Knowledge Pt.5

Knowledge pt.5

check out the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Michelle was nervous at the thought of facing the combat the next day. After witnessing what some of her peers were capable of, she felt somewhat intimidated. She hoped to be paired with someone relatively weak to train with.

Lauren was skilled, very skilled, but she didn't fight to win.

It must have been shortly after 7 pm when Michelle reached the tattoo shop where Tyson worked. Unlike the previous mornings when it was closed, this time it was open to the public.

The place was bustling with Dauntless eager to get a tattoo, and as she made her way through the crowd, she tried to find him near the stations.

To her surprise, however, she found Tori busy working on a tattoo for a girl she had never seen before. The woman looked up as she saw Michelle approaching and offered a brief smile before returning her focus to her work.

"Hey, Michelle. Nice to see you here. Have you decided to get a tattoo?" she spoke slowly, too focused on the tattoo.

It seemed to resemble a snake, although from where Michelle was standing, she couldn't clearly make it out.

"Let's say I have," she replied, taking a seat on one of the nearby stools, clutching the notebook she had recently purchased in her hand.

She had already started jotting down some ideas, hastily and without anything specific in mind. Getting a tattoo was more complicated than she thought; she felt very uncertain about certain aspects, knowing that such work would later be permanently inked on her skin.

It had to be perfect.

"Any ideas? Tyson told me you were working on something. Everything okay, Mia, go to the counter and book the last session," Tori spoke to the girl sitting on the chair, who got up and greeted her monotonously.

Michelle watched the girl leave with a dismissive air.

"Never mind her, she's always like that," Michelle's attention was once again drawn back to Tori, who was now setting up the station for a potential new client. "So, let's see?"

Michelle opened the notebook and showed Tori the various doodles she had made. The woman examined them carefully, occasionally making comments. The style was one she had never seen before, and she quite liked it.

"These are really beautiful, unique," she said, passing the notebook back to Michelle. "Which one would you like to do? So I can start making the stencil."

Michelle flipped through the pages until she reached a drawing that Tori hadn't seen before; she had stopped earlier.

She handed the notebook back to Tori, who carefully observed the intricate lines and details within. At the center of the different lines was the symbol of the Dauntless.

Tori furrowed her brows; the pattern seemed familiar to her, yet she couldn't recall where she had seen it before.

"It's like a map of the place, and the symbol marks where the Pit is," Michelle explained, watching Tori's reaction. The woman's eyes widened slightly as she realized the different corridors leading to the Pit.

"It's...wow," she said, genuinely amazed. Slowly, she tried to trace each tunnel, and indeed, Michelle's drawing was accurate. "Do you want this?"

Michelle nodded, and with her permission, Tori went to make a photocopy of the drawing and then create a stencil. She returned shortly, handing back Michelle's notebook. "Give me one, maximum two days, and you can come to get it done. Where would you like it?"

Michelle pondered for a moment. Her arms were too small to accommodate a tattoo of that size; it wouldn't have the right impact.

"Back," Michelle replied.

"I'll let Tyson know," Tori responded before bidding her farewell to attend to a new client who was patiently waiting beside the station, holding a sheet with the design he wanted to get tattooed.

Michelle returned to the dormitories after briefly stopping by the cafeteria to grab something to eat, trying to follow Lauren's advice as much as possible. She ate a couple of hamburgers and a side before heading to the dormitory for a shower, taking advantage of the fact that everyone had gone to dinner.

The warm water relaxed her muscles, and the smell of sweat quickly washed away, replaced by the scent of cleanliness.

She tried to be as quick as possible to get some sleep; she was undecided whether to go to sleep now as usual or actually use the night to rest. The next day, she would have to face one of her peers, and she didn't know what would be wiser.

Michelle riflected on Arlo and Patrik's fight, the memory of the sound of their fists against their opponent still fresh in her mind. She had to be as prepared as possible; sleeping wasn't an option.

She slipped into bed, closing her eyes and falling asleep for what felt like an eternity, but something disturbed her sleep, causing her to wake up abruptly. When she turned to check the time, she noticed the clock was nearing midnight.

She got up very cautiously, trying to figure out what that sudden noise had been, but not noticing anything particular, she assumed she had imagined it, still half in the world of dreams.

She quickly changed into her clothes and slipped out of the dormitory. The dimly lit corridors at night made her feel a bit anxious; it was true. The occasional blue light that illuminated them was not enough to make her feel safe. She remained stiff-backed, ready to block a possible attack.

As she walked away from the dormitory, she heard another noise similar to the previous one.

She hadn't imagined it then.

It was the door of her dormitory opening and closing. The unmistakable creaking made Michelle flatten against a dark wall, not knowing who it could be at that hour. She heard whispered laughter fading away from the corridor where the dormitories were located. She was puzzled by this. Who were they? What did they want? Would she get into trouble if her absence was noticed?

Ignoring such concerns, she quickened her pace toward the gym accommodations, reaching them in record time to avoid whoever might be in the corridors.

As she did every night, she was relieved to find the gym empty, devoid of life, allowing her to train in peace. She wrapped her knuckles as Lauren had taught her and began hitting the bag for hours, ignoring the burning sensation in her arms.

She needed to be strong, to improve her standing.

She was the only one with so few points; everyone else had already fought, causing them to either rise or fall in the rankings. She, on the other hand, had only fallen, placing her below the red line.

She was no longer tenth; she was eighteenth.

She would have to work her ass off to get back to the top, but she promised herself she would make it. She would do whatever it took to climb back up.

Everything.

"Do you ever sleep?" Michelle jumped in place, hearing a voice from the other side of the gym. She spun around to see who it was, not recognizing the voice. She relaxed when she saw Four entering with a duffel bag.

She shrugged at his question, Four must have figured out her routine. "Lauren told me I'd find you here. You should rest, Michelle," Four said, more as advice than an order. His voice was gentle, as if he genuinely cared about her and her well-being.

"I'm rested," she replied, averting her gaze from his blue eyes.

Four clicked his tongue against his teeth, placing his stuff on a nearby bench. "Come here."

Michelle stopped punching the bag and turned to see what Four meant. She saw him standing on the combat mat, patiently observing her.

Confused, she approached.

"Show me what you can do," he said, getting into an attacking stance, followed immediately by her.

Four lunged at her, trying to grab her, but Michelle followed Lauren's advice and threw a lateral punch to his temple, making him step back.

He gritted his teeth at the impact but quickly recovered, continuing the sparring with her. Once again, he was surprised by her agility and speed. She dodged his blows with ease, and she had improved since the first time he had seen her spar with Eric.

She had refined her technique, attacking instead of always being on the defensive. But Four was good, better than her, and after twenty minutes of exchanging hits, he managed to bring her down.

"Watch out for—."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she replied, irritated, getting back on her feet. It was the same problem that Lauren had pointed out to her several times: she couldn't focus on attacking and protecting her feet at the same time.

She assumed an attacking stance again, and it was her turn to launch herself at the guy in front of her, putting him in serious difficulty. Michelle landed several blows to his chest, legs, and even one to his throat, managing to regain the upper hand.

But what she didn't know was that Four was holding back, reducing the force of his blows. He wanted her to improve, to make her better, but without hurting her.

He had to admit, though, she was good. She knew what to do, and it was incredible how she could predict almost every one of his moves. She had potential.

And that's when it occurred to him that perhaps the reason they needed to keep an eye on her was precisely for that, for her potential abilities; a member like her was necessary within the faction.

But it couldn't be just that.

Nearly an hour passed before Michelle started to tire, causing her to lose concentration and allowing Four to bring her down, equally exhausted.

Michelle relaxed on the mat, staring at the ceiling when she felt Four sit down beside her, handing her a water bottle.

"It's still early, it's not even three yet. You should go rest," he said.

But Michelle shook her head, getting up and heading back to the punching bag, ignoring Four's bored look. Why was she so stubborn, he wondered?

Four had to admit that he admired her in a way. He saw determination in her eyes and knew she would make her way through the initiation; she hadn't started off on the best foot, but there was time.

He watched her train for a while, then left via the rooftop, leaving the girl to her thoughts.

Unlike Four, Michelle was confused about why he had come there, only to leave after sparring with her. It couldn't have been just for her; otherwise, he wouldn't have arrived with a duffel bag and left via the rooftop instead of returning the way he came.

As she punched the bag, she felt weak, as if her punches, despite all the determination she put into them, were too feeble. She felt restrained, as if something was holding her back from pushing beyond her limits.

She couldn't give it her all, she knew, but she didn't know how to break through that mental barrier.

She kept hitting the bag repeatedly until she couldn't feel her arms anymore and until the sun began to lighten the sky, illuminating the room. She stopped, exhausted, but she was starting to love the sensation. The burning of her muscles was becoming a feeling of comfort for her.

She quickly headed back to the dormitory to take a quick shower and then go to the cafeteria for a hearty breakfast, but her plans didn't go as smoothly as she thought.

As she approached the iron doors of her dormitory, she began to hear a rather loud commotion coming from inside. When she opened the doors, she understood the reason for the agitation.

The entire room was covered in a black dust that had not only stuck to the walls but also to all the initiates present there. She saw Chloe almost in tears as she noticed that the strange substance didn't come off easily from her body, and Michelle looked for Sunny, who was sitting on her bed with a resigned expression.

She reached her as quickly as possible, ignoring the confused looks and unpleasant comments from her peers.

"Why isn't she dirty? She must have something to do with this!"

"It must have been her, for sure!"

"Where the hell was she? Why is she clean?"

When she stood in front of Sunny, the girl smiled at her despite her downcast face. "Funny, huh?"

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, we woke up and suddenly found ourselves covered in this strange powder. It doesn't come off easily, it stains," he showed her his arm, which was no longer black but gray.

Michelle looked around, watching her desperate companions trying to get the substance off themselves.

On the other side of the room, Chloe observed Michelle with hatred and suspicion. She wondered why she was outside and especially if she had organized this prank, a way to skip the sparring that would take place in a few hours.

"You think?" Connor whispered next to her, glancing between her and Michelle.

"Come on, bro, you can't tell me something smells fishy here! She was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see all of us covered in this stuff, and she's clean," Patrick continued to vigorously rub his face with a wet cloth to try to get rid of the residue.

Chloe huffed, "I agree, it's too much of a coincidence."

The dormitory doors swung open again with such force that they slammed against the wall, drawing the attention of all the teen present. They turned to see who had entered with such vigor, and the room fell into a deathly silence as Eric strode in, followed by Max and Lauren.

He looked around, his expression furious. "Can someone explain what happened?" he said very slowly.

He was trying to restrain himself from shouting at everyone and punishing them for this prank. He was even tempted to make them all Factionless after this. He had never seen anything like it in three years.

No one answered the question until Chloe, convinced of her theory, stepped forward.

She was scared to speak to Eric, especially with his current mood, but she swallowed her fear and began to speak, her voice slightly trembling. "We woke up, and the room was like this, covered in this substance, and..."

"And?" Eric raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied with her explanation. He wanted a culprit, someone to punish for this action.

Chloe glanced in Michelle's direction, who immediately understood what was about to happen. Michelle paled, realizing the trouble she would be in within seconds. She had no way to defend herself.

It was her word against at least three of theirs.

"Michelle was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see us covered in this stuff... and she's clean," Chloe insisted.

Eric's head turned slowly to find the girl in question, and when he did, indeed seeing her completely clean and dressed for training, he smiled.

Shivers ran down ers spine as she saw his smile. It wasn't a good start.

"Oh really?" His tone was strangely light, cheerful, and Michelle swallowed the lump forming in her throat. What would happen to her?

Before Eric could speak, Max intervened. "Do you have any evidence that it was Michelle? Besides her absence from the dorms?"

"No—" Chloe tried to speak and continue her accusation, but she was interrupted by Lauren.

"Then let's not point fingers at anyone, I believe Michelle has a valid alibi for tonight, right?" Lauren turned to Michelle, expecting an answer, and the girl nodded. "Good, then we'll check her alibi now and then we'll see."

"I don't think that's necessary, it's quite obvious," Eric said, annoyed. "Get up, come with me."

Michelle didn't immediately get up, and the boy looked at her, the smile gone. "Now!" he shouted.

Michelle stood up abruptly, following the blond boy out of the dormitory, hoping that at least Lauren would join them. She kept her head held high as she followed Eric along a series of different corridors until they reached a door on the right.

Someone was following her, she heard footsteps, and she fervently hoped it was Lauren and not Max. She needed someone for support.

Eric opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter, and feeling very uncertain, she stepped inside, trying not to turn her back on the boy for too long. Inside was a long table with several chairs, and what made her most uncomfortable was how unnervingly calm Eric was.

"Sit down," he ordered, and Michelle complied, taking a seat as far away from him as possible. But of course, the boy had no intention of letting her off so easily and approached her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw Max and Lauren enter, which made her feel a little better. How could she testify to her innocence? She would have to ask Four to testify for her.

Max approached them, a serious and bored expression on his face. "Michelle, let's make things clear. Did you do this?"

"No."

"Do you have a way to prove your innocence?"

"Yes."

"How?" Eric asked sharply, convinced that hers was a falsehood.

"Four."

The three leaders looked at each other in confusion.

"Explain," Eric ordered, ready to catch Four in an inquisition and dismiss him.

"I was training, he arrived too, we sparred, and then I returned to the dormitory," Michelle began, unconsciously playing with her cuticles.

Max observed her bandaged knuckles and glanced at Lauren, who nodded and left the room.

However, Eric wasn't satisfied with her brief explanation. "Why were you outside the dormitory in the middle of the night? You know it's forbidden, or do I need to remind you?"

"I was training," Michelle simply replied, trying to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to get agitated and give Eric any satisfaction.

She wouldn't play his stupid game.

"And why?"

"To improve."

Eric clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Oh, because you know you're weak and incapable? Hmm, I can accept that even though I warn you how useless it is in your situation."

Michelle remained still, silent, as she absorbed the young leader's criticism in front of her. She had to try not to be influenced by his words; they were baseless cruelties and she shouldn't give them weight.

He was a jerk, an asshole, selfish, and arrogant. She wanted to smash his face in more and more with every inch he approached her. They were face to face, at the same height, his gray eyes against her blue ones.

Max watched the scene from outside, intrigued.

Their staring match was interrupted after a couple of minutes when the door of the room opened, letting in Lauren and then Four, who seemed anything but happy to be there. Eric straightened up, shifting his attention to his peer, ready to hear what he had to say, but Max spoke up first.

"Four, we've called you here to testify that Michelle was in the training dorms all night. She said you were together at some point," his tone was monotone as he spoke to the boy, Eric beside him crossing his arms, waiting for his response.

The boy briefly glanced at Michelle before returning his gaze to Max's eyes. "Yes, that's true" he said.

Max nodded, perhaps a little unconvinced, before letting them both go their separate ways. But it wasn't him who was most bothered by the situation; it was Eric, who watched Michelle's back as she walked away as if he wanted to plant knives in it.

When the door of the room closed behind them, Michelle released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, stopping in the corridor to try to understand what had just happened.

Was someone trying to blame her?

"Everything alright?" Four turned back, not hearing her footsteps.

She nodded, resuming walking as if nothing had happened. She had promised herself not to show weakness to anyone, not even Four; his kindness towards her made her suspicious, the way he interacted with her was different from how he did with others.

"We'll find whoever is behind this tasteless joke, you don't have to worry about Eric," he assured.

"I'm not worried," she lied, a big one at that. Eric's hostility towards her was unfounded; she had done nothing to antagonize him other than blocking his blows during training.

But was that really enough reason for him to hate her? As a leader and coach, he should have been proud of her, happy to see that an inexperienced initiate was able to put up some challenge.

They walked in silence through the long corridors until they reached the dormitories again, where the boys were cleaning the strange dust off the walls, their skin speckled with gray patches.

Chloe's excitement faded when she saw Four return with Michelle, still intact, ordering her to go take a shower and then go help the other initiates clean the room.

She was grateful; she hadn't had the chance to change out of the clothes she had trained in that night, and she felt sticky all over, a light layer of persistent sweat on her skin.

"Keep cleaning, when you're done, meet us in the gym!" Four said before leaving.

Chloe threw the rag she was cleaning the floor with to the ground and angrily approached Michelle, grabbing her shoulder and forcefully turning her around before delivering a punch to her cheek.

Michelle whimpered, touching her face. It was the same spot where Eric had hit her earlier in the week, and the bruise hadn't completely faded yet.

"You're sleeping with Four, aren't you?" Michelle stopped to stare at the girl with wide eyes, incredulous to hear her words. "You break the few rules we have, pull this stunt, and still nothing happens to you. You even skipped the fight yesterday, what a coincidence!"

The room fell silent, and Sunny joined Michelle, standing by her side. "What the hell, Chloe?"

"No, I'm not talking to you!" Chloe was furious, pushing Michelle again, and Sunny intervened to stand between them, receiving a slap from Chloe. "Tell me, who? Four or Eric? Huh?"

Michelle looked at her confusedly and smiled, then laughed lightly. Sunny turned to her sharply, never having heard her laugh before. "Chloe, I'm not the whore here," she said, still holding her hand to her cheek.

"What do you mean?" the girl said through gritted teeth, her eyes frantic as she glared at her with anger. Connor and Patrik approached their friend, passing by the group of boys who had formed a circle to watch the argument between the two former Candor members.

Chloe knew exactly what Michelle was referring to. They were no longer in their old faction, but if anyone were to expose that information, her reputation would be permanently stained. Not to mention the trouble it would cause for the other person involved.

Michelle smiled even more, and the brunette next to her shuddered slightly. Her smile, at that moment, seemed sadistic. "You know very well," Michelle said.

Chloe remained silent, straightening up and returning to her original position, not wanting Michelle to reveal that secret out of spite. What worried her the most was one thing: how Michelle could be aware of what had happened during that school year.

"Stay quiet, and we won't have any problems," Chloe said, turning her back to Michelle, effectively putting an end to the small spectacle that had unfolded.

As the crowd of students dispersed, Sunny turned back to Chloe with a puzzled expression. "What have happened to make her react like that? She seemed ready to pounce on you until you mentioned that!"

"She slept with a teacher to pass the year" Michelle replied simply, heading off to finally take a shower. She left her friend behind, mouth agape, as she contemplated the revelation.

Michelle had stumbled upon the secret by chance, her curiosity leading her to the rooftop of their school where she caught them in the act. She wished she could wash her eyes out with bleach to rid herself of the memory.

If the secret were to come to light, it would undoubtedly spark the most scandalous uproar their faction had ever witnessed. Michelle, however, had resolved to keep it buried, seeing no advantage in its exposure. On the contrary, she feared repercussions for herself, for once again venturing into forbidden territory.

Even as she turned the faucet, the echo of their voices from the adjacent room persisted, but she pushed them to the back of her mind. What lingered, haunting her thoughts, were Eric's words—spat with such venom and malice that they cast a shadow of doubt over her very being.

She knew she had to demonstrate her superiority to all. Yet, the path ahead seemed strewn with obstacles.

After finishing her shower, Michelle joined her companions to help with the remaining tasks. They had already completed most of the work before they headed to the gym, almost two hours later than usual.

Upon their arrival, Four and Eric were already present, standing in front of the board with the names of those who would be fighting that day. Everyone was there, even those who had taken a beating the day before.

"Run three laps as warm-up, then come back here!" Four instructed the boys, who started jogging around the room.

Before joining them, Michelle approached the board to check who she would be matched against for the upcoming fight. She drew close to the board under Eric's watchful eye, who observed her with almost disdain.

"Scared of ruining that pretty face?" Eric's hand shot out unexpectedly, catching Michelle off guard as he took hold of her chin to inspect her face, smiling at the fresh bruise. "Oh, it's already ruined. What a shame."

His tone was sarcastic, and Michelle hated the sensation she felt when his hand touched her face. She wanted to rip his hand away, yet at the same time, the warmth it left behind was something she longed to feel again.

When Michelle saw who she was matched against, she scowled. As much as she couldn't stand Tina's shrill voice, at that moment, she wished she could smash someone's face in. Why not the girl who had punched her a couple of hours earlier?

"I want to fight Chloe," she said, looking Eric straight in the eye, who raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Do you really think you have a say in this?" he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michelle contemplated begging him, maybe it would work. "Please," her voice was barely a whisper, and the young leader's smile faded as he straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it," he said.

"Please, Eric," she said louder, and he observed her, noting her clear eyes and the bruise on the side of her cheek that had broken a few blood vessels in her eye.

He considered her request; she wasn't asking to back out of the fight but to change opponents. He would have said no to anyone else, but his old Erudite mind immediately grasped her purpose.

He arched his lips into a smirk, watching Chloe jog to the other side of the room. It would be amusing to see Michelle take her frustrations out on her companion, especially after accusing her of being involved in the prank.

He turned to look at the initiate in front of him before giving her his back and changing the names on the board. When he turned back, he didn't find Michelle; she had left after getting what she wanted.

"In the center!" Eric yelled, gathering all the initiates. He decided to make a small change to the list. "Chloe and Michelle, on the mat."

Four, who had joined him, looked at him. "That's not the pair or the order," he said, watching the two girls take their positions.

"I don't care," was all Eric said, keeping his eyes fixed on them. "It will be entertaining."

Four looked worriedly at the pair before resigning himself to the situation and watching the match unfold. He couldn't do anything if Eric said otherwise.

The two girls faced each other, Chloe ready in defense, confident she would win the bout. She threw the first punch, but Michelle dodged it, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards her, causing Chloe's fist to collide with her own face.

The girl stumbled back, holding her bleeding nose in her hands.

Michelle felt a surge of satisfaction; striking her opponent's face had given her a sense of fulfillment she had never experienced before. She brought her hands up to her face, ready for a response from her adversary.

Chloe didn't take long to compose herself and launch herself at Michelle, blinded by anger. How dare she behave like this towards her?

For a while, Michelle continued to dodge her blows, careful to observe every move Chloe made. Before attacking, she moved her fingers, as if realigning them after each strike.

She dodged a blow to her temple, but Chloe still managed to catch her off guard, sweeping her feet out from under her. Chloe pounced on her, pinning her to the mat and starting to repeatedly strike her in the face.

Eric smiled at seeing the girl on the ground, finding it ridiculous how it had all ended up like this, while Four walked away, not wanting to witness the scene. It would be hard to get out of that position, especially if the opponent kept hitting you in the face.

"Come on, Michelle!" Sunny cheered, and Michelle, determined not to be overpowered, gathered all her strength. Despite the throbbing in her head, she managed to free one arm and strike Chloe in the throat.

The girl stopped hitting her, rolling to the side with the sensation of suffocating. Michelle seized the opportunity and threw herself on top of her, pinning her down.

Now it was her turn to strike; she felt nothing, a loud ringing filled her ears, her vision was blurred, and her head pounded, but she kept hitting her, harder and harder.

Chloe's hands tried to push her away in every way possible, but by now Michelle had only one thing in mind: to finish it.

It felt as if she were watching the scene from outside herself, unable to stop, but what worried her the most was that she didn't want to stop. She would continue until the last breath left the girl's lips beneath her.

"That's enough," Eric said, observing the scene, Chloe now unconscious on the mat.

He was pleased with what he had seen; he hadn't expected such a reversal, but his almost happiness was cut short when he saw Michelle continue to strike Chloe.

"Initiate, I said enough!" he raised his voice, and Michelle stopped, still not taking her eyes off Chloe's almost unrecognizable, inert body.

She looked up, watching Eric, who nodded for her to move away from the girl. She obeyed, getting to her feet and wiping the blood from her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie.

She was short of breath, and a strong metallic smell invaded her nostrils. Blood.

She left without saying a word to anyone, and no one said anything to her, not even Eric, who let her go.

"I told you, she's capable," Four said upon his return, now worried not only for her well-being but for what she might become.

He had witnessed the final part of the match and saw how Michelle struck Chloe, with pure fury and hatred.

"She's dangerous," Eric said, watching her leave, a smile on his lips. "I don't mind."

That was the beginning of the end for Michelle.

Knowledge pt.8

check here for the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

As usual, Michelle didn't sleep that night, but it wasn't for training this time. She spent most of the night on a rooftop she had discovered while exploring the faction, relishing the peace it brought.

She felt anxious, almost scared at the thought of seeing her mother—if she showed up at all.

She stared at the horizon before her, occasionally scribbling in her notebook. Many found their city depressing and grotesque, with its various buildings and areas destroyed by the war years ago. For Michelle, though, they served as inspiration for her drawings.

However, her intricate designs began to take on a different tone from those she created in her old faction. They seemed to grow darker, more complex, and detailed as the days went by. Initially, she thought it was just a coincidence until she realized it was her state of mind, a reflection of the new reality she found herself in.

Dawn arrived sooner than she would have liked, and she reluctantly got up from the rooftop, heading toward the base's entrance. She stopped when she heard a faint mechanical noise, turning abruptly to locate the source.

She looked around, confused, until her eyes settled on a camera a few meters away. She approached it, swearing she had seen that camera pointing towards the end of the rooftop, not towards the door.

"What are you up to?" she muttered, peering closely at the device. 

The camera swiveled slightly, its lens focusing directly on her. Michelle's heart raced. She had always been cautious, but this felt different—like she was being watched, scrutinized. She stepped back, trying to think clearly. 

Was it a security measure? Or was someone spying on her?

She shook off the uneasy feeling and made her way to the entrance. She had a long day ahead, and dwelling on the camera would only distract her from her tasks. But as she walked away, the sense of being observed lingered, a shadow that would follow her throughout the day.

She raised an eyebrow, unaware of who was behind the camera, and continued on her way inside the faction.

When she reached the mess hall, she was surprised to see most of her companions already having breakfast, an air of lightness and cheerfulness among them. She took her usual seat next to Sunny, who was eating toast and chatting with Max and Tina, both of whom were also in high spirits.

“There you are! I was looking for you earlier. You weren’t in the dormitory or the gym. Where on earth did you go?” Sunny asked, sipping from the mug she held in her hand. “Ready? For the visits? Maybe you can introduce me to your parents! My mom would be thrilled to meet you.”

“I’m not going,” Michelle replied. Sunny's mouth fell open, confused.

“What do you mean you’re not coming? Your parents will be there!” Tina exclaimed, receiving a bored look from Michelle. “You don’t want them to come all this way for nothing, do you?”

Michelle shrugged, lowering her head and starting to poke at a piece of bread with jam, trying to buy some time. A thousand thoughts crowded her mind—the idea that her mother would actually come to the visits seemed highly unlikely.

But if she did come, what would she say? What would she do?

During breakfast, she withdrew into her thoughts, considering all the possible scenarios, until she felt a gaze piercing into the back of her head. She looked up, scanning the cafeteria for anyone who might be staring at her so intently.

“Why is Eric looking at you like he wants to kill you?” Michelle snapped her head towards Tina, who was looking behind her.

“Yeah, what did you do?” Max added, also observing the young leader.

Michelle turned slowly to see Eric's cold, calculating eyes fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, but there was a clear intensity that unsettled her. She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying not to show any sign of discomfort.

"I don't know," she muttered, breaking eye contact and turning back to her friends. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood."

"Or maybe," Max said, lowering his voice, "he knows something we don't."

"Like what?" Sunny asked, leaning in closer.

Michelle shook her head, trying to dismiss the growing tension. "I don't know. But whatever it is, I’ll deal with it later."

The rest of breakfast passed in relative silence, the cheerful atmosphere now tinged with an underlying tension. Michelle's mind raced with questions and uncertainties, the unease from the rooftop camera still lingering. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing, something that would soon force her to confront more than just the possibility of seeing her mother.

Michelle slowly turned to see where the two were looking, and, of course, it was Eric. He watched her intensely, not so much aggressively, but more...curiously?

Sunny scoffed, "Ignore him. He's making our initiation a nightmare. I don't know what you did to piss him off, but I'd be careful."

Michelle nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with the blonde until Lauren distracted him with an elbow to the ribs before standing up and silently leaving the cafeteria.

"I didn't do anything..." Michelle whispered.

"You must have done something. I don't think he's such a jerk to target you for no reason."

"Max, have you seen him?!" Tina exclaimed. "He's a total asshole. He's probably pissed because she climbed the ranks so quickly."

Max furrowed his brow, looking confused. "But shouldn't he be happy about that? I mean, the better people are, the better it is for the faction, right? Not that she's anything special."

Michelle looked at him, feeling a bit offended, and Max quickly corrected himself. "No offense, but there are people with way more talent than you, and yet he doesn't torment them constantly. You even helped him win capture the flag!"

"Ugh! Shut up, Max, you're not helping," Sunny snapped, standing up from the table. "Michelle, are you coming? Our parents should be arriving soon."

Reluctantly, Michelle stood up, ignoring the knot in her stomach as she walked toward the Pit; the chatter and laughter of her companions filled her ears. She distanced herself from the crowd, finding a more isolated, quieter spot.

Within minutes, the Dauntless faction was filled with exclamations, laughter, and chatter, even some tears. Michelle broke away from Sunny, leaving her to search for her parents among the crowd. Various colors invaded the monotony of the faction, like a splash of paint on a black canvas.

Michelle's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Despite her earlier resolve to avoid this meeting, a small part of her hoped to see her mother. The anticipation gnawed at her, mixing with fear and anxiety.

As the crowd continued to bustle, she found a quiet corner to sit and observe, her sketchbook in hand. She doodled absentmindedly, her mind swirling with thoughts of what she would say if her mother did appear. Would she be angry? Sad? Relieved?

Michelle watched as the families reunited, hugging each other as if they hadn't seen each other in centuries. A pang hit her heart; a false hope formed inside her when she spotted a man in the crowd dressed in black and white, with wavy hair and the posture of someone who knew he held power.

She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against, vainly hoping that the man was her father. However, that hope was crushed when one of her initiation companions embraced him.

She felt foolish for believing that her father, who had disappeared years ago, would miraculously return just to see her. She still hadn't come to terms with his absence, unable to accept her mother's words, assuming he had probably ended up in some building in another part of the city, killed by the factionless.

Michelle clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she bit her tongue against the irritation building inside her. The Pit, despite its immense size, began to feel claustrophobic, as if all the air inside had been selfishly stolen by the happy families who continued to laugh and chat.

Her ears felt like they might bleed.

At that moment, she decided that this was not the place for her. She gave up on the idea of searching for her mother in the crowd because, deep down, she knew the woman would never set foot in the Dauntless faction, let alone come to see her of all people.

Unnoticed, Michelle slipped out of the Pit, heading towards the gym she now knew like the back of her hand. In no time, she found herself bare-handed, her jacket discarded a few meters away on the floor, standing in front of a punching bag.

She was overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions, something she wasn't used to. Was it sadness? Anger? Disappointment?

Resignation?

Michelle took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her fists itched to hit something, to release the pent-up frustration inside her. She approached the punching bag and started to throw punches, each hit harder than the last.

With every punch, she tried to channel her emotions—sadness for her father, anger at her mother, and disappointment in herself for still hoping against hope. The rhythmic thumping of her fists against the bag became a cathartic release, a way to express everything she couldn't put into words.

Tears of frustration mixed with sweat as she continued her assault on the bag. Her thoughts swirled in chaos, each punch a desperate attempt to make sense of her feelings. She punched until her knuckles were sore, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but she couldn't stop. It was the only way she knew how to cope.

In that moment of raw emotion, Michelle felt a strange sense of clarity. She might not have her family here, and she might never find the answers she sought, but she had herself. She had her strength, her resilience, and her determination.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

As she slowed down, her punches becoming weaker, she leaned against the bag, trying to catch her breath. The gym was silent except for her labored breathing and the faint echo of her punches. She wiped her face with her sleeve, the sting of tears and sweat mixing together.

Michelle took another deep breath and started again. She let out her frustration, even if it was just for a moment.

“What are you doing here, rookie?” Eric’s cold voice echoed through the gym, freezing Michelle in place before she could continue her workout.

“What does it look like?” she retorted quickly, her fists pounding the heavy bag with increasing force. She imagined her mother’s face as the target, the hate she felt for that woman growing stronger each day. Every thought of her mother brought a new reason to despise her.

Despite the anger fueling her, Michelle stayed alert, now aware that she wasn’t alone. The young leader seemed to have singled her out from everyone else. She heard his footsteps approaching cautiously, his boots echoing in the gym alongside the thuds of her punches.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stop beside her. Realizing the potential trouble she could be in for speaking out of turn to Eric, she decided to remain silent and avoid looking at him. She was aware that her current mood was not suitable for a confrontation.

Eric’s stance grew more rigid. “Oh,” he huffed provocatively, “so now we’re playing the silent game, rookie?”

Michelle finally stopped when Eric blocked the heavy bag with his arm, his piercing blue eyes fixed intently on her. A faint blush crept across her face, and she lowered her gaze, hoping he would leave her alone.

“Hm?” Eric persisted, having clearly caught her full attention. “What’s wrong? Has that little mouth of yours finally run out of things to say, or was it never capable of speaking up?”

Michelle lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, her anger still palpable. “Why do you think I switched factions?”

Eric looked almost surprised to hear her voice and grinned mischievously. “Ah, here we go. The rookie finally speaks. Was it so hard to answer your leader? Or was that too much to ask?”

He shook his head, a satisfied sound escaping him as he finally released the bag and placed his hands behind his back. Michelle, tired of the game Eric seemed to relish, moved toward where she had dropped her jacket. When she reached for it, Eric’s hand intervened, grabbing the jacket and tossing it aside, toward the door.

She turned to face him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You wanted to train? Fine, then train with me. Let’s go.”

Eric removed his jacket, tossing it near where Michelle’s had landed, and then kicked off his boots, gesturing for her to do the same. Hesitant and confused, Michelle complied, wondering why, all of a sudden, Eric wanted to spar with her. Was this his chance to take her out? Was his hatred for her really that intense?

She followed him onto the mat, quickly assuming a defensive stance. “Take off your hoodie,” he ordered, and she complied, letting the black hoodie fall next to the mat.

Before the hoodie even touched the ground, Eric lunged at Michelle, throwing a right hook that she narrowly dodged. She knew Eric played dirty, but she was determined to play even dirtier.

Michelle responded immediately with a direct punch to the solar plexus, but Eric, with his superior experience, grabbed her wrist, twisting it and pulling her into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her neck, immobilizing her.

“You’re fast, but not fast enough,” he whispered into her ear, his voice strained from the effort of holding her in place. Michelle began to feel the air slipping away, her vision dimming. In a desperate move, she drove her head back with all her strength, striking Eric directly in the nose.

The blow wasn’t enough to cause serious damage, but it was enough to make Eric’s nose bleed and free her from his hold. Michelle wasted no time and went back on the offensive, landing punch after punch. Eric tried to regain control, but she had memorized the slight twitch he made before attacking.

They fought relentlessly for what felt like an eternity until Michelle managed to knock him down with a strike to his legs. However, Eric grabbed her and pulled her down with him.

The situation flipped as Eric ended up on top of her, his grip tightening around her throat and slowly choking her. Terror gripped Michelle as she realized her initial suspicion wasn't far off the mark.

She fought desperately to reverse the situation, but Eric was significantly larger and stronger. As the black spots began to cloud her vision, she repeatedly struck Eric's arm, praying he would relent. To her immense relief, the young leader finally loosened his grip on her neck.

Michelle scrambled away, propping herself up on her elbows and coughing violently. She stayed in that position for a few seconds, catching her breath, until she felt Eric rise and watch her. “Do you surrender?” he challenged, his tone taunting.

She shook her head, resolute not to give in. She heard his footsteps muffled by the mat as he approached; Eric was trying to catch her off guard while she was still on the ground. As he grabbed her hair to resume the fight, Michelle swiftly pulled a small dagger hidden in the lining of her pants.

With a quick, decisive motion, she shoved Eric’s arm aside and lunged at him, determined to use every means at her disposal to win. Gripping the cold metal of the dagger firmly in her sweaty hand, Michelle prepared herself to confront Eric, ready to turn the fight in her favor.

With a quick and precise motion, Michelle aimed the dagger at the exposed flank of her opponent. But Eric, reacting instinctively, blocked her arm halfway. A moment of stalemate followed as the two faced each other, breathing heavily in the charged atmosphere.

Eric’s eyes burned with fury, but there was also a glimmer of admiration for her resolve. Michelle, on her part, showed no hesitation; her eyes were ablaze with fierce determination.

With supreme effort, Michelle managed to free the dagger from Eric’s grasp and pressed on with her assault. This time, she aimed directly at his chest. Eric, skilled in close combat, managed to deflect the blow with his arm, leaving a shallow cut along his forearm.

The fight raged on, both combatants giving their all. Every move was calculated and brutal. Eric tried to regain control, attempting to overpower Michelle with his superior strength, but she refused to give an inch. Every attack was met with ferocity, every hold countered with determination.

In a moment of distraction, Eric failed to block Michelle’s next move. She repeated the same maneuver he had used earlier, forcing him against her chest and pressing the dagger’s blade against his throat.

Eric froze in place. “Not fast enough?” she whispered in his ear, releasing her grip soon after, panting heavily, and stepping off the mat, signaling that the sparring session was over.

“Playing dirty, initiate?” Eric asked in a serious tone, though Michelle could sense a hint of amusement in his voice. She shrugged, turning her back on him, and bent down to grab a water bottle from one of the benches.

She tossed him a bottle, which he caught and drank from as if he were parched.

Michelle returned to the mat, sitting down and continuing to sip from her own bottle, ignoring the sharp gaze Eric fixed on her. “I have to admit, you surprised me, initiate.”

“I have a name,” Michelle responded tersely, noting that since joining the faction, Eric had yet to use her name.

Eric chuckled bitterly, surprisingly sitting down next to her. “I’ll call you whatever I please, initiate,” he emphasized the last word, a bit disappointed by her lack of reaction. Clearing his throat, he tossed the empty water bottle a few feet away. “You didn’t answer the question I asked.”

Michelle turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, initiate? Shouldn’t you be with your parents, pretending to be the picture-perfect family, ignoring the fact that you might never see them again?”

She turned her gaze back to the empty space in front of her, biting her tongue, her thoughts seething with frustration. Eric’s presence was a stark reminder of why she was here and not back in the Pit with the others.

“I don’t have anyone,” she said bitterly, catching out of the corner of her eye that Eric was still staring at her, waiting—or rather, demanding—a response.

Eric said nothing, choosing instead to observe something he had never noticed before: a tattoo peeking out from the tank top she was wearing.

The intricate design covered almost her entire back, and Eric frowned, puzzled by the fact that he had never seen this tattoo in the shop, nor this style. “Interesting tattoo,” he remarked apathetically. Michelle turned toward him, finally granting him her full attention, and saw him leaning slightly back, propped up on one arm as he studied her back.

Inside, she felt a flicker of pride and decided to take a perhaps foolish, risky move. She knelt and turned her back fully to him, lifting her tank top and bra with her hands to reveal the entire design.

She couldn’t see his reaction, nor his expression to gauge his opinion on whether he liked it or not. “Is there a new tattoo artist? I’ve never seen this style before.”

Michelle felt a pang of disappointment as she heard his apathetic tone, as if she had just asked about the most boring topic in the world. She felt a surge of embarrassment, thinking she had misjudged the nature of his initial question.

She adjusted her clothes, rising from the mat as quickly as possible, chastising herself for the second time that day for hoping she had finally received a compliment from him.

She didn’t understand why she continued to cling to the hope that someday the young leader might find some sympathy for her. It was a false hope, and she should have done what everyone had advised from the beginning: ignore him.

Gathering her belongings, she left the gym, too lost in her thoughts to notice that Eric followed her until he grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed her against the cold wall of the corridor.

Eric’s gaze was furious. “I don’t know who you think you are, but don’t bring me this disrespect, especially after not punishing you for all the crap you’ve pulled. So either you cut out this superior attitude, or I’ll personally see to it that you’re thrown off the edge.” Michelle stared at him, biting her tongue to keep fear from overcoming her. “Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly, sighing in relief when he finally released her shoulder, which would likely bruise with the imprint of his fingers. She watched him storm down the corridor, turning back toward the Pit, and Michelle hurried back to her quarters, not in the mood to encounter anyone on her path.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Eric didn’t head to the Pit. Instead, he made his way to the tattoo shop, where, upon entering, he was greeted enthusiastically by Tyson. “Eric, getting a new tattoo?”

“Not exactly. Who did the tattoo on the back of the new initiate?” Eric asked, glancing around the shop, searching for any tattoos that might resemble the one he had seen a few minutes ago.

Tyson chuckled, leaning on the counter with his elbows. “Well, my friend, I think I’ve done at least one tattoo for every new recruit who’s come through here this year. But I believe I know who you’re talking about. Michelle, I assume?”

“Exactly,” Eric replied nonchalantly, and Tyson smiled.

“I did the tattoo,” Tyson said, and Eric’s expression grew serious. “How come I don’t see this new style of yours on any of these walls? Did she have to do you a favor to get something done by you?”

Tyson burst into a rough laugh, shaking his head. Eric didn’t appreciate the humor. “No, Eric. The reason you don’t see one of my new ‘masterpieces’”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“is quite simple. Yes, I did the tattoo, but the design isn’t mine.”

“I don’t have time for these guessing games, Tyson,” Eric replied, frustrated. Tyson, sensing Eric’s mood, restrained his amusement and looked at him calmly.

“She designed it herself,” Tyson said. Seeing Eric raise his eyebrows, he nodded. “She came in and asked if it was possible to do a tattoo if she provided a specific design. Of course, we said yes. That’s why it’s not on display; she designed it herself. The girl’s got talent. I have to admit, I hope she’ll come work here... we could use some innovation.”

Eric nodded and left the tattoo shop, giving a brief nod to Tyson behind the counter. He went back to his own affairs, though inside he didn’t want to admit that he wanted a tattoo as cool as the one Michelle had. Especially since he’d have to ask her directly for a favor.

A month had passed since the beginning of the initiation, and as the first module came to an end, Michelle had managed to secure third place in the rankings, savoring the satisfaction of having improved day by day.

She ignored the gnawing emptiness in her stomach that had formed after her last interaction with Eric over a week ago and concluded that she must be a masochist for continuing to seek the young leader's attention amidst the crowd, fully aware that each encounter ended with her being hurt physically or emotionally.

In the end, she couldn't let it bother her too much; she needed to focus on climbing even higher in the rankings to prove to everyone that she was better than they were. It was a personal satisfaction that grew each day with every fight she won and every compliment Four gave her.

That day, everyone gathered in the massive gym, forming a semi-circle with Four in front of them and Eric standing a meter away, casually flicking a throwing knife between his fingers as if it were a feather.

“Today marks the end of the first module, and anyone below the red line will be eliminated tonight. So, I suggest you spend these last hours with the friends you won’t be seeing again,” he said, surveying the reduced group of initiates. “The second module, as mentioned, will be mental and likely the most exhausting, so take advantage of these days off to rest. We’ll see you again on Monday.”

Michelle heard someone sobbing behind her but remained still, staring at the ranking list pinned to the wall instead of following her peers out of the gym. She felt an embrace from the side and immediately recognized Sunny’s familiar scent, wrapping her arm around her friend’s waist in return.

Sunny’s excitement was palpable, and Michelle couldn’t help but grin. “We did it!” Sunny exclaimed, hugging her tightly. Michelle rested her head on Sunny’s shoulder, soaking up the positive energy radiating from her friend.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t celebrate so soon,” a voice that was all too familiar made Michelle spin around sharply, coming face-to-face with Eric’s sadistic smirk. “The next module is just as tough, if not tougher. I wouldn’t be surprised to see one of you”—he looked at Sunny—“not make it.”

Michelle stepped away from Sunny and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her out of the gym in an attempt to shield her from Eric’s discouraging words.

“What an asshole,” Sunny muttered once they were out of earshot of the gym. “I’ll make it! Come on, I’m in seventh place!”

Michelle glanced at her friend and said simply, “Ignore him,” as they continued toward the Pit, where their fellow initiates and another group had gathered to discuss something.

“…tonight, at nine,” Michelle overheard someone say. As they reached the group, Tina approached them, grabbing both their wrists and leading them toward the clothing stores on the other side of the Pit.

“What are you doing?” Sunny asked, pulling away from Tina’s grip. Michelle followed suit. Tina looked at them as if they had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“We absolutely need to go buy something! Haven’t you heard?” Tina insisted.

Sunny huffed, “No, we just got here. Maybe if you’d let us stay where we were, we’d know what’s going on.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise event tonight, and we need to be prepared. You know how it is—Dauntless here love to throw curveballs.” She grabbed their arms again, this time with a firmer grip. “Come on, you don’t want to be caught off guard.”

Michelle and Sunny exchanged glances, then followed Tina, making their way to the stores. 

Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Tonight’s a party to celebrate the initiates who made it through the first phase of the module, and we need to celebrate, girls!” she exclaimed, starting to dance without music or rhythm.

The two friends exchanged skeptical glances, but Sunny decided to join Tina, eager at the prospect of attending a real party rather than just going out for drinks with friends.

Michelle, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic as the two girls who eagerly moved toward the stores a few meters ahead, already discussing what they might wear to make a good impression.

She followed them quietly, pulling her jacket tighter around herself to shield against the biting wind that swept through the faction that day. The chill gave her goosebumps, and she sighed in relief as they entered one of the stores, finally escaping the cold.

“Come on, Michelle! Let’s go!” Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her toward the back of the store where various party dresses, skirts, and outfits were displayed, mostly in colors like black, gray, and red. “This one’s amazing!”

Michelle looked at the dress Sunny had picked off a hanger, a simple black, form-fitting dress that reached the ankles. She regarded it absentmindedly, nodding at the idea of seeing her friend wear it, which elicited a sarcastic huff from Sunny.

“We’re not torturing you, you know. It would be nice to see you dressed up for once, with a nice dress and some makeup to highlight your features,” Tina commented as she joined them with a couple of dresses in hand. “And who knows, we might finally find you someone.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow, looking at Tina with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Find me someone? Like who?” 

“Come on, it’s just a party,” Tina said, shrugging. “Besides, it's not every day you get a chance to dress up and have fun. You never know who you might meet.”

Michelle rolled her eyes at Tina's persistence, trying to escape the pressure to conform to the social norms of the event. She didn’t understand why it was so important to put so much emphasis on something like this. She loathed the attention, even though in the quiet corners of her mind, her thoughts often revolved around someone.

"Sunny only has eyes for Four, and I’ve got my eye on someone too. You’re the only one missing out!" Tina pressed on, ignoring Michelle’s clear signals of discomfort. "Isn’t there anyone you’re interested in?"

"No," Michelle replied, attempting to shut down the conversation.

Tina stopped and gave her a serious look. "I don’t believe you for a second. I mean, there are so many guys and girls around. How is it possible that no one interests you? I saw you talking to that tattooed guy—older than us?"

Michelle sighed, frustrated by Tina’s relentless curiosity. Grabbing a few items at random from the racks, she retreated into a changing room, finally free from Tina’s incessant chatter. Inside, she looked at the clothes she had picked out and wondered if trying something new might not be so bad.

One of the items was a dress similar to Sunny’s but shorter and with a cut that made her feel like a sausage. She tossed it aside and decided to try on the sleeveless, form-fitting turtleneck and pants. As she looked at herself in the mirror, a hollow feeling gripped her stomach, stirring up memories she wished she could forget.

Struggling to remove the pants, which reminded her too much of the Candor style, she accidentally bumped into the changing room wall with her elbow. She heard Sunny’s concerned voice on the other side. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Michelle snapped, her frustration mounting as Sunny continued to knock on the door. “Why are you in your underwear?”

Sunny looked her up and down with an almost disgusted expression. “And you thought you could wear those to a party?! You really don’t know how to dress, do you?” She took the pants from Michelle's hand and disappeared into the store, returning shortly after with five different skirts. “Now try these on and come out so I can see how they look! It’s so nice to do something normal for once.”

Michelle tried on the first skirt. “Hmm, not convinced. Turn around? No, it makes your butt look flat. Ew.”

Then the second one. “Cute, but it’s too formal and long.” 

“How so? It reaches your knee!”

Then the third. “This one you can keep, it’s not bad. A bit basic, but it actually goes really well with that top.”

Then the fourth. Michelle shot down the critique before it could even start. “I can’t walk in this,” she said, trying to pull down the thick material of the denim skirt, which seemed to lift an extra centimeter with each step she took.

“I’ll give you that one.”

And then the last one. When Michelle emerged from the changing room, her friend’s eyes lit up. She jumped up from the couch and gave a brief applause. “This is the one! Come on, look at yourself!”

She grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and led her in front of the full-length mirror. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Michelle found the skirt really cute. It was her style—black and, although very, very short, it had built-in shorts to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions.

What she liked most was the faux belt, which added a raw touch that contrasted with the rest of the outfit. She felt her friend’s fingers brushing her hair away and didn’t think much of it until she saw Sunny’s shocked expression.

“And when did you get this?!” Sunny exclaimed, staring at the tattoo that covered Michelle’s entire back like an intricate map. “It’s not my style, but it’s beautiful—huge, really huge.”

“A while ago,” Michelle said apologetically, heading back into the changing room to put her old clothes back on. She emerged with the other two girls, ready to prepare for the actual party.

I started reading the Negan story on ao3 but I’m only a guest so can’t comment.

But I just wanted to say how much I loved it! The idea of an older grimes child added to the story is always so interesting, especially at the beginning with Shane and Lori and everything.

Personally I also found it kinda messed up with the whole Shane & Lori thing so I loved seeing Delilah react like that too lol

I’m really curious what’s gonna happen with this story and how things with Negan will eventually be! Will definitely be over on ao3 reading every chapter :)

thank you love <3 i had this story in my draft for months and idk why, but i missed my negan ear and that's why i decided to continue the story! anyway, you will probably like me less when you will keep reading the story becausa yk, things happens ;)

MATERIALIST

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Viktor Krum

-James Potter

-Draco Malfoy

Knowledge Prologue

check out my other works here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 475

Warnings: REALLY slow burn, angst, ncn elements, charachte death, Eric being an asshole at the start, hurt/comfort

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No, how could I be?"

"Come on, Ellie, it won't be the end of the world." A slender, red-haired girl with a face dotted with freckles smiled at her, attempting to reassure her, but to no avail, as she too was gripped by anxiety. "So, it's decided." her smile slwowly fading.

Ellie, gazing at the panorama before her, watched as the city below slowly faded with the onset of night. A gentle wind blew, and she tried to shield herself from its cold by wrapping herself in the white blazer draped over her shoulders.

She shrugged, her voice a sigh. "It was decided years ago, Anne..."

Anne looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes. The looming Aptitude Test would separate them, the friendship they had forged would break irreparably.

They could have lied, said everything would be fine, but in that moment, on the rooftop of the building where they had lived for sixteen years and shared countless memories, they realized it would be one of the last times they would see each other.

The redhead approached her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. Ellie embraced her, allowing a few tears to escape, silently reliving all the moments they had shared together.

But in the end, they had always known. They had become inseparable for a reason, both excluded from the faction that was supposed to be their home, too different from all the other kids dressed in black and white like them, yet at the same time too different from each other to choose the same faction.

Anne was, she was good.

Ellie watched her as she tried to suppress her sobs, hiding within her arms. Her heart was made of gold, rare in its kind. Always ready to help others, hesitant to speak anything but the truth knowing it could hurt someone.

However, the Candor were not pleased with all this caring nature of hers. They were not pleased even with Ellie's silence, especially with her penchant for getting into trouble.

Her mother considered her a disgrace to their family. Ellie's antics tarnished the name her father had built through years of hard work before disappearing, presumably killed by the outcasts, those without a faction.

It wasn't a secret that her mother was more excited for Ellie's Aptitude Test day than Ellie herself. She didn't hide the fact that if Ellie left their faction, she would do everyone a favor.

"I'll miss you," Anne managed to say as she wiped away her tears, her eyes now red and slightly swollen.

Ellie smiled faintly but said nothing, returning her gaze to the landscape before them; the city was fully illuminated now that the sun had completely set, creating a breathtaking view.

"I should go, or they'll wonder where I am. Goodbye, Ellie."

"Goodbye, Anne."

Hi! Could you write a Carlisle x Fem! Or GN! Reader in which Carlisle knows that he and reader are mates but he doesn’t know just how to explain it to reader without freaking her out? It can be angsty or fluffy.

You don’t have to if you don’t want to but thank you for reading this💖

Stay hydrated!!

yes, no problem at all!

You're my half | Carlisle Cullen

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x reader

Warnings: angsty with happy ending, post new moon.

Word count: 1.2k

It was once again that I found myself standing in front of his house, even after struggling to accept his true nature. For the first few months, I couldn't even bear to watch him at work, trying my best to avoid him.

But it was only when he disappeared for months without telling anyone that I realized how important he was to me; I missed his touch, his cold lips on mine, and his gentle caress that I never would have connected to a vampire.

I hid my trembling hands in the pockets of my jacket, trying not to show my anxiety. He had called me, saying he needed to talk to me about something very important and fundamental to our relationship.

I didn't even have time to knock on the door before Carlisle appeared before me in all his beauty. He became more beautiful every time I saw him, like an angel with his blond hair, pale skin, and flawless complexion like porcelain.

The first time we met, I already knew what our destiny would be; it was a strange sensation, I had never felt something so strong for someone I didn't even know.

"Hello, sweetheart," he moved aside to let me in, placing a hand on my back to guide me into the living room. "How was work today?"

He kissed the top of my head gently. "Good, dear. Donna was so worried about your absence," I said sarcastically, mentioning the nurse who continuously flirted with Carlisle in the hospital as if I weren't standing right there.

Carlisle chuckled. "Forget about her. You're here, and you're the only woman I want."

He said the last part with a slightly melancholic look, which made me worry a bit. It took me a moment to notice his unusual demeanor; he seemed a bit distant, and within me, a fear grew that he might leave again.

"Come here," he took my hands and led me to the couch, sitting down beside me. "There's something important I need to talk to you about, love."

Was he going to leave me?

I settled on his couch, watching him carefully, seeing him for the first time in distress. He always had the right words, ready to talk about anything with anyone without any trouble, yet now he seemed troubled.

I remained silent, patiently waiting for him to speak. He averted his gaze from my eyes, looking down at his now free hands, fidgeting nervously.

"I honestly don't know how to begin… It's complicated for me, for us, and I wouldn't want you to feel obligated to stay with me," he started, his voice hesitant.

"What do you mean, Carlisle? Has something happened?" My voice must have been filled with concern because Carlisle lifted his eyes to meet mine, smiling slightly and taking my hands in his.

"No, sweetheart, nothing has happened," he reassured me, massaging the back of my hand with his thumb. "You know, remember, the first time we met?"

I looked at him, puzzled. "Uh, yes, very well," I chuckled. "Why?"

Carlisle sighed, though he didn't really need to. "Do you remember what you felt? What you still feel for me?"

"Where are you going with this?" He was only confusing me more.

He looked away again, his gaze shifting elsewhere. "It wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't the typical love-at-first-sight that everyone talks about, but it has something to do with my nature."

I continued to watch him, nervous and perhaps a bit uncomfortable on the couch. He was making me worry; I had never seen him like this, not even when he confessed to being a vampire.

"We vampires, living for eternity, need someone to be with us for eternity. To not be alone. Each of us has someone out there in the world who is like a lifelong companion, a mate."

I didn't understand where he was going with this, I couldn't see where the problem lay.

"And you are that person for me," his voice was low, almost a whisper, and my confusion deepened. I was happy for him, especially if I was that person.

Then I realized that if I was that person, his mate, he would have to turn me to stay with me. I could die at any moment, even returning home after this conversation.

"So, uh, you'll have to-"

"No, if you don't want to, it's fine," he interrupted hastily. "But that's not what I wanted you to understand. It's reciprocal, as you are my mate, I am yours, and…"

"And?" I became impatient, perhaps finally understanding what he was trying to tell me.

"I'm sorry for making you call off the wedding with Thomas, it wasn't my intention. I tried to stay away from you as much as possible knowing you were engaged, I didn't want to ruin your life."

The realization of what he had just told me hit me like a slap in the face; now it all made sense, there was an explanation for why all the feelings I had for Thomas had vanished into thin air after years of engagement.

It had been him, unconsciously, but it had been him.

I let go of his hands, drawing them back and rising from the couch to walk around a bit. I needed to relax; my heart was pounding in my chest like crazy. It couldn't be possible.

I loved Carlisle, but before him, I would have had a perfect life. I would have gotten married, grown old with grandchildren running around my house, and died knowing I had lived my life to the fullest, with Thomas.

But with Carlisle, oh things would be very different. My life had been turned upside down; I would have to stop living to have a happy life with him. I wouldn't have what I had grown to love.

"Love…" Carlisle tried to take my hand to pull me closer, but I stepped aside.

"Uh, no, give me a moment."

"I'm sorry, I tried to keep you away," his voice was full of sadness as he looked at me, also standing now.

I felt manipulated in a way, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to be angry with Carlisle; it wasn't his fault, and I loved him too much to see him in a different light.

He remained still, watching me until my heartbeat calmed down and my thoughts stopped racing in my head. As much as I hated that I left Thomas because of Carlisle, I couldn't imagine a different future now.

I had learned to love the man before me, to accept the fact that he was different from me and that his family was anything but normal. Carlisle was there for me; he would do anything for me, and I would do the same for him.

I looked into his eyes before stepping closer to him, letting myself be enveloped by his arms. I closed my eyes against his chest, listening to the silence caused by the absence of a heartbeat.

"I wouldn't change anything if I could go back," I said softly.

He kissed me on the forehead. "I love you," he whispered into my hair.

"I love you too, Carlisle."