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11 months ago

Knowledge pt.8

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.


Tags :
11 months ago

Knowledge pt.9

Knowledge Pt.9

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: 6k

The music from the Pit echoed throughout the faction, ensuring everyone in the area could hear the party beginning.

Michelle sat on her bed, watching her companions prepare. Some were enthusiastic about passing the first module and ready to celebrate, while others stared blankly ahead, aware of the reality they had to face.

She wanted to sympathize with them, to feel sorry seeing them so lost for not passing the initiation and about to become outcasts in a few hours. But Michelle wasn’t good with emotions, especially those of others. She simply watched them, as usual.

Some had already left, running out of the dorms to head to the party that had already started. But she, along with Sunny and Tina, stayed behind, not in a rush to join the others. Michelle wasn’t too thrilled about the party; she wasn’t the type for such things, preferring peace and quiet.

However, as much as she hated to admit it, the two girls had a point. Such a party only happened twice a year, both times celebrating the new Dauntless officials at the end of the two modules.

“What do you think?” Sunny asked, standing in front of her bed and twirling to show off her dress. Michelle smiled slightly and nodded in approval before getting up to change into her outfit.

She felt exposed. The skirt covered almost nothing, barely reaching below her butt, and she was grateful for the built-in shorts that made her feel a bit more comfortable. The top, though flattering, seemed to reveal too much.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, taking in her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders, partially covering her exposed back.

Her attention shifted from her reflection when Sunny entered the bathroom with a small bag in hand and a mischievous smile. “Now for the makeup! Come here and sit down, I’ll bring some life back to you.”

“Sunny—”

“No, I won’t hear it!” Sunny exclaimed, opening the bag and pulling out makeup. “Tonight, you need to be your best self, and maybe you’ll even find someone,” she sang, and Michelle wondered why the two girls were so insistent on this. Did she really seem that miserable alone?

It didn’t matter to her, not really, just like she didn’t care about her former companions who would disappear from their lives tomorrow. She shouldn’t care, because one thing her friends didn’t know was that, in the end, someone did occupy a part of her thoughts.

In a very deep and isolated part of her mind, a pair of icy blue eyes looked at her with disapproval, repeating the veiled insults he always threw her way. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t forget those moments when she saw a glimmer of pride and something else she couldn’t decipher.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Sunny step back to get a better look at her, smiling to herself before calling Tina into the bathroom. “Tada! A new Michelle!”

Tina's eyes widened. “Damn, you're good!” she said, turning to Sunny. “You look amazing, Mich. Now, let's go. The party started two hours ago.”

The two girls headed out of the bathroom after one last check in the mirror, but one of them noticed Michelle still standing there, immobile. “Coming?”

“I’ll meet you at the Pit,” she said quietly, staring at her reflection. Sunny hadn't gone overboard, but she had done enough to highlight her features. Her gaze, now enhanced with mascara, black eyeliner, and eyeshadow, looked harder, emphasizing her light eyes.

Sunny had also applied a dark brown lipstick. The makeup created a stark contrast with her pale skin, and for a moment, Michelle contemplated wiping it all off. She couldn't see herself as normal like this; it didn’t feel like her. But then she thought that maybe, for one night, she could be a little different.

She returned to her bed and sat down, putting on the heels they had picked up that afternoon, checking to make sure she could actually walk in them. Once she felt confident enough in her balance, she sat on the bed again. This time, she lifted the pillow and took out the photo of her and Anne from underneath.

As the weeks passed, the photo was getting more and more worn, with a white stripe now visible in the corner from being folded too many times.

It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting, yet Michelle felt light-years away from her best friend, her sister. She wondered how Anne was doing, what she was doing at that moment, and whether she was living the life she wanted.

Because Michelle, at that moment, was living both her dream and her nightmare simultaneously.

Her heels echoed through the empty hallways, though the sound was quickly drowned out by the music. When Michelle peered into the Pit, she felt her heart race. The place was packed with people, making it impossible to recognize anyone from a distance.

Some were dancing, some playfully fighting, others drinking near the bar, and some simply sitting on a ledge with a drink in hand. She quickly realized that this wasn’t her scene. Yet, just as she turned to retreat back to her bed, she bumped into Tyson.

“Well, look at you! All dressed up, where are you going? You’re not heading to bed already, are you?” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her forward. “I guess you’re not much of a party lover, huh? Doesn’t seem like your thing, all quiet and mysterious.”

Michelle sidestepped, causing Tyson’s arm to fall back to his side, but she decided to continue walking with him toward the center of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glance around as they started to encounter the first groups of Dauntless.

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said, and Tyson miraculously heard her over the noise surrounding them.

“I figured,” he replied, leaning down to speak into her ear. “But trust me, it’s worth it. Their parties here are out of this world.”

When they reached the crowd, Tyson grabbed her arm to pull her forward, ensuring he didn’t lose her among the bodies moving around them. Michelle had to resist making disgusted faces every time a sweaty guy or girl bumped into her by accident.

The music made her heart and the rest of her body tremble as they reached the bar. “What do you want?” Tyson yelled to be heard, and Michelle just shrugged. She had never drunk anything more than a few sips of her mother’s liquor in secret.

Tyson turned to the bar, chatting with one of the bartenders, and they seemed to get lost in conversation. She took the opportunity to scan the crowd for Sunny or even Tina. Her attempts were futile; all she could see was a sea of people dancing and singing to the music.

The place was illuminated by green and red lights moving through the crowd like lasers, and the smell was highly unpleasant—a mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume. She grimaced when a girl stumbled and nearly fell on her.

She decided to find her friends, spend a few minutes with them, and then retreat, hating the situation she had found herself in. She longed to return to her bubble of silence and solitude, like when she spent her mornings alone in the gym. But her plans were thwarted once again by Tyson, who handed her a pink drink that made her wrinkle her nose. He grabbed her arm again, leading her away from the crowd.

“You’ll like it here more; it’s much quieter,” he said as they distanced themselves from the throngs of people near the bar. The entire Pit was packed, but the area Tyson led her to was surprisingly more isolated, with only a few groups of relatively calmer people chatting animatedly among themselves.

However, when Michelle saw where Tyson was taking her, she felt her heart leap out of her chest. It wasn’t just the sight of Eric, clad in a black shirt that clung almost illegally to the muscles of his chest and biceps, or the jeans that fit his legs all too well. It was more the sight of the girl wrapped around him that made her heart race. 

Michelle recognized her: Mia. The girl who, upon their first meeting, had treated her more rudely than necessary.

Tyson put his arm around her shoulders again, making her walk a bit faster, and this time Michelle didn’t shrug him off. Instead, she took the straw and drank from the glass. Her throat burned, but a sweet taste flooded her mouth.

“Oh, hey guys!” Tyson shouted when they were a few meters away. He detached himself from Michelle to greet his friends with a handshake and a pat on the back, while Michelle stood there, contemplating what to do next.

This wasn't her place; she wanted to leave, especially when Tyson returned and slung his arm around her shoulders to introduce her to the group. "Guys, this here is Michelle! One of the initiates who passed the first module, right? Third place? Second?"

He gave her a slight shake when he saw her usual expressionless face, his smile indicating he was already intoxicated. He turned to his friends, chuckling a bit. "She’s not much of a talker, as you can see."

"You going after the initiates now?" commented a guy who looked a couple of years older than Michelle. He raised an eyebrow, and the guy held up his hands in defense. "If I were him, I would too."

"Shut up, Axl. You’re making yourself look worse," someone retorted.

"Yeah, because you’re just desperate, you idiot," Mia said. The girl clinging to Eric sized Michelle up from head to toe, as if she were a lost child. She detached herself from the young leader and walked over, and despite wearing heels, she remained shorter than Michelle. "We haven't had a chance to introduce ourselves. Michelle, right? I'm Mia. Pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice dripping with venom.

Michelle glanced at the hand Mia offered, then took a sip of her drink, looking Mia directly in the eyes without accepting the handshake. Mia made a face and withdrew her hand. "Not only mute but rude too. Where do you find them lately, Ty?"

A few people in the group snickered while Tyson adjusted his hat and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a bitch, Mia," he said, playfully putting his arm back around Michelle's shoulders. "Not everyone has trouble keeping their mouth shut like you."

Mia huffed and went back to clinging to Eric’s shoulder, who absentmindedly placed his hand on her hip. Michelle tightened her grip on her drink, nerves frayed. The alcohol was already going to her head, and all she wanted was to leave—or maybe smash Mia’s hand.

“Tell your little friend to loosen up a bit. It wouldn’t be such a turn-off having her here,” Mia said.

“Learn to keep your legs closed then,” Tyson shot back, laughing as he released his hold on Michelle and took a seat next to Eric, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, man, pick them better and a bit less trashy.”

“Fuck you!” Mia shouted, standing up and storming off, giving Michelle a shoulder bump as she disappeared into the crowd. Michelle watched her go, a slight smile playing on her lips at seeing Mia so annoyed by her presence.

Turning back to the remaining group, Michelle took a seat on a nearby ledge, a few steps away from Tyson and Eric. She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes as the burning sensation once again spread down her throat.

“You shouldn’t be with your friends, initiate?” Eric’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Michelle opened her eyes to find Eric looking at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. She held his gaze for a moment before responding, "They're around here somewhere. I'm just... taking a moment."

Tyson chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like you’ve got some fight in you after all. I like that.”

Michelle shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone tonight.”

"Then leave. I don't think anyone will miss you," Eric’s words cut sharply, and Michelle felt the sting more acutely than usual. The alcohol made her more sensitive, but it was clear that his cruelty went beyond just her emotional state.

"I don’t think you like anything more than torturing me," Michelle retorted. Eric was momentarily taken aback, momentarily lost for words as he tried to suppress his smirk. "See?"

"Watch it, initiate. I won't excuse your insolence just because you're drunk," Eric warned, his voice icy.

"But you’re always complaining when I don’t respond," Michelle shot back, taking another sip of her drink. The argument was cut short as Mia returned, teetering awkwardly on her high heels and draping herself over Eric once more.

Michelle couldn't hide her irritation. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Tyson, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eric said, taking a swig from his beer. Mia pouted and forced Eric’s face back towards her with a dramatic gesture. “But if you were talking about something—”

Eric pushed Mia’s hand away with a look that could have cut glass. Michelle saw his jaw tighten and his gaze harden, revealing the cold leader she had come to know. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mia. ‘Nothing’ means nothing.”

His tone brooked no argument, and Mia fell silent, clearly embarrassed by the reprimand. Michelle couldn’t help but speculate about the nature of Mia and Eric’s relationship. Were they a couple? No, she hoped not. Friends with benefits? Probably.

The thought made her stomach churn, a feeling she tried to drown with one last gulp of her drink. Her head spun more fiercely than before, and she frowned at the now-empty glass. Rising abruptly, she steadied herself with a hand on the ledge where she had been sitting.

“Where are you going?” Tyson asked as she stood. Michelle turned her back to the group, raising her glass in a silent farewell before making her way back into the crowd.

Eric’s gaze followed her, lingering on her from head to toe, pausing uncomfortably long on the exposed skin beneath her short skirt. He grudgingly acknowledged that he had never seen her like this—a striking young woman. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo displayed on her exposed back.

Mia shifted beside him, her voice dripping with irritation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, clearly perturbed by Eric’s almost hypnotic gaze as Michelle walked away.

The same guy from earlier took a seat next to them, grinning. “I don’t blame him; she’s pretty stunning. If Tyson’s not into her, I might give it a shot.”

Tyson laughed heartily. “Man, there’s nothing between us,” he said, and Eric couldn’t quite explain the unexpected relief that washed over him at hearing that.

Axl quipped, “It doesn’t seem like it. You all seemed so close, I could almost feel the tension between you.”

Tyson shook his head, “No, nothing like that. Michelle just reminds me of my sister, which is why I like having her around. They’re very similar.”

A moment of silence followed this revelation before another guy from the group stepped closer. “So, Eric, what’s the verdict on the girl?”

“What do you want me to say? She’s just a girl,” Eric replied nonchalantly. However, as his friends continued to press him with curious looks, he rolled his eyes and added, “She’s not bad. She’s picking things up quickly and has her own style.”

His tone signaled the end of the discussion, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, such as who was stronger at arm wrestling between Axl and Tyson.

Meanwhile, Michelle found herself wedged in the midst of a dancing crowd, where people moved as if their lives depended on it. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot Sunny to thank her for encouraging her to come out, but the only familiar face she could find was that of her instructor, Four.

The guy was leaning against the bar, chatting casually with a woman Michelle recognized as Tori. She approached them cautiously, navigating the crowded space carefully. When she reached them, Tori greeted her warmly with a hug.

"How are you finding it here? I heard you passed the first module, and from what I hear, you did great. I'm so proud," Tori said with a bright smile. Michelle returned the gesture with a small smile of her own before turning her attention to Four.

"Have you seen Sunny?" she asked over the music. Four shook his head, glancing around the crowd before shaking it again. Michelle sighed and returned to the bar to order another drink, hoping to get the same one as before despite not knowing its name or what it was.

Fortunately, the bartender handed her the same drink as before. Just as she was about to leave, Four caught her arm, pulling her away from the crowd. Once they had distanced themselves enough, he looked her up and down, his gaze shifting to a worried expression as he glanced back toward the area she had just left.

"What were you doing over there?"

Michelle turned to see what he was referring to and, upon spotting the place she had just been, turned back to him with a shrug. "Tyson brought me there."

“Hmm,” Four said, his tone growing serious. “I can’t tell you what to do, but be careful with people like that. They’re not the kind you want to be around, especially Eric.” His concern was evident, and Michelle tried to take his words to heart, but the alcohol clouded her judgment.

Without saying a word, she turned and left him alone, heading back to the spot she had been at earlier. Her head spun, and she felt as though she were walking through a void. Yet, with each step, Four's words seemed to come to life, growing more real.

She stopped at a distance to observe the group she had just left, focusing specifically on Eric. Always so serious, so cynical, yet Michelle couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was just a foolish sexual attraction… but if that were the case, why did it bother her so much that his arm was casually draped around Mia's waist?

Michelle took a deep breath, her senses slowly returning to her. She decided to take a different path, heeding Four's advice, someone who, unlike the others, was reliable.

As she turned on her heels and disappeared into one of the corridors, she didn't notice a pair of ice-cold eyes tracking her every movement, rising to follow her.

That night, Michelle retired early from the party. She didn't seek out her friends or drink too much—just enough to have her mind clouded. Dressed in pajamas, she found herself sitting on the edge the chasm.

The cold air and the icy droplets made her shiver in the simple shirt she wore, paired with short shorts that provided little protection from the splashes rising from below.

The drink, still half-full, rested beside her, and the small notebook and pencil she had retrieved from her room lay across her lap as she let herself be rocked by the silence, broken only by the sound of the water below.

She leaned forward slightly to take a look, shivering at the sight of the water crashing so aggressively against the rock walls, causing the water level to rise a few inches below her feet with each collision.

She remembered what Four had said about how people, so foolish, would throw themselves down there, meeting certain death. A current like that would carry away even the strongest, and in a twisted sense, Michelle was curious—curious to see what a body would become if it fell into that abyss.

Taking a sip from her drink with one hand and drawing random lines on a page with the other, mimicking the movement of the waves, she didn't notice the steps approaching from behind, immersed in her small bubble of solitude.

After a few minutes, however, Michelle felt a weight on her shoulders, the presence of someone sneaking into her blind spots. When she stopped, ready to react and fully aware of her vulnerable position, she turned around, hiding her surprise at seeing the young leader leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing an expression of boredom.

It was probably a bad idea—no, it was definitely a bad idea—but Michelle turned her attention back to her notebook, ignoring him as if nothing had happened. However, this did not sit well with Eric, who pushed himself off the wall to stand directly behind her.

Michelle paused her drawing again, lifting her gaze when she felt Eric approach. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t help but feel a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “What?”

She asked in a whisper.

“People told me you were headed for the chasm,” Eric said, his tone as cold as ever. “I need to make sure no initiate decides to throw themselves off, or I’ll be the one dealing with it later. So get up and go back to your dorm.”

Michelle, however, ignored him and continued sketching as if he weren’t there. She didn’t consider that with a simple push, Eric could have made her disappear without anyone ever knowing, relieving himself of a nuisance.

“I don’t have time to waste, initiate. Get up,” he said more forcefully. Michelle shook her head, and she felt a shiver as she heard him sigh in frustration behind her. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Just do what I say!”

His voice echoed ominously in the void, and Michelle, struck by the severity of his tone, realized just how precarious her situation was. But what she didn’t expect, when she sensed him moving again, was to see him sit down next to her on the edge of the chasm.

For a moment, Michelle thought maybe he felt that strange attraction between them. However, she didn’t know that his presence was far from a visit of pleasure—he would have denied it to his dying day.

In truth, Eric didn’t want to be there. He would have preferred to be in his apartment with one of his casual flings or with his friends, drinking. Instead, he received a message from Jeanine Matthews instructing him to check on Michelle after the cameras showed her near the chasm.

Eric was filled with unanswered questions and doubts about why, since the initiation began, Jeanine seemed so intent on keeping tabs on the girl, making sure she was safe. Who was Michelle? Why was she so important?

But a small part of him was personally curious to uncover the girl’s secrets. His Scholastic habits hadn’t faded, and his hunger for knowledge consumed him from within whenever Michelle didn’t answer him, ignored him, or gave him answers that didn’t quench his curiosity.

At that moment, the silence was gnawing at him, and the sound of the pencil on paper was driving him mad. “Are you planning to jump? You’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“Do you want to push me?” Michelle’s immediate response surprised him. He pretended to consider it for a moment before replying.

“You’re tempting me to do it, yes.”

Without lifting her eyes from her notebook or stopping her sketching, she responded flatly, “Go ahead.”

Eric studied her for a moment, bewildered by how different she seemed from the girl he had observed over the past months. He glanced at the nearly empty glass beside her, attributing her response to the influence of alcohol. The glass didn’t stay nearly empty for long, as he took the last sip.

This caught Michelle’s attention. Finally, she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “That was mine.”

Even Eric had to admit that he was influenced by alcohol, though not to the extent Michelle was at that moment. But it was enough to make him want to push her buttons to provoke a reaction. Deciding to make a daring move, he grabbed the notebook from her hands, bracing for an attack. Instead, she remained impassive beside him.

He flipped through the pages casually, though he couldn’t hide the fascination in his eyes as he looked at her drawings. He hated to admit how captivated he was by what he saw on those pages, by what the girl beside him had created.

Michelle watched him closely, one of the rare times she could admire him from so near. It was perhaps a bad thing—she still couldn't explain why, despite her hatred for him, she found herself drawn to him. The problem was that Michelle wasn’t just physically attracted to the guy; she wanted to get to know him, to forge a connection between the two of them. It was probably masochistic of her to inflict such pain on herself.

“It’s rude to stare,” Eric said, his eyes still fixed on the notebook as he continued flipping through the pages until he found the drawing that resembled the tattoo on his back. He saw Michelle curl up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, wrapping her arms around herself.

He lifted the notebook to show her. “Is this the one you have tattooed?” he asked. Michelle shrugged nonchalantly, and Eric felt his blood boil. Gritting his teeth, he spoke sharply, “Just answer me, don’t make me angry, girl. Yes or no.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, a gesture Eric didn’t appreciate. Before he could snarl at her, she replied, “Yes, that’s it.”

“See? Not so hard to answer, is it, Initiate?” He returned to studying the drawings, imagining a similar one on himself. He had long wanted a tattoo on his arms, which seemed to grow more bare with each passing day.

But could he ask her to do one for him? If he asked, it would feel more like a command, an order, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn’t force her.

“It’s always been my way of escaping reality,” Michelle said suddenly. “I used to draw on the walls of my room; my mom was furious. I remember it like it was yesterday…” She laughed wistfully, shaking her head slightly.

Eric wanted to tell her that he didn’t care about her family or the little things she was sharing, but this was the first time he had heard her speak so much, and he found himself captivated by her words.

Her voice was both delicate and strong at the same time; even in her whispers, he could hear the confidence behind her words. He hated himself for it, feeling weak for having such thoughts about an initiate, about anyone. Yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, from the way her lips moved with each word.

“She never laid a hand on me, I swear, but her words hurt more than a punch,” Michelle said. At this, Eric snorted, and Michelle turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “It’s true, Eric. Words are the sharpest blade you can wield, but as a Dauntless-born, I don’t think you can understand that.”

Eric felt both deeply insulted and strangely flattered by her comment, both because it suggested that he had always lived within the confines of the walls and the black clothing, and because it seemed to mock him for it.

He wanted to come up with a cutting remark to prove he knew what he was talking about, but nothing came out of his mouth. What he did manage to say was, “I wasn’t born Dauntless.”

Michelle stared at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want, initiate. I went through initiation two years ago; I was born Erudite,” he said, feeling perplexed when Michelle tried to suppress a smile. His mood shifted, he wasn’t sure how, but he was no longer as irritated by Michelle’s demeanor as he had been moments before.

The alcohol was clearly taking effect, he thought.

“What’s going on?” he asked when she remained silent.

“I would have never guessed. You seem born for this life, for all of this.”

“That’s why I left, don’t you think? I could say the same about you. You didn’t seem like a Candor so far; now you’re talking too much,” Eric remarked, and Michelle’s smile faded, the playful atmosphere between them turning neutral again.

Michelle averted her gaze and looked down at the chasm beneath them.

Eric furrowed his brow, confused by the sudden shift in her mood. He didn’t understand why she had changed so quickly when she was the one who had first insulted him, calling him stupid. “Did the cat steal your tongue again, initiate? You know, it’s irritating when you don’t speak.”

“A not-so-subtle way of saying you like my voice?” Michelle asked, trying to suppress a foolish smile.

“No, it’s a way of saying it’s disrespectful not to respond to a superior when they speak to you. Very rude and immature.”

“I do respond. I just don’t need words to do it.”

At that moment, Eric set the notebook down and grabbed Michelle by the wrist, standing up abruptly. The jolt of his grip sent an electric shock down her body; she stood up with him, bewildered. But what confused her even more was the way he tightened his hold on her wrist.

In an instant, she found herself dangling over the edge of the chasm, Eric’s grip the only thing preventing her from falling.

Panic surged through her system.

She knew, she knew it all along—Eric hadn’t come to have a friendly chat. He hadn’t complimented her drawings, however subtly, out of kindness. He hadn’t joked with her, showing he wasn’t just the asshole everyone thought he was. He hadn’t started seeing her differently.

No.

He had done exactly what Michelle had feared, what she had imagined but was too stupid to notice.

She stared at him, seeing the glint in his eyes, that sadistic gleam that was so inherent to his nature. How stupid she felt for even thinking she had made the young leader smile, when she was utterly, damnably foolish.

Foolish, foolish, foolish!

“Don’t you want to beg me to pull you up?” he asked with mock amusement, as if he were teasing her. A part of Michelle wanted to comply, especially feeling his grip slipping ever so slowly.

But if Eric wanted to play this sadistic game, Michelle would change the rules to win.

She met his gaze, noting that sadistic smile—damn, it had its own kind of charm—and, trying to mask all her emotions, she replied.

“Let me go,” Michelle said, her voice firm despite the fear. Eric’s expression shifted instantly, becoming serious, the same one he wore every day.

“Let me go if you have the guts,” Michelle growled, clinging to a ledge with her feet as she swung.

Eric lurched forward, tightening his grip on Michelle as she pushed with her feet to force him to release her. It was a reckless move; for all she knew, Eric might have let her fall. But a dark part of her, the one that thrived on risk, knew the blonde was just toying with her.

And she was right.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eric roared, regaining his footing and hauling her up. He set her down on the platform, holding her against the wall with an intense grip. “What the hell is going through your head? Were you trying to kill us both?”

Eric was furious, his shouts echoing off the walls. It was clear anyone in the nearby corridors could hear. But Michelle, fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, couldn’t think clearly. As Eric’s rage crashed over her, she reveled in the thrill of having finally figured out how to play the game against him.

Eric was cruel, heartless, sadistic—but he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew the initiates were his responsibility.

What Michelle didn’t realize was that Eric’s heart was pounding wildly, threatening to burst from his chest as the seconds ticked by. The moment he understood what she was doing, the world seemed to freeze. He blamed the orders, the looming threat from Jeanine if she discovered that Michelle had died on his watch, despite her own attempt to drag them both into the chasm.

But his anger quickly shifted to pure confusion when he saw her begin to smile, a nearly manic grin that revealed all thirty-two teeth. Under the neon lights, with that smile, and perhaps influenced by the alcohol that clouded his mind, she seemed almost perfect.

Michelle was something he didn’t quite understand, and now he saw why Four had warned him about her, despite her not having done anything particularly noteworthy to earn that title. He also understood Jeanine’s interest in her.

With heavy sighs, they locked eyes, both intoxicated and driven by intense desire. Eric knew it was a terrible idea, something he would regret the next day, but the alcohol urged him to indulge in the moment's craving.

Because the Michelle before him wasn’t the girl he saw every day in the faction. No, this was a different Michelle. A side he was desperate to explore, because damn it, he was curious about every facet of her. This was the kind of person he was drawn to.

Without thinking too much, he moved his hands from her shoulders to cradle her face and neck, lowering himself to press his lips against hers. Michelle was surprised but quickly made space for him, parting her lips to let him explore.

She felt as if she were floating on clouds, lifted from the ground and carried through the faction. Her head spun as Eric claimed the kiss, and she smiled when he became more assertive, intense, as if he possessed every molecule of her.

The uneven wall pressed into her back as Eric used his entire body to push her against it, trapping her with his frame. It felt as if he was enveloping her, and the alcohol-infused Michelle couldn’t complain, feeling the fire inside her intensify.

She attempted a daring move, her hands slowly traveling to his neck, then into his hair. When the guy didn’t pull away, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged.

The sound that escaped Eric’s mouth as he momentarily pulled away from the tug was both obscene and exhilarating, and Michelle couldn’t help but smile. However, her grin was short-lived as Eric returned with even more ferocity, holding her still with a hand on her throat.

Eric let his hand slide slowly from her neck down her side, caressing every curve until reaching her hip and slipping it beneath her butt. With a surprising strength, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his torso. She gasped for breath as he pressed her against the wall, making her acutely aware of what she was causing.

Both felt their bodies igniting, two flames that, when intertwined, created a blaze—something beautiful to behold and destructive to everyone around them.

Michelle and Eric were a perfect match in that moment when their bodies intertwined, even if not completely, when their breaths became one, and their mouths left marks on each other’s skin. A connection formed.

Something that would pull them apart before binding them inseparably.

Something that might save them from the destruction awaiting them, because, on the other hand, you can’t pour gasoline on a fire without igniting an inferno.

And Eric was the gasoline, and Michelle was the fire.


Tags :
11 months ago

Knowledge pt.10

Knowledge Pt.10

check here for the orther 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

Michelle struggled to piece together the hazy fragments of the previous night while the pain in her head intensified. Her disoriented state made it difficult to grasp the reality of her situation. When she finally dragged herself out of bed and ventured to the cafeteria, the noise and chaos only exacerbated her discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the bustling room for Sunny, hoping for a familiar face amidst the clamor. She found Sunny at a table, surrounded by others she vaguely recognized. As Michelle approached, she prepared herself for the disapproval she anticipated. Instead, Sunny greeted her with a knowing smile, which only deepened Michelle's confusion.

The table’s occupants included Four, who appeared absorbed in a conversation with a girl about something related to the Wall. Bowie, with his tired eyes and somber expression, sat beside him. To Michelle’s surprise, a familiar face she couldn’t quite place joined her at the table.

“Good morning! The sun is shining, and I heard you finally woke up,” the guy said cheerfully, giving Michelle a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t torment her,” Tyson said, taking a seat to her left and offering a polite greeting to his companions. “Rough night, huh? Where did you disappear to after a certain point, darling?”

Michelle was about to respond when Sunny interrupted. “So, you came to the party? I didn’t see you.”

“Yes, that might be my fault, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in closer and throwing an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “I found our dear friend here trying to sneak away without even stepping foot into the party. Drink water, lots of it. It’ll help with the headache.”

Sunny’s smirk widened as she watched Michelle, who now felt an uncomfortable sense of self-consciousness. The combination of her headache and the attention made her increasingly uneasy. “What?” she croaked, her voice still rough from sleep.

“I wanted to fill you in on what you missed last night,” the guy continued. “We thought you had either hidden away in the dorms or, worse, in the gym. But it seems you had an equally interesting evening.”

At those words, the guy to her right, who had been chewing on his eggs, turned to her. As he realized what Sunny was referring to, he almost choked on his food, unable to suppress his laughter.

Michelle glanced between Sunny and the others, her confusion growing. “What? What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.

Sunny’s grin was now almost playful. “Oh, just some fun details about the party and your eventful evening,” she said cryptically.

Michelle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she tried to piece together what had transpired. As the fragments of memory began to surface, she hoped that the information she’d missed could help her make sense of the bewildering situation she found herself in.

Tyson's chuckle only added to Michelle's growing sense of dread. "Well, let’s just say whoever you spent the night with left a mark," he said with a smirk. As Michelle’s confusion deepened, Tyson pointed to a spot on her neck, which seemed to radiate an inexplicable sensitivity. "Your prince charming left a nice hickey here and here."

"And you told me there wasn’t anyone interesting, yet…" Sunny teased, her tone light but her gaze scrutinizing. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Sunny," she added, turning to the two men beside her.

"Tyson."

"Axl," the man who had been with her the night before replied. Michelle’s memory of him began to crystallize, but it was still clouded by the haze of her recollections.

At that moment, her focus shifted from introductions to the sudden awareness of the marks on her neck. Her hands flew to the area, and she tried to piece together what had happened after their intense kissing session. The realization that the previous night had been more real than she had initially thought hit her with an unsettling force. 

She scanned the cafeteria discreetly, hoping to spot the person in question, but he was nowhere to be seen. The tension in her chest tightened.

"Looking for someone?" Four’s voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to jump. The table fell silent, and Michelle’s gaze met his. The intensity in his ocean-blue eyes made her feel as though he was piercing through her defenses, seeing every hidden thought and fear.

Four knew. And he was judging her.

"Uh, I’d say that’s exactly it. Our Michelle is looking for her knight from last night," the girl’s playful comment did little to ease the tension. "Everything okay?"

Four’s penetrating stare felt like an accusation. It was as if he believed she had committed a grave mistake. "I warned you. Now it’s up to you," he said cryptically before standing and leaving the cafeteria with what Michelle assumed was Lauren.

The weight of Four’s words sank in like a crushing wave. Michelle’s heart raced. "What’s he talking about?"

Sunny’s expression shifted to one of concern as the atmosphere in the room grew dense, almost suffocating. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the cafeteria with Four’s departure, leaving Michelle gasping for breath.

"Nothing. He was referring to nothing," Michelle said quickly, trying to mask her worry. She grabbed a serving of scrambled eggs and placed them on her plate, attempting to divert attention. "What did you want to tell me?"

Sunny’s confused and worried expression vanished almost instantly, replaced by a look of keen interest. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, resting on her elbows. “Don’t you notice anyone missing here at the table?”

Michelle looked around, her gaze searching for the missing individuals, but she didn’t spot anyone out of the ordinary. When she turned back to Sunny, the latter rolled her eyes with a hint of impatience. “Tina and Max.”

Michelle glanced around again, realizing with a start that Tina and Max were indeed absent. They weren’t sitting at any of the nearby tables, nor did she recall seeing them in the dorms.

“Are they the ones from last night?” Axl asked, nodding toward Sunny. Sunny confirmed with a nod.

But Michelle’s focus was abruptly shifted when the cafeteria fell silent. The sound of boots confidently marching across the room cut through the low hum of conversation, drawing everyone’s attention.

She turned to see Eric walking in, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Eric Coulter was sporting a black eye and a split lip; his usually neat blonde hair was now disheveled, and dark circles marked his eyes. The sight of him was more intimidating than usual, not in the way that stirred strange sensations within her but in a way that demanded respect and silence.

He exuded a deadly aura.

“Yes, exactly them. Michelle, hey!” Sunny snapped her fingers in front of Michelle’s face, pulling her out of her stunned silence. “That was a spoiler, by the way.”

“What happened?” Michelle asked in a whisper, trying to stay discreet amid the tension in the cafeteria.

“Last night, after you left, your companion started a fight with one of the guys because, apparently, the guy looked at him the wrong way,” Tyson explained, his tone light but serious.

Axl chuckled. “He was completely hammered. You could smell the alcohol on him from a mile away.”

“So basically, after Eric came back, he and Four tried to break up the fight because things were getting out of hand. But Max? Max wasn’t satisfied with just getting beaten up; he lunged at Eric when Eric tried to pull him away, and that led to a full-blown fight between the two,” Sunny continued, her voice low.

“Max didn’t stand a chance. He was knocked out within the first minute, and if it hadn’t been for Eric’s friends holding him back, Max would’ve ended up dead on the Pit floor,” Sunny said, casting a quick glance at Bowie, who still looked troubled. “They ended up kicking Max out of the faction, making him factionless. Tina tried to stay behind, begging the leaders to let him stay, but it was no use.”

“It was entertaining, I’ll admit,” Axl said with a smirk. “But I’ve got to head out. Inspections in twenty minutes.” He gave Tyson a friendly pat on the shoulder and left, his seat now vacant.

Sunny took the opportunity to move closer to Michelle, sliding into the seat Axl had vacated. She rested her head on Michelle’s shoulder, her demeanor a mix of comfort and curiosity.

“So now they’re both factionless,” Tyson said, his gaze shifting from Eric to the two girls. “One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here, long before Eric arrived, is that you shouldn’t get involved with him.”

Michelle fiddled with her food, her thoughts swirling. She felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I don’t like him.”

“Nobody likes Eric, sweetheart,” Tyson quipped with a hint of humor.

“But you’re his friend,” Michelle said abruptly, her tone carrying an edge of seriousness.

Tyson seemed to consider her words for a moment before responding with a gentle smile. “Nobody is friends with Eric. We tolerate each other. He’s useful to have around and not stupid—he’s just hotheaded and a lot worse in many ways. His company can be pleasant, but no one considers him a true friend,” he said, glancing over at Eric. “No one has any real relationships with him. Not even Mia. That girl has been chasing after him since she arrived. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we find her at the bottom of the chasm.”

Michelle followed Tyson’s gaze, observing Eric with a new sense of wariness. The faint bruises on his face only added to his intimidating presence.

“I don’t understand,” Sunny said, shaking her head as she looked at Tyson. “How does he have all this power? Why?”

Tyson sighed, a subtle hint of something deeper in his expression. “Eric is a soldier, and soldiers are liked by those in power,” he said, his words carrying a weight that Michelle and Sunny couldn’t fully grasp.

The days drifted by, leading up to the second phase of initiation, a module Four had warned would be the toughest. Michelle found herself lost in thought, unable to escape the disquiet that had settled over her.

No matter where she was—whether clutching a photograph of Anne in her dorm, standing on the faction's rooftop in the rain, or working out in the gym at night—Eric's absence was a constant weight on her mind. He hadn’t so much as glanced her way since that night, and perhaps that was for the best. Four and Tyson were right: Eric was dangerous. His cruel game of intimidation and the near-violent incident with Max had shown her just how perilous his influence could be.

Eric’s demeanor had shifted noticeably. The mocking smirks and casual arrogance had faded, replaced by a rigid, authoritarian presence. As the start of the second module approached, he seemed increasingly distant, spending less time within the faction.

Despite her efforts to avoid him, Michelle couldn’t help but search for Eric whenever she had the chance. Sunny, ever observant, noticed Michelle’s growing preoccupation.

One evening, as Michelle prepared to head to the gym, Sunny stopped her at the door.

“Would you tell me if something was bothering you?” Sunny’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Michelle glanced at her, her concern evident, and nodded, pretending not to notice the full weight of Sunny’s gaze.

The corridors had grown colder with the onset of winter, and Michelle wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. It had been a while since she’d had a moment alone, a chance to lose herself in silence.

Upon reaching the gym doors, Michelle heard the muffled sounds of someone training. Peering inside, she saw Lauren, engrossed in her workout on one of the punching bags. Lauren’s expression hardened as she caught sight of Michelle, and without a word, she turned her back, focusing on a bag on the far side of the room. It was evident that the once-cordial relationship between them had soured.

Confused and feeling uncertain, Michelle decided to focus on her own workout, leaving Lauren to her space. But as Michelle pounded the bag, she felt Lauren’s gaze fixed on her back. The distraction was unwelcome, particularly with the stress of the upcoming initiation, Tyson’s warnings, and Eric’s unsettling behavior weighing heavily on her.

After a few minutes, Lauren cleared her throat. “I know Four warned you, but please be careful with Eric. He’s not someone you want to get involved with.”

Michelle stopped abruptly and turned to face Lauren, her confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Lauren sighed, rubbing her face in frustration. “Four saw you the other night when Eric was following you. He decided to investigate and told me about it. I just want you to be aware.”

“It was a mistake,” Michelle interjected, her voice firm as she tried to deflect the concern.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Michelle hesitated, then admitted, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to understand him better. It’s not like I wanted to get involved with Eric.”

Lauren’s expression softened, though worry remained. “Understanding him isn’t worth risking yourself. Eric’s reputation isn’t just because he’s a jerk or a bully. There’s something darker, more dangerous about him.”

Michelle sighed as she slipped on her jacket, acknowledging that her plans for a workout had been derailed. Instead, she headed towards the roof, where she could be alone with her thoughts. The idea of explaining her actions to Lauren felt too personal, too intimate. She wasn’t ready to share the details of what had happened, even though Lauren’s support was unwavering.

Despite her intent to be alone, Lauren was not easily deterred. She grabbed her belongings and followed Michelle up to the rooftop. "If you know, why did you do it?" Lauren’s voice carried a mixture of concern and frustration.

Michelle hesitated, struggling with her thoughts. Eric had made the first move, but if she were honest, the alcohol had played its part, blurring her judgment and amplifying the electric charge between them. But acknowledging that felt like making excuses.

When Michelle remained silent, Lauren grabbed her wrist, only to have Michelle shrug her off. “Michelle… it’s for your own good.”

“I already said it was a mistake,” Michelle retorted, her voice sharp as she leaned against the rooftop railing. “It won’t happen again.”

Lauren’s expression softened, and she stepped back slightly but remained nearby. “I hope so. You have potential; it would be a shame to waste it on someone like him.” They fell into a contemplative silence, gazing out at the city and the distant outlines of the other factions, savoring the quiet of the night.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Lauren’s question cut through the silence, sending a shiver down Michelle’s spine. The mention of the second phase of initiation triggered a wave of déjà vu. Michelle turned to Lauren with a pained expression.

“For— for the second phase?” Lauren asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty at Michelle’s reaction.

Michelle swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears as the weight of her emotions hit her. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself before responding.

“No, how could I be?” The words felt heavy, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The thought of her last moments with her best friend brought a pang to her heart. She wondered about Anne—where she was now, how she was faring, and what she was doing.

Michelle and Lauren spent the remainder of the night on the rooftop, waiting in silence for the first light of dawn. The conversations and warnings from Four, Lauren, and Tyson felt like pieces of a larger puzzle that Michelle struggled to piece together. She knew she had to stay clear of Eric, despite the dangerous allure he presented. It was clear that her safety was at stake, and she needed to tread carefully.

As dawn broke, all the initiates were summoned to a sterile room. The space was stark and unwelcoming, with chairs lined up against the walls, each one designated for an initiate. Two doors stood at the far end of the room, marking the beginning of what promised to be a grueling day. Michelle took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that the challenges of the second phase were about to unfold.

Four entered the room after them, his authoritative presence commanding attention as the initiates settled into their seats. “Welcome to the second module, the mental phase. It’s a departure from the physical trials you’ve faced so far, and it will test you in ways you don’t expect. This is the most exhausting part of the initiation, even though it’s not physical.”

He moved to stand in front of one of the two doors. “We have divided you into two groups to expedite the process.”

At that moment, the door across the room swung open to reveal Eric. “You will confront your deepest fears in the shortest time possible. You will be scored as in the first module, and those who fall below the red line will be eliminated.”

Eric’s gaze swept over the room with an intimidating intensity. “Only a few of you will make it into the faction. Another ten will be excluded. There is no room for error.”

Four positioned himself in front of the remaining door, pulling out two slips of paper from his pocket. He handed one to Eric, who read it aloud.

“Sunny.”

“Marcus,” Eric followed, calling out a boy Michelle recognized as one of the Dauntless-born, who entered the room after the blonde.

An uneasy silence settled over the room as the initiates awaited their turns. Some paced nervously, while others closed their eyes, trying to find calm. Michelle found herself caught between these two reactions, struggling to mask her own anxiety. She glanced at the clock on the wall, willing time to move faster.

Sunny emerged less than ten minutes later, her face etched with a look of near terror. Michelle started to approach her friend, but Sunny walked past her as if she were invisible, exiting the room without a word.

“Angela,” Four called out next.

Michelle’s concern for Sunny deepened, wondering what could have caused her friend to look so haunted. She felt a strong urge to follow her but decided against it, choosing instead to wait for her own turn and to find Sunny later.

After another fifteen minutes, the second door opened, revealing Marcus, who was assisted out by two Dauntless members. He looked as if he had seen a ghost—pale as porcelain, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red and vacant, and hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Connor,” Four called.

The boy rose with encouragement from his friends, and Michelle leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling to calm her nerves.

As time dragged on, Michelle pondered what her own fears might be, how she would confront them, and what she might see. The constant opening and closing of the doors, along with the shifting emotions of the initiates, did little to ease her anxiety.

By now, only a few initiates remained in the room, including Michelle—just one other girl and the remaining five boys, none of whom she knew well.

This time, both doors opened simultaneously, allowing the last two initiates to exit, visibly shaken. Michelle strangely hoped to be called next to end the torturous wait, but her name was not called again.

Two hours had passed since she last moved, her muscles aching from sitting in the hard wooden chair. Michelle glanced at the clock and, within five minutes, saw the door to Eric’s room open once more. This time, the boy who entered did not come out. Michelle looked up as Eric, still focused on the slip of paper in his hand, called her name.

“Michelle.”

Before she could react, he turned back into the room.

With great caution, Michelle stood up and entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, closing the door behind her. The room was stark and clinical, its white walls reminiscent of a laboratory. At the center was an armchair with the same apparatus she had seen during the Aptitude Test.

Eric was hunched over a computer next to the chair. The tension between them was palpable, a heavy silence hanging in the air. Michelle bit the inside of her cheek and moved forward, reluctantly taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair, ready to endure whatever came next.

The silence, usually something Michelle cherished, felt oppressive and unnerving now. She wished for any sound, even an insult, to break the suffocating quiet.

“It’s just like the Aptitude Test,” Eric said coldly, his fingers cold as they connected the wires to her temples, sending a series of small electric shocks through her skin.

He picked up a syringe from the table, giving it a slight shake. “Instead of drinking, we’ll inject the serum this time.” He grasped her wrist to steady her arm, and Michelle had to look away as the needle pierced her skin.

“Fear of needles? Pathetic,” he murmured as he withdrew the needle.

The serum felt cold, almost icy, and left a numbing sensation in her arm. But that feeling quickly faded as Michelle’s vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away under the serum’s effects.

When she opened her eyes again, her heart skipped a beat. She was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Struggling to stand, her legs trembled beneath her.

The room around her was cloaked in darkness so complete that she could barely make out her surroundings. A rustling sound behind her made her jump, and she let out a small scream. Instinctively, she moved backward and bumped into what she assumed was a desk.

Michelle tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding with fear. The darkness seemed alive, and another noise from a corner of the room made her hyperventilate. There was something, or someone, with her in the room.

Desperate, she began to search the desk, her hands scrambling over every surface until she felt something round and short. She fumbled for a switch, and the flashlight flickered on weakly.

The light revealed an office-like setting, but its weak beam was almost useless. Michelle tried to adjust the switch, but it was no use. “Damn it!” she shouted in frustration.

Stepping out of the office, she found herself in a long, dark corridor. Her heart raced, each echo of her footsteps amplified in the oppressive silence. The corridor stretched out endlessly, and she could feel the weight of her isolation pressing down on her.

She had to move forward, driven by a mix of fear and determination. Each step felt heavier than the last, her anxiety mounting as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and figure out what awaited her next.

Taking a step forward, Michelle heard the rustling noise from behind her again. When she turned around, the sound was still there, more insistent. Panic surged through her, and she began to run down the corridor, the flashlight’s beam dimming with each passing moment.

Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes as she spotted a control panel at the end of the corridor. Desperate to reach it, she sprinted faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The rustling noise grew louder, more ominous, as the light from her flashlight flickered and then went out, leaving her in suffocating darkness.

Each footfall felt like a mile as she ran, the control panel seeming to retreat with every step she took. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else.

In the pitch black, she extended her hand, feeling her way along the wall. She braced herself for a collision but kept reaching forward, fingers trembling as they searched for the control panel. Just as she felt something brush against her shoulder, the lights flared on, momentarily blinding her.

Michelle collapsed to the floor, curling up into a tight ball, trying to find solace in the fetal position. The harsh, bright lights made her eyes water as she clung to the ground, overwhelmed by the ordeal.

A hand suddenly grabbed her arm, jolting her from her disorientation. She flinched, her body tensing as she was dragged across the cold tile floor. The hand was firm yet gentle, guiding her away from the control panel and the nightmarish rustling sound that still echoed faintly in her mind.

She struggled against the grip, but when she looked up to see her attacker, she was surprised to see the silhouette of her mother. “Mom?”

The woman glanced briefly at her before continuing through what Michelle recognized as the central headquarters of the Candids. Strangely, the place was deserted.

When they reached a door, her mother shoved her inside, making her fall to the ground in front of a group of people. As Michelle looked up to see who they were, she only recognized a few of her mother’s colleagues.

Eric, watching the scene unfold on the screen that showed what was happening inside Michelle's mind, was immediately intrigued to see Jeanine Matthews among the people.

He glanced at Michelle in the chair before turning his attention back to the screen, curious to know if this was some sort of memory and whether it was connected to why Jeanine seemed so interested in her.

A man with red hair, dressed in a suit and tie, nodded to the woman behind him. She took a seat next to a woman Michelle recognized as Jeanine Matthews.

Michelle stood up, carefully adjusting her clothes and surveying the people before her.

“Ellie Black, don’t worry,” the man said, offering her a smile as she approached. “We just need you to answer a few questions for us, okay?”

Her mother glared at her for not responding, and Jeanine stepped in, noticing the young girl’s defensiveness. “Calm down, we don’t want to hurt you. We just need you to tell us everything you know about your father.”

If Eric was intrigued before, now he was thoroughly confused. The way they were speaking to Michelle seemed almost condescending, as if addressing a small child. A sudden realization struck him—this was indeed a memory, likely a traumatic one. The woman he assumed was her mother was able to drag her around effortlessly because, in this memory, Michelle was very young.

Michelle’s demeanor—hugging herself and looking distrustfully at the strangers—reinforced the idea. Even Jeanine appeared different, seeming younger.

“Do you know anything about his disappearance, Ellie?” asked the red-haired man.

Michelle remained silent.

“Answer!” her mother hissed, her face twisted in anger.

Jeanine approached her, gently stroking Michelle’s face with a tender expression. “If you tell us what you know, we might be able to find him. Bring him back to you,” the red-haired man cleared his throat slightly, and Jeanine silenced him with a sharp look. “Please be a good girl, Ellie.”

Michelle’s eyes welled with tears, but she remained silent, not even nodding. Jeanine’s smile faltered, and she stepped back, signaling the two men who moved in to restrain Michelle by her arms.

“No! No! Mom!” Michelle cried out as a third man retrieved a long syringe from a briefcase and injected the transparent liquid into her neck while she struggled desperately.

The onlookers watched impassively, as if waiting for something. Michelle’s discomfort quickly escalated into pain, causing her to sob uncontrollably.

“Another dose,” ordered the red-haired man.

“No... no,” Michelle pleaded through her sobs, but the third man prepared another syringe.

Eric watched as Michelle writhed in pain, restrained by the two men. He was puzzled by the unfolding scene, trying to understand what her fear could be until his gaze fell upon the syringe on the table beside him.

As Michelle’s cries grew more desperate, Eric could see that this wasn’t just a fear simulation—it was a vivid replay of a traumatic memory. He observed her face twisted in anguish, her body trembling uncontrollably as the second dose of the mysterious liquid was administered. The entire scene seemed to revolve around a deep, unresolved fear from her past, one that was being painfully relived.

Eric’s attention shifted back to the screen, trying to discern the details of Michelle’s memory. The sterile office environment, the authoritative figures, and her mother’s plea—all pointed to a significant and distressing event in her childhood. He noted how Michelle’s entire demeanor, her frantic movements, and her pleas were indicative of a child in intense fear.

The red-haired man, standing with an air of cold authority, spoke up again. “Ellie, if you don’t cooperate, this will only get worse. You know how this works.”

Michelle’s body was trembling violently, her tears flowing freely. Her mother’s expression was a mix of frustration and resignation. Jeanine Matthews, observing from a distance, seemed to hold an air of detached concern, as if this was a necessary, albeit uncomfortable, part of a broader plan.

Eric’s thoughts raced. The injections, the coercive techniques, the specific mention of her father’s disappearance—everything was piecing together into a disturbing picture. It was clear that Michelle was reliving a moment of profound fear and helplessness, a memory tied to her father’s unexplained disappearance.

As Michelle’s screams of agony grew softer, a determined look began to form on her tear-streaked face. With a painful effort, she managed to stop her sobbing, focusing all her energy on resisting the injections and the overwhelming fear. Her body shook with the effort, but her eyes were now filled with a steely resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, Michelle broke free from one of the guards holding her. She staggered away, her legs weak but her willpower fierce. Her mother’s face, once stern and commanding, now reflected confusion and concern. The red-haired man’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by Michelle’s unexpected resistance.

The room’s atmosphere shifted, the oppressive fear momentarily giving way to a glimmer of hope. Michelle’s focus sharpened, and despite the pain from the injections, she managed to grab hold of a nearby object—a metal lamp left on a desk. Using it as an improvised weapon, she swung it at the nearest guard.

The impact wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to create a momentary distraction. The guard staggered back, giving Michelle a precious opportunity to make a break for it. She darted towards the door, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The dimly lit room was now a blur of shadows and uncertainty, but Michelle’s determination guided her steps.

Michelle jolted upright from the chair, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she collapsed into the corner of the room. Eric, initially taken aback by her sudden movement, quickly refocused on the computer, entering the simulation data with a practiced efficiency.

Without turning his gaze, he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of detached admiration. “You took longer than expected, but you’ve set a new record.”

Michelle finally looked up, her eyes meeting Eric’s. What he saw in her gaze shocked him—an icy coldness he had never seen before. It was not the usual apathy he had come to expect from her, but something far more chilling. The intensity in her eyes reminded him of that night, the night when the stakes had been so high.

For a moment, Eric felt a wave of unease wash over him, even tho he masked it. The coldness in Michelle's eyes seemed to strip away any pretense of normalcy, revealing an undercurrent of something darker. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken understanding.

Eric’s eyes flickered briefly over the data on his screen before he turned his full attention back to her. “You’ve done well,” he said, but his voice lacked warmth. “Now, let’s see how you handle the aftermath.”

Michelle, still reeling from the intensity of her simulation struggled to compose herself. The experience had been more than just a test; it had uncovered fears and memories she had long tried to suppress. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart and regain control.

Eric’s eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. There was a tension in the room, a silent acknowledgment of the personal and emotional boundaries that had been crossed. Despite his coldness, Michelle sensed a faint trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a reluctant respect for her perseverance.

Michelle rose slowly, her movements stiff and strained. She left the room without uttering a single word, her silence heavy with unresolved emotions. Eric watched her go, a deep conflict stirring within him. He clenched his fists, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him.

After a moment, Eric stood up, determination set in his features. He left the room swiftly, his mind racing as he made his way to contact Jeanine Matthews.


Tags :
10 months ago

Knowledge pt.11

Knowledge Pt.11

check here for the orther 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: 3.4k

Michelle stared at the scoreboard, her eyes locked on the names and points for what felt like an eternity. A strange mix of relief and anger welled up inside her as she saw her name in second place, just below a boy she didn’t even know.

With the second phase of the program underway, the rankings had shifted dramatically, weeding out those who were emotionally weak. Despite her performance in the simulations being far from exceptional, Michelle had managed to hold onto her second-place spot with pride.

But the frustration—no, the jealousy—stemmed from her inability to surpass Chris. She didn’t even know who he was, just that he was from the other group.

Her name, written in bold red at the top of the leaderboard, guaranteed her a secure position in the faction. Yet for Michelle, that wasn’t enough. She had grown so distracted by the personal struggles weighing her down lately that she’d forgotten her original goal. Her personal goal.

She was good, but not the best. And that bothered her more than it should have.

As she sank onto her bed with her back against the wall, Michelle glanced around at her new companions. Since the recruits and the children of the dauntless had joined, she hadn't spoken to any of them. Only Andy and Connor seemed to be making friends with the new group.

Across the room, Michelle noticed Bowie sitting on his bed, chatting with one of the remaining girls. A girl she hadn't had the chance to talk to and probably never would. Making friends within the faction wasn't her concern, especially during initiation.

She was just grateful to have Sunny in that moment. Friendship was enough for her, and she was fortunate to have someone like Sunny after Anne. Watching the girl read a book while leaning against her, Michelle realized how lucky she was to have found such a vibrant presence.

She wouldn't have died from lacking friends; that wasn’t her life's goal. But having someone willing to help or stand by her during the darkest moments was invaluable. Despite her new recruit status, Sunny didn't care about Michelle’s whereabouts or actions. All that mattered was that Michelle knew she could rely on Sunny as a beacon of support during the tough times.

And so, in the past few days since the start of the second module, both girls, too exhausted to keep up with their routines, had started spending hours together in the quarters or in the Pit, savoring the tranquility.

Sunny didn’t mention her simulation, and Michelle, despite her curiosity about how Sunny had managed only ten minutes, didn't press for details. She could understand; she wouldn’t have wanted to talk about what she would be forced to relive over the next four days.

The second module, fortunately or unfortunately for them, lasted only a week. For the two friends, it was considered a stroke of luck; both were well above the red line, with Sunny now in fourth place. Thanks to her excellent performance, they could already consider themselves official members of the faction.

“What job would you like to have?” Sunny asked abruptly, lowering her book and closing it on her chest. She lifted her gaze to look at Michelle. “Since there's not much time left and you’re so high up, you could choose a good position, you know.”

Michelle thought for a moment before shrugging. She didn’t have a clear idea of what she wanted to do, but Tyson’s offer was quite tempting. She wasn’t aiming to be at the top of the rankings solely to secure a good job; it wasn’t really her priority. Instead, it was more about personal satisfaction and proving to someone who would never find out that she was worth it.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” she admitted.

Sunny rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. “I’d like to work at the Wall.”

“Why’s that?” Michelle asked, not knowing much about that position. She had heard people mention it occasionally and understood it involved protecting the city from what lay beyond the walls.

“Well, I like the idea of getting out of this place now and then. I like it here, but the thought of spending most of my life cooped up between these stone walls, without much time outside, gives me the chills,” Sunny said, making a nearly comical face.

Michelle smiled slightly, turning her gaze back to their peers scattered around the room. “...I don’t know. Tyson offered me a position at the shop.”

“The tattoo place?” Sunny asked, surprised. “That makes sense, given your passion for creating designs I’ll never understand. But don’t you think it might be a bit of a waste for you to end up in a place like that?”

Michelle continued to stare ahead as Sunny cleared her throat. “Don’t take it the wrong way; it’s just that, well, I think you’d have better opportunities elsewhere.”

“We’ll see what they offer me,” Michelle replied simply before excusing herself to take a shower, now that most of the initiates had either wandered the halls or gone to bed.

As soon as she closed the small shower area door, she turned on the faucet, shivering as the icy water hit her skin. She loved cold showers; they made her feel more real, more alive, but the water in this dorm was particularly frigid.

It was so cold that she had to grit her teeth for a few seconds before adjusting to the temperature.

In the background, she heard some voices exchanging goodbyes, a few beds creaking, and the door of their quarters closing, indicating that whoever had left had probably returned.

When she stepped out of the shower, she paused to look at herself in the mirror. Her pale skin and prominent dark circles stared back at her, but so did the muscles that were becoming increasingly visible on her frame.

Michelle felt a surge of pride in her progress. Just a few weeks ago, she would never have imagined being in second place; for a long time, she questioned if leaving her secure future in her old faction had been the right decision. But now, gazing at a stronger, better version of herself in the mirror, she realized that she had made the right choice.

Yet, she knew there was still room for improvement.

With newfound determination, she quickly changed clothes and gently said goodbye to a sleeping Sunny before heading to the faction's rooftop. Fortunately, she encountered no one in the cold corridors, remaining as hidden as possible when she heard voices nearby.

Despite the thrill of possibly being discovered, she soon found herself alone on the deserted rooftop, accompanied only by the moon and stars above. She looked out at the night sky, noting the full moon, before starting a steady-paced run around the rooftop’s perimeter.

The cold air filled her lungs like a sharp blade, and the wind made her skin feel as if it were being sliced with tiny cuts, freezing her face. But as she continued to circle the vast roof and increased her speed, the burning of her muscles made her forget just how damn cold it was.

Eric stepped out, fully aware of what he might find. He wasn’t even sure why he had come up here. It seemed like a pointless, meaningless pursuit, yet it was something he couldn’t resist.

For days, he had been deliberately ignoring Michelle. To be honest, he couldn’t have cared less about what she was doing or where she was. But when Lauren had stopped by his apartment to inform him that Michelle wasn’t in her bed, curiosity had taken hold.

Unable to sleep, his mind fixated on the girl. 

At first, he thought she might be in the gym, but she wasn’t there. He checked the chasm, and again, came up empty. He wandered through the faction, searching for any sign of her, already concocting excuses for why he was looking for her instead of Lauren.

Finally deciding to give up the search, he took a break on the rooftop, one of his favorite spots. And there she was. He wasn’t surprised to find her running instead of sitting on the edge watching the city. He had observed her long enough to know that she wasn’t the type to sit idly if she could be doing something else.

He watched her for a while, surprised that she hadn’t noticed his presence. Breathing in the frigid night air, he was taken aback when he did something that surprised even himself; it was as if his feet had a mind of their own, drawn to her figure.

Eric started jogging slowly behind her, warming up a bit before matching her pace.

It was then that Michelle became aware of his presence. She heard footsteps, too slow to be her own, just a few meters behind her. At first, she dismissed them, not feeling threatened. But when the footsteps quickened and drew closer, and she caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a sharply defined jaw out of the corner of her eye, she slowed down to a halt.

Inside, she felt a burn she wasn’t familiar with. Was it anger? Fear?

Tension?

She watched him intently as she came to a complete stop. Eric, having caught up, stopped a few meters away. He turned to face her with his usual icy expression and a raised eyebrow. “Already tired, initiate?” he said. “If you’re already exhausted, maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

Michelle stared at him impassively, taking in his casual outfit—a completely black tracksuit—before resuming her run and easily pulling ahead, creating a considerable distance between them.

Eric, despite his attempt to be irritated, couldn’t hide a smirk as Michelle resumed running, clearly ignoring him. He easily caught up to her and maintained the same pace for a few meters before deciding to increase the distance and see how she would respond.

He wanted to test her, and, oddly enough, he wasn’t surprised when she matched his increased speed and, shortly after, overtook him. In no time at all, Michelle’s casual nighttime run had turned into a full-fledged race to determine who was the fastest between the two.

Michelle had no idea how long they had been running, completely unaware of the passing minutes, until she began to slow down, feeling her leg muscles giving way with each step.

It might have been an exaggeration, but she could have sworn she felt her muscles disintegrating. Her pace gradually came to a halt, and she bent over, resting her hands on her knees before collapsing onto her back.

Eric completed another lap before stopping in front of her, looking down at her with a mixture of amusement and scrutiny. “Hmm, is this all you’ve got?” he taunted, observing her visible exhaustion, before catching his own breath.

“Could ask you the same thing,” Michelle replied in a monotone, curling up in her sweatshirt on the ground, trying to keep her gaze fixed on the stars to avoid meeting Eric’s eyes.

Nevertheless, she could see Eric’s expression hardening regardless. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, initiate. Just because it’s nighttime and outside of training hours doesn’t mean you can address me however you like. Understood?”

Michelle playfully raised her hands as if to shield herself, and to her surprise, Eric sat down next to her on the gravel, less than two meters away. He followed her gaze and started observing the stars with her, shivering slightly from a particularly cold gust of wind.

Michelle couldn’t say how long they sat there together, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the flashes that crossed her mind whenever she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She could have sworn she still felt his lips on her skin.

“Do you like the stars?” His question caught her off guard. She turned to look at him abruptly, as if he had just insulted her. She was met with an indifferent gaze that seemed to look right through her, as if she didn’t exist. “Is that such a difficult question?”

Michelle huffed at his curt tone and shrugged. “A little,” she replied softly, returning her gaze to the starry sky and nudging a few pebbles with her shoe.

She lowered her head, shifting her gaze to the gravel beneath her and picking up a few small stones with her fingertips, tossing them a few meters away.

But a question bubbled up spontaneously. “Why?”

Eric planted his palms on the ground behind him, leaning back to get a better view of the sky above them. He lifted an arm, pointing at something. “That’s the constellation Pegasus.”

Michelle tried to follow the direction he was pointing, furrowing her brow in an attempt to locate it. She didn’t even register Eric’s sigh before she felt his hand close around her bicep, pulling her toward him and closing the distance between their bodies.

She felt her heart race as her knee brushed against his. “That one. Can you see it now?” he said, almost impatiently.

This time Michelle saw it. A quadrilateral of stars shimmered above them, outlining the constellation of Pegasus. But as Eric continued talking, explaining the astronomical details, she realized she wasn’t really focused on that.

Michelle lowered her gaze, trying to hide the flush creeping up her cheeks. She felt foolish. It was absurd that Eric’s mere touch could provoke such inner turmoil.

He was always so cold, so distant, yet at that moment, his proximity made her feel vulnerable, as if having feelings for him was a mistake she should never have made.

She struggled to concentrate on the sky, on the stars he was describing, but her mind kept drifting back to the sensation of his knee against hers, his hand gripping her arm with a steady firmness.

How could she allow herself to feel something for Eric? He wasn’t the type to let emotions take over, and certainly not for someone like her.

Michelle started to feel her eyelids growing heavy; her eyes became heavy-lidded and the world around her blurred. The cold night air lulled her into the arms of Morpheus, gently guiding her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Perhaps she should thank her exhaustion for carrying her into such a profound slumber because, if she had been aware that she had leaned against the young leader next to her, she might have had a heart attack, metaphorically digging her own grave.

Eric stiffened as he felt her body rest against his, not as a burden but as a soft cushion. He remained still for a few seconds, still gazing at the stars while weighing the events of the past few hours. Michelle was someone, and as much as he hated to admit it, she needed control.

He sighed, irritated, before slowly rising and supporting her head to ensure she didn’t fall abruptly to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her back and knees, lifting her effortlessly.

She was, after all, just a slender girl, shorter than him and decidedly more fragile-looking compared to some of his comrades. Yet, he had seen how she could be one of the deadliest in the ring with the right training.

The girl's head fell against his jaw, her breath against his neck sending a shiver down his spine, which he chose to ignore, knowing all too well where it would lead if he gave it any attention.

When he reached the Pit, for a brief moment, a strange thought crossed his mind. What if he had taken her to his own quarters instead?

But the thought vanished before he could even fully grasp it, as he carried her into his quarters, taking care to avoid waking any of the other initiates.

Early that day, when Eric arrived at the Erudite headquarters, he felt an all-too-familiar sense of alienation, a feeling that had haunted him since childhood and reminded him of his outsider status among them. Despite his remarkable intellect—a quality Jeanine Matthews considered nearly wasted—today's meeting wasn’t about his abilities. Instead, they had gathered to discuss Michelle’s first simulation.

Jeanine had specifically requested that Michelle be closely monitored for personal reasons. She had made it clear that she wanted to be informed of any significant developments in Michelle’s progress, which was why Jeanine was now intently observing the second phase of Michelle’s simulation.

As the video ended, Jeanine stared at the screen for a few moments before leaning back in her chair. Eric stood in the center of the room, awaiting her response.

"Impressive. Truly impressive," Jeanine murmured, her eyes still on the screen. "Only two fears. That’s remarkable. In my entire career, I’ve never encountered someone with such a low fear level."

"My concern, or rather curiosity, lies with the second fear," Eric responded. "After some analysis, I’ve concluded it’s related to her fear of needles."

Jeanine nodded, rising from her chair and walking around the desk. As she neared Eric, a faint smile touched her lips. "But you didn’t come here just to discuss that, did you? You’re perceptive, Eric. I’ve always said it was a loss for us when you left, but as they say: curiosity killed the cat."

Eric remained silent, his expression unreadable, waiting for Jeanine to continue. She clicked her tongue and leaned against the desk. "The reason I asked you to monitor her is somewhat connected to what you saw during her simulation. That episode isn’t entirely true, but it’s not entirely false either. It’s based on very real events, though distorted by the fear-based simulation."

"I’m not sure if you know who he was—you were very young when he disappeared—but Michelle’s father, Alex Black, was an exceptional person. He was born among the Erudite as well. He was a dear friend of mine in our youth, and we remained close as we advanced in our careers. He worked with me to track down every Divergent in Chicago. He was part of our cause, and like all of us, he was at risk. His disappearance occurred years ago, when Ellie—excuse me, Michelle—was just a child."

"We never discovered exactly what happened to him. The most plausible explanation is that he was killed by the Factionless or by hidden Divergents among us. Initially, we thought Alex might have orchestrated his own disappearance, perhaps due to a change of heart or a growing attachment to a Divergent. It was a popular theory because Alex was always cautious and well-loved. There was no clear reason for anyone to want him dead."

"So, we speculated that if he had faked his death, he might have wanted to say goodbye to his daughter, to reveal the truth. But young Ellie was always a peculiar child. She rarely spoke, and when she did, her emotions seemed to come all at once. The man you saw in the simulation, the red-haired one, is Mike, the former faction leader of the Candor. His methods were controversial, especially among us. He became fixated on the idea that Alex was a Divergent, that he discovered this later in life, and by extension, believed Ellie might be one as well." Jeanine paused, a hint of a smile on her lips. "But these are just foolish theories. We mourn Alex’s disappearance every day. May his soul rest in peace."

"I still don’t understand what my initiate has to do with all this if you already have your answer," Eric asked, his voice steady, though his curiosity was evident.

Jeanine smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Alex had a brilliant mind, and he was searching for something—a tool we’ve been seeking for years. None of the people I’ve hired to study this object have been able to locate it, except for him. He confided in me that he had found it, more or less, and just needed a few more days to finalize his calculations. His mind didn’t work with numbers or formulas; it worked with—"

"—patterns," Eric interjected, causing Jeanine’s eyes to narrow slightly. "Michelle draws patterns. To an untrained eye, they might look like random lines, but after seeing them a few times, they start to resemble actual maps."

Jeanine stood up and walked toward him. “This is promising. It seems our suspicions were correct. I need you to keep a close eye on her. If any new information comes to light, I will inform you personally. In the meantime, make sure nothing happens to her. She is likely the key to finding what we’re looking for.”


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1 year ago

Fandoms I will write for:

Request status: Open

MCU

X-Men

Harry Potter

Marauders

Tolkien (Basically everything , I've read lotr, the hobbit, the Silmarillion, the book of Lost Tales and the Unfinished Tales)

Riordanverse (Everything except the Sun and the Star and the Chalice of the Gods so pIs no spoilers)

Narnia

Supernatural

Inheritance Cycle

Caraval

The Hunger Games

Divergent

The Maze Runner

The Magnus Archives/Protocol

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss

Once upon a Time

Tales of Arcadia

The Dragon Prince+Mystery of Aaravos

Avatar (the movies)

Good Omens

I will be writing about lots of characters from all these, so don't be afraid to request anything (except smut I'm not ready for that yet)

Arcane

Descendants

That's all for now, I'll be editing this because I plan to buy more books...


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1 year ago
Rewatching Divergent With My Bestie!

Rewatching Divergent with my bestie!

(Dystopian Era aka delulu for some men that are certainly not Peter, Uriah and Four)


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1 year ago

The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Maze Runner were the OG YA dystopian fiction trilogies


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10 years ago

Divergent lullaby

Hush little baby don't you cry You're gonna be an Erudite And if you're not quite smart enough You're gonna be Abnegation And if you like yourself too much You're gonna be a Dauntless now And if you don't like being scared You're gonna be a Candor now And if you cannot tell the truth You're gonna be an Amity And if you are not kind You're now factionless all on your own But if you can do more than one You're Divergent, turn and run.


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2 years ago

Need to try shift tonight

manifesting 😌

link


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1 year ago

Curse me, pretty pls-

so currently i am reading insurgent (2nd book of divergent trilogy)... AND GUESS WHAT!! I GODAMN FUCKING GOOGLED WHETHER THE ENDING IS SATISFACTORY OR NOT AND FOUND OUT THAT TRIS DIED AND CHRISTINA GOESS OFF WITH TOBIAS!!

now i need to vent about it!!

(ok i am going to write a poem on the ending like i imagine)

But, like c'mmon!! Can y'all tell me? Is the ending worth it? WITHOUT ACTUALLY GIVING AWAY ANYMORE SPOILERS-

Edit: I actually like the ending... especially the epilogue


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11 months ago

I FINALLY FOUND A GOOD DIVERGENT TOBIAS X TRIS FANFICTION WITH THE PERFECT ALT. ENDING ON AO3!!!!! (i mean although tris died, v. roth pretty much made it up with the epilogue.. but still..)

SO AM GONNA LINK IT HERE, IF ANYONE'S INTERESTED

This is NOT my work...

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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10 months ago

welp! i need a help-

guys, can someone like gimme the good synopsis of the Northern Lights without giving away any spoilers?

so basically the friend who got me hooked in the soc (which led to my obsession of kaz and grishaverse and bla bla bla) is going to lend it to me tmmrw in scl

eeeeeeeeee

(ill be lending her the Divergent)

(PS: i have been eating every single person's head in scl today by going: ROBERT PATTISON IS HOT-)


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1 year ago
I Have To Confess I Really Like The Divergent-Trilogy

I have to confess I really like the Divergent-Trilogy

Normally when people talk about YA - dystopian Books this is sadly considered as bad but it’s not and here is why.

It’s a very Self Discovering Story in a World that lies in shambles. The fractions of this system are portraying different types of personality traits, which is for young adults actually really releatable in a way. Because you don’t really know were you belong, were your place is in the world, what kind of person you want to be. The other two books are more in portraying the journey to discover the world, to know what is out there. And also what I find myself really relating to is the Message of being different and it’s actually portrayed in an interesting way. Because I discovered it by myself people bitch If you are different from the Quote on Quote Standard. In the other two books I really like how Tris is dealing with grief and loss. I also really enjoyed her as a Character, she seems very mature and silent to me, reading her was to got into the head of a very introvert person, with a lot going on but still remaining the feeling of the silent one. And the ending to this trilogy is so sad, but I‘m a sucker for this kind of endings.


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1 year ago
solemetstellam - BookFly🦋📖

Hi everybody!

I'm still reading "The Lord of the Rings. The Fellowship of the Ring." It's not as interesting as I though it will be, but I want to finish it.

Last friday I started watching ,,Sherlock". My friend @gothicstoriesenthusiast recommend this to me and I'm so gratefull for that. I love that series, especially John Watson (and Johnlock).

Ps: Today in library I reread "Allegiant" by Veronica Roth. It's one of my favorite books, although it ends very sad.

See you next Wednesday!


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1 year ago

"I suppose a fire that burns that bright is not meant to last."

"Allegiant" Veronica Roth


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9 years ago
Peter Hayes And Caleb Prior | Divergent Series | Not My Gif
Peter Hayes And Caleb Prior | Divergent Series | Not My Gif

Peter Hayes and Caleb Prior | Divergent Series | Not my gif

Requests are OPEN


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