Archive of Our Own

The problem with Pepa's lightning, if you asked the town, was the occasional small fires that would be started just because she was startled, or particularly angry at something. It normally wasn't a gigantic amount of destruction, but it was enough that by time she hit her teens it was a practiced job to put them out.

The problem with Pepa's lightning, if you asked her brother, was just how great her aim was if he really angered her.

If her mother or sister were asked they'd say the problem was the pain it caused her, physically and mentally to deal with knowing she could hurt someone just by being scared or upset, without ever trying to, to deal with what it did to her own body sometimes.

In Félix's opinion the issue with the lightning his wife could conjure was not the fires, or the brief jolt of pain, it was her upset, and that the marks left behind on his skin didn't linger.

Sure they couldn't be taken away by Julieta's cooking, but they still faded after several days like they had never been there to begin with and that was unacceptable in his mind. Pepa might complain out loud, but he'd caught her tracing the marks she left on his skin enough times to know she was at least a little fond of the designs she left on him, however secretly.

Félix was less than quiet about his fondness for them, for being marked up by his wife in a way only she could manage, unique trails on his skin specific to her and her alone. But they'd fade every time to his annoyance, and it wasn't like he could just ask Pepa to jolt him with lightning to mark him.

She'd never dare hurt him intentionally, no matter how minor a pain he found it anymore she wouldn't leave those marks unless her anger or fear was accidentally misdirected, or in the heat of the moment if he was lucky.

Which left him one other option if he wanted them to last.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Félix had asked the question three times already, each time with a different degree of unease. The idea was simple enough in concept, to wait until he had those brilliant marks scored across his skin again and nip down to spend the day with someone who could follow the trails exactly and perfectly mark them into his skin with ink to make sure they never disappeared again.

It'd take hours to do properly, time for the ink to set, time between sessions to let his skin heal properly and to keep the pain from being too much. Félix however needed it done in one sitting before his wife could find out and potentially put a stop to plans she'd no doubt refer to as idiotic at the least.

Who needed multiple sessions over several days and time to heal when they had Julieta's arepas and tequila?

In practice the only person he knew who would willingly sit down with him and spend hours doing it was Agustín's sister.

His baby sister.

She looked impossibly young, even as she laid out a kit of various tools along with bottles of dyes and inks, waiting for him to 'stop being a baby' and lay down on the coffee table she'd spread a towel across so they could get started.

"Of course it's safe. How many men around here have tattoos? You think I'd screw up something with my name attached?" Valentina demanded with all the arrogance of a teenager, "Let's get this show on the road."

Félix took a breath and accepted the shot glass Agustín handed him with a gleeful expression, "This is going to really hurt isn’t it?"

"Drink up," Agustín answered cheerfully, moving to sit out of the way nearby.

Muttering a quick prayer for strength and for no one to find out and rat him out ahead of time, he stripped off his shirt, tossing it at Agustín’s head, "You better know what you’re doing."

"If I didn’t know what I was doing I wouldn’t be offering to do you," Valentina replied dismissively.

"Uh huh." Félix gingerly laid down on the table, eyeing her tray of tools with distrust, “Do I want to know why there are so many needles on that one?”

"More accurate and filling line work." Valentina nudged his shoulder to make him lay flat.

"Uh huh, and the big stick?"

"To smack you when you start crying. Just kidding, it’s just to whack the needle harder into your back."

"Don’t worry," Agustín grinned at Félix’s look of panic, “We’ve got arepas and an entire bottle of tequila, we’ll be golden.”

"You, you will be golden," Félix stretched his arms out over his head like Valentina directed, letting his hands hang off the table, "You are not being stabbed a few hundred times."

"Oh a few thousand easily," Valentina corrected him, cool hands tracing the lighting scars on his skin as if deciding where to start, "You could try to count, maybe that would take your mind off of things."

--

It hurt more than he’d imagined it would, which was amazing in itself considered he was certain it would hurt terribly.

He was three shots in before too long, staring down at the pillow under his face as if it could numb the pain each smack of the needle drove into his skin.

By hour two Félix was waving her to stop at least long enough for him to take a breath, have another shot.

"Here I'd think lightning hurt more than a needle," Valentina mocked him, taking the opportunity to stretch and pop her back, wriggling her fingers like Agustín did when he'd been sketching for too long.

"Lightning is instant, over in a second, and normally while other fun things are happening." Félix took the arepa Agustín handed him, not dignifying his future brother in law's snort with a remark, and stuffed half of it in his mouth. Instantly the pain across his back disappeared, the slight nausea going with it.

Apparently it hadn't damaged Valentina's work however, as she traced the marks she'd made in his skin with an appreciative look on her face. "Maybe we will be able to get this all done today."

"Maybe," Félix took another shot before he let himself be made to lay back down on the table, to resume the torment that would get him what he wanted in the end.

--

It was a rather big piece, all together so Valentina had said. Yes they were lines that were fairly thin, but they also covered from just between his shoulders to his waist, then around his belly and up his chest, a fair amount of skin to cover overall. She'd rejected the idea of covering his bicep and upper arm as well, even though they were there too, on the basis of it taking too damn long for one day.

He could always come back and get more though, so long as the marks returned to that area again when he was zapped, they weren't always the same.

As it was Félix found himself kicking himself for the idea of covering more than his back as each smack of the needle into his side made him jolt, trying his hardest to remain still.

Valentina tapped his ribs with the back of her hand when he squirmed again, "C'mon, Agustín didn't whine and move this much."

"Agustín does not have a tattoo," Félix huffed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yes, he does, I put it on him."

"He does not have any ink on him. I've seen him in his underwear and--" Félix paused, leaning up on his elbow as Valetina cursed to stare at Agustín, "Gus... what do you have on your ass?"

"Shame, regret, and tequila," Agustín responded remorsefully, handing Félix half of an arepa when he winced again at Valentina shoving him back into place.

"Shame and regret? Amor y estupidez," Valentina mocked her brother, nudging her glasses up with the back of her hand, "He didn't whine as much as you do."

"What'd he get put on him?"

"Nothing!" Agustín squeaked trying to cover his sister's words, "Don't you dare tell him--"

"It's a possessive noun and if I hadn't done it I doubt he would have worked up the courage to propose but then he had to because otherwise it'd never make sense."

Agustín groaned, "That's not what a possessive noun is."

"It absolutely is. She now owns your ass entirely, deal with it."

Félix let the words go over his head for a moment before it hit him and he laughed hard enough Valentina smacked his ribs again to make him sit still.

"For reference, oh pain goddess, Juli's the one who proposed. Your brother was too late for that."

"Do I need to tattoo you again?" Valentina half yelled in mock outrage as Agustín protested and called Félix out as a traitor.

"But why the ass?" Félix projected his amused voice over the sound of sibling bickering.

"Cause Julieta thinks he has a cute butt and-"

"I hate you." Agustín spoke over his sister, dulling her words.

"You love me," Valentina waved her dismissal, "I'm your favorite."

"Bea is my favorite," Agustín countered, and Félix couldn't help but grin at the easy way he named a favorite sibling without care, "you just enable my bad ideas and make them work."

"Fair, Bea's everyone's favorite."

--

"Oh man, Pepa's gonna lose it," Félix craned his head down so he could see the bright red lines slowly overtaking the dimmer colored lines as ink covered temporary scarring, "She's gonna be so surprised."

"That you went with red?" Valentina asked absently, carefully wiping away excess dye to clear his skin, "It shows up well."

"That I got it done," he grinned, letting his head thunk back against the table to stare up at the ceiling. They had a nice ceiling. Whoever did the spackle did a really good job. Good for them, it was so pretty.

"- me?"

"Huh?" Félix blinked trying to get his mind back to words because words were being said weren't they? "What?"

Valentina stared at him aghast, "Are you telling me your wife, Encanto's answer to Zeus with less bastard children and infidelity, does not know I'm currently permanently altering your skin? Her husbands skin."

"Uh, maybe?" Félix offered, glancing towards Agustín who had probably had less to drink than he had, "Right?"

"We may have not informed her of our plans, that is correct." Agustín agreed, spinning the bottle between his palms and making the liquid inside it slosh keeping Félix's attention.

"You-- you did not tell me this was a secret." The hesitation in Valentina's words made Félix grin.

"Don't worry, she won't shock you. At worst I'll take the hit and get more pretty marks."

"No, you did not tell me this was a secret. I did not keep this secret," Valentina hissed her upset, eyes wide.

"Who did you tell?"

"I told Bea," Valentina practically whimpered the words, twisting the handle of the needle back and forth in her fingers anxiously

"Bea's gonna tell everyone," Agustín cursed, pouring himself a drink and absently filling Félix's cup as well. "You might want to hurry. Really hurry."

Bea was the least Agustín like of the Rojas siblings in Félix's mind. She wasn't tall and slim like Agustín and Valentina were, no glasses or awkward jokes and strange obsessions with weird historical things that were ancient even to the oldest Encanto resident.

Which meant while she hero worshiped the Madrigal sisters the same as Valentina and most of the rest of the younger girls in town, she didn't get tongue tied or trip on her words around them.

Bea enjoyed speaking with them, trying to engage them in any topics of interest for as long as they felt like talking.

Bea who now knew a fun fact that Pepa did not, and would absolutely be bringing up what was going on at her home the first moment she laid eyes on either sister.

Mierda...

"Why does it feel like you're hitting me harder now?" Félix complained, trying hard not to roll to the side while he downed his drink.

"Because I am! I'm gonna get my ass beat by the weather goddess of Encanto, and as an artist I refuse to leave my last piece unfinished to be mangled by someone worse at it than me later."

"So you have to hit me harder for that?"

"Yes!"

--

"Roll one more time--" Valentina cursed trying to get Félix to lay still so she could finish the last lines she had to cover. Each time Agustín would talk and make Félix laugh, the man would go to move to look at his friend, and each time he'd roll away, ruining her layout and making her have to realign everything.

Her words and frustration were seemingly mimicked in the crack of thunder that shook the house.

"Ooh Zeus has heard about Prometheus's attempts." Agustín looked gleeful as he had handing Félix his very first shot of the day.

"Prometheus is right. Stuck between someone eternally murdering me and someone who could bring me back to do it again," Valentina shoved Félix back into place again, pointing her finger in his face, "Stay still."

"I'm fine. It's fine. We're fine. Mi amor adores me, she'll adore this," Félix gestured to his tattoo with a clumsy hand, almost smacking Valentina's as she knocked his aside again.

"Or we all fry and we find out what electricity can do to my needles."

--

"Maldita sea!" Valentina leaned up and forced Félix to lay back down again, hand grabbing his jaw to make him look at her, "If you roll and move around like a drunk idiot my needle goes outside the lines. The lines that are already on you that your wife put there. If I go outside the lines she put there they become my lines, not hers, and you're being marked by a different woman. Stay still."

"Completely still," Félix agreed with a wince, nodding earnestly. Pepa would love her marks on him, she might not approve of a freestyle tattoo or a tattoo of absolutely anything else. Maybe he could get one of her though, one day. Use one of Agustín's sketches to get it done on his body.

That'd be great, a tattoo of his wife.

She was so pretty.

She was so very pretty, in Félix's mind, even as the door to the Rojas' house flung open and she quite literally stormed in.

"Mi amor!"

"Félix!" Came the yell of two different women, one with a hand on his collarbone shoving him back down onto a table roughly, the other staring at him in absolute shock.

"You're so pretty," He grinned, then patted Valentina's hand when she held him still, "Not you. You're angry and look like my best friend grew his hair long but her, she's pretty. Look at her. She's so pretty."

"Keep it up, I got other colors and you got plenty of skin."

"You idiot." Pepa's voice was loud, seemingly directed at everyone in the room.

Félix flung his arms out, nearly knocking into Valentina who cursed at him, "An idiot in love."

"An idiot. What are you doing to yourself?"

"Marking myself as yours," His tone was nothing but cheer as he gestured to his chest where Valentina had almost finished the last of the lines.

"I thought that's what the wedding ring was for?" Agustín seemed to realize his mistake in speaking instead of remaining invisible in the corner of the room when Pepa shot him a look. "What? Isn't it?"

"This is all your idea, I can feel it," Pepa scowled at Agustín who didn't flinch back but did offer her the tequila bottle with a grin.

"What makes it my fault? It's his skin."

"Uh huh, you're dragging people into embarrassment along with you and your bad choices."

"Speaking of," Valentina cleared her throat, focusing overly on the marks she was leaving, "I want it noted that these two did not tell me that you didn't know about this until we were already over halfway done and if I had stopped he would have had to have someone else finish my work and that would have looked stupid and ill done. If I had known I was tattooing someone who's wife could wipe the entirety of our town off the map – if Encanto ever made it to a map – without trying I absolutely would have refused to do it because I respect and fear you far too much."

Félix blinked at Valentina, "That was a lot of words for 'I'm a coward'."

"I will switch to green," Valentina threatened, pointing at him with her needle, "You want green lightning marks instead of red?"

"Lightning marks?" Pepa questioned, inching closer to look down at her husband and the ink now staining his skin.

"What'd you think it was?" Félix almost scoffed.

"Don't make her madder than she already is," Valentina hissed at him quietly.

"She's not mad," Félix beamed up at his wife, holding his opposite hand out to her so Valentina wouldn't scold him for moving again. Sure it was sprinkling rain around them now, a bit cold as it landed on his bare skin, but it was just that a sprinkle. "If she was mad there'd be thunder," he explained when Pepa squeezed his hand lightly, "and bright lights. Sprinkling is kinda upset or so happy she's gonna cry."

"Why is there so much red?" Pepa asked in lieu of answering him, glancing over the towels Valentina had been using to clean his skin.

"Ink. Not blood, it's ink I swear. I mean some of it is blood but not that much of it, it's just dye that's all. Red shows up really well on darker skin and he wanted them to show up for a longer time so we used red and-- it's just ink." Valentina offered with the quickness of someone facing an execution.

"Why my lightning? Why- why those marks?" The rain was sprinkling down against his skin but he didn't mind, watching her eyes trace the marks Valentina was shielding from the water.

"You get to keep yours, yours never go away. Maybe I don't want mine to go away either."

"He's a hopeless romantic," Agustín interrupted quite happily, voice muffled slightly by the shot glass he tipped back, "Or something like that."

"Valentina, cariño, do you have something bright enough to mark your brother with a last name too?" Pepa asked Valentina with a dangerous air to her tone, her clouds briefly darkening before they lightened up again. "And enough space left?"

"Oh his whole body's fair game after enough drinks and I got plenty of bright colors."

Left foot.

Right foot.

Left foot-- oooh tiles swaying.

Were the tiles swaying? Was that the tequila or Casita having fun with him.

Right foot-- tiles moving, yep Casita.

Félix could walk perfectly fine by himself or so he had argued and lost. Sure he'd drank just a little bit more than he normally would but it wasn't a gigantic amount.

Agustín had split the tequila with him, hadn't he?

Agustín who they'd left in the very capable hands of his sister when Pepa decided to help him home herself.

Left foot.

Right foot-- ooh steps. Steps meant bed.

Félix collapsed backwards onto the bed he shared with his wife, sighing and refusing to move as he stared up through the skylight at the sunset starting to stretch across the sky.

The sunset was pretty but not as pretty as his wife.

His pretty wife who dressed herself in all the colors of a sunset and smiled brighter than the sun itself, even if she was currently sprinkling a little again.

"Why lightning?"

Félix forced his brain to focus on the moment, leaning up on his elbows to look at Pepa, "It's yours."

"I know it's mine. Why keep a mark of, of," she gestured helplessly looking for a word, "Violence."

"It's not violence," Félix protested, "It's love!"

"It's marks of where I got so upset or mad that I lost control of my gift, that's not love," Pepa disagreed.

"A gift I adore and love as much as I adore and love you. They're your marks, I'm keeping them." Félix covered the marks over his ribs with his hand protectively as if she could take them away despite Valentina's efforts.

"Félix-"

"Nope. Nope, they are from your gift, your gift is amazing, you are amazing. You are amazing and brilliant and beautiful and smart and," Félix shook his head, trying to regain his train of thought, "So, so pretty."

Pepa rolled her eyes, brushing his hand aside so she could examine the tattoo now covering his skin with interest letting her fingertips trail over the bright red ink, "You're drunk."

"You're still pretty," Félix cleared his throat, "And maybe, just maybe, I like being marked by you."

Pepa scoffed, "Is this a 'I staked my claim' attempt then?"

"Maybe," Félix's attempt to be coy probably didn't work so well after half a bottle of tequila. "Your marks, I'm keeping them."

"Don't expect me to get your mark on me," Pepa pressed a kiss to the marks on his chest and laid down next to him for a moment, her head on her shoulder.

"Why not?" Félix brightened, "You could get my name."

"Yes, and follow after my future brother-in-law's stupidity. That would involve Valentina tattooing me somewhere under clothing, you know.

"Yeah! Valentina probably wouldn't mind tattooing you."

"Oh I'm sure she wouldn't," Pepa sounded amused by that but Félix's mind couldn't quite put together why, "But stil l no."

"She said she'd do my arm next time," Félix beamed, "maybe I can get my entire body covered. You'd have to shock my entire body though. I bet we could do that! I bet-"

"Félix, be glad I love you, and go to sleep.”