Request Are Open!

Request are open!

I have never written with requests before, so please be lenient with me!

From today on, I'm open to requests, so I'll leave you below the fandoms I write for. Also, I wanted to inform you that I write for characters I don't know, but it might take me a little longer as I need to research them!

Fandom i write for:

Twilight

Marvel

Harry Potter/Marauders

Divergent

Fandom i know:

Hunger Games

Resident Evil

The Walking Dead

Criminal Minds

Chicago Med

Maze Runner

And many more!

EWAN MITCHELL | House of the Dragon S2 London Premiere

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.

MATERIALIST

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Viktor Krum

-James Potter

-Draco Malfoy

Knowledge pt.3

check the other parts here!

Summary:

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

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

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

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

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

Stay hydrated!!

yes, no problem at all!

You're my half | Carlisle Cullen

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x reader

Warnings: angsty with happy ending, post new moon.

Word count: 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he going to leave me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, no, give me a moment."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too, Carlisle."