Okay so someone (moi) went skating today and I just…. couldn’t stop thinking of Snowbaz??? So here’s some headcanons that /might/ get turned into an actual fic idk anymore XDD
So /technically/ they don’t really know each other bc school is a big place and ye
So Simon has a job at the local skate rink as one of those ppl that u know kinda just skate around the rink and help the ppl who fell get up
So ye here u are with Simon Snow with his golden curls and beat up pair of roller skates and ye
And one day Baz’s step mum forces him to take his sisters skating
Oh boy oh boy oh boy
So those little butts they force Baz to rent a pair of skates with them (cuz they “can't” skate)
So y’know Baz laces up the kids skates and then his skates and stands up
At first it seems like he’ll be fine
And the chiddlers go and skate no problem
Baz doesn’t get two feet without falling
But freaking Mordelia is like “C’monnnnn Bazzzzz.”
So shakily Baz gets onto the skate rink and he’s like uber embarrassed bc what the frick Mordelia you can skate perfectly fine by urself why couldn’t I just stand on the side and laugh at the ppl falling instead of being the person falling?
So I mean he almost falls a lot but it’s okay cuz he’s hugging the wall and it’s keeping him on his feet (but he is forced to skate in shame as kids that are like 5 years old zoom past him)
And then he gets to that part all skate rinks have that have no bars u know those places
For a second he thinks he has it and gets rlly excited for a sec (that dork)
And then he falls on his face
(As he puts it, his life flashed before his eyes)
Then Simon frickin Snow that graceful dorkface comes in swiftly and reaches a hand down to Baz
“Are you okay, Sir?”
Baz tries to get up but when he looks up at Simon he practically falls again cuz what the frick nobody has the right to be that hot
(Simon is literally thinking the exact same thing and it’s a miracle he isn’t looking like a tomato rn)
“Fine,” Baz grumbles as he gets to his feet
And to his embarrassment, he slips again, right into Simon Snow’s arms
So Baz is like super embarrassed and flustered and it’s a mess
And Simon is like squealing on the inside bc WHAT THE FRICK OH MY GODDDDDD but he keeps his cool bc he’s Simon idk
Anyway Baz skates away basically dying
But like the whole night Baz keeps falling and Simon keeps skating to him laughing and saying “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”
Baz denies every time
Soon the night comes to an end
And both Baz and Simon are a little sadder than they’d like to admit
(Those dorks. They crushin)
The next week
Oh my gods Baz takes his sisters again
He doesn’t admit it but he wants to see Simon again
So the same thing happens as before
But at the end of the night Simon asks, “What’s ur name?”
THEN MY GODS OKAY WOW
So it kinda happens every week
They look forward to it
Simon ends up telling Penny about him
“Oh my god Penny he’s so pretty.”
“Did you see his eyes? Aren’t they amazing?”
“Pennnyyyyyyyyyy I’m not done with my storyyyyyy.”
Then one day he calls her at like 1 in the morning
“What is it now Simon? It’s 1am can’t I sleep?”
“Penny I….” Simon bites his lip
“What is it Simon?”
“How did you know you loved Micah?”
“Wha–is this about Agatha again?”
“I–what? No I’m just… curious.”
Penny takes a deep breath
“It’s when all you can think about it is them. It’s when you look forward to see them everyday and you miss them with every part of your soul.”
“I think I like Baz.”
Okay so cut to the next week
Simon sees Baz with his sisters and skates over to him
He’s like rlly nervous
But he goes up to Baz
“Hey um Baz?” Simon says. Baz turns around and to his surprise sees Simon
“Um… do you want to skate with me?”
They skate together
And it’s sorta killing Simon cuz BAZ IS SO SLOW
But his heart is racing like oh my god oh my god ohmygod
He’s rlly pink and Baz is wondering what the frick is going on
Like what the hell Simon?
Baz is too lost in thought that he doesn’t see some kid skate in front of him until he almost crashes into them and he doesn’t but he falls
“Baz are you alright?”
Simon holds out a hand
For the first time, Baz takes it
Electricity shocks through both of their arms
Baz stands up
Both of their hands are still linked
And then Penny that little devil who is in charge of the music changes the song in the middle of another song and plays “Can You Feel The Love Tonight”
Simon is so red and like god damnit Penny you had one job
But Baz is looking at him in a way that… he rlly likes
And suddenly they find themselves drifting closer together
(Or Baz is sliding that’s also a possibility)
And then my gods Simon is pretty much like “whatever” and kisses Baz
Baz’s head: FJDJBWKSHBWKHSHW
Simon’s head: KEHAKSGWHWNKFKENWHWN
basically both of them are dying but they like love it a lot omgs
And then the moment is ruined as Baz slips and both of them crash to the floor
simon gets his sandwiches and snowbaz goes stargazing
a/n: thank you to @bazwearsjeans for the beta!! and to @andonewillbringhisfall for organizing the leavers ball!! (sorry this is late lol) from now until july 31st i will be posting every wednesday so track the tag #egfics to see new fics ^__^
Baz finally got us some sandwiches. Well, he got me some sandwiches. He’d sat and talked with Cook Pritchard while I’d scarfed down about four. I suspect he didn’t want to eat in front of her; I understand all of that now. I understand Baz now. Well, as much as he’ll let me. Which is more than he used to, really. It helps that I pay attention; that I think about him. Not that I didn’t think about him before, I just think differently now. About him. About us.
Once Baz had decided I’d eaten enough, he’d bid Cook Pritchard good night and all but dragged me out the door and onto the Great Lawn. Which is where we are now. The Great Lawn. Stretched out under the stars, lying side by side. I can feel my wings digging into my back, but I barely notice as Baz takes my hand and rests it over his heart. I can feel it thumping steadily under my hand, a familiar feeling. Whenever we’ve shared a bed–which isn’t often–I like to sleep with my ear to his chest. He laughs at me for it, but it’s soothing. He’s soothing. It’s strange to think that.
My hand is rising and falling as with every breath Baz takes, and I feel it hitch when I start to move my hand. Just slowly–down and up–barely reaching his stomach. When my fingers finally brush across his ab muscles, they’re tense, like he’s preparing for an attack. “Someone could walk out,” he whispers, and I laugh.
“Haven’t I established that I don’t care?”
Baz just shakes his head and smiles indulgently. His smile grows wider when I roll over until I’ve nearly got him pinned underneath me. Baz’s hair is slicked back, but a piece has fallen out. It makes me want to free all the strands, so I do. He grunts in surprise as I slide my fingers through his silky hair, loving the way it feels in my hands. I tug gently, and Baz’s eyes widen. I do it, and grin when he groans.
“Snow,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “what are you doing?” Instead of answering, he ducks his head down and slams his mouth into mine. It’s just as much of an assault as before, but I’m used to it by now. I’m not used to this side of Snow, though. Tonight he’s clingy, all roving hands and cheeky smiles. I’m not sure what’s changed, but I’m bloody well not going to question it, now am I?
Snow lets go of my hair and brushes his fingers past my neck. They’re warm, as usual, and the difference in temperature makes me gasp. He takes advantage of my open mouth, shoving his tongue into my mouth and catching me by surprise. (Good surprise. Always a good surprise.) He tastes a bit like roast beef, and instead of being a turn off, it just makes my mouth water. I’m so hungry.
I put my hands on Snow’s chest and shove, hard. Instead of rolling off me, he just sits up on his knees, towering above me with a knee on either side of my thighs. I can barely see him in the moonlight, but his hair is tousled and his lips look kiss-swollen. He’s panting heavily and I want nothing more than to grab him by the collar and pull him back down to me, except I’m afraid.
“What the hell, Baz?” Simon asks, trying to catch his breath. “Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to admit I’m afraid of hurting him. I try to subtly run my tongue along my teeth, hoping Simon won’t notice. That would be even more of a buzzkill. I don’t feel my fangs, I don’t even feel them beginning to pop out, and now I feel a bit silly. How Simon notices my faint flush in the dark, I have no idea, but he reaches out and strokes my cheek softly.
“You aren’t going to hurt me.” He sounds so certain that I almost want to believe him. Maybe I do believe him.
“Snow…” I say. “Simon…” But I don’t get to finish, because his lips are on mine and somehow his hands have made it to the collar of my shirt. His fingers linger at the top button.
“Is this okay?” I nod. Normally I would chastise him for getting my suit dirty, but it’s like something strange has come over me. Simon revealing his insecurities broke open something inside of me, something soft and delicate that I don’t recognise. Something that apparently wants my boyfriend to undress me right here on the Great Lawn.
As if reading my mind, Simon snorts. “I don’t want to get you starkers. Just–” He unbuttons the top two buttons and drops his head, kissing, and sucking at my neck until it feels like I’m melting. One of his hands slips back into my hair, and the other one starts to sneak down my chest until his fingers begin to creep under the hem of my shirt.
Crowley, is this what dying feels like? Every nerve in my body is on fire; Snow is attacking from all sides and I’m completely helpless under him. I’m convinced this is all I can bear when he starts grinding against my thigh. My hips jolt, nearly throwing him off of me, and then everything stops. The hands. The kissing. The grinding.
I groan. “Why did you stop?”
“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, sounding nervous.
“Merlin, yes,” I exhale. Simon still looks nervous, and his eyes keep darting in the direction of the ball. The one that’ll be ending soon. Oh. Oh. “We don’t have to keep going,” I say, trying to hide the regret in my words. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“Don’t be daft. Of course I want to keep going…just…shouldn’t we be getting back? Won’t people be wondering where we are?”
“No,” I say, thinking of my bed back in our old room; of all my old fantasies. Of pressing Simon into the mattress. “No, I have a better Idea.”
Baz’s voice promises something exciting, and the hand on my waist keeps dipping lower and lower. It brushes my arse, and I stiffen, but he’s only reaching for my tail. “So you don’t trip,” he murmurs, smooth as silk. Bullshit, I want to say back, but I’m too intrigued to argue. I let him guide me across the lawn, trying to hide how nervous I am. Where is he taking me? I must seem worried, because he stops walking.
Or maybe it’s because we’re here. In front of Mummer’s House. “Baz?” I ask, and he smirks at me. It starts to falter when I don’t answer back, and his hand drops from my back.
“We don’t have to,” he says apologetically, “I just thought…”
“I know,” I say, reaching for him, grabbing his upper arms and stroking them soothingly. “I know,” I repeat, “and it’s okay. I want to.”
He looks up at this, squints as he studies my face to gauge whether I’m serious. I am. I hadn’t thought I’d want to go back to our old room, but now that I’m here, it sounds perfect. I let my arms drop as I wait for his answer.
“Okay,” Baz says, sounding relieved. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go then.” He smiles as I take his outstretched hand, and we climb the stairs. Together, for the first time ever.
hey hey hey jimon + one of them being delirious and confessing their love (is this even a trope??? idk love u tho)
“Simon, what the hell
were you thinking?” Jace groaned, trying to drag a half-conscious Simon across
the docks. He had an arm wrapped around Simon’s waist, and Simon’s arm slung
over his shoulder. His head was snuggled into the crook of Jace’s neck, because
Simon claimed it was warmer there, even though Simon is a vampire and can’t
feel cold. Jace wouldn’t admit it, but Simon’s breath on his neck felt way too good.
See, Simon had thought it would be a good idea to visit the
Hunter’s Moon and throw back about 10 plasma shots, and he was fucked. Jace had been woken up at three
in the damn morning with a call from a giggling Maia, telling him “come get
your boyfriend, Herondale, he’s plastered” paired with yells from Simon in the
background. And before Jace had the time that Simon was not his boyfriend (much to Jace’s dismay), Maia had hung up. That’s
how Jace found himself trying to practically carry a drunk Simon home at 4 A.M.
Jace was going to have words with
Maia about this.
“I was sad,” Simon hiccupped, using his free hand to grab
the front of Jace’s shirt. “Don’t be mad. Hey, that rhymes! I could make that
into a song! Wow, I’m the best
Jace rolled his eyes, trying his best to fiddle with the
lock on the boat shed while Simon squirmed in his arms. “Why were you sad,
Simon?” Jace inquired, trying to distract him from moving so he could shove the
The door groaned as Jace slid it open and carried Simon inside, not worried about
closing it until he had set Simon down.
“I’m sad,” Simon repeated dramatically as Jace set him on a
wooden bench along the wall, propping him up so he wouldn’t fall over. “Because
I am in love.”
Upload has come around and once again you will be attending with all your fellow you tubers and boyfriend Simon. Now you and simon had been together since you were roughly 20 and were still going strong. You loved this boy, you loved how he would giggle childishly after saying a silly joke, mindlessly trace shapes on your waist when your tucked up in bed, how he would pause the tv every 5 mins to complain about a mistake he had seen, this was the boy you wanted to marry, the boy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. I mean the others already say that you’re engaged not because you’ve been together for 5 years but because he had given you a ring for your 23rd, it was a dainty gold ring with a crystal which he had found at the beach where you had your first kiss.
You were quite nervous for upload, i mean it brings back awkward memories of when fans caught you and simon making out and i guess thats how our relationship was revealed.
Everyone was in the car on the way to tobacco dock, listening to old music and laughing at josh’s singing. Simon, you and Jj were all in the back, you were holding Simons hand and couldn’t help but notice it was shaking slightly. You shot his a reassuring look and snuggled closer to him in a attempt to calm his nerves which you suspected were just for the anticipation of meeting all his fans.
The event had been going for a few hours now, you had done your meet and greet and were just walking around with Gee trying to get too the panel stage where you were doing a panel with all the sidemen minus harry, since there was no harry the boys had asked you to fill in with freya so you weren’t the only girl.
Once you’d reached backstage you walked over to Simon and Vik, you noticed Simon was still looking very nervous.
“you alright si?” you ask the tall blonde stroking his arm.
“what? yeah course, just talking in front of people still gets to me i guess..” he shrugged.
Then they announced your names and you all took you places at the table, time passed the crowd asked pretty much all quite generic questions such as ‘how did you start youtube’ ‘when was the sidemen formed’ and ‘is emon real’ - those type of questions.
Before the panel ended they boys quietened everyone down and Jj spoke into his mic,
“guys, we’ve got something wed like to show you so if you’d all just watch the screen behind us that’d be great” he sniggered.
Suddenly the screen was playing a montage of all your moments with each of the boys, funny moments from all our videos together; it was really sweet and i could feel happy tears brimming in my eyes but i was really confused why they had done this, when they turned the video off i turned around ready to ask simon what the hell was that but instead i was met with simon down on one knee, the crowed all start cooing, and i clamp i hand over my mouth as a tear drops down my cheek.
“y/n l/n will you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife?” he asks biting his lip. Suddenly you pull him into a massive hug with a smile stamped across your face.
“so i take that as a yes?” he giggled,
“omg sorry, yes of course i will marry you!” you respond hugging him tightly, the crowd start clapping as do the boys and they all stand up for a group hug.
“i love you y/n” he whispers into your ear, still surrounded by the other boys,
Here are the works I’ve been saving throughout last year since the show first aired and up until this point. Amazing works that show this wonderful pairing and each characterization. All the love to the authors!
As usual, I couldn’t find some authors’ user names. So, if someone knows the user and tag them, that would be very appreciated
volunteered to help Raphael to try to talk to him, get to know him better.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t working out so well. It turned out that managing a
food drive was a lot harder than Simon had anticipated. And whenever he did try
to engage Raphael, he was met with short one word responses before ordering
Simon with another task.
“You love him.” It
wasn’t a question and Magnus’ voice almost sounded awed by what he said, what
he realized, when he looked at his friend at his side whose head snapped to
look at him, no longer watching his fledgling.
He managed to sit on
the bench for at least ten minutes before his phone was in his hand and he
started browsing Twitter for anything entertaining before updating his account
with a Clary abandoned me in the art
museum once again message
with a sad emoji before he decided to take a silly selfie for Instagram to kill
some more time. Just when he took the photo and the camera sound went off - of
course, he forgot to mute his damn phone when he went into the museum, fuck - a shadow fell on his form.
“Did I ever tell you that we feel
everything? The clan, I mean. If I focus enough, I can tell you who’s sad and
who’s angry and who hasn’t been sleeping properly. I can tell you who’s been
having nightmares. There are no secrets here.”
“You know that moment,”
he said “when you wake up and turn over to put your arms around someone
–someone you love, someone who means everything to you.”
Magnus’ expressive eyes were soft, soft, soft.
“I feel so alone,” Simon whispered. “Not in the
post-Clary sort of way, either. In the way that I’m supposed to wake up to
someone and they’re not there.”
“I’m missing something,” Simon went on, voice
cracking. “I’m missing someone but no matter how hard I try I just can’t
“I… I’m sorry. You just looked like the
typ of person who drinks their coffee black.“ Simon stutters and rubs his neck,
trying to hide the shaking of his hands. “What do you want then?“
The guy actually smirks at him and lets
his eyes wander over Simon for a moment, before he answers.
“What I want from you would be really
inappropriate to say out loud in here…“ he trails of for a moment, letting the
words sink in and then smirks even wider when Simon flushes bright red in the
matter of seconds.
“But for the coffee, I would like a caramel macchiato.“
The one where everybody thinks that
Simon has a sweet tooth and Raphael loves the bitter stuff, but it’s actually
How do you stop loving
someone? How do you separate your world from theirs, when you’ve been on a
collision course since you were six and sharing crayons, your smiles so
intertwined that death doesn’t separate you? How do you say goodbye?
You don’t, Simon thinks dizzily, dropping to his knees in front
of Raphael. You say hello to someone else.
Honestly, no matter which way you put
it, telling anyone you live in a hotel is pretty fucking weird, and it’s not
like Raphael has the excuse of a twin brother or a singer mother who works
there or the wacky hijinks that ensue.
Or: a brief look at Raphael in a world
where Shadowhunters no longer need to exist.
“You’re not planning on giving him
a plain black shirt for a few hundred bucks, right?” Raphael asked when
his best friend was about to enter one of the fancier clothing stores the mall
had to offer and the other raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not planning on buying him a
black shirt at all.”
“All he ever wears is black. The
most colourful your boy gets is wearing grey,” he commented dryly and his
lips curled into a smirk when Magnus huffed, unable to disagree because Alec
really didn’t wear any other colours. If black and grey could even be
considered a colour.
“Well, that’s why I brought you
because you always wear clothes as dark as your soul and might actually be
helpful in this case,” Magnus replied sweetly and glanced at the store
before looking back at his shorter friend questioningly.
Simon’s eyes land on
his good looking guy at the table next to him and when he and his table partner
start talking in Spanish Simon find this as the perfect opportunity to test out
his Spanish knowledge.
“Simon! Dios mío, what
Simon dropped the fire extinguisher, a sheepish
look on his face. The stove behind him covered in smoke and fire extinguisher
gas. “Uh, I was just, uh, trying to make dinner?”
Sure, Simon wasn’t a great cook, but he
certainly wouldn’t consider himself a horrible cook, Raphael’s kitchen was
just… very different from what Simon was used to using. Raphael was a
professional and so was his kitchen.
That’s what everyone said about
them.Raphael Santiago was a fire and, Simon Lewis was the gasoline that only
further fueled the other.
“I’m in love with you.” he came out as barely a whisper.If Simon didn’t have
vampire enhanced hearing, he might’ve not heard that.
Raphael sat on the
living room chair, the cup of tea Magnus had practically forced on him balanced
on his knee, while Magnus himself was slouched on the sofa, laughing. “You,”
he wheezed in between hysterical fits of giggles, “are going to propose? ToSimon?”
Raphael pursed his lips, praying for strength from anyone.
Simon Lewis is a
Hufflepuff that seriously needs to pay more attention around him. Especially
the part where he thinks that his best friend, Hufflepuff seeker Clary
Fairchild is secretly dating his Slytherin chaser crush, Raphael Santiago.
It’s not gay, it’s not gay, I’m totally
not checking him out, he just had that stain on his right trouser leg….
Raphael is, apparently, a rich as fuck
vampire, because the suit shop they go in is fancy as hell. They park in the
basement, because, uh, sunlight, and even though dusk has fallen it’s better to
be safe than sorry (sorry meaning dead). Raphael keeps smirking, which does
nothing to help Simon’s inner mantra that consists of
I’m straight, I’m straight holy fuck is
he licking his lip- I’m straight..
“This,” the vampire announces as they
walk into the shop, smiling faintly, looking, almost for the first time since
Simon’s met him, as if he’s relaxed, “is the greatest place in the world, Simon
He looks at him then, grinning, eyes
dark, shining, looking more polished than ever but somehow oddly vulnerable,
and Simon’s breath hitches, his insides turning to goo.
His mantra becomes
Let me not jump him, or, at least, not
Clary took a sip from her coffee before
putting it back down, her face slipping from confused to serious. “Simon. Are
you serious? You didn’t know?”
Simon sputtered, his fancy pastry that
cost him a pretty penny of 5.78$ flying everywhere from his mouth. Of course, the one time he decides
to spend money it gets wasted. “Clary. Oh my god. Clary, I’m dating
Based Off This Prompt:
Saphael, College roommates AU who find that they have been totally boyfriends
for months and hadn´t even realized. Brownie points for cuddling!
“Er.” Simon says, but
that seems to be enough.
“The one and only.” He says weakly, making jazz
hands even though he knows Raphael can’t see them. “Heyyy, Raphael.”
“You – why is your number in the Pandemonium
It starts because Jace and Simon get drunk
together one night without Clary, and since Clary serves as about eighty-five
percent of their impulse control they’re hammered within two hours and ready to
implement all of their Very Bad Ideas, the ones that are horrifying enough to
make Alec grind his teeth and potentially slap them upside the head.
Simon comes back to
them immediately. He’s pounding on the door the next night, and Raphael
stiffens as he smells the scent of the fledgling.
“I’ll go get him.” Lily says, and runs off, her
face harsh with anger. She appears a second later, hauling the boy by his
collar. His face is ashen with fear – Simon is no good at hiding his feelings.
What was it he’s said before? He was born afraid? And his eyes are dark and
beautiful, just like always, and Raphael wants to shake him until he
understands what heartbreak feels like.
Of course Simon comes back, and of course
Raphael is still unbearably in love with him.
“Thank you, Raphael, really. This is
truly the touching reunion I had imagined for us,” Simon says, ignoring the
fact that he’d imagined several possibilities but all of them had ended in
Raphael ripping him to pieces.
Once, hidden in the dark and
uncharacteristically intimate for both of them, Raphael had mimicked Simon’s
movement in bed, inch by inch, like a game. Simon burst out laughing, pulling
an outlandish face, and gripped Raphael’s chin. Raphael reached out and pinched
his chin in return.
They lifted each other’s faces, moving
it left and right, leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. They let go
and traced a finger slowly from their collarbone to their belly button.
Like a challenge, they held each other’s
eyes, all traces of humor gone.
For a little while, Simon and Raphael
felt as if they were mirrors of some kind. Opposite, but the same.
Soon after, though Simon hadn’t made the
connection, the first flicker of blue had appeared.
Soulmate AU where you slowly start
seeing color. Let the angst begin!
The feeling began to become home. More
of a home than vampirism would ever be. He’d stand alone, attempt God, and feel the pain. This is how it is,
this is what I deserve, this is what I have become. I am this now. I will
always be this. I deserve to hurt—
Until the day that God finally left his lips and remained in
his throat, no choking, no burning. Just Raphael and God, severed.
Simon, on the other hand…
"Raphael,” he whispers,
“I’m so sorry. I thought—”
Raphael feels a twist in his stomach. It
is a feeling that he hasn’t experienced in a very long time. He needs to lead
the clan, he needs to give them justice, but he’s alone with Simon, most secure
room in the Hotel DuMort like a past life, and all that he can feel is want, hunger,
is no room for justice in human want. It’s sick. Raphael is very, very sick;
this is the only explanation for the humanness, the only explanation for the
“Do it again,” Raphael says,
his entire being turning into a betrayal right against Simon’s body. “I
When Simon has to
transfer to another school - the DuMort Academy -, the only thing that could
save him from going mad would be to join the school’s Glee club. Of course,
life is not as easy as it could be, and he is denied to join just yet. He
somehow manages to persuade the club’s leader, Raphael, to prepare him so he
can join in the next semester.
Simon greeted the animal and reached out, gently scratching behind the dog’s
ear. Ezekiel tilted his head, playfully nudging the man’s lower arm and stared
up at him in clear anticipation. He huffed out a soft laugh and reached into
the pocket of his light jacket, presenting the dog with a thin postcard with
the message “Mail for Ezekiel” with two hearts scrawled next to it
and beneath it he had written “have a dog-tastic day”. Ezekiel seemed
pleased as usual and ran off with his delivery while the off-duty-postman
turned around to leave.
“What do you think you’re doing, idiota?” Raphael asked wearily and
frowned at the other’s surprised yelp, followed by a pained sound when Simon
dropped the heavy book right on his sock-clad foot. He quickly picked the book
up again before directing his wide-eyed gaze at the clan leader who stared back
at him with the most unimpressed expression possible.
“You’re back already?”
expression was a mix of disinterest and boredom but his gaze swept over the
things strewn across the room in a silent order to answer his question instead
of stating the obvious.
“It’s not fake concern. I…I know
I’ve been preoccupied with my own problems and that I didn’t…that I didn’t
think much of the consequences or of…of the position you’re in,” Simon
mumbled sheepishly, hands pushed into the pockets of his hoodie and head
lowered while trying to keep up with Raphael’s quick steps. It was actually
pretty difficult to stick close to the clan leader despite the vampire speed
because Simon still wasn’t fully used to it and he could more quickly but not
as smoothly and effortlessly looking as Raphael.
“The position you put
me in,” Raphael bit out, correcting Simon’s statement with a bitterness
that seemed to cut right through the slightly foggy air.
Raphael was extremely
confused. Extremely. He didn’t understand this. He had never felt this before,
and yet here he was, feeling it and he didn’t know where it was coming from.
But it was here and now he had to deal with the fact that he was apparently homophobic
because the sight of seeing his roommate kissing another boy made him want to
“You’re my roommate who’s super cute and
it’s the middle of the night and you’re cramming for your exams in your flannel
pajamas and disheveled hair and it’s becoming increasingly hard for me not to
kiss you” AU.
Obviously Simon had
missed the memo about his sexual orientation, but he can’t help thinking there
might have been smarter ways to find out than by letting himself be seduced by
someone who sort of scares the shit out of him.
Simon walks into the
Starbucks in only a thin shirt, because he’s an idiot and forgot to take his
jacket with him in the middle of november, and opens his mouth to greet his
friends, but they are not there.
Instead there’s another dude standing behind the
counter, his green apron doing nothing to hide his beautiful body and sadly
neither his grumpy expression.
Simon wilts under the pressure, but
needing to have the last word he replies sarcastically, “Sure thing Dad”.
Raphael’s eyes widen “What did you just
call me?” Simon looks up at him, placing the now empty glass back on the table
in front of him as he licks fresh blood off his lips, “Dad, y’know, Daddy, cos
like you’re making me –“
Raphael waves his hands in front of
Simon “Please stop” he looks around uncomfortably before speeding away.
I saw a prompt on
tumblr : I usually talk to my friends through sign language in class but…
apparently you know sign language too… and now you know I think your butt is
cute.Simon secretly loves Professor Raphael’s butt and accidentally spills his
secret to the professor himself!
Part of him was hoping that he would
never have to see Simon again; you
rip the bandage off fast so it’s less painful, you stitch up the wound quick so
it’s less painful, you let it heal slowly. These things take time.
But - who was he kidding, he’s going to
be entwined with Simon until the end of time, it seems. Quite literally.
His dark hair stuck against his forehead
in wet, messy curls and every annoyed huff showed in form of a little white
cloud leaving his lips and disappearing into the sky. He was a supernatural
being but it was obviously too much to ask for some kind of immunity against
the temperatures. Sure, he had to appear human but that didn’t mean he
basically had to be human.
“Just find the target, make the guy
fall in love with the girl and the freezing is over,” Raphael mumbled to
himself through chattering teeth and pushed his hands deeper into the pockets
of his hoody. At least he couldn’t get sick but this didn’t make the weather
any more comfortable. His whole body seemed to be slowed down and stinging from
the cold, icy wind pulling at the material of his jeans and the hoody he wore
over his t-shirt, his boots kicking up snow with every step.
“You can’t say it back. Why haven’t
you said so earlier? All the other times I said it? I thought you just weren’t
ready yet but if you already know you can't love
me, why not say it outright instead of leading me on?!” Raphael tried to
hide the pain and anger swirling in his chest, masking his emotions with a cold
Magnus had warned him, told him it was a
bad choice to start something with Simon because the guy had almost managed to
two-time and even if he had been 16 at the time, he still seemed so very
undecided when it came to his love life. He clearly couldn’t make up his mind
about what he wanted, not back then and not now. Raphael had known it was a
risk and he had to fight down the urge to place the blame on himself - to
revert back to the thinking that maybe him being asexual and aromantic was the
reason why Simon couldn’t commit to this.
The one person he developed romantic
feelings for, the one person he actually fell in love with, and here they were,
apparently about to break up on Valentine’s Day. It felt like a big, cosmic
joke and Raphael suddenly felt so damn tired.
“I know you’re about to close but
maybe I could get a coffee?” Simon asked and his voice almost broke on a
few words. He squinted a little because of the beads of water on his glasses
that probably blurred his sight but Raphael could see that his dark eyes were
mostly unfocused behind the smudged spectacles.
“You look like you rather need some
tea and a bed,” he commented dryly and rounded the counter to walk up to
the door, flip the sign and then the lock as well. Raphael didn’t care that
they were supposed to be open for 20 more minutes. Nobody came in at this hour
anyway and Simon’s current state was a more pressing matter anyway.
“So, that’s a no? You do realise I
can’t leave when you lock the door, though, right?”
Simon was fidgeting and raised his arm
to hide a cough in the crook of his elbow, the sound muffled by the wet
material of the hoodie he was wearing - not exactly the right choice of
clothing for October if you asked Raphael.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, someone
probably just wanted to lighten the mood,” Lily commented with a shrug and
it might have been a slightly weird thing to do so with almost insulting
messages on pastel coloured candy hearts but most clan members did think they
were funny and a few had actually started a competition about who could find
the most hearts - and the ones with the best messages.
“There’s one with lol no balanced
on top of the picture frame in the main hall. I have no idea how they even got
it up there,” Elliott informed them while strolling into the room and he
stopped behind the couch, right next to Simon’s shoulder who tilted his head
back and blinked up at the other vampire frowning at him.
“You have one stuck in your
hood,” the other informed him and before Simon could react he had already
snatched it up, eyebrows rising when his eyes read the message on the piece of
To Clary: I don’t think
I can do this Clary. Is this even a good idea??
From Clary: Simon you have to do this. For
yourself. Don’t worry, no matter what happens I’m here for you.
To Clary: You’re right, thanks Clary. Omg we
just pulled up outside the club.
From Clary: Go inside and stop freaking out.
To Clary: I’m not freaking out
To Clary: I know your eyebrows are raised. Okay,
yes, I’m freaking out. I miss him and I want him and I don’t know why he
invited me here. It’s been 3months and 16 days Clary. Why now? Why would he
wait so long to contact me for whatever reason? Why was I such an idiot? Oh god
what if it’s just to return something I left at his or what if he tells me he’s
met someone new and he’s moved on.
From Clary: Simon stop. Stop overthinking this
and go inside.
Simon is about to text back to delay entering
PanDEMONium but Clary beats him to it. She knows him too well.
From Clary: You’re going to be fine, just go.
Simon enters PanDEMONium expecting it to be the
usual vibrant, enthralled and booming place but it’s empty apart from a grand
black piano where Raphael sits playing a few notes. Simon knows he does that
when he’s nervous.
What hurts the most, the thing that
makes him really ache, is how familiar he is with Simon. He knows the way that
Simon smells; sickly, because every fledgling smells sickly, but with Simon
it’s all different. Simon smells like – life, like something sick coming back to life. Like hope crawling out of its
He knows the way that Simon sounds; the
unnecessary breaths, the way that his voice mumbles when he talks because he
still hasn’t gotten used to his fangs, the wrong thing in his mouth, and the
way that he taps his fingers, the exact sound that he makes when he wakes up in
the morning. A yawn like a wolf’s howl.
But worst of all, he knows the way that
When daylighter Raphael
Santiago is forced to kill a rogue Warlock, the warlock’s deranged lover curses
him to never have a happy ending. Whoever falls in love with the vampire is
destined to die if they touch him. To Raphael, who has long viewed himself as
unlovable, this seemed like nothing. Of course, he didn’t count on the
persistent idiot known as Simon Lewis.
“Angels touched by man cannot stay
divine, Raphael. I thought I was very clear on that matter.”
And Raphael knows. He knows. But when he
thinks about letting Simon touch him, about his lips pressing down on his,
about his fingers tracing his skin, Raphael does not feel doomed. He does not
Raphael Santiago had always known that
his soulmate would not be anything like what his mother had dreamt for him.
Simon Lewis, on the other hand, had always dreamt of a soulmate that was
nothing like what he got. But are dreams all that important? When real life is
a thing that happens, and that you get to actually live?
This is the second part of a series in
which soulmates are found upon the touch of skin. Each part will have a
different pairing at it’s centre, though all three are linked and together they
form a fuller story.
“Yes,” Simon snaps, “Yes, Clary, my
number is 71. It’s right there,” he waves her wrist around, a little too
aggressively, so it’s actually impossible to read. “The seven and the one. 71.
My soulmate’s going to be 71 when we meet.”
Or, everyone has a number on their wrist
that indicates how old their soulmate will be when they meet. Simon is trying
to deal with the fact that his is abnormally high. It turns out not to be such
a bad thing, after all.
When they had become engaged, it had
been like a switch had flipped with their mothers. They were still very happy
for them and they both were waiting with open arms to welcome the other into
the family. No, the problem was not dislike.
The problem was that for some reason,
the minute a ring came into the picture, both Raphael’s mother and Simon’s
mother somehow immediately and independently became obsessed with their son’s future husband
converting to their religion.
Simon, well, he has the
most unusual / off the beaten path twist of words etched across his ribs that
he’s ever heard of. The font is an elegant black crawl with perfectly dainty
pretty loops and swirls, and it says “Dios, I’m going to eat you if you don’t
Raphael sucks in a
sharp, unnecessary breath, eyes snapping up to meet Simon’s gaze, and he
sounds, for the first time, the way Simon feels; like he’s coming apart at the
seams with no hope of being pulled back together. Simon looks away, wants to
backtrack and erase his temporary moment of weakness, because he’s not allowed
to have that.
It always comes back to this - Simon trying to
run away but being rooted to the spot by everything that lies between them.
There are two ways someone can whisper
into your ear with their lips against your neck.
For one, it can be sweet, gentle, soft,
hot, pleasant. A warmth, the feeling of being loved,
someone taking care of you, kisses, relationships, compliments.
And then there are the times it’s
threatening. A knife against your throat, death so close in front of you, fear.
You feel scared, uncomfortable, want to cry. Screaming, kicking, then staying
still, shaking, hurting, hoping, praying.
Simon unfortunately had to experience
both ways in his rather short period of living.
Raphael hasn’t been
home for the holidays in years. Still being haunted by a tragedy that happened
years ago, he isn’t planning on visiting this year either. Until he gets a very
persuasive email from a very angry man named Simon Lewis.
After a fight with his
current roommate Raphael Santiago is left with moving in with his old friend
Magnus Bane. Naturally, this means lots of headaches for him and weird people
stepping into his life.
They take away the good in Raphael and
reduce him to teeth like talons, a heart of stone. They don’t even have to say
the words when his name comes up - “He’s a monster.”
No, Simon wants to say. You’ve never
witnessed him stripped bare, armor lying at his feet with a softness in his
eyes that makes Simon want to turn away. But they were present when the high
walls around his heart became a weapon. They heard the words “Kill
them” and glossed over what wasn’t being said - ‘Of all the people, why
did it have to be you? I wanted you to stay.’ Nor did they hear the full extent
of Simon’s betrayal, how it cut straight into tendons where it bled the most -
'Is it too late to go back?’
He heard the sound again and it made his
hair stand on end because the creaky wood noise sounded like someone walking
very slowly, dragging their feet with every step and it was like right out of a
horror movie. Simon suppressed the ridiculous urge to go knock on the door to
his mother’s and sister’s room but he also felt like these sounds were far from
normal and what if ghosts were
real after all?! It
was the middle of the night, he was still tired and his brain did not function
properly - he was allowed to think stupid shit!
Simon couldn’t tell why it seemed like a
good idea to snatch up his key and leave his room but that was exactly what he
did. Not to investigate the creepy sounds, he knew how such things turned out
and he didn’t have a death wish, but to get further away from the noises. The
dimmed lights in the hallway made the old hotel look even eerier and a few
steps away from his door he severely regretted the decision to leave his room.
He turned around to head back, saw a dark silhouette at the other end of the
hallway that definitely moved and…he bolted. No.fucking.way!
Simon Lewis is an
average high school teacher just trying to make sure the future generation gets
there. He never asked to get his room moved next to the one guy in the whole
school who probably hates him the most. That’s all Luke’s fault.
said pushing his Spanish text book away, he leaned back in his hair and watched
as Raphael chewed on the bottom of his pen in concentration.
“Hypothetically” Raphael repeated, propping his
head up on his hand to show that he was listening.
“If I liked someone, but I don’t” Simon hastily
said when Raphael quirked an eyebrow “but if I did and I wanted to know if that
person likes me back, what do I do?”
Magnus had experience with Shadowhunters even before his sudden involvement in the Brooklyn kids, and he’d always known that healing Shadowhunters was the warlock equivalent of attempting surgery on someone who wasn’t sedated.
They could not calm down. For some inexplicable reason it ran in their blood, the need to constantly get up despite broken bones or newly stitched wounds was innate in all of them. Plus, most of their injuries were fixable by their own hands, so those that they needed Magnus’ help with were usually pretty severe and sometimes exhausting to fix.
Jace Wayland was no exception.
“Please lay down, dear, you’re making this harder than it needs to be.” Magnus pleaded, watching the blonde Shadowhunter struggle to sit upright on his sofa.
“You…said…you already got the…poison out.” Jace huffed, wiping a hand across his glistening forehead. “I need to…figure out who…who…”
“I got it out, but you’re still going to feel the effects. You can’t even think straight.” Magnus insisted, putting his hands to Jace’s shoulders and gently easing him down against the plump pillow that he’d brought in from the guest bed. “You need rest. Alec and Izzy are out investigating who poisoned you.”
“They could be attacked.” Jace croaked, finally having caught his breath now that he was resting horizontally. “I should be with them.”
“They are more than capable. That tracking method that Isabelle figured out is really working. They should be able to find whoever did this and take them out.” Magnus assured him. He watched Jace mentally battle himself, trying to figure out what the best option was for himself and his siblings. Finally he seemed to give up, probably knowing that his feverish brain and body wouldn’t cooperate long enough to even get him out the front door.
“Isabelle is so smart.” Jace mumbled. His eyes were glazed over a bit, his vision cast in the direction of the far left wall. His fever was making him a little out of it.
“That she is.” Magnus agreed, casting a cooling spell over Jace’s body. He watched Jace visibly relax, his stiff posture melting away. His fists unclenched. “Good boy. Just relax.”
“What’s that light?” Jace asked, his hand moving up to point vaguely in the direction of the far wall.
“Hmm?” Magnus wasn’t entirely paying attention. He was trying to remember the potion he had for fevers that wouldn’t make Jace any more zoned out than he already was. There was one with werewolf claw, Dravak scales, but did he have enough scales? He would have to check the–
“Magnus what is that?” Jace interrupted his thoughts again, persistently pointing at the wall. Magnus glanced up and felt his heart sink when he saw the gleaming red light on the wall.
“Oh no.” He muttered, standing up.
His far wall was made up of a collection of nearly two-hundred little glass vials. Each vial represented a Downworlder that he cared about, containing a piece of identification that Magnus hexed specifically so that he could keep track of them and how they were doing. They contained fingernail clippings, fur, scales, anything. And when one of his Downworlders wasn’t doing well, their vial lit up red.
He hurried over and pulled the glowing vial off the wall, his heart sinking when he saw the contents: a few wispy strands of brown hair.
“Jace, have you seen Simon recently?” Magnus asked, already pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts. The Shadowhunter looked much more alert now, and he sat up straighter against his pillow.
“Not in a few nights. Why? What’s wrong?”
“He might be in trouble.” Magnus murmured worriedly. He looked over at Jace, whose face was clenched with pain and pressure from sitting upright again. “Lay down, blondie. It’s alright.”
He called Simon, pacing the length of his living room as the phone rang and rang and rang. Voicemail. Magnus pressed the call button again, refusing to give up. Nothing. Panic was beginning to swell in his stomach as he pressed call again.
“Just stay there, Jace.” Magnus said soothingly as he began to conjure a portal with his free hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Is he okay?” Jace asked, sounding alarmed.
“We’ll see.” Magnus murmured, stepping through the portal. He was spit out into the boat house, which he’d only seen once when he’d taken Simon home from India. The place was considerably more spruced up now than it had been, which only served to make Magnus a little sad. He didn’t want Simon to have to make an old boathouse into a home.
He looked around, spotting Simon’s buzzing phone on a pea green chair in the makeshift living room that Simon had made. He moved forward, noticing with horror that Simon was on the floor, curled up behind the chair with a blanket wrapped around his body.
He was shivering noticeably, and there was blood around his mouth. Magnus looked to the side and saw a pool of blood on the ground, presumably where Simon had been sick.
Magnus tentatively put a hand to Simon’s shoulder, and the young vampire flinched.
“It’s just me, Simon.” Magnus whispered. “It’s Magnus.”
“M–Magnus.” Simon all but whimpered. “S’mthing’s wrong.”
“Don’t worry, darling.” Magnus pulled him gently up into a sitting position. He stretched his arms under Simon’s shoulders and knees and carefully lifted him. The fledgling’s skin was hot, hotter than a vampire’s should be. Magnus had no idea what was afflicting him, because it was pretty difficult to make a vampire sick. “We’re going to my place, okay? We’re going through a portal. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Simon clutched at Magnus’ shirt tightly, and the warlock took that as a sign that he was ready. He hurried to the portal and stepped through, aware the entire time of Simon’s state.
Jace had not laid back down, and when he saw Simon he attempted to stand up entirely.
“Is he okay? What the hell happened?” Jace prodded. He had to lean heavily against the arm of the couch to keep himself steady, and Magnus had to stop to think. He needed access to his potions, which were already set out on the coffee table. Both boys should be laying down, but Simon needed it more.
“Jace, sit.” He instructed, pointing at the armchair adjacent from the sofa. He eased Simon down to the now vacated sofa, untangling the blanket from his body and laying it neatly over him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jace pressed.
“I don’t know yet.” Magnus murmured, praying to God that Jace would just shut up and let him sort things out. He put a hand to Simon’s cheek, trying to get the boy to stir. “Simon? Come on, sunshine, wake up.”
His eyelids flickered open and struggle to stay that way. Magnus pressed a palm to Simon’s forehead and winced, trying to piece everything together in his head. Vampires only ran fevers when they were injured or poisoned by tainted blood. He didn’t see any outward injuries on Simon, and he was pretty sure Simon knew better than to just drink any blood he found.
“Simon, where did you get the last blood you drank?” Magnus asked, shaking his shoulder slightly to make him more alert.
“Raphael.” Simon rasped.
Simon and Raphael were on better terms now, having talked everything out and reached a tentative peace treaty. Raphael still wasn’t crazy about Simon, but he was supplying him blood and making sure he was safe. Magnus knew that Raphael would never give Simon, or really any innocent vampire, poisoned blood. So what was it?
“What hurts?” Magnus asked, resorting to his go-to question when he wasn’t sure what was wrong.
“Everything.” Simon croaked weakly. He was curled up into a tight ball, a hand pressed flat to his midsection. “It’s like a burning–everywhere. Happened really suddenly.”
“Sounds like what happened with me.” Jace remarked softly, and Magnus looked up to meet his gaze. He was right. The symptoms, the fever, the pain. It was all the exact same situation that he’d been in an hour earlier with Jace.
“Simon,” Magnus put a hand to his face again and forced him awake. “Did anyone have access to your blood? Anyone except Raphael? Or did anyone you didn’t know get anywhere near you in the last twenty-four hours?”
“No.” Simon mumbled. “Stayed at the boathouse. All day. Got my blood straight from R–Raphael. I’m cold, Magnus.”
“Here.” Jace tossed the blanket that was draped over the armchair to Magnus, who covered Simon with it. “Magnus, maybe it’s the same thing?”
“It can’t be.” Magnus muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “You were poisoned because someone infiltrated the Institute. Someone is after you, probably someone working for Valentine. They had a plan and they executed it. Why would someone poison Simon? And how would they even know how to find him?”
Jace shook his head, clearly as puzzled as Magnus. He absentmindedly wiped at his forehead, and Magnus noticed the pink tint to his cheeks. He waved his hand to cast another cooling spell, the first one clearly having worn off.
And then Simon relaxed on the couch, the flush to his face fading.
“Hey,” Magnus sat up straighter, “the cooling spell just worked on him.”
“What?” Jace mumbled. “Did it like, get onto him too?”
“That’s not how it works.” Magnus said. He watched in wonderment as Simon kicked the blanket away, now shivering with the added coolness. “Uh. So. Simon, when did the pain start?”
“Coupl’a hours ago.”
Magnus nearly laughed. “It’s the blood. He can feel what you feel.”
“The pain, the spell.” Magnus counted them off on his fingers. “You’re connected now. He can feel what you feel.”
There was a silence. Jace seemed to accept this, sitting back in his chair and simply shutting his eyes. He was probably to exhausted to think much about the situation. Simon’s eyelids flickered open again and he looked in Jace’s direction.
“Please don’t get poisoned again.”
Alec returned in the morning, and Magnus showed him his discovery. He had both boys sleeping in one of the wide four-poster beds in the guest room. They didn’t put up much of a fight about sharing a bed, considering they were both exhausted and sick. Plus, Magnus expected there was something that linked the boys that was a bit stronger than the shared blood.
“So it’s like Simon is your parabatai now, too!” Magnus teased, nudging Alec.
“No. Nope. It’s not.”
Simon slept for a long time, and when he woke up he was still clearly feeling shaky. But he was coherent enough to talk, which was an improvement from the night before.
Magnus had him propped up on the couch, sipping blood through a Sonic cup, while he explained the entire link as well as he could. Simon seemed unphased.
“Look, Jace is very reckless.” Magnus told Simon. “So you’re going to be in pain probably like, a lot. And when that happens you need to call me, rather than just laying on the floor of the boathouse. Alright?”
“I didn’t wanna bother you.” Simon said with a half-hearted shrug. “Like everyone always does.”
“It’s not a bother to take care of my family.” Magnus promised, running a hand through Simon’s hair. “Call me next time, sunshine. Alright?”
Simon rolled his eyes at the pet name, but he nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go back to bed, okay?”
“No problem. You can pick any guest room you’d like, I just put you with Jace last night for convenience.”
Simon nodded and got up, and Magnus watched him shuffle into the room that Jace still slept in. He peeked in a few minutes later and smiled when he saw the boys curled up together, the same peaceful expression on both their faces.