. He winces — he had been trying to be quiet so he could surprise her. Nothing got past Bee. 

“Sorry, my love.” He calls, slipping his shoes off and treading carefully into the kitchen. 

The sight that greets him is one he’d come home to for the rest of his life, but one that would always make his heart swell and his knees weak. 

His wife was standing at the stove, stirring what smelled like spaghetti sauce, a red gingham apron tied around her neck and waist. Her hair was pulled back from her face, piled messily on her head and stuck through with a knitting needle (his mother had gotten them for her, trying to insist she needed to be more ladylike. Bee wore them in her hair out of spite. Besides, they did well in a pinch).

“Hello,” Gabriel walks over, pausing to kiss her cheek before fetching a vase to put the flowers in. “I brought you something.”

Bee glances up, surprise flickering in dark eyes, before she smiles. “Sap. Put the wine on ice, we can have it with dinner. It’ll be ready in a little bit.”

“It smells good, Bee.” He does as he’s told, then pulls up a chair at the table to sit and talk with her while she finishes dinner.

His wife blows a stray hair from her face, her brows creasing. “Your mother sent the recipe to me. No, she showed up to my work to give it to me. Spent twenty minutes going on and on and on about how a good housewife always makes her husband’s favorite things…” Bee makes an irritated noise. 

“At work?” Gabriel sits up, frowning. “I’ll talk to her…”

“No need,” she says, with that grin she used to give him just before she dragged him behind a building at school and kissed him senseless. “I took care of it.”

“Bee,” he says, a rush of fondness and exasperation rolling over him. And maybe a bit of dread. “What did you do?”

“Oh, she’ll call you about it later.” She waves a hand, her smile growing. 

Gabriel didn’t even have it in him to be upset — his mother was insufferable about everything Bee did. About how she dressed, how she behaved, how she treated Gabriel. When Bee’d refused to marry her son in a church, that was when Gabriel accepted that he was going to be stuck in the middle of an eternal feud.

But watching his wife move around their kitchen and complain about her day, he found he couldn’t mind. It was amusing to see his wife come up with petty ways to get back at the people who annoyed her. It was definitely a good reminder that she would put up with none of his shit, not ever. 

“Are we watching the launch during dinner?” Gabriel asks when she turns the stove top off. 

She brightens. “Yes! And the newest Star Trek comes out tonight, too. You don’t mind if we watch both?”

Gabriel gives her a fond look, getting up to get them both some wine. “Not at all. Whatever makes you happy, darling.”

Bee grins, blocking his way and leaning up on her tiptoes for a kiss, her fingers snagging and wrinkling his work shirt. He bends to meet her, his hand resting against the curve of her spine and tugging her closer against him as their lips meet.

The chase had been well worth it, Gabriel reflects, as his wife hooks a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down farther to her mercy with a wicked smile. He wouldn’t trade any of this for anything.

Let me know if my summaries don't catch you and give me tips on what you'd like to see! I'm kind of shit when it comes to introductions (I like the middle parts when stuff is happening) so any help would be appreciated!

@fanfic writers, I am literally begging you please put a summary on your work. It doesn’t even have to be good. It could be an excerpt from the writing itself. But you need that summary. It’s what gets people’s attention. Even if you’re writing a cliche, don’t just write “oh just your average so and so fic, you know the drill.”

And give yourself credit too! Don’t write “oh I suck at summaries,” or “oh, this sucks, it’s my first time writing.”

Readers don’t know that! Let them be the judge of that, because if you advertise your bad writing they’ll take your word for it and scroll past.

You deserve those views fam! Just put a summary, it makes your story look way more appealing.

And, as I mentioned above, if you don’t know how to write a summary, just take a bit of the writing that you already have a put it as the summary. That’s effective too. It can even be more effective, cause sometimes I see that and I go “oh my gosh! That’s funny! I want to see this in context.”

But y'all need summaries. And y'all need to stop selling yourselves short. You can do it! I believe in you.

Kudos to fanfiction writers for writing about all the trauma and emotional and mental turmoil that the original content creators dont acknowledge when putting characters through hell

me: i wanna write, i feel like writing

*opens a doc*

me: ok brain now let’s write

my brain:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends)/Vi (League of Legends) Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Silco (Arcane: League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Viktor (League of Legends) Additional Tags: Muteness, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Zombies, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Virus Summary:

Putting a bullet through your father’s head long range was one thing. Putting one through your sister’s, while she begged you not to, while the light died from her eyes, was entirely different. Vi stared her sister in the eye, listened to the snapping of bones in a leg hanging onto her body by the threads of torn muscle, as it tried to reconnect itself and her skin flushed hot with a virus that felt more like a wildfire - and she pulled the trigger.

***

zombie au, add a little selective mutism Vi and one arm, no prosthesis Sevika