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Her body slammed flat against the ground with a resounding thud, and she gasped violently from the force. A low cloud of dust caressed her, settling on her outstretched limbs and in her disheveled hair. The metallic schwing of Felix's sword as it sliced through the air burned, sound waves searing her cheeks and ears. She registered the deadly prick of sharpened steel pressing against the base of her throat. Slowly, she shifted her nervous gaze from his blade to his eyes. They were wild, shimmering with adrenaline and power, darting back and forth between no two particular destinations.
"I have only one question for you, Professor," he sneered. "Do..." He added more pressure to his sword. "You..." And more. "Yield?"
She looked down her torso to focus on the distant stone brick of the walls of the training grounds, measuring her breathing carefully. If she made even the slightest movement, intentional or not, there was no doubt that Felix would kill her. She was powerless. Slowly, ever cautiously, she parted her lips in a defeated whisper.
"I yield."
He searched her eyes for a moment more before finally withdrawing his blade, as if ensuring he could believe her; as if he wasn't the one holding her life in his hands. Standing over her, sword at his side, he nodded and took a step back. "Get up."
She hesitated before wisely conceding and pulling herself up. He was like a wild animal—he can't see you if you move slow enough. All he was missing was a cracked Crest stone, and he would make a fitting Demonic Beast.
Her arms hung limply at her sides. She held careful eye contact with him, looking almost shyly through her bangs, her head pointed downward. Perhaps if she stared long enough, intensely enough, she could get to the Felix she knew and loved. The Felix concealed within this unknown monster.
He had her. Now what?
Felix began circling her, looking her up and down as he made his rounds. "I have finally managed to surpass you, haven't I?" he muttered mostly to himself under his breath. "I am finally stronger than you..." he stopped in front of her. "Aren't I?"
She nodded hurriedly. "Aren't I?" he repeated, tone thrumming with what appeared now to be barely suppressed rage.
She swallowed. "You are. You've proven yourself." Her voice shook. Would that be good enough for him? He resumed his predatory circling.
Byleth had fought countless enemies in her lifetime, between her years as a mercenary and while leading her students. Never before had she felt fear like this. Dark mages, wild monsters, Demonic Beasts, bandits, pirates, thieves, rogues of all kinds, she had defeated. This time, she had stupidly let her guard down—it was Felix, after all, her own student—distracted by a trivial thought she could no longer recall. How had it come to this? How could he have this much power over her? Or... was she allowing it?
"That's right. Though you don't seem too sure." He kicked her again to the ground from the back, causing her to fall face-first back into the sandy dirt floor. She began trying to push herself back up with her hands, only to be met with Felix's boot square between her shoulder blades. She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, in an attempt to eject the foreign dust settling there. Futile, as they instantly popped wide open when she felt Felix drop to his knees behind her. His sword clattered somewhere across the room, and she braced herself to flip around and punch him.
Sharp, cold metal pricked the back of her neck before she could act. His dagger.
Panic truly set in when she heard the telltale clinking of his belt being unbuckled. She couldn't stop herself.
"F-Felix! Please don't act rashly—"
"Shut the fuck up," he growled through his teeth, pushing the tip of the dagger down deep enough to break her skin. She gasped and quickly fell silent. "I may have beaten you in a spar, but the rest of your body I have yet to conquer."
There was no 'correct' response in this situation. Whatever she decided would be wrong in one way or another. If she truly fought back, there was no doubt in her mind that Felix would kill her. If she just took it, submitted herself, what would that make her? Weak? Perverted, even? She might be able to deal with being called weak, but this was a question of pride. Though, it wasn't like these labels really mattered. At least not at this moment.
She tensed completely when he single-handedly tore off her shorts and ripped through her lace tights. The night's chill finally set in, juxtaposing the burning heat spreading across her face and neck. Warmth bloomed suddenly across her rear, after a sharp slap from Felix's free hand. She made an effort to keep silent, providing no reaction to his strike, though she dug her nails into the dirt around her. It wasn't certain that her (hopefully) delusive apathy would make any difference, but she figured it to be her best bet. She'd felt worse pain than this—much worse.
He swept his hand across the area, not in any attempt to soothe the sting, but simply to feel her. His palm was calloused and rough, and brought a frigid bite of its own. He dragged his fingers up her lower back, beneath her bodice, tracing the elongated dip of her spine upward. Felix was uncharacteristically tender as he caressed her, but she knew it wouldn't last.
"I've finally made it here," he mumbled to himself, voice tinged with pride and yet—uncertainty. Just how long had he been planning this? It was no secret he had always intended to surpass Byleth someday. That was a goal of his, something they had even discussed in the past. But to this level... this wasn't 'surpassing' her. This was something else entirely. It had to be.
His hand slid back down, and she bit her lip as his fingers edged between her thighs. He remained gentle, digits slowly moving up and down, pushing deeper into her slit periodically before withdrawing. He was playing on her physiology, attempting to relax her body himself since she wouldn't on her own. She held in the truly unfamiliar urge to cry, aware exactly of what he was doing to her. The purest form of manipulation.
When he pulled his fingers away, there was a brief pause; a brief stillness. A silence, broken by a slick pop as he slipped his fingers out of his mouth. "Interestingly enough, Professor," he leaned down over her, to whisper in her ear. "You taste like fear."
He sat back up and grabbed her limp arms one by one, crossing them over her mid-back. Once her hands were secured, he removed the blade of the dagger from the back of her neck, instantly granting her some relief. He proceeded to tuck it away, likely in his boot where she couldn't pull any slick moves to get to it.
He grunted quietly as he readjusted himself, straddling the backs of her knees while continuing to hold down her wrists. The characteristic sound of skin on skin rendered in her ears, and she tried as best as she could to prepare herself for what she knew was coming.
"I don't believe in self-sacrifice or honor, as you well know," Felix started, swiping the tip of his cock along the groove of her ass. "But there's no power without surrender. And this... you... you're just another stepping stone I need to trample before reaching my potential."
She allowed her eyes to close as he pushed in further, meeting a humiliatingly low level of resistance just as he had ensured. A tiny sob escaped her when he bottomed out with a sigh. "Once I'm done with you, I'll be able to move on to the next tedious, pitiful, worthless obstacle."
He was still for a moment, and a cold chill erupted across her skin when he entwined his free hand in her hair, brittle and dusty. His palm gripped her skull while his fingers tangled in dirty strands, applying pressure and pressing her face harder into the ground.
Abruptly, he pulled out and slammed back into her again at full force, and Byleth shrieked in pain and surprise. She had never felt something like this before. She wondered if it was the added emotional aspect. This was Felix, her student, a pupil she had trained personally and frankly adored, despite his attitude. This was betrayal.
In battle, there was an understanding between participants. There was, strangely, consent. If you don't kill me, I'll kill you. There were really no surprises. Everyone on the battlefield was there to fight, and usually, to kill. Injuries were a necessary consequence. No mercenary was unscarred, and no one's hands were clean. But everything was different now.
Byleth was backed into a corner, forced to the ground, given no mercy, not even a valid explanation. Felix wanted this, and he was getting it. She was... allowing him to get it.
Tears finally breached the surface. She sobbed, mind and body overwhelmed with hurt. Her heart ached, deep in her chest, wrought with the excruciating sting of deception. The pain shifted from confusion, to sadness, to anger, to despair. Misery. Salty drops dripped down her cheeks and onto the ground, littering the area below. She had never felt so pathetic in her life, sniveling in the dirt beneath her own junior.
"Don't hold back, Professor. Cry louder. Let me hear your defeat," Felix encouraged, keeping his ruthless pace and driving his hand tighter into her hair. He squeezed and pulled, lifting her chest from the dust beneath. Her upper body formed a painful half-moon shape, and he took the opportunity to move his hand from her hair to her chest, groping her harshly as he fucked her.
He finally slowed a bit, grinding his hips into her ass and rolling his body with hers. "I have you, now. You can pretend all you want that you never craved this—but you will never fool me, Byleth."
Her throat tightened as she continued to cry weakly, leaving her sputtering into the air. "H-How could you do this...to...me?" she blubbered, sniffing and whining miserably.
He pressed his face into her neck, inhaling deeply. "You should be considering why no one else has done this to you yet," he hummed. "No one else has taken this opportunity to beat you... in a completely different way."
What could have happened to make Felix like this? How... What could possibly explain this? Dis something like this even require an explanation? She supposed he must have just been sick from the beginning—and she had been too blind to see it. He had torn down everyone else in his path. What made Byleth any different?
"Keep crying, Professor. I'm raping you, aren't I? The least you could do is fucking—cry for—me—"
He panted, and his pace ramped up again. He was getting close.
In a split-second decision, she tensed and squeezed around him with purpose. Anything, anything to end this. It had to end, she needed it to end. He moaned in her ear, and she shuddered at the feel of his hot breath against her. In one swift moment, Felix shoved her back to the ground, and she gasped as his cock slipped out. He grabbed her sides and before she knew what was happening, he had flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head. Her mouth fell open in surprise, forcing her to make direct eye contact with him.
He had pulled most of his hair down, but a small clump remained tied at the back of his neck. His bangs were loose and draped partially over his face, adding to his beastly and disheveled appearance. He grinned animalistically down at her terrified expression, and maintained her gaze as he pressed back into her.
"I want to see your face when I finally, truly, beat you," he taunted, beginning to slowly thrust. "Don't stop now. Where's that insufferable squealing, hm?"
She couldn't help her chest spasming as she tried again to hold back her sobs, but it was too late to stop them now. She didn't know if she could ever stop. With one hand still holding her down, he moved the other to her jaw, cradling it in his palm. He leaned down, lips ghosting over hers, eyes flickering between her mouth and her increasingly empty stare. To her disbelief, instead of kissing her, he tilted his head to the side and licked at the salty tear tracks running down her temple.
She whimpered in surprise at the wet heat of his tongue dragging against her face, leaving a moist trail of saliva in its wake. He continued tonguing at her skin, leaving her entire body prickling with chills.
"Your tears taste almost as good as your stupid cunt, Byleth," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Make some more for me. Or do I need to give you something else to cry about?"
He hammered into her with what felt like fury. Annoyance, inconvenience, rage. She unwillingly gave into his demands, wailing in time with his thrusts. Please, let this end, please, Sothis, please... save me...
He got down onto his forearms, freeing her hands from their restrained position and intertwining his fingers tightly with hers. He nestled his head into her neck, panting against the stiffened slope of her shoulder. Felix's thrusts grew increasingly shallow, and a spark of hope alighted in her chest. It's almost over. He's almost done. She can make it, he's so close—
He groaned heavily, and his hips stuttered before stilling against her. She tightened her lips into a thin line, eyes held shut, trying to somehow separate herself from the sensation of his orgasm. He all but collapsed on top of her, and she vainly attempted to move her head away as he nuzzled his face into her. She sniffled quietly, waiting. Her tears had stopped flowing for now, but she had no doubt they would be back.
After an agonizing few moments, he lifted himself off of her, hastily tucking himself away and adjusting his hair.
Byleth remained paralyzed on the ground, numb with shock. She laboredly cracked her eyes open, and saw Felix standing above her with a disgusted expression. "I have to tell you, Professor," he spat. "You took it like a true bitch."
Without another word, he left the training grounds.
Everything was quiet.
She blinked her eyes open fully, and stared intently at the row of straw training dummies across the area. Why didn't they do anything? Why didn't they help her? They just stood there, watching silently. Complacently.
She turned her head to look the other way. A sword lay on the ground.
It was Felix's, wasn't it? Her sword... hers should be here somewhere, too. Why didn't she have it? Did one of the straw people take it? Did they take it on purpose? Who was to blame?
Who was to blame for all of this?
She turned her head to the night sky above. The stars didn't help her, either. Or the moon.
Byleth was alone. She supposed... she was the one to blame, wasn't she?
And just as she knew they would, the tears returned.