Chapter Text
Felix will absolutely, with no hesitation, punch his soulmate in the face on their first meeting.
No, not because his soulmark said that he did and in some stupid self-fufilling properchy he had deigned to learn boxing, but because of other reasons. Much more valid reasons.
“Still practicing for your first meeting?” Ingrid asks, leaning against another sandbag, dressed in her usual gym gear with her arms crossed. A band around her wrist to hide her own soulmark, not that she needed to hide it. Not when she had found hers and the words were utterly boring and anti climatic.
(They were fucking sweet as fuck words, the kind that can give him diabetes just by being within a meter of them. The kind that makes him want to gag.)
“What about it?” Another punch, he hopes he can get them good in the face. Maybe break their nose, or something.
They would deserve it.
“I’m sure that your words aren’t that bad.” Ingrid’s face was smug. He hated the fact that she had found her soulmate. Hates how suddenly she was the romance expert of their group of dumbasses (excluding him, of course) only due to the virtue of finding her soulmate on monday.
Today was wednesday.
Needless to say he ignores her.
“Oh come on, Felix, I’m sure they’re not that terrible.”
“They made Glenn cry,” he points out. Another punch, maybe a kick or two. That would show them.
“Glenn was like, ten, and is a romantic and will literally cry even if your words were ‘I love you,’” Ingrid remarks, her face still so fucking smug as she adjusts her braid.
“You don’t know that.”
She rolls her eyes, it was an irritating look. “Do you remember the time he cried out of sadness when Dedue’s soulmark was just literally, ‘I can climb you like a tree, please be my soulmate or I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
“Those are fucking trashy ass words and you know that.” Felix feels that he would be the one to combust if he had those words tattooed on his body, so he doesn’t fucking know why Dedue looks at them so fondly. But if he were to guess Dedue would be happy with anyone as his soulmate, even if they were a fucking shameless gremlin.
Which was, once again, sweet enough to make him want to barf.
“They’re romantic, Felix,” Ingrid says, her tone as though she were explaining to a child what one plus one was. “Not that you’d understand romance even if it hits you right in the face.”
“I’m going to romance your face with my fists if you keep this up,” Felix spat.
“How lewd, Felix, I have a soulmate, you know,” Ingrid replies and Felix punches the sandbag harder.
“Shut up, witch,” he spat and she laughs.
He can’t wait to meet his soulmate, to finally punch them in the face and end this one-sided grudge once and for all.
Maybe then his friends (questionable titles, really) will stop badgering him.
Felix doesn’t quite remember when he got his soulmark, sure, he knows the exact date- his sixth birthday, like all children- but he doesn’t quite remember what happened other than that. Just opening his eyes with an itch on his arm and his brother crying by his bedside.
The memory blurs there as he cried as well, like the weak crybaby that he was. Sobbing with his brother even though he had no clue what his soulmark even was. His brother had blubbered something about how tragic Felix’s soulmark was and how terrible his soulmate was, his father had looked mildly concern but eventually waves Glenn off with a, “it’s pretty cute.”
“No, Dad, you don’t get it. Felix’s- Felix’s soulmate is a lady killer! Like the ones from those shows! And he’s gonna break Felix’s heart and- and-”
Glenn had cried harder and Felix bawled his little heart out and it was a terrible event for all involved.
That was probably the first instance of the concept: ‘fuck my soulmate, and not in a good way.’
The second instance comes during school. The other children all bragged about their soulmarks even though half of it was utterly mundane and the other half borderline insulting.
Words like: ‘Hi!’, ‘Wow, did it hurt from when you fell from heaven?’, or ‘Nice flowers, miss.’ Were not romantic, not according to him.
They were fucking fuel for combustion from embarrassment is what they were.
Now the words, ‘Stay still and let me punch you, you bastard!’ Now that was much more interesting. The boy who had those words written across his neck did not look happy though, more glum instead and Felix wondered why.
They were great words and little Felix couldn’t understand why the boy with the light blonde hair and pretty blue eyes looked so sad. Felix certainly would’ve been happy to have those words around his wrist instead of the trashy ones that he got.
Needless to say, Felix made a point to punch one Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd on their first meeting.
Made a point to become friends with him, too, just to show him how Not Bad his words were.
Dimitri didn’t appreciate that very much with his frowny face and teary eyes. His father had given him a lecture, too, since apparently his new friend was his father’s boss or something. As if Felix cared. And after the whole debacle Felix had spent the whole year convincing Dimitri that no, they were not soulmates.
Honestly, Dimitri’s words were so much better so why couldn’t his soulmate just be cool and say something like that?
“You said your words were tragic,” Dimitri says, cheeks puffed like some weird mutation of a chipmunk. It wasn’t the first time he had done this expression and Felix wondered why he couldn’t have a normal friend, one that did not look like a science experiment gone wrong every time he tried to emote.
“Glenn said that,” Felix replies, and moves down into a split. Training was serious business, especially if he wants to beat Glenn and you know, continue the family business.
“You liar!” Dimitri accuses, still- doesn’t the fucking idiot know that it wasn’t him?- filled with all the indignant anger only a thirteen-year-old could project.
“Just because your words are romantic doesn’t mean you can demean me.” Felix moves to stand, not bothering to reason with the idiot anymore, picking out a practice sword from the rack. Shoving Dimitri in annoyance.
“Mine? Romantic?” Dimitri huffs. “Maybe it isn’t your soulmate’s that trashy, maybe it’s you.”
This fucking brat.
Felix throws his sword like a javelin and leaps at Dimitri.
“Trashy? I’ll show you trashy!” Felix roars.
“Don’t hit me just because I’m telling the truth!” Dimitri shouted back punching Felix square on his cheek. He was strong, stronger than Felix and the thought drove little Felix further.
Not only did Dimitri have his monstrous strength he had a cool soulmark, too. How was that fair?
“Screw you and your perfect words!”
His face hurts, damn Dimitri and his strength.
“Perfect? You really did get dropped as a child!”
He hit Dimitri square on the head for that one.
“Screw you- you- you fucking boar!”
“Is that the best you can do? You- you trash can!”
“Is that the best you can do?”
Needless to say, their fathers weren’t very happy to have to break up an ongoing fight between two brats that were too stubborn for their own good.
Really, fuck his soulmate, and not in a good way.
Dimitri met his soulmate one day, while he and Felix were out getting ice cream at three in the morning. To celebrate what, Felix forgot, but he was sure it was valid.
They had stumbled onto a man, Felix couldn’t really make out his features, nor did he care to. But the smell of liquor was strong enough that Felix knew that it would be wise to avoid the man entirely. Not that Felix would approach the man when he was wearing a neon yellow shirt with matching pants.
Dimitri, on the other hand, was a fucking idiot so of course, he approached the man. Trying to help like the boy scout that he was despite Felix’s insistent pull on his T-shirt (because of course Dimitri would try to outdo Felix even now, in the middle of the harsh winter in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but a T-shirt in contrast to Felix’s extra layer of protection because he was not a fool.)
Moral of the story was that Dimitri was an idiot and almost got punched to death, well not really because the punch was weak as fuck, but maybe it should’ve hit so that Felix can later have another thing he can taunt Dimitri about.
“Stay still and let me punch you, you bastard!” the man had screech and Felix winces. Very much ready to just drag Dimitri away and just call it a day. Dimitri was frozen though, looking like a very accurate depiction of a greek statue that he admires so much.
“What the fuck are you-” Felix began before pausing.
Those were Dimitri’s words and that meant-
“Huh? Are you not Lorenz? Whoops. Sorry to you and your twin- haha.”
Oh, that inebriated fool was Dimitri’s soulmate. Because of course.
“It’s- you- I- I- I’m- hello, h- how’s your day going? It’s a pleasure to, um, meet you. I’m, well, um your soulmate-” Dimitri stuttered. And was that the words that his soulmate had his whole life?
Well, at least they were clearly meant for each other.
“Holy shit,” the drunk man said, eyes widening. “So which one is it?”
“Huh?” Dimitri asked, his hands in the air as though debating between a handshake or a high five and getting neither.
“Which one’s my-” The man squinted. “Which one of you twins is my soulmate?”
Fucking hell-
“It’s me,” Dimitri squeaked, because of course.
“Yeah, I was hoping that. You- you’re the more handsome twin. By a loooong shot,” the man drawled, a dopey smile on his face.
What the fuck- what the hell was this bastard on, to be hallucinating like this? What the hell did Dimitri’s soulmate do? Who the hell was he even? God, maybe even Dimitri didn’t deserve this-
Then Dimitri fucking blushes- fucking red cheeks and heart eyes and everything that was terrible in this world.
That was when Felix knew that his friend absolutely deserves the disaster in yellow that was sitting in front of them both. Slumped over and drunk off his ass.
Later, much later when yellow man was finally sober and not hungover Felix learnt that Drunk Idiot’s name was Claude and that he really wasn’t that much of a disaster, spinning a pretty story about a friend (lazy witch, Claude had said) and a bet that gone utterly awry and how his own concoction (not drugs, Claude had very clearly elaborated, just medicine. But Claude was an aspiring ‘politician’ so Felix didn’t know why, or how, the fuck he would create ‘medicine’ but he did not want answers) was used against him.
Felix did not buy that bullshit for one very valid reason:
Felix very clearly remembers, now, that Claude is the heir to the Leicester Alliance. A syndicate that toed between the lines of legal and ‘we really should be in prison by now, maybe for life.’
Felix would know, Dimitri should know- being the heir to the Faerghus fortune, which runs a very legal business (yeah, not really, but it would end the moment Dimitri inherits it, knowing what a boy scout he is.) Felix distinctly remembers, now that Claude had introduced himself, how his and Dimitri’s tutor had warned them of the Riegan family and the Leicester.
Dimitri got warned many times, in fact, and should really remember who is soulmate is by now- but his brain probably turn to mush because he was an idiot who only thinks with his heart.
Felix distinctly remembers how the two organizations detested each other. Blood feud and all that shit. His father had sworn by it, had cried ‘manly’ tears over the battles that were fought.
He cannot reconcile the image with what he sees now, Dimitri wearing a blue apron as he cooks and Claude writing down something in a suspicious notebook as he hums some shitty pop song.
God, what the hell was this? Should he stage an intervention for the sake of world peace?
Ha- fuck no, who was he kidding? Felix didn’t give enough of a fuck to even care.
(Dimitri looks happy, finally, the idiot stopped moping.)
So Felix decided: fuck it, at least it’ll be fun to watch.
Not that Dimitri would care, if Felix were to be honest. Claude could tell Dimitri that he puts his milk before his cereal and Dimitri would still forgive him so Felix was pretty sure that Dimitri will still, ugh, ‘love,’ Claude even if the green eyed man was the heir to the Riegan Family.
Dimitri eagerly ate up Claude’s words, looking like the world’s most eager puppy and Felix swears he can hear Dimitri’s heartbeats from here.
Disgusting.
Claude had looked just as taken with Dimitri and the blush on his cheeks seems real so he supposes he won’t be cracking any bones today but that yellow bastard had better watch his back.
Felix, currently a college sophomore with more coffee in his bloodstream than possible was in a mode his friends like to call ‘serial killer man on the verge of being captured by the police in the finale.’ With his uncombed hair and dark eyebags, sharp pencils laid around the coffee table like a sacrifice to some eldritch god. Very sharp pencils that would no doubt be used as a weapon if anyone even breathed in his general direction.
Needless to say, even Mercedes dared not talk with him when he was like this. Not when his final exam in two days and Felix had pulled all-nighters for three days. Felix was, in all honesty, contemplating murder during the exam to pass or just burn the university down just to graduate already.
Very good plan, Felix had thought, brain addled with nothing but pure stress and body kept up with nothing but caffeine and adrenaline.
But he thinks of Glenn and Glenn crying because his younger brother had committed arson for very valid reasons. But as it is right now Glenn’s tears weren’t enough to stop him from plotting. Instead, he thinks of his father.
His father would congratulate him, for sure, says how he did the same thing in his youth. Pat him on the back and give him a thumbs up like the shitty father that he is.
And Felix was suddenly reminded of why he didn’t commit arson yet.
Because fuck his dad.
He stumbles up from his seat, determined to fill his brain and body with even more caffeine when his feet suddenly decided that they love each other very much and trips over each other.
He falls and-
The ground was surprisingly soft, and warm, and-
And it wasn’t the ground at all.
He looks up to find a man with auburn eyes and garishly bright hair that somehow looks good on him. He was taller than Felix (damn all the giants) and his shoulders were broad. His eyes were shining and Felix wonders who even have that kind of energy and his lips stretched in a decent smile (it was pretty, god it was a pretty smile and with those eyes- how is this fair?) Then Mystery (hot, charming, come on where did his english class go?) Man’s (ridiculously pretty) lips open and then:
“You better tie your shoelaces, baby-”
Oh- oh god no-
“- because I don’t want you to fall for anyone else.”
Mystery Man- trashy, fucking trashy and idiotic and pretty- winks.
Felix wants to fucking combust.
“Haha, too stunned by my good looks and wit? You wouldn’t be-”
Felix punches him.
“I’m wearing sandals you horndog!”
"Holy shit."
The man’s eyes widen then, a shaky smile spreading across his lips, turning more solid as time passes. He was still clutching his red nose but it was as though he couldn’t feel the pain as he smiles at Felix. Smiles like he is the sun and everything good and happy in this world. He smiles and the sun pales in comparison. His auburn eyes shines as his smile stretches into a grin.
"You have no idea how many people I've hit on just for you," the man says, lopsided grin and cheerful eyes.
(It was beautiful.)
How was this fair?
"You know, this would be way easier if you'd worn crocs." Apparently God decided to dump everything on Mystery Man's looks and nothing else.
Who the fuck wear crocs?
(Claude, Claude definitely would.)
"Crocs are shitty," Felix says cracking his knuckles. "And so are your pickup lines."
The man laughs and apparently his vocal chords were fucking gifted as well because it made Felix's heart spontaneously explode.
Fucking bullshit, unfair as hell.
If Felix was blushing it was no one’s business but his own.
(God, even his laugh was pretty.)
Really, fuck his soulmate, and maybe- just maybe- in a good way this time.