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#Fire Emblem Felix x reader
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Headcanon: Giving Felix the Silent Treatment Would Be Like...
Request: None
Word Count: 591
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At first, Felix wouldn't notice you giving him the silent treatment. When you stopped coming to see him in the training hall and pestering him to eat with you, Felix was relieved. He enjoyed his time alone and sometimes found your constant presence annoying. The lack of communication was a breath of fresh air for Felix.
After a few days, the feeling of freedom he had turned to dread. As much as he enjoyed his alone time, he enjoyed your company more. Sure, he felt annoyed when you interrupted his training, but he knew it was because you were looking out for him. You just wanted to make sure he was eating and resting. Making sure he was healthy was one way you showed him you cared.
At first, he figured you were just busy and would return to your usual routine soon. He would wait a couple more days before trying to seek you out.
Whenever he found you, you would leave and go somewhere else. Felix would keep trying, but you would always manage to evade him. Any time you actually did speak to him, it was all business. You acted like the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. Felix knew something was wrong. Even if you were busy, you would always make time for him, and you would never ignore or avoid him. 
Felix knew if he wanted to talk to you, he would have to corner you. He needed to understand why you were avoiding him and what he did to upset you. However, the more Felix tried to talk to you, the more upset he became.
After several failed attempts to corner you, Felix decided he would avoid you too. After noticing no change in your behavior, he realized his plan to get you to come to him wasn't going to work. Felix decided he needed to change his tactics. If you weren't going to let him come to you, and you weren't going to come to him, he was going to do something that he really didn't want to do.
Felix found himself sitting down to have dinner with Sylvain. He begrudgingly decided his best course of action would be to ask for help in order to fix his relationship with you. Sylvain might have been a little too happy to help, teasing Felix mercilessly about going to his for relationship advice.
The plan that the duo came up with was that Sylvain was to set up a meeting with you. He decided asking you to have lunch with him to discuss something important would be the best way to get you to agree. When you showed up to the meeting, you would see Felix and not Sylvain.
You could tell that Felix meant business, so you sat down across from him instead of leaving. Felix was planning on having lunch with you and began serving you food. He only said something once both of you had food in front of you. The first thing he wanted to know was what he had done wrong. He was willing to do anything to fix your relationship. After a long conversation, you agreed to work on your communication skills to avoid such situations again.
In the future, the two of you will communicate better. You would tell him when you needed more attention, and Felix would tell you when he needed more space. Your relationship would become even stronger. Felix enjoyed his time with you even more after not having you around for a while.
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randoimago · 2 years
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Hi hi hi I was wondering if you could please do headcanons on Felix from FE3H reconnecting/rebuilding his relationship with his younger sibling after Glenn’s death? It’s a concept that’s been rolling around my head like rock in my shoe! Thank you :)
Felix Reconnecting with Sibling After Glenn's Death
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Characters: Felix
Type of Request: Headcanons
Notes: Ooh this is an interesting idea since I can see Felix going a couple different ways with this. I went with him being stubborn for this one though!!
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Felix
It's difficult because he's stubborn and his mindset is stuck on him wanting to be stronger to protect you and it causes him to be rude and brash.
He knows he should actually talk to you more. You're the last sibling he has and he knows he should've leaned on you instead of pushing you away.
So it's very slow to redo that relationship. He tries to at least tell you "hi" and small things like that.
Honestly might need to bring Ingrid or Sylvain for them to help bridge the gap for Felix to be more comfortable with approaching you.
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aces-sweetheart · 1 year
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How about some headcanons where Sylvain Felix and Dimitri are feeling shy around a female reader?
aaaaa three of my fav boys💖 the hcs are a bit short so i did some drabbles with them. thank you for your patience, i hope you like them! i did a gn!reader since there was nothing in the scenarios that would specify them as a fem!reader.
cw: gn!reader, sfw
sylvain
i can't really imagine sylvain getting shy around anyone lol
but he will get flustered around you if he truly likes you (and isn’t just physically attracted to you)
if you compliment him he'll be a bit thrown off but will quickly recover and compliment you back/flirt back with you
rather than getting shy, he gets nervous and tries to hide it shows this by being overly enthusiastic 
((think his s-support scene with byleth where he says he’ll go blind if he doesn’t want him to look at other girls))
sometimes it can be too much but you know he means well
“I love your hair.” Sylvain paused at your words, leaving you to walk forward without him. You turned around in confusion to see him standing still for a moment before catching up with you. He tried to play off his reaction but you could tell he was flustered. 
“I love your hair and your eyes and your outfit and your-” You cut him off with a laugh that caused him to smile sheepishly. 
“Ok I get it!”
felix
it’s hard to tell when he’s shy around you since he can be very stand offish to begin with
he won’t make an effort to speak to you if he can avoid it
if he sees you, he may go as far as to turn the other way or hide at the training grounds or in his room
he’ll ignore you but you catch him very obviously staring at you a lot before he “casually” turns around like nothing happened
For once, Felix wasn’t focusing on his training. He should have been practicing the new move he learned from Byleth before the next battle but how could he when you were mere feet from him, practicing magic? Despite the fact that you two had only had a handful of conversations, he was smitten and seeing your body move and your eyes narrow in concentration as you cast spells certainly didn’t help. His brown eyes burned holes into your back. Knowing he was watching you so intensely made you so nervous your spell completely missed the target. You instinctively turned around to see if he saw the embarrassing moment but as soon as your eyes met his, he was suddenly very interested in his sword.
dimitri
dima is painfully shy around you
he really can’t hide it if he wanted too lmao
he'll be a bit awkward around you but it’s endearing 
as much as he wants to talk to you and get to know you, he becomes too timid to try
so he ends up talking about mundane topics like the weather
save yourself the pain and lead the conversation/take charge please
Dimitri silently pleaded with the rest of the war council to stay in the room so he wouldn’t have to be alone with you. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; it was actually the complete opposite. He liked you so much that he seemed to forget how to act and every potentially interesting conversation topic exited his mind until he was only left with subjects like the weather or what the dining hall was serving. Sylvain was the last to leave the room, throwing the blonde a wink and knowing smile over his shoulder as he walked out.  Finally it was just the two of you alone in the meeting room. You shot him a grin and he returned it with a strained tight lipped smile. 
“I hear they’re serving onion gratin soup today.” He fought the urge to cringe at his own awkwardness. It was an extremely lame attempt at small talk but judging your interested expression, you didn’t mind. You answered him by lacing your fingers with his and you leading him out the door. Pink dusted his cheeks and his eyes were wide at the sudden contact and forwardness, especially when you finally spoke.
“Why don’t we go eat together?”
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fiction-box · 3 months
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Hello! I would like to request F!Reader x Felix
It is the Winter Ball. One of them is weary of the dancing, the crowds and the merriment and decides to take refuge in the Training Grounds - only to find that the other had the exact same idea. They decide to do something that's more fun than dancing - a sparring match. Bonus points if reader is wearing a fancy gown the whole time.
Whenever your time allows - thank you in advance!
You are very welcome, and I would like to thank you for being respectful of my time.
I seem to be on a roll with these longer stories. I don't know why - more ideas just keep pouring into my head, and of course I want to do every conflict justice.
Thank you for giving me freedom with perspective! I wanted to write something from the view of Felix since I had yet to truly write for him.
Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.
You stood by yourself on the sidelines of the great hall, your purple dress sparkling against the downward lighting of the chandeliers. There was nothing particularly interesting about you right now; you simply surveyed the dancers on the checkered floor. Dimitri led Mercedes through an elegant twirl, Ingrid talked Ashe through the steps of the waltz, Annette and Sylvain engaged in a heated discussion over something that probably wouldn’t matter in about fifteen minutes…
…and Felix was staring at you.
The swordsman had refused to do any more than the bare minimum for the ball. That meant that despite his suit - one required by the Archbishop’s insipid dress code - his hair remained up off his neck, and his back pressed against the wall.
Dorothea had been making eyes at him from across the room for the past three minutes now. Felix told himself that was the reason he kept staring at you. If he and the songstress never made eye contact, she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Besides, she didn’t seem interested in asking anyone to dance; the brunette would only be accepting such invitations tonight.
Why the hell did he even care?
He didn’t, but he followed your line of sight to Dimitri. The boar switched partners to lead Hilda around the floor, an exchange initiated by the up-tempo of the cello and Mercedes’ apparent request for a break.
Why the hell did you even care?
…did you-?
“Jeez Felix, you’re so obvious.”
Sylvain.
“Trying to find the courage to ask her to dance?” the redhead teased. “I could help you out, you know. I’ve heard I’m an excellent wingman.”
“Do I look like I’m interested in moving right now? And since when have you ever helped anyone but yourself?”
“Ouch. I mean, you’re certainly not helping yourself- your suit coat will get wrinkled if you keep leaning against the wall like that.”
“As if I care!” Felix pushed off the wall to contest Sylvain at his full height. He did care. “There’s no point in this - we shouldn’t even be having a ball right now.”
“No- No- No- Hey look, no sweat, okay?” Sylvain verbally backpedaled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulder to guide him toward the refreshments. Subtly, he ran his hand along the wrinkles of his coat to smooth them out as they walked, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but soirées like these don’t happen very often.”
“So?”
“So, you have just as good a reason to be here as everyone else in this room. You can wait however long you want before asking anyone you want to dance, but it’s pretty frowned upon to return to a party once you leave, you know?”
The heir of Gautier knew him too well. Nonetheless, he did make a good point. There was no need to rush to be flustered - he probably had an hour before the final dance of the night.
A drink found his hand, and the two nobles took up a space several paces away from the table. Felix couldn’t stop his eyes from searching for your shimmering gown.
You were still standing alone, still watching the dancers.
At least your eyes weren’t fixed on the boar this time. The son of Count Gloucester glided a blue-haired lady across the floor, her dress trumpeting as he gracefully led her back and forth. Your attention followed their sweeping motions.
Maybe you really did just want to dance.
His classmate’s hand came to rest on his shoulder again, “I’m just saying, you hate to see it, Felix. A beautiful girl like that, standing all by herself. You better make a move before someone else does - or before I take too much pity on her and ask her myself.”
He had called you a girl, “Stay away from her.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you, kay?”
But he headed the opposite direction. The bluenette watched him connect with a pouting Dorothea, immediately starting some banter he was sure he couldn’t care less about.
Felix found himself growing impatient, despite everything his friend said moments ago. If he was going to do this, he might as well get it over with now. That way the two of you would either get as much time as possible to spend together, or he could end his attendance at this event because the one reason for which he cared to stay wanted nothing to do with him.
Only, there was no place to put his drink.
Since you were standing by the southern entrance, and he loitered near the drinks at the western wall, you could see him out of your peripheral. That meant you could catch him too easily if he were to look at you again. Not that it wasn’t already considered rude to stare.
Taking a sip of the cool, vanilla drink, his mind began to think it through a bit. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to make eye contact. It would give him an excuse to approach you.
And another thing - although you hadn’t been alone the whole ball, you hadn’t been approached by any men, either. Even working to put his bias out of the way, you were objectively attractive. It didn’t-
Goddess, and you belonged to a house in the kingdom, too. A young, available, attractive noblewoman standing by herself at - judging the crowd - the largest social event of the season.
A mumbled ‘What the hell…?’ parted his lips as he surveyed the room again. He might actually understand Sylvain, for once. Logically, this whole scenario didn’t connect.
Finally finishing his drink and handing off the glass, he found it in himself to turn to face you.
You were not there.
His heart skipped a beat before his gaze scanned the dance floor for your dress, your hair, anything. Upon coming up empty, his mind shoved one thought to the front of his mind.
You left the ball.
Again, why? There were too many important people here for you to just up and leave. You hadn’t tried to mingle this whole time, content with simply watching everyone else twirl about the floor. Then, the moment he became too preoccupied with his drink and with Sylvain to pay attention, you vanished.
In light of recent events, it looked like Felix was about to copy you.
With no further reason to stay, he tried not to make a show of striding to the southern entrance. The last thing he wanted was for someone to chase him out or call him back in, especially if that person had red hair or…or connections to the Mittelfrank Opera Company.
His feet instinctively wound the path to the training grounds. He needed to blow off some steam and get out of his head so he could get some proper rest tonight. Even so, if his mind wouldn’t relent, he would work his body so hard that he’d sleep as soon as he finished bathing himself.
Music trailed him, but it couldn’t compete with the creak of the doors to the training grounds. Once the door shut behind him, Felix was well and truly alone. The notes of the orchestral violins couldn’t penetrate the thick wood and metal, and no one else had any reason to come here tonight.
Still, his actions quickly caught up with him. What was he doing here? Why did it feel like he was running away?
Get a grip.
He wasn’t running away, he just wasn’t wasting time, either. Heading to the rack, Felix grabbed a steel sword. It didn’t matter which one, so long as it was heavy.
The sand of the center pit caved beneath his feet. There was no need for a training dummy to warm up. Routinely, Felix swung the sword over his head. His arms needed to be steady even while his attacks retained momentum and strength.
…10…11…12…
Any time a thought of the ball wormed its way into his head, Felix would shove it out. No point in dwelling on his failure to act - the two of you were far too young for anything serious to happen. No need to worry about Sylvain finding you - after what he said earlier, there was no way he would leave all the other ladies in that room for the one he knew Felix was interested in. He knew Sylvain that well, at least.
…57…58…59…
Why the hell wasn’t this working? Usually he could focus on this. This one thing that belonged to him, that he had done endlessly before that insufferable ball, and that he would continue to endlessly pursue after it. His training should belong to him! This was supposed to be how he grounded himself.
Felix was having a very difficult nig-
The doors to the entrance groaned, a delicate piano solo floating in through the opening as the moonlight guided a figure into the facility.
Upon recognition of the shimmer of your gown, the swordsman lowered the weapon from above his head.
…82…?
Thoughtful of the ongoing formal, you pivoted around the door, slowly and mindfully closing it in an apparent attempt to make as little noise as possible. Finally, you exhaled and turned to the center of the grounds.
“Oh- I- Sorry! Sorry, I’ll go.”
But your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light of the torches from the darkness outside, so your eyelashes fluttered as you reached past the door.
“No need,” Felix frowned. “You chose to come here, I don’t own the place.”
“Wait, Felix?” you marveled, turning back around only to blink against the light again. “I didn’t recognize you. I thought you were someone on maintenance.”
What. “What kind of maintenance staff wears a suit?”
“I didn’t get a good look, okay?” you defended, your eyes finally staying open and guiding you to where he currently stood.
Being this close to you now…it felt strange. Your makeup had been expertly applied, supposedly with help from Mercedes and Annette, the tailoring of your dress was much more obvious…
“But why are you here? You’re dressed for the ball, and I remember seeing you when I walked in.”
“You first,” he countered. “What did you think you were going to accomplish here in an evening gown?”
That caught you off guard. Your eyes found a spot on the ground beside you before trailing to the wall.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really have a plan. I’m not even sure why I’m here - I just feel like I’m supposed to be.”
His eyes narrowed, “What, are you trying to trick me into thinking this was fated or something?”
Your gaze drew back to him, confusion etched across your face.
“What?”
“Sylvain must have said something to you then, is that it?”
But you only looked more lost than you did before, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Sylvain and I haven’t spoken since…” your line of sight shifted above his head and slightly to the side, “…two days ago…? Professor Byleth puts us on stable duty every few days.”
The bluenette’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the hilt of his sword. Sylvain never said anything about this. Felix had no clue you were spending so much time together.
“Forget it,” he insisted, “you’re here, so we might as well do something productive. Spar with me.”
“In an evening gown? You practically said it yourself, I can’t do anything wearing this.”
Goddess save him, he did not know how to handle this situation. In terms of guiding the conversation, he did not think this through. There didn't seem to be a way for him to keep changing the subject or coming up with an idea for you to stay here, either.
All his defense mechanisms were failing, and he was becoming frustrated.
“Okay, your turn,” you crossed your arms, saving him for a moment. “Why did you leave the ball to come here?”
“There wasn’t a reason for me to stay, anymore.”
Some of the light in your eyes dimmed, just enough for him to catch it happening. Just enough to make him wonder why.
“Hang on,” he recovered, “you know I left to come here.”
“That’s not a question,” you affirmed.
“But you didn’t leave to come here. So why weren’t you at the ball?”
Your brows furrowed slightly, “I was at the ball-“
“No, you left before I did,” he asserted. “What were you doing in the time before you arrived here?”
Perhaps he was revealing too much. It shouldn’t matter anyway, and a normal person wouldn’t care this much. Even so, if you wanted to say you were just “called to be here”, he could reasonably contest that any information was up for grabs.
The way you stared at him had a way of making his neck warm. It was like you thought the answers were hidden in his eyes, your gaze focused as you supposedly retraced your night.
“Well, I did leave the ball for a little bit…” you recalled slowly.
After allowing you a moment, he pressed a bit, “Why?”
“Oh- Well, um…I needed to use the ladies’ room? At least, that’s the only other time I can remember leaving.”
The ladies’ room…?
Goddess, he was such a fool.
It was his turn to turn his head to the side, “I see.”
If his eyes could have burned the sand, the whole pit would be glass right now. 
His thoughts were quickly interrupted. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix noticed you slipping off your shoes.
“What are you doing?”
“Well,” you started, kicking the raised flats to the side before picking up a training lance from where someone had discarded it, “this dress doesn’t have sleeves, and I figured that if I took my shoes off, it would be easier to move. The slit up my leg should keep me mobile enough, so long as I don’t have to run.”
Damn, you were actually going to do this.
You lowered into a fighting stance upon returning to the pit opposite him. A smile lighting up your face.
“The sand feels so weird. It makes me wonder if this is what the beach feels like.”
But the two of you lived in Faerghus your whole lives, so he couldn’t tell you.
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re dressed differently.”
“Right, then let’s get started.”
You looked prepared to assume the defensive position; a smart move, considering that too much movement might mean you would slip on the long fabric of your clothing.
Felix far from opposed. He was used to being the offense, anyway.
Placing one foot in front of the other, he crossed the grounds and held his sword up to strike. Quick and easy - the point would go to him before you could even-
Your eyes widened, “Felix, wait! Don’t-!”
He hadn’t registered your words fast enough to stop himself. Intuitively, you held your lance up to defend yourself, and that’s when Felix realized what you were so worried about.
The weapon he was using wasn’t meant for sparring.
Breaking above your head, the wooden pole of your lance gave in. Felix stumbled forward, fighting for his balance as you rolled to the side in an attempt to protect your head.
He hissed, cursing himself for making such an amateur (and deadly) mistake, “Damn, my bad.”
“Goddess,” he heard you breathe, your eyes wide from your position on the ground, “I thought I was about to die.”
That was a thought. His eagerness to train and avoid an awkward encounter with you nearly...well, it wouldn’t have been pretty.
Leaving you to get yourself up, he moved to trade the steel sword for a wooden one. The noble also elected to take off his blazer and leave it behind, giving his arms better range of motion.
Turning back around, he noticed you were still struggling to rise to your feet.
“Seriously? It can’t be that hard.”
But just watching you made him want to take it back. The sand had become uneven from when you dodged toward the ground, and your dress kept finding its way under your feet whenever you tried to stand. Whenever you pooled the fabric out of the way in one area, it only gathered in another to slide under you. Not to mention that after so much struggle, the yellow grains were all over your skin and gown. It looked uncomfortable, at best.
Frowning, Felix approached, “Hang on.”
With your consent, he placed his hands at your waist and lifted you to the point you could stand again. You thanked him, a light flush on your cheeks that he tried not to think too hard about.
“I’d say that was embarrassing,” you started, “but considering I very nearly earned a trip to Manuela a moment ago, I don’t think I should care.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Nothing bad came of it, so I don’t mind. Still, you should work on your etiquette.”
The swordsman raised a brow, “Excuse me?”
“You left me to fend for myself in the sand for two minutes while you went to exchange your sword and take off your coat. It’s like I’m not even here,” you teased, approaching the training racks. “And then not only did you prioritize your sword over helping me, but you couldn’t even grab me a new lance.”
“I’m here to fight, nothing else. If you have a problem with that, no one’s forcing you to stay.”
In all fairness, you were right. He was too wrapped up in being with you to register that he was about to hurt you, and then he was too worried about how he almost hurt you to remember to help you back up again.
Why was he so bad at this?
Thankfully, you seemed to ignore the more bitter parts of his previous statement and took it for what it was - a proposition to rematch.
You found your places opposite one another, preparing for a genuine spar. Felix watched you sink into your defensive position again, nodding to confirm you were ready. 
This time when he charged, his sword remained in a lower position. He wanted to slice upwards, reading your potential roll to the side while still being ready to follow up swiftly.
The moment he brought the sword up into you, you pivoted and thrust the lance forward. It would have technically impaled him, but you were courteous enough (and skilled enough) to angle the weapon so it slid against his side instead.
Felix halted the momentum of his arms, bringing them down slowly and preventing the hit he would have landed on you.
“That one goes to you.”
Switching sides with you, the second son ran his hand along his side. A warmup, nothing more. You wouldn’t go down easy, and neither would he.
You were once again prepared, and Felix signaled that the second round had begun, but he did not rush forward. If you wanted to hit him, you would need to put yourself at risk.
It didn’t take long for you to catch on, though you make a point to approach at a casual walk.
“Are you serious?”
“Are you? You think I’m foolish enough to run at you after I couldn’t stand on my own? If you wanted to go fast, you should have taken up offense again.”
Once you were close enough, you suddenly lunged twice and brought your lance down and across his body. Felix lept back before charging forward, but you came in with a block.
You held strong against his resistance, but your feet couldn’t find a proper stance thanks to your limited range of motion. He probably had your fear of slipping on the fabric again to thank, as well.
Deliberately, Felix stepped on your dress.
A gasp parted your lips as the heels of your feet slid forward. You fell backward only for Felix to step forward and catch you, one arm around your back, one hand holding his sword to your throat.
“Th-that’s not fair, and you know it,” you protested, breaths quickened from the adrenaline of almost falling.
“You chose to come fight in this. You think your opponent is going to care how you’re dressed?”
After a moment, you relented, “Fine, you win this one.”
Usually, Felix would be okay with the “whatever means necessary” ideology. When it came to you, however, it only worried him. Did he really need you to have a disadvantage for him to win?
He lowered you to the ground before picking you up again, presuming you would take longer to regain your footing if he left you on the sand. You were set upright on your feet at the solid edge of the pit.
As he reached the other side of the sands, he noted that you still looked bitter - probably about the last point. Perhaps that could work in his favor.
However, even after several seconds, the emotion in your eyes didn’t go away. You appeared almost…insulted?
In the back of his mind, he retraced his steps. You yielded the point how you normally would, and you weren’t a sore loser. You appeared more baffled than anything when he had tripped you…
Shit.
Felix had completely manhandled you out of the training area.
And that would explain why you were simultaneously glaring daggers into him and scanning him up and down.
“Don’t worry, I’ll attack this time,” the bluenette managed. In fear of being wrong and coming off egotistical, that was probably the best apology he could give right now.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
No, you were decidedly not happy.
He approached, trying to build as much momentum as possible before choosing to open with a block. If you were looking to parry an attack, he would be left with an opening. If you were looking to block him too, he would likely knock you to the ground and gain the point.
Maybe then he could offer to help you up properly.
No, he needed to stay focused. He was training right now, not apologizing.
Effectively distracted, neither of his plans came to fruition as you reached out and grabbed his cravat, pulling it down and causing him to run past you.
“Wh-!”
A dull stab at his back shoved him out of bounds, taking away any chance he had at regaining his balance. He tumbled to the ground.
“You’ve been impaled, that’s mine.”
He wanted to be mad, but he was more shocked than anything. After all, he could hardly complain after doing a similar thing to you last round.
A hand in his peripheral offered to help him to his feet. Accepting it, he rose, picking his sword up off the ground.
At least that seemed to get everything out of your system, “Maybe you were right, we can’t really accomplish anything serious while we’re dressed like this.”
“It’s not like we…”
A song loud enough to be heard from within the training ground bounced against the walls. It caught him off guard, especially since he hadn’t been able to hear any music since you closed the doors earlier. Whatever they were playing now, the whole orchestra was involved.
“The last dance already?” your head turned to the entrance, as well. “There’s no way…”
“Did you promise someone a dance?” he guessed.
“Something like that,” you worried. “I told Annette and Mercedes that I would be sure to dance with at least someone tonight after all they did for me. I…kind of got carried away watching earlier, and then I got scared I would forget the moves, and then I left to come here.”
He didn’t know what to say, but there was no way you could go back now. Sand covered your slightly tousled hair, your gown, and he was sure it found its way into your shoes. Your cheeks were still somewhat red from earlier, and…
It was all his fault. He even stepped on your gown without thinking.
Goddess, he really needed to start using his head.
Tossing his sword into the sand, Felix took the lance from your hands and threw it aside too. Swiftly, he retrieved your shoes and placed them in front of you.
“Felix, there’s no way…” but you slid them on anyway, “…and the song already began. It will be over by the time I get there.”
Face unreadable, your classmate extended a hand to you. “Do you think it would count if we started now?”
“Wait, what? You…want to dance with me?”
“If you don’t want me to be your partner after everything that’s happened tonight, I’ll understand-“
You took his hand, placing your own on his shoulder and facing him completely, “You lead. I’m still not certain how this one goes.”
It was a lie. It must have been. The moment the pair of you felt the music together, you were off. The strings followed a simple waltz - an accessible dance that even most commoners could perform. An obvious choice for the last dance of the night.
He knew his frame to be stiff, but it didn’t matter. Especially not when you were so blatantly stealing the hypothetical show, swaying and leaning back as the two of you spun gracefully around an invisible point on the ground. Your arms barely ghosted his own.
In a rare moment, he wished his dance partner were less aware, less experienced. He wanted you to lean on him so he could lead you through the dance, but he knew that was not in your nature.
You were charming, assured, and independent. The dance belonged to you, so much so that he felt like a mere prop. He supposed that was how it went in the theatres Sylvain had always dragged him to in the past. The women stole the spotlight while the men were evaluated on how good they could make their partners look.
There was no doubt. You deserved a better partner.
“Hey,” his voice was unsure. It had been several measures since he last used it. “I…you shouldn’t be dancing with me.”
“What are you talking about?” you smiled, coming back to his chest and resuming your normal posture.
“I mean you should be in the great hall, dancing with someone that would actually do you justice,” he suddenly didn’t want to face you. “I feel like I took that away from you. I spend all my time here working with a sword - my last dancing lesson ended when I was twelve.”
He stopped himself, spinning you away before he could say too much. This was about you. You had missed what could have been one of the biggest days of your life. He pulled you back in and met your eyes. Felix missed an event he already planned on skipping.
“...it’s nice. I prefer it. This way it’s just us.”
“Just us?” he hoped you couldn’t hear his heartbeat.
“Oh- I only mean- I don’t have to worry about anyone staring at me because I don’t know the steps or anything.”
It was beginning to make him angry, if only because it made no sense, “Why do you keep saying that?”
You were caught off guard, slipping up for the first time tonight. Felix finally felt useful, steadying you enough to fall back into the orchestra’s rhythm.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” you lowered your voice like you were telling him a secret. “That’s what my sister told me. She and everyone that visited the manor.”
Blinking a bit, you turned to the side, “I’m doing it wrong. My steps are too wide. My arms are too heavy. I must be repulsed by my partner if I’m leaning back that much. Those kinds of things.”
Your partner merely scoffed, “Jealous.”
He hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but he knew.
“They can’t do what you can. There are nobles all over Fodlan like that; people who don’t like being shown up. They’ll say anything to make you give up or feel bad about yourself, but they lack the ambition to do any better themselves.”
“You really think so?”
“Have you met anyone better at dancing than yourself?”
“Well, I…I’ve never seen myself dance before.”
“Then take my word for it. Show Professor Byleth if you doubt it, but just be prepared for her to demand a rematch for the Heron Cup.”
Honestly, Felix didn’t know why he was being so forward about this. It was just another unjust part of the world they were all tripping over themselves to fix, he supposed. Still, if dancers could be trained for the battlefield, he saw no reason for his house to settle on an amateur.
The piano slowed to play a few high notes and end the song on a major chord. Accordingly, the two of you came to a stop.
“Thank you,” you stepped away timidly, “for the dance…and…”
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. Manuela could teach you - you could do this on the battlefield much better than whoever actually won the competition.”
You hummed, probably pondering the thought.
Presuming it was time to head back before you both could be found and accused of something mindless, Felix picked up your weapons from where he had discarded them. He caught you brushing the sand off your skin and down your dress before he left to put the items away. The blazer he set aside earlier found its way to his back again, his cravat tucked in appropriately.
You waited across the hall to hold the door for him. Once you both walked through, it shut with a final thud, sealing away everything that happened in the training grounds that night.
He saw you talking to Professor Byleth after class the next day. Although he couldn’t hear what you were saying, some part of him hoped you chose to take his words to heart.
Perhaps it had been a good time to host a ball.
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wxntxr-cxtrxs · 2 months
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"make it hurt" (felix)
your hands grip the bed sheets, clawing desperately against them in search of something to ground yourself. your back arched into his touch as he thrusts his fingers in and out. you toss your head from side to side, desperately crying out. Your fingers dig into the sheets so hard the fabric threatens to tear under your hands. 
He brings his free hand up to brush yours, drawing your attention back to him. “if you want something to tear into,” he taunts, “I want it to be me.” your eyes shoot open in surprise, locking onto his. He slows the movement of his hand, waiting for your response. 
you carefully bring your hands up to his shoulders, and he returns to his ministrations- working you open on his fingers roughly. you moan once again, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescents in his skin. Noticing immediately, you try for an apology. “I’m sorry, i-” 
But the shiver that runs through him is unmistakable- as is the way he speeds up his movements to try for the same reaction. your hands flex and nails dig into him once again, your fingers tearing at him in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. 
He lets out a soft groan against the skin of your hip, before using the opportunity to press an open mouthed kiss into your skin. 
Still, the scrapes and scratches you deal out are guarded slightly, as if you're trying to avoid inflicting damage. One of your hands claws down his back, leaving reddened marks in its wake, but not breaking the skin. 
His moan is desperate, and he grinds his hips against the bed. “Fuck, make it hurt.”
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frickingnerd · 4 months
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the night of the ball
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pairing: felix hugo fraldarius x gn!reader
summary: felix asks you for a dance during the ball and you can't pass on the rare opportunity to see him dance
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"would you like to dance?"
you almost jumped as you heard those words. being asked to dance wasn't a surprise, you were attending a ball after all. but that voice, it sounded almost like… 
"felix…?"
you stared up at your classmate, unable to do anything but just… stare at him. no, this couldn't possibly be felix. he'd never ask you to dance! felix wouldn't dance! you must've misunderstood… 
"yes, that's me. so, are we going to dance or not? because if you don't want to, i'll just go and–"
"no, i want to dance with you–!!"
if anything, you were curious. you couldn't pass up this once in a lifetime chance to dance with felix hugo fraldarius. even if you still didn't know why he'd even ask you to dance…
felix grabbed your hand, as gently as he possibly could, while leading you onto the dancefloor. on your way there, you looked into a lot of confused faces. it seems like you weren't the only one who was surprised to see felix' sudden interest in dancing. 
"so… why me?"
felix had just placed his hands on your hips, the two of you slowly started to dance, as you couldn't keep your questions to yourself anymore. 
"i always thought you hated me… so why didn't you ask annette or ingrid to dance?"
felix just huffed amused, pulling you a bit closer. 
"i don't hate you, idiot... i never have hated you"
now you were the amused one, raising an eyebrow and leaning in closer, to make eye contact with felix.
"oh sorry, i forgot you treat everyone this way~" you teased. "then let me ask instead… why don't you hate me then?"
felix glanced away, his eyes narrowing down. he didn't seem to like that question and yet he pulled himself together and answered. 
"you treat me like my own person. the others just see glenn or my father in me, but… you don't care about that. maybe you don't even care about me, but i like that!"
you hadn't expected so much honesty from felix. he was right, you didn't see him as glenn or rodrigue. you never knew them well, so there was no reason to treat felix like someone you didn't even know. 
"i'm… flattered!"
you admit, softly smiling at felix. though this only caused the boy to roll his eyes, as a small blush seemed to hush over his face. 
"just don't start treating me differently now, got it?"
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sothisblessmysoul · 11 months
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Can I ask for a bouquet of flowers for the blue lions? That sounds so adorable. 🥰
(I never knew if you wanted all of them or selected few so I did all of them)
༓ʚ A Flower's Meaning ɞ༓
Summary: The Blue Lions react to you catching a bouquet at a friend’s wedding
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༓Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd He watched you catch it without blinking or flinching, mainly just confused as the realization slowly took over your face as you finally met Dimitri’s gaze. There was something about how the flowers looked in your hands and the look that you gave him that made Dimitri feel so flustered. So pretty, is his single thought as Dimitri’s made his way to you, feet on autopilot.
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༓Dedue Molinaro Dedue’s eyes were completely on you, holding the colorful flowers that all mean a term of love in language as everyone else is looking between you and him. He doesn’t flare up in a blush or appear startled but you can see Dedue is feeling embarrassedly flustered by the awkward stiffness of his movement as the tall man makes his way to you.
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༓Felix Hugo Fraldarius Felix does not want to be here with unimportant people, if anything he wants to be comfortably at home with you. But he will admit that the other wedding is pretty. Felix wonders if you’ve ever thought about marriage, but any further thought of the subject changes when you catch the flowers that nearly smacked you in the face. The image of what you would look like holding yours flashed quickly in his thoughts as for once Felix quietly watched you.
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༓Ashe Ubert A blush marked his freckled face with a happy smile but a shy expression at the teasing that Ashe knows his friends and siblings will give him as you walked over to him. Subconsciously Ashe reached out his hand for you to take, gently pulling you closer to his side as Ashe studied the flowers. The bouquet was pretty but it wasn’t your favorite, he thought to himself. The following thought is how beautiful you would look, holding your favorite flowers while neither Ashe nor you let go of each other’s hands because it felt like two missing puzzle pieces found a place to fit perfectly together.
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༓Sylvain Jose Gautier Immediately starts to sweat nervously as the flowers are perfectly in your hand while his hand subconsciously touches his pocket where the ring is that he’s planning to ask your hand for later. He had been carrying it, not having a day or place in mind until right now. This is a sign, he thinks as you lock eyes with him and smile which he returns.
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༓Mercedes von Martritz She was standing right beside you when you had caught the flowers, she leaned over to sniffle the flowers with a smile growing on her face as she looked up at you, pulling away from you but not before kissing your cheek. She giggled quietly at your reaction to the flowers and the kisses. She is going to tease you but this will bring up the thought of marriage and the future with her.
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༓Annette Fantine Dominic Instantly a crimson blush blooms on her face as endless giggles of excited bundles of nerves, reaching how to touch one of the flowers’ petals. Annette went quiet, wondering what flowers she would pick for her wedding, she subconsciously looked at you. She isn’t going to say anything immediately today or tomorrow but there will be hints of marriage, hoping that you’ll catch on and talk about it with her.
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༓Ingrid Brandl Galatea She never really thought deeply about marriage, it was just something that her father wanted for her. But when Ingrid saw your reaction to catching the bouquet to look for her and finally smiling when you found Ingrid, she wondered for a fleeting thought if you would smile like that at the altar. She can’t explain why it made her face blush although Ingrid didn’t hate that idea at all because without question she knows that Ingrid would say yes if you asked her.
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glowingbadger · 6 months
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Felix and 5 from the kink list… v///v,,, with reader in the supervisor/superior role,,,,
Ohohohoho how intriguing, I love this character/kink combination. Obviously, this will be a modern AU, so heads up about that~
Also, man, is there anything a fem person can wear that's sexier than a white blouse with a pencil skirt, tights/stockings and a pair of black pump heels? It's one of my greatest weaknesses, so if you're someone who wears fem presenting clothes, probably just envision that for Reader-chan here lol
CW: office romance, boss x employee
Felix (FE3H) x GN! Reader
Kink prompt #5 (office sex)
NSFW 18+
Felix is the only one of your coworkers with the quiet audacity to let himself into your office without so much as a knock- nevermind that, as department lead, you're technically his supervisor. His expression rests at its usual prickly default as he wordlessly nudges your door closed behind him, and you turn to face him with a single eyebrow quirked.
"We've talked about knocking," you say with a sigh, "I'd appreciate if you'd exhibit the same level of professionalism as anyone else here."
"It's nearly six," he says bluntly, one hand on his hip and the other absently tugging at his tie, loosening it just a bit, "It's not like there's anyone left to care. You're the only one still sitting around here."
"And you, apparently."
His gaze drifts absently to the bookcase beside your desk.
"Guess so."
Silent once more, he loiters near the shelves lined with books that haven't been touched for as long as you've occupied this office, and nick-nacks you'd placed haphazardly, if only because you had nowhere else to put them.
"Well... I've still got, like, two dozen e-mails to get to, so..." you trail off, a hand running through your hair as you exhale.
When Felix turns to you, he's scowling.
"You work too hard. None of the other idiots at this company put in the kind of hours that you do."
"Coming from you, that almost sounds like a compliment," you say with a weary grin.
"It's not," he replies.
Just like that, he approaches, and now he's close- far too close for an employee alone with his supervisor. You turn to face him, but end up trapped between his body and the edge of your desk pressed to the back of your thighs. Your breath catches, but you maintain composure. Or, you think you do. It's hard to keep yourself in check when you catch the way his brown eyes flicker towards your lips for just a split second.
"It's irritating," he says, his tone harsh but his voice low, "You should be delegating more of your workload. I hate seeing you here this late every day."
As he speaks, his hand is running up the side of your neck until his palm cups your jawline and his fingertips tease into your hair. His touch is gentle despite his usual harsh demeanor, and by now, you know to expect this. Felix is always gentle with you in your rare and precious time alone together, no matter how he may come across to anyone else. You smile warmly at him.
"But if I work less, you and I won't get to have these little private meetings so often."
You run a hand up the muscled abdomen you can feel through his dress shirt, then tug him closer by his tie- and he allows it, despite his wry expression.
"And I wouldn't have to come pester you like this if you didn't need to be convinced to leave your desk."
Your smile curls into a half-smirk.
"You haven't done much convincing yet, Mr. Fraldarius."
He offers no reply, but fixes his hands at your hips and turns you firmly around towards that very same vexing desk. With his body flush to yours, your ass presses firm against where you can feel his cock beginning to rise. His hands run up your sides, and you mew his name softly into the empty office.
"Quiet," he whispers against your ear, his breath tickling your skin sending a shivering tremor through you.
"No one's here..." you manage. His hands run over your chest, fingers grazing across your nipples, and your body arcs against him. His hips pitch forward, grinding his erection against you as it grows ever larger and ever more insistent.
"Could be other stragglers. Besides," he pauses to tease the shell of your ear with his teeth, "I like it when you try to keep quiet. And I like it even more when you fail."
As though to prove his point, he shifts away from you just enough to slap an open palm against your ass, forcing a whimpering moan from your lips.
"Felix..!"
He groans, but stifles the sound in the crook of your neck.
"You're... such a pain," you gasp out, "The nerve to... treat your supervisor like- mmh!"
He bites down at your shoulder muscle, and you can only imagine the kind of mark he's leaving you, with a thrill of warm arousal between your legs at the thought. Shameless hands still travel your body, slow but firm and unabashed, each inch of skin claimed only compounding your need for him. Until, finally, he begins to tug your clothes away with the kind of demanding force you've come to expect and adore from him. He's impatient, but so are you, so when he only manages to get your clothing just out of the way enough to press the tip of his cock to your entrance, you're already burning with anticipation.
"Fuck-" you inhale sharply as he pushes into you, opening you up around each inch of him. His cock throbs at your eager response, and the twitching motion just stretches you even better, rubs into you sinfully. Felix rocks his hips against you in a slow yet relentless rhythm, pushing steadily deeper until he's held inside of you to the base, your bodies nestled firmly together.
"You must be pent up," he speaks softly but plainly against your neck, "You're trembling like you already want to cum."
He's not wrong, but he doesn't have to outright say it. Your unsteady hand meets the sharp line of his jaw and travels up to his hair, holding him close as you struggle to steady your breath.
"Felix, please-"
You feel the harsh scrape of his teeth at your neck once more, and before you've even processed this sharp sensation, he pulls back, then thrusts his cock into you, deep and hard. Your hands fly to the surface of the desk beneath you to steady yourself, and as he continues to fuck you from behind, it's the only thing keeping your trembling legs from giving out. You're biting down on your lip, fighting against the cries of pleasure you so dearly want to let out. You feel his hand descend against your ass once more, then grab a handful, savoring the way your flesh fills his palm. And with that, your restraint already begins to fracture. Each time the head of his cock pounds into that sweet spot deep within you, your voice escapes in gradually clearer moans.
"That's it- come on, stop being difficult," his hands grab at your hips and pull you against him, holding you in place while his entire length lurches against your inner walls- and you moan. Fuck, you moan so loud that for a moment, you think that if there's a single soul lingering in this entire building, they must have heard you.
"There," Felix grunts- he's trying to sound firm and measured, but you can hear the way his voice wavers as you tighten and squeeze around his hard member, "See what I have to do... to get you to stop thinking about work..?"
He's definitely succeeded- you're hardly thinking about anything, let alone work. Your body is warm and your mind is buzzing with the thrill of pleasure and taboo, and it's all you can do to arch back against him once more and murmur,
"Just shut up and fuck me."
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Hey, sorry for bothering. I was wondering if you can do a fire emblem heroes head canon with a child summoner reader, who has social anxiety (of extra drama you can add past trama but this bit is optional)? Again sorry for bother, I just think the idea is cute because tiny timid summoner.
Child!Summoner:
Alfonse, who feels so much guilt that they've placed the burdens of their world on a child to the point where he overcompensates by constantly reminding Summoner to ask him if they need anything at all. "Alfie I'm tired." Yes he lets them call him that nickname, and yes he immediately gives them a piggyback ride.
Sharena is the same, except she will let tiny Summoner hide behind her in social situations. When talking with certain heroes, Sharena will either be right by their side or nearby to jump in if it looks like they are afraid. Camilla is someone else who will allow Summoner to hide behind her if they'd wish during social situations.
"You've seen war child, and you mean to tell me people is what you fear?" Thorr sees the irony in it all, Askr's greatest weapon a child, whose knees threaten to buckle in gatherings of people. "Steady yourself, I will not allow harm to befall you." But she still tries to ease their worries regardless.
Grima calls Summoner, little worm and little human (affectionately). They aren't as sympathetic to Summoner's anxiety, as other heroes but Grima's presence alone scares off plenty of people. "Why worry yourself little worm? I will turn them all into ash and their foolish opinions with them." Yeah... not very helpful.
But if we want to be angsty, and Summoner has trauma, I just know Grima would be seething. "How typical of humans to turn on their own, not even their own children are safe from foolishness. This is why I will destroy them all."
Little Summoner has so many family members now. Hector likes to carry them around on his shoulders, Seteth and Flayn teach them how to fish. Ephraim teaches them how to use a lance, Felix teaches them how to use a sword but both of them make the mistake of handing the child one made of steel and are surprised when they can't even pick the weapon up off the ground. Seth was around when Ephraim was teaching Summoner, and was sighing the whole time.
Setsuna and Summoner have both been found just chilling in traps together, Setsuna's calm demeanor helps them to not panic. Xander takes them horseback riding and almost has a full blown panic attack because they immediately fell off the horse. Helbindi incites violence on anyone who makes Summoner cry.
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feeeee · 2 years
Note
Hi can I request cuddle headcanons for Shura Hubert Lon’qu Dimitri and Felix separately with a female reader?
of course, thanks for sending in the first request! hope you enjoy.
cuddling with shura, hubert, lon'qu, dimitri, and felix includes ...
SHURA
♡ Like some of the others on this list, Shura is a bit afraid to get all snuggly with you.
♡ He's fond of cuddling, but with his reputation and nature as a thief, he doesn't want you to eventually regret all the hours you've spent so close together and deems himself somewhat unworthy of your affection.
♡ Funnily enough, though, he's the one to initiate cuddles.
♡ He often pulls you into his arms and simply treasures you. His girl, the one thing nobody can ever take from him.
♡ He puts his entire heart into making sure you're as warm and comfortable as possible.
♡ Being the big spoon or little spoon doesn't matter to him, he likes to protect and also feel protected from the harsh world you two reside in.
♡ He enjoys sweet talking you as you two nestle in each other's arms, just letting you know how grateful he is for you.
♡ You'll commonly hear him comment on how a rugged thief like him doesn't know how he scored you, but you're always there to silence him with kisses.
♡ He'll wrap you up in his clothes so you can smell like him even after you two finish your session.
HUBERT
♡ Hubert is someone who enjoys a nondistracting cuddle as he works, you relaxing in his lap as his quill scribbles away at his scrolls.
♡ He'll use his free hand to give your cheek a little brush every once in a while, or peck your cheek if he senses that you need a kiss.
♡ He's here to indulge your every need, so long as it benefits you, so if you're a cuddly one he'll gladly snuggle with you. He's devoted to you and would be a liar if he claimed that he doesn't enjoy your warmth.
♡ He's naturally quite cold to the touch, so when the temperature drops he'll drink in as much of your warmth as possible, preferring to sleep snuggled up with you as opposed to separate sides of the bed.
♡ Cuddling is something foreign to him, but he's a fast learner, and will likely mimic your movements and pick up on things you enjoy. If you relish in having your hair ruffled or being the little spoon, he'll make your wishes come true.
♡ Enjoys reading stories to you to coax you into sleeping peacefully in his arms.
LON'QU
♡ Lon'qu honestly avoids cuddling at first. He's comfortable around you, but he's also terrified of being so... vulnerable with a woman.
♡ He always has an excuse to refrain from bundling up, and one day, he finally admits that he's inexperienced and somewhat nervous to do so.
♡ That's when you lock him into a warm embrace and feel him tense around you, before he relaxes in your grip. He lets out a sigh, and just turns to mush.
♡ He becomes a cuddling monster soon after.
♡ While still vaguely stiff and unsure of what to do with his hands or legs most of the time, he realizes what he's been missing out on his whole life, and finds it a great way to destress after a long day of vigorous training.
♡ He loves to rub circles on your skin, covered in fabric or left bare, he feels so close to you and can feel the joy radiating from you in waves.
♡ You may even spot the slightest smile gracing his features if he's caught off guard enough.
♡ Gently massaging his scars is a good way to see him crack a smile.
♡ Call him petnames and talk to him to break the comfortable silence and he'll fold. Hearing his favorite girl call him handsome or beloved as your limbs are tied in knots together makes him absolutely crumble.
DIMITRI
♡ Dimitri is intimidated by being so close to a human body with how fragile they can be, so when he cuddles you for the first few times he treats you as if you're a goddess made of glass.
♡ His touches and kisses are featherlight, handling you with utmost care.
♡ Eventually you have to encourage him to tighten his grip, to kiss with a little more force, to truly show his devotion to you with zero fear.
♡ To which he obliges. Once he conquers his anxieties, he's smooching you from head to toe, arms suffocating you in adorable bear hugs.
♡ Can and will wrap you in his cloak by the fireplace in your shared quarters.
♡ Dimitri will cuddle you anywhere, anytime. He's fond of showing his affection to his beloved while taking strolls, and will gladly take a seat on a bench to absorb every inch of you.
♡ If you play with his hair he'll melt. Whether you braid it or run your fingers through it, and after a long day try to sort through the knots with your fingers. he'll be beet red and overflowing with lovey dovey feelings.
FELIX
♡ Felix is like a cat at first, hisses at the slightest touch but before you know it he's curled up in your lap, breathing synchronized with yours.
♡ He may scoff when you pepper him with kisses or intertwine your fingers with his, but he secretly lives for it.
♡ Like Dimitri, his weakness is his lover playing with his hair. Let his hair down and bury your face in it, you won't regret it.
♡ A big fan of hand holding, and comparing hand sizes as you do so. Whether yours are smaller, larger, the same size - he could gaze at your hands connected with his all day and all night.
♡ He isn't a fan of cuddling in public places, but boy does he relax when you two go to secluded wild areas, like a flower field. He's fond of holding hands under tables too, letting you rest your head on his shoulder if you grow weary.
♡ His guard is always up during cuddle time so you may have to hush him and reassure him that nobody will catch him like this, it's just you and him. He appreciates it, and appreciates how warm and soft you feel flush against his scars and bruises from combat.
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theruseandthecaper · 1 year
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you asked for a felix plot!
what about felix overworking himself? reader tries to get him to take a break and he ends up passing out from training? maybe a lil argument but reader dotes on him and takes care of him ❣️ normal snarky felix fluff hehe
THIS IS SO CUTE. i am crying screaming throwing up i love felix sm. This gets a little angstier than i initially thought but it clears up in the end cuz felix is a bitch but he’s a bitch who’s soft for the reader. I hope he’s in character??? Ahhhh 
Btw go to the end for a little list of songs i listened to while writing this! I wanna give more music recommendations to people so hopefully u guys enjoy those too :) 
You were worried about Felix. Again. Honestly, at this point, when were you not?
He was consistently overworking himself. Which was normal, you had to admit, but he’d been in a bad way recently. His red eyes being brought out by prominent eye bags, his bed left empty and door left ajar late at night when you’d go to visit him. Nights spent tirelessly training and training, the sword never leaving his hand. He had to improve. Every hour spent sleeping, eating, even spent with you, was a waste in his mind. Only if he was swinging a sword at a training dummy or a real partner was an hour worth living. It wasn’t healthy, for him or you. 
And it hurt you. With every swing of his sword, it was as though he was chopping up your heart, breaking it into billions of pieces, smaller with every hit.
It hurt you seeing him exhausted, hardly eating, hardly sleeping. It hurt you seeing him look like a walking corpse. It stung seeing the fresh calluses on his hands from gripping the sword. It stung how he seemed to enjoy his time training more than spending time with you.
This had to stop, you realized. You had to put an end to this, for not only your sake, but mostly for his. You were worried sick. You knew Felix better than anybody, and you could read him cover to cover like a little kid could read a picture book. You knew he wouldn’t stop until he was physically unable to continue, and even then, he’d still try. Stubborn as a mule, that boy was. Obstinate bitch. But he was your obstinate bitch, and you loved him. 
These thoughts led you to the training grounds at 2 in the morning, knowing that’s where you’d find him. Sure enough, there he was, black hair tied up and slicked with sweat, sword buried deep within a training dummy as nobody else was awake to spar with you. As you entered, Felix looked up, his crimson eyes lighting up with recognition.
“Ah, [Y/N],” He began, pulling the sword out of the dummy. You could see how exhausted he was just from studying his face. His eyes were glossy with exhaustion. When was the last time he slept? “Spar with me.”
“What? No. Felix. How long have you been at this?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you came closer. “Do you have any idea what time it is? When was the last time you’ve eaten? Slept? Bathed? Took care of yourself?” The fact that he even had to pause to think about it broke your heart. It was as though you were the training dummy, ripped through the chest by his sword, stuffing spilling out of the gaping hole that was left where your heart was. He was neglecting himself. You weren’t surprised, but still torn all the same.
​​”Those things won’t help me get better.” He said with a scoff, turning away from you to start thrusting his sword at the training dummy once more. You could feel the tears begin to gather in your eyes. Stubborn. Stubborn, stubborn boy. 
“Felix, they will. You can’t get stronger if you keep neglecting yourself. Everybody needs rest, Felix. Even the strongest of swordsmen still take days off to make sure they’re in top condition.” You were right, and he knew that. He just refused to admit it. Too prideful to ever admit he was wrong. He looked up at you, and you could see just how exhausted he was. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He just swayed back and forth for a few seconds before his eyes snapped shut and he went toppling to the floor, sword clattering to the ground. 
You rushed forwards, grabbing him before he could hit his head. You were crying now, gently propping his head up in your lap. You vowed to yourself at that moment. The next day, you’d force him to stay in bed. You’d cook for him, run him a nice warm bath, wash his clothes, and you’d keep him 10 feet away from a sword at all times. 
So, lit only by the light of the moon, you carried him back to his room. You laid him in his bed after you’d changed the sheets, tucked him in, closed the blinds and let him sleep for as long as he needed to. You cleaned up his room a bit, washed the pile of dirty clothes that had accumulated on his floor, and then you just waited. 
And wait you did, never once leaving his side even though he was out for hours upon hours upon hours, only leaving to make him some breakfast and use the bathroom. You slept by his side, ate by his side, cried by his side. And once he did finally begin to stir, he had a plate of healthy food beside him and a tall glass of water. He glanced up at you, then back down at the food, then back at you before his eyes narrowed. You were both silent, but the look in his eyes spoke what his mouth would not. Finally, he swung his legs out of bed and got up, reaching for the sword he had hanging on the back of his door. You roughly grabbed his arm and forced him back down into bed, shocking him by your strength. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius. You’re not leaving this damn bed.” Your eyes met his, and as soon as he saw the fire ripping through your eyes, he closed his mouth and sat back. He’d never seen you this intense before, and he could also see the tears brimming in your eyes. 
“(Y/N), I have to train. You know this.” He objected. Stubborn. Stubborn asshole!
“You also need to take care of yourself. Felix, please. You just slept for, like, 12 hours straight. You’ve lost so much weight, you need to bathe, you need to rest. Please. Just for today.” You took his hand, squeezing it ever so softly in your hand, feeling around the calluses on his palm. He opened his mouth to object, but seeing the broken look on your face and the tears streaming down your cheeks, he couldn’t just brush you off and get up. He loved you more than that, even if he hadn’t been acting like it for a while, so wrapped up in his training. You were his soft spot. He let out a sigh, picked up some food, and was able to choke it down. 
Relief flooded through you at that. He was going to eat. Going to rest. Going to recharge and stop taking everything so seriously. You excused yourself to the bathroom under the guise of running him a warm bath to take the ache off his muscles, but the whole time you got the water ready, you were sobbing to yourself. You were still so worried about him. So afraid that he would continue down this path of self destruction. What if something happened to you on the battlefield, and he was left on his own? What would he do? Would he work himself to death like he’d been doing the past few weeks? Felix took his bath as you washed his clothes and when he came out and got dressed, you couldn’t help but wrap him in a tight hug and tackle him down on the bed. 
“Promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself. Please.” You whispered. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. He smelled like himself again, a mix of lavender and spice. Felix sighed, burying his face in your hair. If it hurt you this badly, how could he just continue down this path? 
“I promise. I… I’m sorry.” He whispered. How you brought this prideful, mulish man to apologize to you is beyond me, but you were definitely his soft spot. He cared for you so much he was willing to put down the pride and agree with you for once.
You two laid there for quite a while until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms and the comfort of each other’s company. He’d forgotten how nice it felt to have a full belly, a warm bed, and the arms of his lover wrapped around him, keeping him safer than he’d ever felt.
songs i listened to while writing this:
ill be waiting for you by destery smith
cheer up baby by inhaler
the ruse and the caper by coyote theory (haha that’s what my username is. are they called usernames on tumblr. im stupid)
the secret life of me by waterparks
hippo in the water by mom jeans
welcome to my planet by pomplamoose
white trash millionaire by mom jeans
nervous young inhumans by car seat headrest
63 notes · View notes
randoimago · 4 days
Note
hiiii may i request headcanons for dimitri, felix, and claude where they’re comforting the reader when they’re crying ?
Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses
Character(s): Claude, Dimitri, Felix
Note(s): You got it!
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Claude
He tries to make light jokes to hopefully get you to smile. Claude doesn't know why you're crying and doubts he'll get an answer while you're still crying, so jokes are his way to go.
That or holding you as he tells you about some shenanigans Hilda and Raphael got into. Or something with Dimitri and Edelgard that amused him. Just something to hopefully keep your mind off of whatever made you cry.
And then, once you're done, he asks you what happened as he leads you to the dining hall to get some food but also because something interesting always happens in the dining hall that he'd hope livens up your mood.
Dimitri
He sees you cry and he's quick to wrap his arms around you. He's so gentle as he holds you, one hand gently rubbing your back as you cry.
Dimitri doesn't really say anything while you cry. Of course he's concerned and wants to ask questions, but he'd rather you cry and let you speak when you're ready. In the meantime he'll just hold you and be with you.
Afterwards, he wipes your tears and gives a kiss to your forehead, asking if you're ready to talk about it. If not, he doesn't push the issue and will continue to stay by your side.
Felix
He's not really in tune with emotions and is initially surprised when you're crying. But then he grows angry because there's a reason you're crying and he wants to go punch that reason.
Instead he stays by your side while you cry, giving some space. When you're finished, Felix walks closer and asks what happened. He then asks if you'd like to spar to help with any lingering feelings.
If not then he'll understand and be a bit awkward with what to do, but he offers his hand to you to hold. It's a small gesture, but he still tries.
11 notes · View notes
aces-sweetheart · 1 year
Note
Can I request cuddle headcanons for Jeritza Hubert and Felix separately with female Byleth?
as of right now, i write reader x character exclusively so i'll be writing the hcs like that rather than female!byleth x character i'm sorry.
cw: sfw, gn!reader (no pronouns specified)
jeritza
it would take him a very long time to be comfortable enough to cuddle with you (or have any physical contact with you in general)
even when you two finally cuddle he's stiff and restrained and he'll probably end the contact after a few minutes
he just has trouble trusting himself around you and doesn't want to hurt you
but when he's tired he'll be more open to it
your arms wrapping around him and the steady rising and falling of your chest against his cheek is comforting as his eyes grow heavier
hubert
another one who would take some time before he would agree to cuddle with you
he isn't afraid of hurting you like jeritza, he just needs time to accept his feelings for you
prefers to be the one holding you because it makes him feel like he's protecting you rather than the other way around
plus the position allows him to be in control
i feel like he's always cold so he'll keep a blanket close by for you two
felix
you'll never guess what i'm about to say
it also takes him some time to cuddle with you
i'm sorry anon, you picked some distant characters /lh
he'll act like he doesn't like it but you can easily tell he does
like yes felix this must be absolute torture, getting your hair played with as he lays down with someone he loves. that's why you look like you're in heaven ofc ofc.
even if you're very strong he'd want to be the one holding you so he can feel like he's protecting you
he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself but it's still something he'd want
when he's feeling more affectionate/soft (which is rare), he likes to plant little kisses on your head and run his fingers up and down your back
don't mention it though because he'll get embarrassed and stop
127 notes · View notes
fiction-box · 3 months
Text
Blood From A Stone
Blue Lions Boys X Fem!Reader
Hello, my lovelies! I wrote this in an attempt to psyche myself up for these next few days as I will be traveling for a job interview. I hope you all have been staying warm these past few weeks (the temperature has been consistently negative where I am now). I will attempt to start working on my inbox once I return. This work was not originally going to go this far in-depth, but this is where the story wanted to go. Nonetheless, please enjoy!
Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.
After what might have been a ten minute walk, Professor Byleth halted her Blue Lions in the middle of the woods surrounding the monastery. You felt the warmth of the late spring sun shining through the trees; an experience made more pleasant by the soft breeze rifling through your hair.
You and Ingrid had been speculating what exercise you might be coming outside to do, taking an opportunity to make conversation during the walk. Each Friday, the professor enforced some group activity - shopping relays in town, competitive hunting, blindfolded sparring matches - to let everyone better learn the strengths of their classmates.
Sure enough, you watched the former mercenary pull the infamous blindfolds out of the satchel sitting on her waist. A hefty exhale resounded next to you.
“Aw, come on! Not this again…” Annette whined.
No one could blame her; Dedue had hit her uncharacteristically hard in the confusion of his blindness during their match. She might even still be sore from last weekend.
“Now, now - repeating the same exercise two weeks in a row wouldn’t be much help to us. This is meant to build our sense of camaraderie, not our dread for the end of the week,” Byleth corrected. “Line up, please.”
You did so, shuffling into a spot between Annette and Ingrid as your teacher scrutinized the class.
Dimitri caught a green bandana in the same second Dedue was handed a brown one. Green for Ashe and Mercedes, brown for you and Annette.
“Teams,” Dedue noted.
“Please tie them around your foreheads. I’ll explain in a moment.”
A brown scrap of fabric landed in Felix’s palm, the bluenette bringing it to his forehead before Ingrid and Sylvain received their green cloths. Silently cheering, you watched Professor Byleth fix the final brown textile to her own head.
“Today’s activity focuses on both stealth and strategy. Everyone received a color responding to their team. Your objective is to steal all of your opponents’ headbands - the first team to lose all of which will lose.”
Immediately, Sylvain reached over Ashe’s head to pull Felix’s bandana off his head, dangling it in the air.
“One down, everyone!”
“You know damn well we haven’t started yet!” the swordsman snapped.
Dimitri grinned, “I must say Felix, I never saw you as someone to be so easily caught off your guard.”
Ingrid hardly held back a snicker, Ashe’s body practically trembling with a similar sentiment as he reflexively moved out of the way of the two nobles.
Felix clenched his hands into fists, “I’ll tear that cloth into tatters while it’s still wrapped around your insolent-”
“That’s quite enough.”
Professor Byleth eyed Sylvain, prompting him to quickly return Felix’s band. Not without receiving a moderate punch to the arm in retaliation, of course.
“The forest will be split down the middle in regards to starting positions. Those with green bands will begin on the east while brown will start on the west. Each team will be given one minute to conceal themselves, come up with a plan, and do anything else they see fit before I sound the whistle.”
“Your opponents’ accessories can be taken by any means necessary. While use of stealth is encouraged, feel free to use weapons and other advantages as you see fit. The goal is to win, first and foremost. Once you are eliminated, you are to return here until we finish.”
“Prepare to sit on your ass for fifteen minutes, boar.”
You couldn’t help the sound that came out of you at that. Dimitri’s eyes flashed over to discern your reaction before his face promptly flushed a light hue of pink.
“Wh- Sylvain took your headband, not me!”
The redhead frowned, lightly ghosting his hand over his new injury, “Throwing me to the wolves so quickly, your Highness? Maybe-”
“Oh, enough already,” Byleth huffed. “Off to the woods with you all. Right now. Sixty seconds!”
Newly motivated by the time constraint, everyone shifted to group up before rushing to their respective sides.
You weaved between the trees, Professor Byleth following close behind as you trailed Dedue and Annette. Not long after you reached a central-western location, Felix instantly pulled the two in front of you aside.
“...-ce at the northern end of the forest where the dirt is…”
A bit confused, you shifted your eyes to meet those of your professor. Apparently, neither of you were invited to this strategy meeting.
That meant you weren’t needed then, right?
It was all the same to you. Better than the same, actually; an archer flying solo on a stealth mission in the woods didn’t sound like a terrible assignment in the least.
To top it all off, Professor Byleth on her own elsewhere in the forest at the same time? The anticipation would surely kill you. Maybe you would even see her skills more personally than you had on the few traditional battlefields your class fought on so far.
You were brought back to the present as your professor turned to you in real life, nodding at you before slipping into the shadow of a thick tree.
Sticking around just a little longer, you gathered enough snippets of Felix’s conversation to understand his plan. He wanted to make a hole in the ground on the northern side large enough to hold as many members of the opposing side as possible. It sounded a bit ambitious, but you supposed that was nothing new concerning the second son.
In any case, your team seemed to masquerade as the better part of a mess. You wondered how things were with Ingrid…
…45, 46, 47…
After a moment, you strengthened your resolve. The best way to see what the other team was up to would be to go see for yourself, right?
Swiftly working your way counterclockwise around the forest, you snuck over to the eastern side, crossing over only upon hearing a shrill note knocking against the trees. It was now imperative to stay hidden in whatever darkness would conceal you. Having a bow certainly made this easier in terms of mobility since you could just sling it across your body.
Even the animals seemed quiet. Accordingly, you were on high alert. Your movements became more careful, more deliberate as your heart began to race in anticipation. No stepping on branches or leaves; just grass and dirt. No bumping against the trees or sudden movements; just liquid flow and shady cover. Soft, swift, and silent.
Once you believed yourself to have rounded the terrain far enough, you stopped, climbing the tree with the best vantage point in the area and scanning the shady path where your opponents must have started. That is, if the ruined leaves on the ground served as any clue. Prepared for action, you took your bow off your back and pulled an arrow out of the slim training quiver you had been given. Patience was a game you were sure to win, especially in such a good position.
Nothing happened, though. You detected no movement, no flash of colors, and you eventually concluded that the other group must have had a similar idea. After all, most people are right handed, so they might have felt more comfortable countering on the northern side than from the south.
You were somewhat discouraged at your failure to help, but it was no big deal. Especially not when you heard the sound of branches snapping back the way you came. Felix’s strategy must have worked - there was nothing else you could imagine that might make that kind of sound. It must have been effective, too; you recalled an offhanded comment he made about Leonie teaching him something about traps.
Resigning yourself to picking off any stragglers that might have strayed from the group near Felix, you lowered yourself from your tree. Perhaps enough time remained for you to return to your side and assess the damages to see who was left.
Progressing back the way you came would be simple enough. Although you were intent on remaining undetected, you heard several branches snapping and some shouting up ahead.
Felix must have really gotten to them.
You grew close enough to the commotion to recognize Dimitri and Ashe’s voices as the ones yelling, but it made no sense. You had hardly moved a few paces past the tree you were in, and you were still circling the southern side of the forest.
Why were they being so loud? Did they lose, or did they forget this was meant to be a stealth exercise?
But that didn’t make sense, either. They were the best listeners in Professor Byleth’s class, barring Annette; there’s no way they would slack off now of all times.
Silently, you crept toward their shouts until you were brought to a wall of greenery. If you went through…
You didn’t have enough time to hide before they came barreling through the bush.
“Woah!” an ambush? And you fell for it, no less?
Ashe’s eyes widened, his natural agility allowing him to dodge you just in time. Dimitri, with no such skill, slammed into you. The two of you crashed into the ground, the prince scrambling to the weapon you knocked out of his hands as Ashe pulled you onto your feet.
“Come on, get up!” the archer begged you.
 Dimitri frantically shot off the dirt while Ashe started to guide you in the direction they were running. You didn’t have a moment to collect your thoughts or ask questions.
The crown prince’s longer legs carried him past you before he grabbed your left arm with his free hand. Your right hand still connected to Ashe, the three of you formed a chain for a moment as Dimitri lent you his momentum.
A terrible roar emanated from the bush where the boys appeared, prompting you all to detach and pick up the pace. The sounds of three sets of feet slamming against the dirt bounced off the trees in the forest. 
Two crest beasts barrelled through the shrubs, snapping branches in their pursuit of you and your friends.
“How?” you pleaded, your legs moving impossibly faster with the new adrenaline rush.
“No clue,” Dimitri weaved between the trees, his breath heavy, “where they came from.”
A wave of terror pulsed through you. All you felt were eyes on your back, on your friends, and there was nothing you could do about it. They approached, so much larger and covering so much more ground.
Naturally, your smaller size and unfamiliarity with the area caught up with your group. The demons pursuing you could simply demolish the forest in their path, but Dimitri could only get so far before his height forced him to fumble through a group of low-hanging branches.
Unable to slow down, you crashed into him, sprawling to the forest floor. Ashe had once again been attentive and agile enough to change course, but you and the prince lied prone on the ground.
A sound of anticipation came in the form of an unearthly squeal from one of the monsters trailing seconds behind you. If you did nothing here, you would surely die. 
Upon noticing Dimitri had again dropped his lance in his fall, you snatched it and flipped over to face one of the beasts, contesting a well-timed snap of its jaw by holding the weapon up and angling it to act as a pike. It worked just well enough to force the creature’s mouth open…
…until the beast’s maw clamped down on the training weapon, struggling over it with you before it splintered and snapped.
Knocked backwards, your shoulders never got the chance to hit the ground. Dimitri had been given enough time to stand, placing his hands under your arms and dragging you back while Ashe shouted from another direction.
The archer’s cries were enough to split the horrific hunting party, though the only thing you and Dimitri did was continue running.
This is hopeless. All our weapons are meant for training, Ashe is on his own, there are no other fighters with us…
“We can’t keep running,”  you breathed, looping around a tree to throw the monster off your trail, “something has to change.”
…Felix…
You curved around the forest, switching to head back to your group, “Follow me.”
The two of you determined that zig-zagging was the best way to outrun the monster, though if you slowed down, you would no doubt be back on the ground again.
Intuitively, you followed the path you were fairly certain Dimitri’s teammates must have taken to get to the western part of the forest. All the while, you silently prayed that your legs would continue to carry you at a pace fast enough that the beast wouldn’t gain too much ground.
Not that it could be helped; you took two strides for every one of the beast’s.
“Felix! Felix, where are you?”
“Felix!” Dimitri followed your lead.
A figure appeared in the distance, his fair skin and blue hair giving him away, “Why the hell are you two-?”
The shriek from the beast trailing you and the prince drowned out the rest of his sentence.
“Felix, where’s the trap?!”
“Shit,” he cursed, though you couldn’t hear. “This way!”
Pushing yourself just a bit further, you forced your mind to ignore the screams of protest from your body. Felix sprinted just ahead of you, his lack of fatigue allowing him to match pace with your adrenaline spike before he rounded a bush.
“Get the professor!” your teammate ordered someone you couldn’t see.
Dimitri rushed past you to follow the bluenette. Upon leaving the beast’s line of sight, however, he was yanked into the large shrub. You recognized Felix’s hand wrapping around your arm before you stumbled into him, entering the branches as well.
“Thank you, Dedue,” you heard Dimitri’s voice next to you, the phrase uttered out between gasps for air.
It was in the split second before the beast rounded the shrub that you turned your head and recognized the trick. The covering on the pit was placed in the path next to the bush you four were in. If someone hadn’t known to stop and take a route through the hedge, they would have fallen through the dirt.
And upon seeing Professor Byleth appear at the other end of the pit, creator sword drawn to lure the crest beast toward her, you recognized how smart your teammates really were.
The pit wasn’t big enough to hold a crest beast by any means, but it certainly did the trick to immobilize it as the monster lost its footing. A well placed strike to the crest stone on the back of its neck shattered the source of its power. You could only stare at the crumbling animal, its bony limbs reduced to dust. The only thing lying in the crater at the end was…
“A person?” Dedue balked.
You moved to get a closer look before realizing Felix still had his arm around you.
“Um…”
Absentmindedly, he released you, throwing an apology over his shoulder before going to examine the woman lying dead in what very much could have been her grave.
Unbeknownst to you, your body was beginning to shut down. Running all that way left you exhausted, and having done so at a sprint certainly didn’t make matters any better. Yet the second you sank to the ground to truly catch your breath, you remembered.
Ashe.
“P-Professor,” you coughed, “...Ashe-”
“...What?”
“Damn, we left Ashe in the forest!” Dimitri agonized.
Byleth’s eyes sharpened, “Understood. I’ll go find him.”
“I’m coming, too.”
“What?” Felix questioned. “No, there’s no way - you’re way too tired.”
“Dimitri and I are the only ones who know where he is!”
At this, the prince attempted to rise from his position bracing on his knees “Then I’ll go.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re a worse candidate than I am - you’re still bleeding from the trees!”
“Bleeding? I’m not-”
“Your highness,” Dedue cut him off, “your chest.”
Certainly, his uniform was ripped in places, blood pooling out from the cuts he received when he scraped himself on the branches, earlier.
“You must not have felt it due to the adrenaline. We should get you to Mercedes.”
Sure of yourself, you began to walk backwards in the direction you came from, “Professor, there’s no time! You have your sword, so if push comes to shove, I’ll be fine. Ashe doesn’t have a proper weapon, though, and he must have been running for a long time!”
Professor Byleth wasted no words, “Fine then. Lead the way.”
As the two of you picked up the pace, she turned to call out, “Be sure to clear that girl out of the pit! Get her to Mercedes!”
The dull ache in your legs became impossible to ignore once you ran back into the forest. Still, through a mix of retracing your steps and following the sounds of roaring and trees snapping, you managed to get close to where you and Ashe had parted ways.
Sure enough, several trees had been reduced to splinters and fallen trunks. The damage created a small clearing, through which you could see your friend. He looked really out of it, the forest around him a mess from the beast’s rage. 
“Ashe! Over here!”
The professor hit the creature a few times with her sword, extending its reach to divert its attention to herself. Recognizing her attempts to hurt it, the beast reared its head and focused its efforts on Byleth.
She had provided enough of a distraction that Ashe could make it to you. Allowing himself a moment’s respite, he braced himself on his knees similar to how Dimitri had earlier. Breathless, the two of you watched your mentor’s skills at work.
The creator sword would wrap around the wild creature’s neck; Byleth’s obvious attempt at trying to break the stone. Each time, the tether was countered by a snap of the beast’s teeth, or her attack missed entirely. The angle was impossible from where she was standing.
“Fall back, you two - I’ll be right behind you!”
Ashe began to protest, “But-”
“You’re both tired, you’ll need whatever headstart I can give y-ngh!”
Her opponent had grown impatient, swiping its claws at the chain of her sword before her next attack could connect. The weapon was yanked to the side, knocking the professor off balance for a moment and sending the weapon flying out of her hand.
“Just go! I promise I’ll be right there!”
Willing your legs to move, you grabbed Ashe’s wrist and pulled him up, guiding him the first few steps of the way. Once he managed to find his footing, you took a position to lead him back to the group in the west.
You didn’t think you would be able to do much of anything tomorrow, after this. The taste of blood stained your every breath, your throat felt dry to the point it hurt, and you were surprised you could even lift your legs anymore. The adrenaline had worn off by the time you left Dimitri with Dedue.
The noise increasing behind you cut off your train of thought. The pounding of paws much heavier than your own feet thundered against the forest floor. Leaves crushed so loudly you could have sworn they were snapping logs, and the veil of the safety you thought you still had was quickly torn away.
What about Professor Byleth? She should have been on her feet, should have caught up to you and Ashe by now if-
“Keep moving!”
The voice next to you startled you almost enough to make you lose your footing, but a steady hand at your back and the sight of a flash of green hair at your side kept you upright.
“Over here, Professor! This way!”
Annette waved her arms over her head, signaling a new location nearby. They must have created a separate trap in the time you had been away.
But why…?
A snap at your backs inspired the three of you to round this new shrub at record speed. This time, you were ready when Dedue pulled you into the bushes.
“Woah!”
You supposed you had forgotten to warn Ashe.
Sure enough, everything else was the same story, just with different people. The Professor pivoted out of Sylvain’s hold in time to pull the sword she retrieved from her hip. The beast fell in the trap upon rounding the hedge, giving her a more advantageous angle to properly fracture the stone, reverting the creature to the body of a young man.
“I don’t understand,” Felix’s brow furrowed, Ashe ducking out of his hold and falling to the ground to finally breathe.
You were beginning to feel similarly. Were it not for Dedue, you doubted you would be standing. Your classmate seemed privy to this knowledge, as well.
“I will bring you to Mercedes.”
A nod was all you could muster while Dedue bent to put an arm beneath your legs, lifting you off the ground. The air you were practically drinking filled your lungs with more oxygen than you thought they could hold, and your resulting breaths sounded almost raspy. Respectfully, you ensured that your head was turned away from Dedue (though it was also to ensure you could get as much air as possible).
Even still, you managed to catch the final words of those behind you.
“Why didn’t you just take that girl to Mercedes and reuse the last trap?” Professor Byleth wondered.
“Well…” Sylvain, “there wasn’t really a point...she was already dead.”
“...then…this boy…?”
You tried not to focus on the silence that followed her final question.
A few paces later and Dedue had made it to the outskirts of the woods. It was where you all met at the beginning of the exercise.
Mercedes approached the two of you before you cleared the trees, guiding Dedue to set you down on a patch of soft grass in the shade next to three green scraps of fabric. She must have anticipated your arrival.
“Will she be alright?”
“Oh, yes,” Mercedes assured him, though her light tone didn’t match the furrow of her brows. “She’s mostly dealing with fatigue, but the strain on her lungs should be soothed before she tries to go anywhere.”
A moment of silence.
“Where is his Highness?”
The glow of soft magic hovered over you before you felt inclined to close your eyes. You tried not to focus on the strange feeling coursing through you - you still weren’t used to healing spells, yet.
“He and Ingrid went back to the monastery to consult Lady Rhea about all this.” She sighed, and you felt a pause in the flow of her enchantment, “I don’t really understand everything that happened today. It all feels so wrong.”
“I agree. There should not have been any crest beasts this close to the academy. The knights should have noticed.”
Another pause led to a stronger wave of magic passing through your lungs; it was all you could do to focus on breathing next to this weird feeling, but you opened your eyes just to make sure you were still okay.
 “I will head back to the monastery as well.”
The healer nodded, “I’ll let the professor know.”
“Let me know what?”
It seemed the rest of your class made it out of the forest. Professor Byleth approached at the lead, followed close behind by Annette, and finally by Felix and Sylvain supporting a pale and winded Ashe.
As Dedue filled your teacher in on everything, Mercedes abandoned you to go help Ashe. Annette replaced her, kneeling where her friend sat just a moment ago to continue her work. Fortunately, you didn’t feel like there was much left to do.
“Right. You can head back. Take some of the training weapons with you, please - I have a feeling everyone else will have their hands full by the time we head back.”
Dedue removed the brown band wrapped around his forehead, adding it to the pile lying about a meter away from your feet. Picking up the discarded wooden lance, bow, and sword lying in a pile closer to the woods, he turned and wordlessly took the path leading back to Garreg Mach.
“My bow…” you remembered, testing out your voice from your position on the ground, “I think…I dropped it somewhere in the forest?”
Felix scoffed, “With the amount of trees those beasts managed to fell, I don’t think a bit more wood lying around would hurt anyone. The Church can just buy a new one. They replace training weapons all the time.”
“Take it from Felix, they’re used to broken weapons,” Sylvain grinned. “Repairing a broken bow can’t be much different than replacing a missing one.”
A small huff of air came from the swordsman’s nose at his classmate’s remark. Rather than respond, however, he just turned back to you.
“How the hell are you still awake after all that? I expected you to have passed out by now.”
“Me? Shouldn’t you be more worried about Ashe? Whatever running I did, he ran and then some.”
“He did pass out.”
Turning your head to where Mercedes knelt, you found your friend sleeping on the grass, uneven breaths heaving from his chest.
After everything he went through by himself, you could only think that he deserved to rest.
“Professor? What is it?”
Annette’s inquisition immediately led your mind to drop the subject, turning instead to see Professor Byleth lost in thought.
“I’m just…trying to understand something. Those people that came from those monsters - did I kill them, or were they already dead? How did this happen so close to the monastery without anyone coming to help us? And…”
No one knew what to say. You hadn’t recognized the people that died, not their clothing or their faces.
“Nevermind. We need to head back in case anything else unexpected is looking to find us.”
“That should be just fine, Professor,” Mercedes agreed. “I’ve made sure these two are stable. The best thing for everyone now would be to rest.”
“Very well,” your teacher began circling around to everyone, collecting their headbands to place in the bag she had left here earlier.
Annette extended her hand out before Professor Byleth made her way over to the two of you. Taking it, you attempted to get up only to be frustrated by the fatigue of your legs. A sharp inhale followed by a hiss of pain accompanied the feeling of Annette lowering you back to the ground.
“Yeah…might not be ready for that yet…” you gritted your teeth.
Byleth walked over, tugging the brown textile off your head in a fluid motion, “Sylvain, please help her get back to the monastery. Felix, you can carry Ashe.”
“What?!”
Sylvain barely contained his laughter, approaching you with easy footsteps and lifting you off the ground bridal-style.
“You’re sure you want Sylvain of all people carrying the woman that can’t walk? Or fend for herself right now, for that matter?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of experience with this sort of thing.”
“...with carrying people?” you raised a brow.
Sylvain winked, “...with carrying women that can’t walk.”
Professor Byleth hit him on the back of the head so hard that Sylvain dropped you on the ground.
You landed, reeling with a small squeak and a light curse. Your breath came labored through your teeth from the incidental blow to your legs. Not that it could have hurt as much as whatever she just did to Sylvain.
“Agh- What the hell, Professor?!”
“You and Felix have done an excellent job of changing my mind. I think we would all feel better if you volunteered to carry Ashe back with us, instead.”
Now it was Felix’s turn to fight a smirk, though he was hardly trying. After making sure you were okay from your slight fall, he picked you up in much the same way Sylvain had mere moments ago.
Meanwhile, Sylvain seemed to be making a point to carry Ashe over his shoulders.
The seven of you headed back to the monastery together, Professor Byleth calling off her lessons for the beginning of next week just to make sure everyone was well rested. Annette tried to reason that taking the weekend off would be plenty of time for most of the Blue Lions. After all, you, Dimitri, and Ashe were the only ones that really suffered any fatigue. Your teacher countered that if she were holding class, you three were the most likely suspects to insist on attending regardless, no matter how badly you were injured.
Perhaps you left too good of an impression on the professor today for her to think such things of you. Regardless, you agreed with her, if only to save Annette from the pointed glares of Felix and Sylvain at the idea of rejecting a day out of class.
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frickingnerd · 3 days
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being in a love triangle with sylvain and felix
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pairing: sylvain jose gautier x gn!reader x felix hugo fraldarius
tags: love triangle, jealousy, pety felix, rivalry, flirting
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it's hard to tell which one of the boys fell for you first
sylvain was the one who started flirting with you first, but he wasn't really serious about it right away
felix on the other hand never seemed to change much around you, even after falling in love with you, making it hard to know when exactly he realized his feelings for you
though there is one thing that starts to show that he's in love with you: he tries to keep you away from sylvain!
felix worries that you might end up falling for sylvain and tries to avoid you and the red head running into each other
of course, this only intrigues sylvain as he starts to notice it, suggesting that felix might be crushing on you and keeping you away from him for that reason
though when felix denies that he has feelings for you, sylvain starts to assume you're the one who's in love with him, which only piques his interest
he starts to seek you out more, flirting with you every chance he gets and before he knows it, sylvain fell for you as well
it takes the two boys a while to realize they both love you and once they do, it gets a little awkward between them
both suggest the other one should have you, but both deny as well. in the end, they settle on fighting for you and the better one wins!
sylvain continues his usual flirting with you, often taking you on dates as well, while felix attempts to have more time with you than sylvain, without actually having to call it a date or admit to his feelings
felix also likes to play dirty, telling you small lies like "sylvain won't be joining us today" so he'll have you to himself or he'll cover your eyes when sylvain is does something impress during training, to prevent you from seeing it
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13 notes · View notes
agent-cupcake · 2 years
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Paradoxical
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Commission for the ever amazing and inspiring @furudolove
Pairing: Felix Hugo Fraldarius x f! Reader
Synopsis: You ask Felix to train you. He has a different sort of lesson in mind.
Warnings: explicit smut, dub/noncon, violence, degradation, victim blaming
Word Count: 7.7k
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“Thank you for doing this, by the way,” you said. “I know it’s a drag, but I really appreciate-” 
“I’m not doing this because I want to,” Felix said, cutting you off. 
As far as starts went, that was about as rough as any could imagine. You tried not to frown, wanting to keep your dismay hidden. The idea of training with Felix hadn’t been entirely appealing to you, but it had come as an order in all but writing. And it was practical. Not only was he the best swordsman in the entirety of the Imperial army, he was one of the few that had unique insights into how to fight against the Kingdom. Besides, the two of you were friends. Or, at the very least, friendly. Well, you were friendly to him. And although he was generally a stoic loner, he had never been so overtly rude to you before.
“Ah, yeah, I know,” you mumbled. “I still appreciate it.”  
“Hmph. Let’s get this over with.” Felix strolled into the middle of the arena, swishing his sword with a casual grace. He stopped in the center, turning to you with an unreadable expression. His stance wasn’t aggressive, he hadn’t even raised his weapon. When you didn’t move, his eyebrow quirked. “Well?”  
“Shouldn’t we start with warm ups or something?” you asked uncertainly, feeling quite awkward standing with your sword in hand. At the very least, the two of you had the training grounds to yourself. Felix had borrowed the keys and told you to arrive at night, the only time he could carve out for this apparently tedious endeavor. It had seemed frustrating at the time, but now you were grateful that nobody else would witness whatever humiliation you were about to suffer.
“No.” 
“Right, okay. Do, uhm, do you have any suggestions?” you asked, stepping into the ring. Stars glittered above the towering walls, the moon a mere sliver in the night sky.
“Don’t lose.” 
“I’ll do my best,” you said with a smile, thinking he was joking and more than happy to offset the awkward tension. 
Felix didn’t smile. Lit only by the two torches on either side of the arena, it was somewhat difficult to tell, but you were certain that there wasn’t a shred of mirth in his gaze. “This isn’t a game,” he snapped. 
Your heart sunk and your smile faded, embarrassment forming a pit in your stomach. “I know,” you said, having to swallow down the lump in your throat. “I know that. Sorry.” 
Whether or not your apology mattered to him at all, you couldn’t tell. His expression was entirely impassive, his stance equally unreadable. Facing him, you breathed in and breathed out, eying his form as you would any opponent and settling into a more dominant sparring pose. 
Felix didn’t move, staring you down and daring you to strike. He still hadn’t raised his weapon, not even in a defensive position. Despite that, the confidence that radiated from him was unmistakable. Where you felt awkward and ungainly with your wide stance and raised blade, he was as comfortable as could be with his body entirely exposed. With anyone else, that would be a weakness. With Felix, it was a taunt. He didn’t acknowledge you as a worthy opponent. 
Trying to buy time, you circled around him, sword at the ready. He pivoted to match your movement with steady steps, amber eyes sharply focused on you. 
“You’re wasting my time,” he warned as the seconds dragged on, not attempting to hide his irritation. 
“Sorry,” you muttered. Your heartbeat raged hot and hard in your ears as you prepared yourself. There was no point in delaying any longer. If you wanted his help, you had to prove yourself.
Just as you had been taught, you lunged forward, sword swiping through the air. Felix dodged with sinuous grace, moving as if he knew where your blade would land before you did. Thinking fast, you attacked again, pressing against his evasion with increasingly frantic movements. Nothing landed. He wasn’t parrying, just weaving around you like the wind. Realizing your tactics weren’t going to work, you relented, drawing back. 
Felix’s counterattack came before you realized he had finally raised his weapon, taking advantage of your disorientation to strike at your unprotected left side. You attempted to knock his blade aside, but it was a sluggish movement and the dulled edge met skin. You yelped in pain, reflexively slashing at him, but Felix moved out of your range. His feet were so quick and sure, almost like a dancer’s lithe step. In comparison, you stumbled back like a drunk, your breathing shallow and heart racing. 
“You hit me,” you said in disbelief, looking down at your stomach. The wound was shallow, but it had been enough to rip your shirt and mark the skin.
“And?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 
That, more so than the stinging slash across your torso, took you aback. But it did help you understand. What he intended was trial by fire. You set your jaw, nodding. 
He settled back into his relaxed stance and raised his chin tauntingly. “Again.” 
The next bout went about as well as the first, ending when he delivered a painful slash across your forearm. 
“Try harder,” Felix recommended, pacing the perimeter of the arena with his sword whispering through the air in unconcerned figure-eights.  
Try harder. 
Oh, you tried. 
You had no idea how long you lasted, how many short rounds you endured with the same painful results. He barked out corrections here and there, but they weren’t useful so much as they were insulting. Rather than being impressed by your tenacity, Felix only seemed to grow more and more infuriated by your attempts, his landed attacks becoming harsh enough to draw blood. 
“Stop,” he finally demanded, knocking your sword away with an easy flick. At this point, your arms were jelly and your legs were trembling from strain, it didn’t take much to knock you out of your stance. You didn’t think you had ever trained like this, with such intensity. “You’re pulling your attacks.” 
You blinked at him, making a vain attempt to catch your breath and adjusting your sweaty grip, wiping your brow with the sleeve he’d sliced apart. “I-I’m not trying to.” 
“Of course you aren’t,” Felix responded, clearly annoyed. “You lack the nerve to strike me. As if you could hurt me.” He shook his head with a sneer, seemingly disgusted by the idea. Before you could think of a response, he met your gaze. The weight of the look sent a shock down your spine, the scorn of it withering you where you stood. “Always fight like you mean it, no matter who your opponent is. Fight to win. Fight to kill.”
“I know,” you said, your voice considerably weaker.
Felix’s eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t. Look at yourself,” he said, punctuating the statement by giving you an obvious once-over. “You’re weak.”
Attempting to hide your hurt, you accepted that as criticism of your skill, doing your best to not take it personally. Still, worn out past the point of reason, it was getting harder and harder to control your emotions. “I’ll get better.” 
"You'll get killed,” Felix told you flatly. “You won't last a minute on the battlefield."
You exhaled harshly, physically recoiling from that hostile response. “I know,” you said again. “But I can’t give up. I want to do my part⁠—as a soldier, I have to.” 
Felix’s expression darkened further, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Instead of relenting to your attempt at an emotional appeal, his attitude only seemed to harden. “Do you think you’re brave?” he asked. “Pathetic. You’re slow, unfit, and your technique is sloppy. You don’t have the skill or resolve to win. It’s embarrassing. You have no right to hold that sword, let alone call yourself a soldier. Do everyone a favor and give up before you die a meaningless death. Or worse, get someone else killed.”
Your grip around the hilt of your sword tightened, your eyes prickling with tears. His tongue cut deeper than the blunted sword. You already knew you were weak, that was why you wanted his help. Couldn’t he see that? Didn’t he care? You focused on breathing evenly, willing your hands to quit shaking. 
“I can’t.” 
Rather than responding, Felix lunged forward with a speed you hadn’t yet seen. Yelping in surprise, you raised your sword. Somehow, you were fast enough to block the attack. The cruel sound of metal on metal resonated through the entire arena, right out into the night sky. What you hadn’t expected was for the force of the two blades meeting to send a harsh vibration down the length of your sword straight down your arm. A pain worse than if he’d hit you shot through your bones, twisting your arm and radiating all the way to your shoulder. Crying out, you let go of the weapon to spare yourself a broken wrist, your sword flying out of your hand and skittering across the floor. Disarmed and reeling in pain, you did the only sensible thing and made a hasty, panicked retreat. 
Instead of backing off like he had every time prior, Felix stepped in close to match your escape, burying his left fist in your stomach. That was all it took to upset your balance entirely. The world whirled, all sense escaping you until you landed hard on your back, knocking your head against the ground and all the air from your lungs. 
Wheezing, dizzy from how quickly the sequence of attacks unfolded, you got your elbows beneath you to sit up before your vision even cleared, adrenaline and some form of defensive instinct kicking in. The edge of Felix’s blade was ready to meet you, the tip poking into your throat to keep you from rising any higher.
Tears blurred your vision as you looked up at him looming above you, his image slowly sliding into focus as the dizziness faded. Alarm bells shrieked in your head, pulsating with the pain. For the first time, you understood what should have been obvious. You were in genuine danger. Alone on the training grounds, far away from intervention, he had you at his mercy. What you had previously seen as an idiosyncratic but ultimately harmless attitude now felt rather more like madness, a ferocity that hid behind his inscrutable mask. 
People whispered about that, about him. He had, after all, been the best friend of the mad king Dimitri before he joined the empire. You hadn’t believed the claims held any truth, but now you weren’t so sure. 
Felix’s eyes lingered where your clothes were torn, zeroing in on the exposed skin. You couldn't tell if he was aware of it, aware of the way his eyes darkened, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his lips. The edge of the training sword bit shallowly into your neck, keeping you from moving out of the uncomfortable prone position.
When the silence had drawn on far too long for comfort, you drew in a breath to speak. It hurt, your stomach aching from the blow, but you didn’t want him to know that. “Do you want me to tap out or something?” you asked, a vain attempt at levity. 
Felix’s lips curled in disgust. “Do you know why you lost?” he asked. 
You swallowed hard, head spinning as you tried to think of what answer he wanted. “I wasn’t prepared,” you guessed, hoping that was the right one. 
“Wrong,” he told you flatly. “You lost the minute you picked up that sword. Fighting a battle you have no hope of winning doesn’t make you a hero, it makes you an idiot.” 
“Stop,” you told him, your voice quickly approaching a whine. “I get it.” 
“Do you think the enemy will relent if you look pathetic enough?” he asked incredulously. “If you want me to stop, make me. A true swordsman wouldn’t cower on the ground with her opponent’s blade at her throat, she would fight to the bitter end.” 
The unfairness of it all had your lower lip trembling, eyes stinging all over again. Give up and lose, or fight and lose. It didn’t matter which you chose, he would disdain you either way. You pulled back further from his sword, but the blunted edge just followed you. This was too much. You were sore and exhausted and covered in shallow wounds and bruises. From insult to injury, Felix had you beat. 
But you couldn’t just give up either. He was testing you, daring you to do so. You had to overcome this. Thinking fast, you did the only thing you could think of and kicked his legs, using the leverage to slide out from under his sword. 
Felix stepped forward, stumbling. You lunged up at him in a desperate grapple, meaning to steal his weapon. He registered your intent immediately and, rather than let you take his sword, he tossed it aside. The weapon hit the ground with a clatter and you were back on the dusty arena floor, the breath knocked from your lungs all over again. Felix kept you in place with the weight of his body, pinning your dominant hand with an iron grip.
“Obvious,” he practically spat. 
“You’re hurting me,” you whined, truly panicking now that you were so utterly defenseless. Terrified of how close he was and the implications of this position. 
“Then make me stop.” 
You actually whimpered, fighting desperately to keep yourself from crying. “Please, Felix.” 
His entire body jolted, like the use of his name had electrocuted him. “Shut up,” he said, his voice dangerously low. He backed off a moment later, his grip on your wrist loosening somewhat. “Why are you so infuriating? Most people would just give up, why won’t you?” He seemed to be talking more to himself than you, mumbling the words quickly, frantically. “I should just let you get yourself killed. You’re an irrational and idealistic fool. But I…” He trailed off with a frustrated sound, shaking his head. “It’s your own fault.”
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, senseless guilt swelling in your chest.
He didn’t respond, simply staring you with a look you couldn’t decipher. After a tense moment, he released your wrist, letting you curl your arm against your chest, rubbing at the marks his fingers had left. Before you could make use of your freed hands, Felix pulled you up off the floor by the front of your ruined shirt. You didn’t understand what was going on. The instinctive part of your brain thought it was another attack, and you grabbed at his wrists to try and get away. 
But then his lips met yours. They were dry and gritty, and both of you had sour breath from training, but there was an insistence behind it. A fervor. That was all it was, a harsh press of his mouth slightly offset on the corner of your own. Chaste. Felix pulled away before you could think to struggle, although he didn’t release you, holding you suspended while you pulled at his wrists.
Since you hadn’t shut your eyes⁠—they were wide with shock⁠—you saw his open. You saw the way his expression shifted rapidly, a dozen variations of concentration, anger, and smoldering darkness churning behind his amber gaze before his eyes narrowed, scanning your face with piercing intensity. You said nothing, barely daring to breathe.   
Scowling, Felix released the front of your ruined shirt, letting you drop back down onto the floor with a pained grunt. 
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Everyone else may have fallen for it, but I…” He ran a hand through his loose bangs, shaking his head. “I refuse to pity the weak. You either fight and win, or you don’t fight at all. You have no business pretending to be a soldier.” 
“Why did you…” With a trembling hand, you touched your lips, holding absolutely still rather than struggling like you knew you needed to.
Felix didn’t answer. His weight lifted from you somewhat so he could pull at your shirt again. 
“What are you doing?” you asked, attempting to fight him off as the reality of the situation slowly sunk in, squirming to try and get out from under him. “Please stop.” 
“Begging?” Felix asked, using the scraps of your shirt like a harness to pull you back into place beneath him as you inched away. It ripped further, an ugly sound. “Is that your plan after you’re defeated? You’ll beg the enemy to stop?” Felix scoffed. “I told you. If you want me to stop, make me stop.” 
With that, he pulled off your shirt completely. It was ruined anyway, he barely had to do anything to tear it off. The skin beneath was torn as well, shallow gashes sliced across your ribs and stomach. With real weapons, the wounds would be deadly. 
Felix’s lip pulled back in disgust as he traced one of the red marks with a gloved finger. “This is the price of heroism,” he told you. You pushed his hand aside, thrashing to try and displace him. In response, he dropped more of his weight onto your stomach. You couldn’t breathe. It hurt. You stopped struggling, hoping he’d ease up. He didn’t. Instead, his eyes trailed upwards, locking on your own. “Swear that you’ll give up this pathetic charade and I’ll leave. Otherwise I’ll…” he trailed off and, for the first time, you saw doubt in his expression, quickly chased away by disgust. “Just give it up, okay?”  
The amber color of his irises blurred with your tears. Even still, you could see the fire in his gaze. Anger, maybe even hatred. You should have agreed, even if you didn’t mean it. To do anything else was dangerous, your lips still tingled with the memory of his and your frazzled mind was no closer to understanding why he would have kissed you. Prickling chills rose across your skin in response to being exposed, making the cuts sting painfully. 
“No,” you wheezed, shaking your head and pushing at him with weak arms. “Even if it kills me, I-I won’t give up.” 
“You’ll be lucky if all they do is kill you,” Felix said. “A pretty, pathetic girl in the emperors inner circle would make for a perfect captive. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you?”
“Stop,” you told him, unable to come up with anything more eloquent when your brain was shorting out at the threat. And it was a threat. Despite his words, you weren’t frightened of the potential torture at the hands your enemies. Not when Felix was staring at you with dark eyes and flushed cheeks, his body hot and firm against your own. Whatever he was trying to convey wasn’t in his words, but in the intensity of his voice, in the way he looked at you. There were too many things you couldn’t piece together, too many baffling parts of this situation that you couldn’t make sense of.
“They’ll ruin you,” he said. His sharp anger now wavered with something tremulous and soft, his control fraying. “You’ll die a meaningless death. And for what? Your sense of honor? Your country? That’s bunk, all of it.” Your stomach tensed up, your breath hiccuping. 
“Felix-”
“Don’t,” he told you, low and careful. An admonishment. A warning. “Why can’t you just…” Whatever he meant to say trailed off, his lips forming a tight line. 
Felix pulled the knife from his belt. A terrified cry left your mouth, your body resuming its futile thrashing. He pressed his hand beneath the hollow of your throat to keep you still, pushing the blade beneath the tight garment you used to keep your chest bound and slicing the fabric down the center in one smooth motion. Just like that, no preamble, no warning. Your nipples were already stiff, your body electrified with adrenaline and fear. The cool air didn’t help, its shivering touch worsened by the sheen of sweat on your skin. He looked at you hungrily, like a wolf.
“We shouldn’t… You…” the words came out stumbling and clumsy, your shaking hands desperately trying to cover your chest.
Felix wasn’t paying attention. He scanned your body with an odd expression, not the disgust or anger of before but just as intense. Color stained his cheeks, dark against his pale skin. When he momentarily met your eyes, he ducked away. You wondered if it was remorse that twisted his lips into a frown. 
“Shut up,” Felix muttered, knocking your hands aside. He offered no more explanation, moving down your body so he could straddle your hips instead. The position gave him easy access to your chest. The first brush of his mouth on your skin made you yelp. Without looking up, he pressed a hand to your mouth. It smelled like metal and leather and it muffled any further complaints as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking hard. You pulled at his arm with all your strength, tugging on his hair. It didn’t matter. 
When Felix’s teeth scraped skin, you tensed up, forgetting even to struggle at the shocks of pleasure. So far, you’d been able to ignore the sensation, too caught up in your panic. Now it was all you could feel, sparks of warmth sinking low into your core.
Felix groaned against you in response to the sound you couldn’t swallow back, biting you a little too hard. It hurt. It made you whine, a high sound vibrating through your throat, your back arching because, even with the pain, it felt good. He pulled off, switching to the other side.  
Your hips unconsciously bucked against his, jerking relentlessly, heels digging into the ground for traction. It was involuntary, you couldn’t control your body, or stop it from reacting. Giving up on freeing your mouth, you pressed a hand to your flushed face to hide. You arched your back to get away from him. It didn’t matter. All it did was push your chest even more firmly to his face. It was as if you were a woman possessed, you had no control over your overworked body. Each scrape of his teeth on your nipple had you whining, pleasure shooting straight to your core. Felix was being far too rough, but your body liked it. Responded to it gleefully.
Every thought ended in a confusing loop. Could you stop this? You didn’t know. Certainly, you wanted him to stop. So why weren’t you fighting? Why weren’t you denying him loudly and firmly? Why were you doing nothing to stand up for yourself? Why was he doing this? Why did it feel so good?
He grunted, pulling off of your nipple with a slick sound. Paying you no mind, Felix used his teeth to remove his glove. With his palm still muffling your pleas, his other hand shoved beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. There was some fumbling, his fingers roughly pressing past the outer lips and feeling their way down across your clit. When he reached the tense muscles of your entrance, his fingers slipped knuckle-deep into your pussy. It wasn’t difficult, you were wet. Felix’s entire body stiffened. You didn’t dare open your eyes to see what expression he was wearing, shame overwhelming you.   
“Unbelievable,” he said under his breath, the word coming out harsh, like an insult. You objected, but it was muffled by his palm. His fingers drove deeper into your pussy, exploring your fluttering inner walls. At the same time, his mouth returned to your nipple. It was still sore from his teeth, making your back arch and cunt clamp down hard around his hand. He groaned, doubling down with his teeth and pulling out his fingers to thrust them in roughly, mimicking the lewd motions of sex. 
Rationality fled further back into your mind, acceptance weighing heavily on what little sense still remained. You couldn’t do anything about it. Not make him stop, not deny him your pleasured reactions. There was despair in that, but also escape. 
Felix’s ministrations were artless, but it didn’t matter. The rhythmic thrusting filled the arena with a decidedly obscene squish, his fingertips dragging roughly against your inner walls with each pass. And you were so painfully receptive to it, your hips meeting his hand with a desperate sort of restlessness. When he paused to shove your leggings and underwear down your thighs, you actually mourned the loss of his touch, your mouth open and leaking drool into the leather of his glove. 
Without the barrier, he was able to fuck his fingers into you with even more vigor, adding a third to really make you whine and writhe beneath him. So good. So good, that was all that remained in your broken, tired mind, all you could feel, it overrode everything else, even if it was wrong. Even if you really didn’t think you wanted it. All he had to do was curl his fingers against the spongy tissue inside of you, or graze his teeth cruelly against your nipple, and you were reduced back to the mindlessness of lust. Dripping around his hand, your hips twitching and jerking to meet each thrust, your chest pressing needily against his mouth. 
The cresting waves, the rising tide, pleasure was intense and wet and inescapable in the same way you’d feel facing a relentless oceanic storm. It blazed and coiled and built within you with abandon, existing outside the part of you that understood the grotesque immorality and wrongness of getting off on the unwanted touch. 
Felix pulled off your nipple with a slick pop and you knew he was looking at you but you refused to open your eyes, refused to acknowledge reality as it was. And he hadn’t stopped pumping his fingers into you. Too rough, but you realized too late that you liked it like this anyway. 
“Go on and come already,” Felix said, his voice low. You jerked beneath him, your head thrashing from side to side and eyes squeezed shut as if you had any capacity to escape from this. From him. You said something, but it was muffled by his palm. Surprisingly, he removed his hand, sitting back so it could reach between your legs, leather-covered fingers grazing over your painfully swollen clit. Your eyes shot open, your entire body shaking. 
“I ca-n’t,” you told him, your voice tight and breathless and panicked. That wasn’t what you should have said, that wasn’t the appropriate response. But the truth was that you were achingly close to getting off and you wanted it.
“Really?” Felix asked, and it was mean. Not only his tone of voice, but the way he pressed a bit harder against your clit, grinding dirty little circles against it while his fingers pumped into you in tandem.  
Silent, your mouth fell open, eyes squeezing shut. There was nothing to say, no noise that would convey the impact of what you felt as you came undone. Everything, everything, within you focused only on that sensation, that flare of heat and goodness. Your hips rolled into it mindlessly, your pussy squeezing his fingers as the pleasure rolled through you. Felix didn’t stop right away when your orgasm had abated, only when your body relaxed somewhat did he pull away. 
There was no lingering sense of warmth or endorphins afterward. Just sweat and the taste of blood in your mouth and the dirty, sticky, awful crawling of your skin. You covered your face with one hand, the other attempting to hide your chest. Shame coursed through your veins like poison in your blood. Why did that happen? Why did he do that? Why did you get off on it? You felt frozen. Unable to think. Unable to speak. Unable. Incapable. Weak.
“Hey,” Felix said, ripping you from your thoughts. “Look at me.” 
You shook your head. 
“Look at me.” 
Responding to the threat in his voice, you lowered your hand, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He sat on his knees, his cheeks stained red and his eyes too dark. 
“You’re fine,” Felix said. The words were a statement, but it was phrased almost like a question. 
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Shook your head with a helpless sound and fresh tears stinging your eyes. You closed them again, your breath hiccuping unsteadily. What a mess. Helplessness and despair oozed through you like sludge and you just wanted it to stop. Everything, the world itself. You wanted to be somewhere else, you wanted to undo everything that just happened. But when you reopened your eyes, nothing had changed. If anything, his expression had only darkened. Lust? Rage? 
Gritting your teeth, you propped yourself up. It was difficult with one arm still trying to cover your chest. Worse when you tried to fix your panties and leggings. Exhaustion trembled through your muscles, down to your very bones. It wasn’t just the aftershocks of pleasure and shame, it was the pain from training, the cuts and bruises littering your skin, the soreness in your arms and back and legs. 
Felix stood up, far too composed considering you could see his erection straining the front of his pants. When he held out a hand⁠—the ungloved one, the one that was still tacky with the wet remnants of your arousal⁠—you took it thoughtlessly. He easily hauled you up onto your feet. His strength really was unmatched. Inhuman. 
As soon as you were sure you weren’t going to fall over, you dropped his hand, wrapping the arm around yourself self-consciously. The silence was awkward, but you had nothing to say. It was hard enough to parse what you were thinking, let alone try and verbalize any of it.
“I’m trying to help you,” Felix suddenly said, sounding utterly determined to convince you. Or, maybe, convince himself. “You get it, don’t you? You’re powerless. There are no heroes, only those who are strong, and those who are weak. You’re weak, so you lost.” He scanned you slowly, frowning. “You should have known better. I told you⁠—I warned you. It’s your fault. You’re blind to reality.”
“My fault?” you repeated, managing to look him in the eye. Half naked and raw like an exposed nerve and trembling from exhaustion and his touch, you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying, reacting to it on a base level.
“Yes.” Felix’s jaw was set in a hard line, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Why are you complaining anyway? It felt good, didn’t it?” There was a petulance there, an aggressiveness to the justification that made your head spin. “I could have done anything I wanted, you weren’t even trying to fight.” 
Disgust and despair flooded your system, your vision fading around the edges because that was too much. Too far.  
“You’re terrible,” you said softly. 
A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes hard as steel. “I’m right. Unless you still think you have a chance.” You didn’t respond, didn’t move. Felix rolled his eyes and turned away with a dismissive sound. You had proved his point. 
Violence came over you in a heady flush, buzzing hotly in your head before any sort of rationality could soften its aggression. So you stepped forward on an unsteady leg, your right hand balled into a fist meant for him. Felix accused you of pulling your blows, but not this one. 
Not that it really mattered. He probably expected it, or his reflexes were just that fast. Either way, Felix caught your wrist before you could hit him, his black ponytail flipping dramatically as he turned. The whole thing spanned a scarce few heartbeats, it took longer than that for your mind to catch up. And then you were frantically attempting to pull yourself free, blood pounding in your ears. 
“Let me go,” you demanded, a half tone off from sounding shrill. Felix held onto your wrist with a painfully tight grip, keeping you from getting away. 
“What was your mistake?” he asked without emotion, staring you down pitilessly. 
You shook your head, caught between using your left arm to fight him off and the need to keep your chest covered. For a long moment, all that existed was the amber color of his eyes and the infernal tension. By the time he tugged hard on your wrist to pull you into a hard, mean kiss, you almost expected it. That was the only thing you’d get out of testing him, you knew that. 
This kiss wasn’t much different from the other. Sour breath and chapped lips and a fervency you couldn’t understand. It ended quickly. While your head spun, he turned you around and forced you to stumble forward until he could push you down onto the weapons table. It smelled like wood and metal. The finish was old and wearing thin, the wood grain biting into your hands and cheek.
He shoved your leggings further down your thighs, waking up some sort of impulse within you that rejected this. Felix slapped your hands away when you tried to cover your bare pussy, keeping you pinned with his other hand. It was that easy to deter you. 
“We… we can’t,” you told him. 
“What did you think was going to happen?” he asked, an accusation in his voice. Blame, anger, irritation. This was your fault, that’s what he meant. He had been willing to let you go, but you forced his hand. That’s what this was. Of course you had no answer. 
You heard the sound of a belt being undone, of fabric shuffling. When you felt the tip of his cock pressing between your legs, that was it. Air froze in your seizing lungs, every muscle in your body drawing taut and your limbs locked in place. He drew the head of his dick across your arousal slick flesh until he felt the give of your entrance, or maybe he was estimating from the panicked squeak that left your mouth. He grunted and pushed you more firmly against the table to keep you still as he rolled his hips. You were too tense for him for that to work. He had to pry apart your outer lips and force himself past the flinching muscles, making your cunt stretch around his cock until he was deep enough to rest inside of you without guidance. After that, all it took was a few harsh thrusts to fill you completely, stopping only when his pelvis met your ass.   
 Resignation kept you from struggling, this overwhelming sense of inevitability now that prevention and escape had failed. He would do what he wanted, there was no point in trying to stop it. And if you liked it, if you could get off just from his fingers, how could you even claim you didn’t want it? A part of you merely treaded water, floating in the vague idea that this wasn’t real, that this couldn’t happen to you, that you wouldn’t be in this position. If you were incapable of making a decision, if you were beyond fighting or even arguing, maybe you weren’t even really there at all. 
Felix choked back his groan, pausing now that he was fully settled within you, giving some time for adjustment. Maybe it was kindness, but his discipline was fraying. When your body hiccuped with a little sob, his hips jerked in a shallow threat of a thrust, letting out a sharp hiss from between his teeth. Your mouth fell open silently, wide eyes fixed on the wall. It did hurt, although part of that was your body’s own reluctance to accept his. Mostly, you just felt shocked. In utter disbelief that this would happen. It wasn’t meant to, you weren’t supposed to let this happen. You were strong, you were brave. You were-
Why was this happening? 
Pain and all, having him inside of you felt good, just like with his fingers. There was a sense of fulfillment, satisfying some sort of innate ache within you. If he had started with his dick, maybe your body wouldn’t respond to the pleasurable weight of his cock selfishly seated within your fluttering inner walls. Violation wasn’t meant to feel good and he claimed that this was punishment. But Felix hadn’t started selfishly, he started by making sure you knew pleasure, making sure that you wanted more. That was proof of his point, proof that you had no genuine strength, that you were defenseless.
This was happening because you were weak. 
Taking his time now, he pulled out, bringing an abrupt end to your seemingly endless internal spiral of thoughts. You whined, kept from wiggling away by your lack of leverage. Pinned between Felix and the table, held down by an unyielding hand. He still hadn’t removed the glove, and it was still damp with your drool. Your fingers fretfully searched for traction on the table, your legs trembling. Even pulling out, relieving the pinching pressure, wasn’t what you really wanted because you could feel every ridge, every vein, every private spot within you that he now claimed. 
Felix gave you no warning before thrusting back in, his pelvis meeting your ass with a vulgar clap, both of you moaning at the feeling. His cock twitched as your inner walls desperately tried to adjust all over again and it was such an intensely invasive feeling. The stretch was intimate, a pinching sort of feeling that drew your lips into a line as you tried to swallow down the pained whimper. And the mental process restarted. The shock, the confusion, the disbelief, the inability to understand the meaningful difference between what felt good and what hurt. What was your fault and what wasn’t. 
Distracting you from that, Felix’s hand drifted down between your legs, fumbling a bit before brushing against your swollen clit. It made you shudder, reminding your body of the pleasure from before. 
“No,” you squeaked out, hating yourself for the breathless moan that left your mouth. He pushed away your attempts at making him stop, returning to your clit with purposeful little circles and a hard, punishing thrust. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, although it did nothing to stifle the pathetic whimper. If he only intended to make you feel powerless, why bother touching you? Why bother making you feel so good? None of this made any sense. 
“If you weren’t so damn stubborn,” he said with another thrust, this one less rough than before. In time with the slow circles he rubbed against your clit, it didn’t hurt so bad. No, you could feel where the pleasure would build, hot and intense enough to make you come again. The weight of Felix inside of you was inexplicably good, and the way his cock pressed intently against where you were most sensitive⁠—places even his clever fingers hadn’t been able to find⁠—had your toes curling and fingers clawing into the table. Thinking like that made you whimper shakily, your pussy squeezing his cock as if trying to pull him deeper. Felix groaned, low and honest. It sounded like he was in pain, suffering from the strike you hadn’t been able to land in combat. “If you just listened-” 
“Felix,” you said, trying to cut him off, trying to stop him. But your breathless voice held his name like a moan. It was a moan. He was making you feel good, and you were too weak to fight it. 
He swore in response, hips stuttering. Pausing, he wrapped an arm beneath you, pulling your spine into an awkward arch. The fabric of his shirt was rough against your bare back, but the brush of his lips on your neck was soft. Almost like a kiss, the harshness of his breath was heavy enough to make you shiver, cooling your sweaty skin. His leather-clad hand groped at your chest, pinching your sore nipples to make you really whine. You wouldn’t have expected anything so sweet from Felix, the intimacy of being held like this contrasted dizzyingly to the violence of what he was doing. This was practically the embrace of a lover. 
Felix didn’t seem so inclined to explain, rolling his hips and touching your clit, his lips mapping out all of the skin he could reach. The angle like this was awkward, but its intent seemed obvious. He wanted this to be good for you, in some way. Or, at the very least, you weren’t being allowed to escape from him, weren’t allowed to mentally retreat to some place far away. Your eyes rolled around, searching the hauntingly empty training grounds for some sort of help, some anchor to pull you out from this, but there was nothing. Nobody. Only the stars were witness. Only the thin moon could hear the depraved sounds of skin slapping skin and the wet squelching of each of his uneven thrusts, the noises both of you were making. 
“You’re so loud,” he told you, the shape of the words branded into the side of your neck, disturbing the fine hairs there. Hearing him like this made you shudder, the hot sensation sinking all the way to your core. Even though it was clearly intended as a criticism, Felix sounded hot, his voice a little husky, far lower than normal. 
“‘m s-sorry,” you got out in a slur. “I-I can’t-”
“I didn’t say I disliked it,” he responded, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust that cast away all your best intentions to keep your voice down. You clawed at the arms holding you, grasping desperately at the table for balance.  
“Felix…” 
While you knew that his name would get a reaction, when Felix bit you, a harsh, frightened yelp tore from your throat, the thin gauze of pleasure muffling your ability to react. He inhaled sharply, sucking on the mark as his hips moved faster. This was more of the violence you expected, but you responded to it just as well as you had his sweetness. More, maybe, just because of the sudden intensity. 
Loud, panicked moans were punched from your lungs when he pushed you back onto the table to fuck you properly. The different angle shot white hot through your body, the sudden shock of pleasure far too intense to react to. Or maybe you did, maybe you moaned his name, maybe your pussy tightened like a vice around his cock. There were things that you were aware of doing, but you refused to acknowledge your response, holding with a white knuckled grip to the idea of pleasure driven madness. Only madness⁠—insanity, really⁠—could be used as a defense against the way you cried his name as you came, tight and frightened and anxious and undeniably blissed out. So different from just his fingers, the pleasure hit hard, your cunt sucking him deep with truly sinful sounds as your hips tried to tilt to take more, your clit pulsing hot, hot blood beneath his unyielding touch. 
Felix stopped touching you before you were really down from that high, your orgasm cut short as his hands, one gloved and the other bare, abandoned touching you to grip your hips instead. It wasn’t difficult to understand why. Blood pounded in your ears as his thrusts lost any and all tempo, his fingers definitely bruising your hips. You muttered some kind of denial, stress of the harshness and how perverse it all sounded catching in the fiery mess of your mind, but it didn’t matter. The weak relented to the strong. 
At the very last second, Felix pulled out. You heard the slick noise of his hand working his cock only a heartbeat or two before you felt the hot spurts of cum hit your back. He held you still all the while, his gloved hand keeping you pinned flat onto the table. And that was it. No intimacy, no ceremony. Felix released you a few moments after he ran the tip of his cock over your ass, spreading the last beads of cum thin across your skin, his breathing erratic and harsh. 
He stepped away and you could have moved, could have gotten up, but all you felt was the cooling ropes of cum slipping off of your sweaty skin and the pinching ache of penetration between your legs and this soul-deep sense of confusion. Fabric shuffled when Felix presumably fixed his pants and you didn’t move. You didn’t even open your eyes. All you could do was will the world to stop turning, mentally beg that the universe itself collapse to save you from having to deal with whatever happened next.
Blood roared in your ears, its taste biting the back of your dry tongue. Your legs trembled and twitched. You didn’t want to move, you wanted to disappear. You wanted to never have existed in the first place. 
Felix cleared his throat. You jolted in surprise when you felt the brush of fabric on your back, but you quickly realized he was only wiping you up. Cleaning his mess. Then, awkwardly, he fixed your leggings and underwear, pulling them up your legs as if that would do anything to hide the memory of what he’d done. 
“Can you stand?” he asked gruffly. 
Could you? 
Yes, you decided after a moment. You straighted out and turned, your arms covering your chest. He held out his jacket without looking at you, stipped down just to his sweaty button up. Mutely, you accepted it, glad to have something covering your abused nipples and wounded skin. 
Felix glanced at you, his eyes lingering, before he winced and looked away. “I’ll tell them,” he said. “You’re not fit for combat.”
Combat. Right. The abandoned training swords laid in the arena, not too far off from your ruined shirt. “Okay,” you mumbled. You wished he would go. You wished you had the strength to leave, to escape to somewhere dark and quiet so you could cry. Well. You wished for a lot of things.
He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it with a scowl. The night was utterly quiet, not even the far off bugs daring to intrude on the terrible moment of silence. It ended with the sharp, cruel sound of boots on stone. No matter what you thought you wanted, it still hurt when Felix turned on his heel and left the training grounds without so much as a word of goodbye or comfort. Sapped of anger, empty of strength, and internally, mentally, physically ruined, you did nothing to stop him. 
The door slammed shut.
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