#Erudite divergent

[ghostedgrim]

She's all that is about the popular guy being dared to date the "nerdy girl" by his so called friend, he takes the dare but ends up falling for her. She finds out and they have a fight and break up. He wins her back in the end. Take it anyway you want! I do want Eric to be jealous as hell after they break up when other guys start taking an interest in reader!!

She's All That pt.1

Pt2. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️: Getting dared to pretend to date someone, implied violence, jealousy,

"Eric, with all so respect, you're a Dauntless leader, yet you've been single since day one." The music in the bar is so loud that for a moment Eric almost didn't hear him.

"Personally James, I don't see how that's relevant. I have enough hookups to satisfy me plenty, I don't need some girl or whatever. Relationships I just a bothersome hassle."

"I bet you don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

"That's what you think, James," the bartender hands Eric a plate of food and leaves her number on the receipt. "Now if I were an unromantic man, that woman wouldn't have given me her number just now."

"Okay whatever, we both know you're good at getting men and women into your bed, but can you handle a full on relationship?"

"Yes, I just prefer not to, I don't need it" Eric shrugs.

James smirks and holds up his wallet. "Prove it then, date y/n then, the ex Erudite girl from your iniation class. You don't have to love her back, just make her love you. Do it and I'll pay for your next tattoo."

"Fine, how long do I have?"

"I'll give you about a month."

"Then we have deal James."

Is drinking by the chasm stupid? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not, not when I've been on a week long trip to Amity to handle Dauntless soldiers who forgot their mission and decided to play with the Amity girls. My job is to train and direct Dauntless soldiers, yet most days I find myself spanking ass because they don't know how to behave.

"God I should've stayed in Erudite." I groan. Obviously it isn't true, the people there were cruel, liars, manipulators, vain, but I must admit I missed all the reading and research I'd done throughout my time there.

"Saying stuff like that would get you killed," I damn near jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep rumbling voice behind me. I turn around to see Eric standing right behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist to stable me, and guide me away from the chasm as I sway. "Long day?"

"More like a long week," my hard scowl meets his cold grey eyes, "What do you want Eric?"

He looks at me with a prideful expression, "I wish to take you out on a date. Don't worry about work tomorrow I'm assigning you a day off."

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "Me? Hookup with you? Not interested."

Eric falters for a moment, a small tick in his jaw, before returning to that prideful arrogance. "Good, I'm not interested in a hookup. Meet me tomorrow at 8pm by the train, I'd like to get to know you, nerdy and all."

Before I could even argue he walks away, that entitled ass really thinks I'll just go where he tells me because he said it's a date. I wonder if he uses that method with every girl he hooks up with. Either way I'm not going.

"I'm not going." I remind myself for the uptinth time today. I'm laying on my stomach atop a skyscraper, sniper rifle in hand. Every shooting range in Dauntless is underground except for the rifle range. Every target is at least a mile away, and every night they're moved to a new spot, hidden somewhere on the streets below, or hidden in a new room within the buildings around me. Sometimes, the targets are put on conveyors so they move around, and sometimes some are hidden so well you can only see a tiny sliver. To handle a gun that can shoot from miles away takes practice, and extreme smarts. Constantly I must calculate how the wind may effect my bullet, how far before gravity pulls it down, the most effective place to hit a target, arm to disarm, leg to stop them from running, chest or head to kill.

Only 7 people here in Dauntless have been trained and can handle a rifle and I'm one of those seven. It's one of the few jobs I can use to challenge myself. Kinda fascinating how using a gun takes so much math and knowledge in physics. None the less, I still train at least twice a week like the others.

I'm not fucking going! BANG!! My gun jerke violently, the bullet flies through the air landing perfectly onto the head of a far away target.

I look at my watch, "6:15." I'm not fucking going.

I readjust. BANG!!

I wonder what Eric could possibly have in mind for our date. Wait, why the fuck should I even care? I'm not even going.

It would be rude to stand him up though, and maybe he does actually like me, maybe he's finally going to be in a relationship and he actually chose me. I scoff, nah that's fucking stupid, as if Eric would think to pick me our of all the women already obsessed with him. I'm sure he'll live if stand him up.

BANG!! I miss by a whole 5 feet. "Fucker."

BANG!! I miss again...

It's 7:58, I'm standing by the train tracks wearing my nicest black dress, combat boots, and my favorite gun and dagger holstered to my thigh beneath the skirt of my dress. I even did my makeup. Fuck me, why the Hell did I fall for this crap?

I watch the train approach. "Where the Hell is Eric? Is this a prank?" I fail to hear the frantic footsteps from behind me. I barely have time to process anything before there's an arm around my waist and I'm getting dragged into a train car.

"Sorry I'm late, had some last second paperwork to handle. Thank God I made it in time to catch the train. You okay?" Eric is wearing his typical black cargo pants, combat boots, his black shirt is tight fitting and pared with a black jacket, his hair is in it's signature style and everything. Why the Hell am I about to swoon?

"I'm uh, yeah I'm fine." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I regain my footing. "For a moment I was scared you stood me up."

Eric scoffs, "Stand up a beautiful girl like you? I'd rather punch a brick wall." He sits down on the threshold of the door, letting his legs dangle out of the traincar as we race through the city. "Come sit," he pats his thigh.

If he's dissapointed I didn't sit on his lap he doesn't show it as I sit across from him. Unlike him I keep my legs inside the train car. "So uh..." I click my tounge, "why did you ask me out in a date, and why did you do it without the intent of hooking up? Last time I checked you never had time for a girlfriend."

"You've never been asked out before-"

"Oh so you're asking me out as a joke? Or pity? Because I'm not staying if that's the case." Eric appears to panic for a moment and quickly grips my shoulder as I try to stand.

"I wasn't finished," he states defensively, Eric's eyes stare deep into mine, their color cold as a winter storm, yet my cheeks warm and my heart stutters. I should probably check that with a doctor. "You and I came to Dauntless and went through iniation at the same time, if I recall correctly you ranked 10th place out of 35 initiates. Now you're not only training and directing Dauntless soldiers, but you're also apart of the only seven people here in Dauntless capable of handling a sniper rifle. I think I have every reason to be curious about you, because the fact that nobody has asked you out is baffling, especially considering how stunning and powerful you are."

Never have I expected a man like Eric to say such words. Stunning? Powerful? I know I'm strong, no idea where he gets the idea I have good looks, but honestly, I feel like I'm the hottest girl in Dauntless after hearing those words. Eric's hand rests atop mine, warm, strong, calloused from rigorous training, his eyes seem to trace my face, and suddenly I'm 16 and freshly transferred to Dauntless again. Eric was terrifying, but hot back then, he still is now just more tame.

I soon realize I've been gaping like a damn fish for minutes now and Eric's small chuckle breaks me from my trance. "I take it nobody has told you that before," he brings a hand to my cheek, his expression soft, "let me be the one to change that, to show and tell you just how amazing you are."

I used to imagine how his lips would taste. t

Then I turned 17 and pushed it from my mind because I was convinced Eric would never love me. He would always be too busy chasing tail to even notice me. But now his eyes are on my lips, his tounge even darts out for a moment to lick his bottom lip. He then looks back at my eyes, he leans in the hand on my cheek pulling me closer. "You smell like strawberries." Our lips are almost touching, his warm breath fanning across my jaw, he smells like gunpowder, cedarwood, and whiskey. I can barely hear anything over my pounding heart. I close my eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between us.

"Shit!" I open my eyes as Eric frantically pulls himself away from the door and the traincar is encased in darkness for several seconds until we leave the small tunnel. "Fuck," Eric laughs, "nearly lost my damn leg." I can't help but to laugh with him.

"That would certainly be quite the traumatic first date." We settle down again the wall both looking out the open door across from us. "How about we just keep all our limbs inside the train for now?" Eric sighs, and we both relax taking in the sight and sounds of the dark clouds rolling in and the distance thunder. The train rolls through the miles of green, flat land between the city and Amity. You can still see the bright lights of the Erudite buildings. It's peaceful, and I can't help but just enjoy the moment rather than talk.

"I once lit my hand on fire." Eric says it so casually as if he were talking about the damn weather.

"You what! Please do tell." I smile like a little kid excited for candy. Eric smiles back and dives into the story of how in chemistry he accidentally covered his hand in lighter fluid, then instead of washing it off he thought it faster to just burn it off. Fortunately the fire lit and burnt out too quick to cause any permanent damage.

It's pouring by the time the train reaches the Dauntless sector. Eric jumps off, then I jump right after. I barely have time to finish standing before he's wrapping his jacket around me. "I would hate for you to catch a cold. Now let me walk you home."

I'm starting to think this is a dream.

Asking her out was one thing, I never meant to get attached. We've been dating for almost a month now. Every time I see her my heart stops, and all I can do is admire her like some dumb schoolboy with a crush. Never in my life did I think I could actually fall in love, and never did I think I would stay up all night imagining what it would be like to kiss a girl, let alone replaying the sound of her laughter in my mind over and over. She's strong, smart as Hell, arguably smarter than me, and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous I could drown in her arms. Honestly if she suffocated me I'd probably thank the damn woman.

"I'm fucked, I'm so utterly fucked." I spend maybe another hour in bed with nothing but my boxers on. I'm already running late, but fuck it, it won't kill Max if I'm late for work just once.

I'm quick to change clothes and rushed out of my home to search for y/n. I find her in the training room running a small squad through some drills. Without a single care I kiss her cheek, "Good morning, my dagger. Sorry for interrupting, but I just needed a small taste of you to get through my day." Her cheeks are dusted in red, and fuck she's just so damn cute it stabs my heart, and then her expression snaps back to stone and she shoos me away.

I catch James in the small squad of men, he's smiling and my heart drops as I remember our bet. I take my time walking up to my office. "How the Hell am I going to escape this?"

Today was exhausting, and I received far to many lewd comments about my relationship with Eric than I'd like. But now I can finally go visit Eric at the bar. For a guy known to be heartless and terrifying he's an amazing boyfriend.

Many people, especially Four, had warned me that Eric was likely dating me as a joke, but I highly doubt he'd continue fake dating me for a whole month as a joke. It's definitely not a joke. Yeah he can be mean, really mean, and cruel, especially to initiates, and yes he's heartless to seemingly everyone here in Dauntless but he has exceptions for certain people... I'm important to him, he's not dating me as a joke, sure he's capable of being that cruel but... he isn't doing that... right?

I try to shake the uneasy thoughts from my head, their just stupid fears, that's all. I pull on Eric's jacket and quickly make my way down to the bar.

I've been sitting alone at this table for nearly 20 minutes, and I can feel the eyes on me. My stomach is a storm of unease, and my doubt is ever growing. This isn't the first time Eric has been late to a date. When we first started dating, he had been cocky, full of himself, half the time it sounded like he was trying to talk me into bed. Despite our first date, it had taken me a while to finally, truly open up to him, to trust him, and believe he wouldn't hurt me. Yet here I am, sitting alone at a table a week later.

It's been a fucking hour, and I swear I can hear the whispers, feel the eyes. The waitress looks at me with contempt, as if she's won something and I lost at whatever she was winning it. My unease eventually turns to frustration and soon I'm walking through the dimly lit halls in search of Eric.

"Fuck me man, and here I thought you were incapable of a relationship." James, without a damn doubt that's his voice.

"Well I'm full of surprises." Eric? That's definitely him. Why the Hell is he with James instead of me, and why are they talking about relationships?

I stalk closer to where I'd heard them speaking, James is running his mouth about a girl's ass making it easy for me to find the two men, and watch them while remaining unseen.

"Have you both kissed, better yet fucked?" James asks and it makes my stomach turn sour. Kissing is fine, but asking about my sex life is not. Not that I have one, yet.

Eric huffs, "no we haven't had sex, and unless you count kissing on the cheek, then we haven't kissed yet."

"Ah, so in that case it isn't love." James has a concerningly victorious look.

"Just because we haven't kissed doesn't mean she isn't in love with me. She's never kissed a guy before, let alone have sex." Eric sounds somewhat annoyed.

"Well damn, a virgin, and unkisssed, I think I may need a taste myself. It's been awhile since I've tried a girl like that. Though-"

"James," Eric warns, his voice deep and posture tense. I wish I could see Eric's face, but all I can see is his back.

"Fine, fine, so you claim she's in love with you. Now I can argue that, but I saw the way that girl looked at you when you visited her last week. She looked at you the way a girl looks at a puppy." James shrugs, and then his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. "It seems I've lost our bet Eric. You can be romantic, and you are capable of making any girl, even ugly miss grumpy, genuinely fall for you. I can't wait to watch her face and see her cry when you tell her you're whole relationship has been fake."

"James-"

"Then aging you should definitely keep dating her. Think about it, maybe she'll stop being so closed off and grumpy, better yet, she'll stop being so strict on my squad. Perhaps you can make her give me a few promotions."

"Playing with her emotions to make her date me and fall in love was-"

I don't think, I just run. I don't stop running, not until my legs give out and I find myself sitting in a train car. That asshole! I trusted him, I loved him, and yet that fucker was using me for his own sick gain! My comm link keeps ringing, and in my frustration I stupidly throw it out of the train.

I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe, my chest hurts like Hell, and my vision is so blurry from tears that I can barely see shit. It was fake, it was all fake. Everything he said was fake! I was nothing to him! Absolutely nothing!

I curl up, and I hate myself for doing it, but I pull his jacket tighter around me. "Gods how can I be so fucking stupid... they warned me, so many fucking times and I ignored them like an idiot."

The sun is rising by the time I get off the train. It's freezing cold, snow covers the street and snowflakes fall from the sky. I glance at the cameras as I walk back to the compound. No doubt Four is watching me through them, or is already at my apartment with a whole essay of a lecture awaiting me. I don't even know if I have the energy to keep walking. So I just lean against a brick wall inside an alley.

I don't know how much time has passed, I'm shivering uncontrollably but I just can't seem to move.

"Y/n." His voice is deep, soft, and full of warmth and I find myself crying all over again.

"Four, I... you were right I-" He interrupts me with a tight hug and kisses my forehead.

"Later, let's just get you home and warm." Four bundles me up in a spare jacket and scarf he brought before picking me up and carrying me home. The exhaustion hits me hard and I unwillingly let myself drift asleep.

I'm bundled in thick warm blankets when I wake up, two warm hands hold one of mine. I finally open my eyes. I'm in my bedroom, Four is leaning against the wall near my door, his knuckles scabbed, and splattered with blood. Confused I look to my left to see who the Hell is holding my hand. To my suprise it's Eric. His gaze is locked on our hands, eyes are rimmed in red, bruises decorate his jaw, right eye, and possibly other places, even his nose looks broken.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Eric's head snaps up and he looks at me in such a way that I'm convinced he actually does love me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, what happened- no, what I did was wrong. You didn't deserve any of that." A tear slips down his cheek and I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt of gaining my pity. "Yes, James and I made a bet with him betting I couldn't make you fall in love with me. It was wrong, and it was cruel for me to manipulate you like that-"

"Get out." I snap.

"Hear him out, trust me," Four interrupts. "We both know Eric isn't the guy to let himself get beat up, especially without throwing at least one punch back." It dons on me that Four beat the shit out of Eric, but that's not what suprises me, it's the fact that Four is utterly unscathed. Eric actually let Four beat him up after what he did to me.

"I- at first it was fun, but then I started to develop feelings and holy shit I fell. I fell hard and fast and I didn't know what to do." Eric's voice breaks and he looks away from me. "You were like a goddam dagger, burrowed deep into my heart and seared into my brain. I thought, maybe to could just let myself win the bet instead of calling it off, you'd never have to know and we'd get to keep dating. You don't have to forgive me, but please know ever I've told you, it was the truth and I do love you. I love you so much it hurts."

"A part of me wants to believe you, Eric. However, the other part of me knows you're nothing more than a lying manipulative snake. I don't want to ever see you again, don't talk to me, don't even look at me."

Defeated Eric finally rids himself from my room.

"What happened to James?" I ask Four.

Four smiles, "Eric broke his jaw."

I sigh, deep in thought, "Did Eric actually let you hit him."

"Pretty much. I found him outside frantically looking for you, I punched first before asking questions. I had already seen all I needed to through the cameras. He didn't fight back once, just stood there and took my beating. I yelled st him for quite a bit before dragging his ass here then returning to the security cameras and waiting for you to step off the train."

"Four?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. And if I ever act that stupid again, slap the shit out of me."

[jeaninesfavouriteserum]

jeanine matthews definitely suppressed herself as a teen when she realised she liked women and now has serious trouble with self-expression. fight me

[jeaninesfavouriteserum]

this is jeanine matthews in a quote

cells

[charlotteking23]

Can you do an Eric Coulter story where there's a newish dauntless leader he's obsessed with and when they finally get together he has a huge breeding kink

Obsessed with you

Eric Coulter x reader

Warning: Smut, praise, breeding kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, not edited.

The sound of finger snapping broke Eric dazed, startling him. "Dude, you're staring". Axel a Dauntless leader spoke up following Eric's eyes to the girl.

"You've been obsessed with her for years", Axel grinned shoving Eric shoulders playfully.

You and Eric were both from the same faction Erudite, Only Eric had known you but you didn't know him till later when she transfered to Dauntless.

Eric had briefly met you, bumping onto you during school. That day Eric fell in love with her but never had the courage to proclaim his feelings for you.

"I know..", Eric sighed looking back at his beautiful Y/N.

"Well..get ready because she is coming over here" Axel said leaving Eric stressed.

"How's my hair, is my jacket go-...Hey Y/N, Eric said before coughing awkwardly seeing his friend shake his head in amusement.

"Hey guys, their a party tonight I was wondering if you wanted to come.., You smiled leaving butterflies in Eric's stomach.

"YEAH...I mean yeah,yeah that' seems cool, Eric said trying to keep his excitement in, before he saw you leaving back to your friends.

"Man you're whipped", Axel laughed at Eric lovesick look.

"This is perfect, I finally have a chance to ask her out", Eric smiled at the thought.

Eric was ready for tonight, dressing in his usual attire but took extra time combing his hair and putting extra cologne on wanting to look perfect for his Y/N.

Blinding light, people dancing or making out with each other and the alcohol flowing free was the first thing Eric saw at a usual Dauntless party.

But his eyes were only looking for his girl, Y/N. She was wearing a black dress and her hair curled enhancing her beauty even more.

He started walking towards the bar hoping after some drinks he would have some courage to ask You.

"Hey Eric", a voice Eric knew all to well had spoke to him.

"um..Hey Y/N", Eric said back hoping to relive some tension.

You only giggled, "You don't have to be so awkward with me".

But Eric only smiled watching as you spoke about something but he wasn't paying attention only watching how your lips were moving wishing he would kiss them right now.

"Oh sorry am I boring you", You said feeling guilty about wasting Eric's time.

"You could never bore me", Eric smiled watching Your eyes light up in appreciation.

"I have to ask you something...", Eric nervously chuckled rubbing the back of his neck.

Eric starred into Y/N's doe looking eyes, the eyes he would do anything for, she didn't know how much power she held over him.

"Y/N I have liked you since we were both in Eurdite since you bumped into me by accident, I've never had the courage back in Eurdite to ask you out but now...Would you go out with me", Eric said nervously rubbing his hands before he felt someone's soft delicate hands taking his hands into hers interwining them together.

"Eric, I would love to go out with you", You smiled at him.

"Why don't we get out of here", You said pulling Eric out of the crowded space and into more of a secluded area which happened to be Eric's apartment since it was to closest.

Opening the apartment door, Eric immediately started to kiss Your neck basking in pleasure.

"Where's your room", you managed to get out before gasping out the pleasure of getting whisked away in Eric's big arms.

He laid you down on the bed roughly taking off your clothes scattering them all over the place.

"Oh, baby", Eric said kissing down your neck to your boobs before sucking on them.

You felt Eric's hand go down lower to your dripping wet pussy and slid his fingers into your soaked cunt. The only thing you're able to focus on is the pleasure Eric is giving you. It makes you moan greedily. You begin to squirt all over his fingers. Everything is soaked.

"Look at the mess you made, my naughty girl", Eric said pulling away from your boobs before roughly grabbing your jaw smashing his lips into you, It was rough, feeling Eric dominate the kiss.

Eric pulled his hand away from your pussy. You whine, as if to say 'please,' he moved your body, since you're barely able to stand, and bend you over the couch.

Eric took the rest of his clothes off before roughly pulling your hair before shoving two fingers in your pussy, "You squeezed me so tight, darling".

Eric started to move faster putting three fingers in your pussy, leaving you in a moaning mess your eyes closing at the amount of pleasure.

"You're cumming again? You're so pathetic", Eric growled before taking his fingers out licking them before roughly shoving his cock back in your pussy.

"You like when my cock is shoved inside of you, don't you whore?" Eric growled into my ear. he begins pounding into you mercilessly. You squirm and moan underneath him.

"You're nothing but a cocksleeve, a hole for me to fuck whenever I please" Eric said as he pushed your face down into the cushion. "I'm going to fill your pretty pussy with my sweet cum", his thrusts become faster and faster.

"You better take it all, slut", Eric announced. You let out a muffled scream as his cock empties into your womb.

"Don't worry baby hmm, just let it all out", Eric said holding you down, making you do nothing but squirm at the feeling of his cock.

[zelcii]

love me anyway | peter hayes

peter leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched you from across the pit. you were laughing with the others, your smile wide and effortless, but something about the glint in your eyes always seemed bittersweet. it was as if the laughter was a mask, hiding the truth of your candor-born honesty that seeped through every gesture and expression. you could never quite hide the truth seeping behind the way you smiled, another layer of your candor-born honesty peeking out from under every facade you put on. not that it could be helped. the truth bled from the very way looked, very words you breathed. 

he loved it. how you were basically an intricate scrapbook, pieced together by every person who had ever touched your life, every place you had ever belonged to, and every passion that had ever stirred your heart. you were a patchwork of experiences, raw and honest, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the way you carried all of it so transparently, even when you tried to hide.

he had always been a problem. for many people, but especially for you. you were no stranger to peter hayes, growing eerily familiar to his sharp edges and cruel humor as it had been a constant presence in your life. after all, you were born in the same faction, hung around the same groups of people, followed the same set of rules. even more, your mother had never liked him. since the two of you were young he'd seem to constantly be one second away from breaking whatever—or whoever—it was in front of him. you used to think you hated him for his arrogance. for how cruel he could be, his tendency to belittle the people that cared for him.

but then you chose dauntless. with one swift cut of the ordaining knife, it wasn’t just your tender, naive skin that was cut—it was every tie to the life you once knew. suddenly, peter hayes, the only person you’ve ever despised, became the only constant factor in your life. he was the one unchanging thread that connected you to both your past and present. you tried to forget your life from before, how things were. but it was hard to admit that the only person you could blame was yourself for wanting to leave.

"staring again," christina’s voice sliced through your thoughts, jolting you back to the present. you blinked, reluctantly tearing your gaze away from peter, who was leaning casually against a wall. he was like an island of calm amidst the chaos that spread across the dauntless pit, his posture relaxed and his expression unreadable.

"i wasn’t," you insisted, but the words felt hollow even as they left your lips. your candor was a relentless betrayer, with every twitch of your mouth or flicker in your eyes revealing the truth you tried so hard to conceal. christina’s gaze sharpened with amusement, catching the subtle giveaway in your demeanor.

"right. c’mon, candor," she quipped, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm as she nudged you gently with her elbow. "may the truth set you free," she mocked with a smirk, her tone light but knowing. “you’ve got it bad.”

you shook your head, trying to mount a defense. "i don’t," you said, but your protest lacked the firmness you’d hoped for. peter had been the object of your intrigue since you’d met him in summer camp, the boy that used to look at you with such passion. the boy you promised your mother that you’d never even think of talking to. that undeniable truth seeped through the cracks of your words, finding its way into the spaces you desperately tried to guard. still, from across the room, he stared with that familiar passion.

christina’s grin widened, clearly finding amusement in your discomfort. she followed your gaze back to peter, who remained fixed on you with a knowing smirk. it was as if he thrived on every flicker of attention you gave him, the curve of his lips revealing his awareness. he seemed to relish in the fact that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, savoring the way his presence bothered you.

"besides, he’s a total jerk," you said, your voice trailing off as you tried to mask your uncertainty. the effort to convince yourself sounded more like a feeble excuse than a genuine assertion. you fixed your gaze away from peter, forcing yourself to focus on his flaws—his arrogance, the cruel edge in his humor, the narcissism he wielded with such practiced ease. yet, despite your best intentions, all you could think about was his lingering touch and your stolen glances. you failed at every attempt to distance yourself. it was as if he was fully aware of the internal battle you were waging and took a twisted pleasure in it.

you remembered an instance from a few nights ago.

you’d been crying in the communal bathrooms, the cold tiles beneath you doing nothing to ease the burning sensation behind your eyes. it had been a bad day—training had pushed you to your limit, the weight of your decision to leave candor pressed down hard, and the overwhelming newness of dauntless was closing in from all sides.

the tears had come suddenly, without warning, and once they started, you couldn’t stop them. you didn’t want to cry—not here, not in a place where showing weakness was as good as painting a target on your back. but you were alone, or so you thought, and it had been too much to keep inside.

then you heard the door creak open. you immediately wiped your face, hurriedly trying to compose yourself, when you heard his voice.

"didn’t expect to find you here," peter’s voice was low, casual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite place. you assumed it was taunting.

your first instinct was defensiveness. after years of being taught to hate him, after years of believing he was nothing but cruel and self-serving, you bristled at his presence. you had no idea why he was here, and the last thing you needed was to deal with peter hayes right now.

“go away, peter,” you muttered, not even bothering to look up at him. your voice came out more bitter than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. it was habit. you’d spent years convincing yourself that he was the last person you could rely on. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. you expected him to leave—maybe with a sharp remark, something that would sting, something that would remind you exactly who he was and why you should stay far away from him. but he didn’t. instead, you felt him sit down beside you, close enough for his presence to be known but not close enough to make you uncomfortable.

he didn’t speak. he didn’t tease or push. he just sat there, quiet, waiting.

you didn’t want to give in. you didn’t want to let your guard down around him, of all people. but the longer he stayed, the harder it became to keep your defenses up. the weight of the day, the exhaustion, and the relentless pressure of everything finally caught up with you. you couldn’t hold back anymore.

before you even realized what was happening, you leaned against him. your body moved on instinct, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, the sobs breaking free as the tears fell hot and heavy.

to your surprise, peter didn’t pull away. he didn’t make a comment or a joke at your expense. instead, his arm came up, hesitating for just a second before wrapping around you. his grip was firm, and he pulled you in close—just enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours. he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pry or ask questions. he just stayed there, silent and steady, letting you cry.

it wasn’t what you expected. peter was supposed to be cruel, detached, distant. but in that moment, none of that mattered. he was just there, holding you together when you felt like everything else was falling apart.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your body trembling from the release of everything you’d been holding inside. but eventually, the sobs began to subside, and you found yourself breathing a little easier, the storm inside you starting to calm.

you pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes still red and swollen from crying. “why do you do this?” you asked, your voice small and hoarse from the tears. you genuinely didn’t understand. “why do you… why are you here?”

peter’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw, something unguarded in his gaze. then, with a small, almost playful smirk, he shrugged. “don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “you know i love you.”

the words were so simple, so casually said, that they took you by surprise. but there was no sarcasm in his tone, no bite to his words. he was sincere, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear as if the words were meant to be a secret shared only between the two of you. then, with a sudden rush of either reckless confidence or desperate longing, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss just behind your ear. the tenderness of it sent a shiver down your spine. “let me be here,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, though it carried a note of quiet vulnerability. he was trying to convey reassurance, but the raw emotion in his voice felt closer to a quiet, earnest plea. 

christina said that that was when you started staring. 

you’d seen a side of him you never thought to imagine and you craved for more. but he was peter hayes. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything. not for you, not for anyone. he tried to convince himself that as well as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin on his lips. yet, there he was, aching for something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. something that made his heart race every time you was near, something that made him want to push you away and pull you closer all at once. your love.

he turned to you then, his hand brushing yours just barely, but it was enough to make his pulse quicken. you locked eyes, and for a second, and suddenly everything else that happened outside of the bathrooms faded away. he could feel your heartbeat in the air between you, the way your breath hitched, the way you wanted him to say something, anything. but he couldn’t. not yet. so he just sat there, his lips twitching into a smirk, masking everything he wasn’t ready to say.

christina’s expression shifted to one of knowing amusement, her eyebrow arching in a way that made it clear she wasn’t buying your story. "yeah, and yet here you are, still thinking about him. denial is just another form of obsession, you know."

"i am not obsessed," you snapped, a little too loudly. you tried to sound more forceful than you felt. but even to your own ears, the argument wore thin. the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, peter had managed to engrave himself into your thoughts, lingering at the edge of your consciousness like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch.

christina’s hand landed on your shoulder, the gesture both comforting and teasing. her eyes held a mix of sympathy and amusement, as if she could see right through your carefully constructed facade. "sure, keep telling yourself that," she said, her tone light but tinged with a gentle sincerity. "but pretending isn’t the same as believing."

you didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on your hands, which were twisting nervously in your lap. christina wasn’t wrong. the tension between you and peter was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to vibrate with an intensity everyone could feel when the two of you were near. 

glancing back at peter, you found him still observing you from across the pit. his gaze cut through the chaotic swirl of faces and noise, landing squarely on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. it wasn’t just a casual glance; it was as if he was deeply engrossed, his eyes soft and thoughtful, carrying an unmistakable trace of what you dared call admiration. the smirk was gone now, replaced by an expression that seemed to reveal more than he usually let on—a look that made your heart flutter against your will. 

you shifted uncomfortably, unable to shake the feeling that his gaze was dissecting every fragment of your carefully guarded emotions. in that moment, the air between you felt charged, filled with something unspoken that neither of you were ready to confront. and even as you tried to look away, his eyes seemed to follow, holding a soft, thoughtful reverence that you found both disconcerting and oddly comforting.

you reminded yourself that, no matter how warm you felt under his gaze or how infatuated you were with him, peter was still peter—the same boy who had mocked your family’s dedication to order and laughed at others’ missteps under the guise of “honesty.” his usual sarcasm and cruelty were just parts of his carefully constructed facade, a shield designed to guard against any real vulnerability.

but the way he treated you was different now in dauntless. there was always a softness in his gaze, a subtle consideration that contrasted with his usual demeanor. it made you question if beneath his cold exterior, there was a part of him that genuinely cared, revealing a side of him that was far less indifferent than he let on. it made you wonder if he wasn’t as cold as he wanted everyone to believe.

regardless, you knew you would never, in every sense of the word, let yourself fall for peter hayes. he was supposed to be a horrible person.

… but on one particularly exhausting night, after another grueling day of training, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find any solace in sleep. the unfamiliarity of dauntless gnawed at you, and the weight of leaving candor behind seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. not that you’d ever blatantly admit it, but the new environment was overwhelming. despite your best efforts to adapt, the relentless pressure was starting to crack your composure.

in the dead of night, you awoke with a start, your heart pounding and a deep sense of unease settling over you. you stumbled out of bed, the darkness amplifying your anxiety as you wandered through the dimly lit corridors of dauntless. just as the silence seemed to stretch endlessly, a soft knock broke the stillness, echoing against the cold concrete walls. there, at the end of the hall, stood peter. he stood as tall as ever, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle. his hand brushed lightly against the small of your back, pulling you a bit closer, and the warmth of his skin contrasted sharply with the chill of the night air. 

though your eyes were still heavy with sleep, you could see the rare softness in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. “hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and raspy, but surprisingly soothing. “you okay?”

“just can’t sleep,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes. you could’ve been meaner, you could’ve tried harder to push him away but you convinced yourself you were too tired to. 

even you knew you were lying. 

without a word, he guided you back to the rooms, his hand resting steady and reassuring on your waist. the warmth of his calloused skin against your arm was comforting, sending a shiver through you. your heart ached to lean more of your weight against him, to feel the full press of his body against yours. each touch felt intensely intimate, grounding you in a way that made your heart race. his calm presence was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of dauntless.

as he guided you back to the room, his touch so comforting and warm, memories from your younger years resurfaced.

you recalled how, even then, there was a strange tenderness in the way he interacted with you, though he never showed the same kindness towards others. peter was always rough with the other kids, his teasing and taunting often crossing the line into childish cruelty. 

your mother had noticed, warning you to stay away from him, claiming he was a bad influence. she saw the way he bullied others and feared that his harshness would rub off on you. so, you had learned to hate him, to see only his rough edges and disregard his rare moments of gentleness. now, feeling his warmth and seeing the softness in his eyes, those old judgments felt shaky and uncertain. It must’ve been a trick—a game he was playing. but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care, revelling in the way his skin brushed against yours.

as he helped you settle back under the covers, his touch was deliberate and achingly tender, causing a warm flush to spread through you. you wondered how you managed to muster enough hate to stay far enough away from him. the brush of his fingers against your skin, as he tucked the blankets around you, felt both intimate and possessive, sending a shiver of through your body. each contact, from his fingertips grazing your arm to his palm pressing gently on your shoulder, was charged with a longing intensity.

“you need to rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, nearly a whisper. his gaze lingered on you with a softness that was rare for him. before he turned to leave, he gently swept a few stray strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “it’s okay to be overwhelmed, sweetheart. we all are.”

you looked up at him, the tenderness of his touch and the care in his eyes sending a rush of warmth through you that made you slightly breathless. his eyes, usually so sharp, were softened by a rare, gentle affection that made your heart flutter. “thanks, peter. you didn’t have to.”

“yeah? well, i did,” he said, a crooked smile playing at his lips, his eyes twinkling with a touch of mischief. he held your hand in his and refused to let go, like he wasn’t ready to leave. you didn't want him to leave. “deal with it.” his voice was smooth, his tone almost too casual, as if the closeness was natural. as if he wasn’t acting completely out of character. his hand remained lingering by your jaw a moment longer than necessary, his touch longing like a secret between you.

you remembered early in high school, when peter had asked you out to the dance and confessed his feelings, saying he loved you. without hesitation, you’d turned him down, following your mother’s wishes. even then, he didn’t seem upset. instead, he simply promised that you’d end up loving him one day.

at the time, you didn't believe him, dismissing his words as just another piece of the game he constantly played. now, as you felt the warmth of his touch and the gentle care he’d shown, you couldn’t ignore the echoes of that past moment. you were falling for him. despite everything, you were falling for him. 

and after all that time, he was right.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tired, and raspy, but caring. it summoned butterflies to your stomach. he said it like you were the only girl in the world. suddenly, you felt like you were in middle school again, getting flustered over a boy. your mother would be so disappointed.

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it,” you said, though your eyes betrayed you as they stayed locked with him. out of a force of habit you continued, “don’t wanna talk to you.” you didn’t mean it, of course.

he let out a tired, amused laugh before bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss in the palm of your hand. you melted. “i love you anyway.”

threw 3.5k words on a tumblr post and called it a fanfic </3

[smfolklore]

Relentless. Part 2.

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Author's Note : I'm back! This is 1.4K Word's and I love it so I hope all of you do too! Let me know what else you would like to see and if you enjoyed this, please. I don't write smut very often so I'm scared LOL .

Synopsis : You taunt Tobias at Placebo. You end up on your knees, with a reminder from your boyfriend. Filthy smut I hope you love it!

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I gasp softly as my mouth slips from his.

His lips are soft and wet. His hand gripping my hair roughly and the other enveloping my ass as a way to keep my body pressed tightly to his.

I whine as I try to bring my lips to his and he holds me back by the firm hold he has on me. His words are rough, and his eyes are dark as he rasps out, “On your knees”.

A shiver travels the expanse of my spine and goosebumps explode across my skin as I mindlessly sink to the floor. 

This is what I wanted. To have him snap. He’s the epitome of a man that possesses self-control, so being capable of forcing him to lose that control is a pastime of mine. I love watching him lose himself in me.

My eyes don’t stray from his own as I begin to palm at him. My fingers tracing the fabric and lingering on the spots that elicit a gasp, exhale, or grunt from him. A smile curves up my mouth as I catch the arousing sound of his stuttered breath.

“Is this what you want?” My tone is playing innocently stupid.

It’s not until I feel his grip tighten and watch the glint of lust in his eyes expand that I decide to pull out his cock. My mouth is practically salivating as I watch him hiss at the sensitivity and I use this moment to gently kiss the tip, my lips puckered against it before softly taking it into my mouth.

I suck softly and listen to the gasp that befalls my ears. He’s so fucking hot when he’s desperate. I feel my cunt clenching at the mere sound of his soft grunts as I slowly take him further in, “Fuck baby, your mouth is incredible”.

I mewl in approval at the compliments slipping past his lips and I use it as encouragement, my lips tightening as I pull back and pop off of him. Before he can say anything, I spit softly onto his cock and use my palm to stroke the lubricant across his entire length. 

His breathing pattern has risen and his eyes are hooded as he watches me stroke his cock. His gaze is penetrating and it’s making my pussy wet beyond what I thought possible. I can see the filth in his eyes and it’s only exciting me for what’s to come.

I suck harshly on the tip of his length as I use my palm to stimulate the rest of his cock and I can’t help the pulsing of my clit as I listen to the sound of his rough grunting.

Tobias’s grip is tight as he enters a phase of frustration and overwhelming desire. I gasp wetly as he roughly entangles his fist within the long strands of my dark hair. With my chin directed up, my eyes snap to his, low and so turned on as I whine out in a petulant tone, “I want to make you come”.

An amused smirk curves up his lips.

My pussy clenches. Fuck he’s so hot.

I pucker my lips and kiss his cock softly before he’s yanking me away from his erection with a correcting tut, “Nuh-uh. I didn’t say I wanted to come yet, did I?”.

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s punishing me for the way that I relentlessly provoked him tonight and I want to internally yell; and then provoke him further. But I know that if I do, I’ll come out losing tonight, so I pout and give him what he’s looking for.

Submission.

I let my body relax into his hold, my chin tilted up so that I’m at his mercy with the steel grip he has on me. I soften my gaze and lightly whisper out, “No. You didn’t”.

He notches an eyebrow and the look on his face solely convey’s amusement and a hint of… satisfaction. His gaze settles on my lips, swollen and flushed, “Open your mouth”, he demand’s sternly.

Instinctively, I listen. My lips parting effortlessly, and my tongue rolling out with relative speed.

I watch the way that he utilizes his own grip to stroke his hard cock, the movement tight as it meets his tip, and loose as he meets the base. My eyes stay connected to the image in front of me and I have to stop myself from whining at the distaste of not being given permission to touch him the way that I so desperately want.

My cunt is so wet, and he can see the arousal in my gaze as he coos mockingly, “Are you wet, baby?”.

I mewl. My eyes are blown out and my agreement is fast as I nod, desperately trying to convey how fucking badly I need him to fuck me and his only response is a mocking, “Of course you are… this slutty little pussy would get wet only from sucking my cock. Wouldn’t it?”

I whimper loudly at his degrading phrase. My clit is pulsing with an incessant desire to come and I keep my gaze on his cock as I let slip a small, “Yes… Can I? Please?”.

His grin is full of satisfaction and it’s oozing from his tone as he lets his length slip into my mouth, and softly touch the back of it. I use all the knowledge that I have come to gather in my time with him and apply it in order to take the entirety of his length. I only know that I have when an unmistakable whimper escapes his slightly parted mouth.

The tip of my nose is pressed softly to the firm muscle of his abdomen as I take his cock all the way into my mouth and I swallow, once, pulling a choked gasp from him. My mind is spacy, and I only think of the man standing before me. His lips, his hands, his cock. He’s built like a wet-dream.

In an attempt to inhale more air, I suck harshly as I pull my lips back only to feel the vice-like hold that Tobias has on the nape of my neck. I’m only alarmed for a second before I’m embracing it, inhaling through my nose and fluttering my eyes closed. “Just like that…”.

Time is endless as I kneel in front of him, licking and sucking on his length. Listening to the filthy sound of his grunting, and the consistent wet slide that is the tight grip I have on him as I stroke his cock.

His thighs start to shake and his grip flips from the rough hold on the nape of my neck to a soft palm steering my mouth further down the length of his dick. I gag softly, my throat closing around the head of his cock, and I nod feverently and as best as I can when he gasps out, “Fuck, I’m coming! Oh… god. Such a perfect mouth”.

My clit is pulsing and I whine with my lips still softly sucking the tip of his cock, swallowing the thick pulses of come that he shot into my mouth. My eyes never abandon his as I do so, and I have a hazy grin on my lips as I pull away from him.

His chest is moving rapidly and he’s staring at me with lowered eyes, his face flushed and with a sheen of perspiration. 

A small smile slips onto my face and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me as I look up at him, the stern atmosphere that was there just a moment ago, now broken. “You came so hard”.

He grins tiredly and caresses his palm lightly on my cheek, his thumb coming into soft contact with my lip, “Yeah?”. I hum in response to his question, clenching my thighs together at the sound of his low remark.

His eyes darken within a second as he spots it and I fight to withhold the hitch in my breathing pattern as they meet my own.

I’m so fucked.

He hums, finding my inability to sit still amusing, and he mutters in finality as he softly caresses my lips with his thumb, “You will too, when I decide that you finally can”. My eyes show my alarm and this only encourages him, “You like taunting me? Like making me wait?”.

I swallow and sit still, letting his gaze consume me as I stay looking up at him from my position on my knees. “Have you forgotten who’s the student?”.

[bibi288]

The Hunt x Erudition

Dual DPS Comp. ♡♡

The lovely monsters of their respective path.

[savi-of-ithaca]

i'm really doing anything BUT studying, huh? anyways this quiz says my divergent faction is erudite. how ironic

[atac-agent]

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

[neanderthyall]

I've been thinking too much about YA dystopia, and my brain zoomed back to 2015 like "what Divergent faction would the Crows be in 🤔🤔"

[lilithslittleworld]

hello darling! please please please can you write something fluffy for jeanine matthews? i love her so much and it would mean a lot to me :) have a lovely day!!

The Exception

A/N: Hello! I tried my hardest to write this, Jeanine doesn’t really come naturally to me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it!:)

Summary: Even after years of knowing each other, Jeanine still holds a soft spot for her favorite Erudite, even if (dun dun dunnnn) you weren’t born into her faction. (Jeanine Matthews x Gender Neutral Reader)

Switching into Erudite at 16 from another faction was far from a simple process. Not only had you left your family and friends behind, but you’d also said goodbye to your way of life. However, your thirst for knowledge had weighed over the rest, marking your first true calculated decision. Nothing stood in your way the day you watched your blood spill into the crystal clear water-filled bowl. Adjusting to your new life, though, became a much more challenging experience. Your days were longer, lonelier, with your workload only ever increasing. The coldness of your other fellow faction members became palpable and your days in the labs served as daily reminders of your inexistent social life. Except for one thing.

Late one night, during your first few weeks after the Choosing Ceremony, you were continuing your research on the neurological impacts of a new drug that one of your superiors was developing. Those were the moments where you needed human interaction and contact the most, when suddenly, the most improbable of things happened. Out of the corner of your eye, you recognized the silhouette of one of your faction members, Jeanine. Her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she stood in doorframe, observing you.

“I’m not a firm believer in putting nearly as many late nights as you have,” she said, her voice strong but friendly. “You’re quite new to Erudite, aren’t you?”

You nodded, wondering if it was really that obvious.

Jeanine laughed. “That must make this much lonelier than for the rest of us,” she noted, slowly approaching your desk.

“It hasn’t been the simplest,” you admitted sheepishly, wanting so desperately to come across as solely logical.

“Well, the human being does need companionship. It’s vital for our survival,” she answered gently, so close to your work that you were sure she could read it.

“You’re Jeanine, aren’t you?” you asked, knowing quite well that everyone, Erudite born or not, knew her by name. Jeanine was the ideal example of what it meant to be in and from Erudite. She had been born into the faction, dedicated all of her time and resources to it, and had chosen it again in the Choosing Ceremony. She was diligent, assertive, guided by logic, and persistent, obtaining most of the results she sought. Greatest of all, she welcomed and nurtured knowledge, making it fairly easy to connect with her.

“I’m sure a smart person like yourself already knew that, though,” she smiled, extending her hand towards you, “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N,” you answered swiftly, “I transferred from *(insert faction of choice)*”

“And what made you choose Erudite, if I may ask?”

Discussing old factions wasn’t something that was usually allowed but Jeanine’s curiosity seemed genuine and the lab was empty. “I think I’ve always known I wasn’t made for that faction. I was too curious, too driven by the pursuit of knowledge to fit in. I’m glad that one of my strengths is greatly recognized and appreciated in Erudite,” you answered truthfully, taking into account the warmth that has spread across your face as you admitted it.

“It sounds like you made a very well calculated decision indeed,” she agreed, smiling at you softly, “It sounds like we’ll have a lot in common, Y/N.”

————————————————————————

Your years of youth went by but as they did, your friendship with Jeanine strengthened. Thanks to her, you had been offered countless research positions, had begun to fit in better with your peers, and had internalized your Erudite identity more deeply. Jeanine became an integral part of your day-to-day life, spending almost all of your time together.

Jeanine’s power, however, began to soar, her ideas becoming more radical by the minute. Your paths didn’t cross as frequently during these years and you found yourself resenting her. You didn’t like the person she was becoming or the new ideas she was preaching, they were dangerous and unlike her. It also hurt you deeply that she had replaced you with the newfound power and social status she gained, you were no longer her equal but her subordinate, like many other Erudites. The girl with long golden hair had been replaced by a cold, authoritarian stranger (who only wore her hair up.)

The word of overthrowing Abnegation reached you from one of your fellow researchers, who thankfully, opposed the whole idea of it. Your stomach dropped as you found out what Jeanine had been planning these past years, the explanation to her new persona who caused you so much discomfort. How could she do this? Erudite wasn’t about hierarchy or violence, it was a place for fostering research, knowledge, and rationality. It became clear how dangerous power was when mixed with all of these factors, realizing that what Jeanine lacked most was compassion and humanity, something that couldn’t be grown in a lab. You knew you would never obey whatever rules she forced the faction to go through but you also knew that saying no wasn’t an option. You would have to escape. But how? And to where?

One Friday night, a few weeks before Jeanine’s planned attack, you stood outside of her office door. It was no longer useful to go to her place to find her, as she seemed to live in her office and its quarters. It had been many months since you had been there, it felt eerie to be back in a place you once loved so much. You knocked on the door, taking a deep breath as you heard Jeanine’s voice telling you to go in.

“It’s a Friday night, whatever questions that aren’t explicitly necessary at the moment must wait until Mon- Y/N?” Jeanine realized it was you standing before her and not one of her students.

“Hello, Jeanine,” you answered politely, making sure to hold your already packed bag behind your back. You didn’t want her catching onto your plan but you knew you couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, even if it wasn’t a direct goodbye.

“What can I do for you?” she asked carefully, eyeing you up and down as she did.

“I just felt I’ve never thanked you for landing me all of the research positions I’ve been offered,” you answered truthfully, watching as her eyes softened at your words. “I know things aren’t as they were but I owe you quite a lot.”

Jeanine smiled slightly, standing up over her desk as she did. “You showed promise in your work and in this faction, Y/N. Everything you are and everything you have today is because of your merit, there is no need to thank me.”

“I didn’t work for our friendship though,” you replied softly, staring at your shoes for a few seconds before looking back up at Jeanine.

“Well, that came naturally,” she answered simply, “For that I must thank you too but also apologize. My work is everything to me and I must live up to the expectations of the faction as well as my own but I do miss our times together.”

You nodded, fully expecting her answer. “I understand, in many ways I always knew this is the Jeanine you’d grow into but I cannot stand by and watch you destroy so much,” you sighed, turning towards the door. The conversation had lost the little comfort it had minutes ago and you had no intention of getting angry at Jeanine, at least not to her face.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” She asked, before catching a slight glance at the bag in your hand. “You’re not leaving the faction, are you?” She gasped.

“I have to,” you answered firmly, her little display of human emotions wouldn’t sway you in the opposite direction.

“You could be killed!” She exclaimed. She took two long strides towards you, grabbing your arms as she spoke, “Y/N you’ll be factionless, that’s worse than death. You cannot simply leave your faction behind, there are rules set in place. This is a breach of said rules! Faction before blood.”

“Then help me, Jeanine. I cannot stand by and watch you destroy our faction and every other one at that!” You were shouting now, unable to understand what she was feeling, what she was thinking. Why hadn’t she alerted anyone yet?

“I can’t,” she whispered softly, “I cannot turn my back on my faction. But I also cannot let you die or be killed, Y/N.”

“If you don’t notify anyone about my departure or disappearance, you would already be doing me a favor,” you said softly.

Jeanine shook her head, “I cannot go against the rules, the ones I preach to live by. If we begin to break them, chaos will emerge and plague our society. It is the only thing keeping us in place, keeping us alive.”

You didn’t say anything, not daring to add more tension to the conversation. Your odds were 50/50: or she’d find the will to let you slip away or she’d have you arrested. “I’m not asking for your permission, just for your discretion. That’s not breaking any rules,” you reasoned.

Jeanine walked back to her desk silently, putting her face in her hands as she sat down. “You can never say a word to anyone about this,” she began slowly, “not even to your new faction members or wherever you go. I will make an exception just this once because it’s you. If we were to cross paths again in a situation like this one, I will not be as lenient.”

“I understand.”

“Go, Y/N,” she whispered, gesturing towards the door and you listened.

“Wait,” she called out, just as you were about to shut the door behind you. “Let me know you’re okay and alive at some point in time, however you’d like but let me know. Good luck, Y/N.”

You turned around, nodding your head and smiling slightly at the woman who had just saved your life.

“I’ll never forget you, Jeanine.”

[ghostedgrim]

Too Blunt?

Masterlist Request Page

Synopsis: After getting Dauntless on her aptitude test, a girl happily takes the opportunity to escape her suffocating life as the "perfect" daughter of a Candor lawyer and leader. (Snarky ex rich Candor girl x Four)

Warnings: Implied abuse, death, father speaks hurtful words to his daughter on visiting day.

Today is the most important day of my life, and to no one's suprise my parents demand I look my utter best, and of course, wear a dress. Personally, I think a dress is probably the worst thing to wear for what I have planned, but I guess I'll make do.

I grab a long bodycon dress. It's black, the fabric thin and breathable with a square neckline and a hem that reaches my mid shin, along with a slit trailing up to my mid thigh. Black because my parents will likely view me as dead after today, I'll be dead to them for my betrayal. Also I don't want anyone at my new faction to see my sweat. I pair my dress with black square-toe flats, then for the final touch pulled on a short white jacket with black accents.

I can not wait to leave.

Yes, the luxury of rich parents is nice, we have a penthouse, nice view, parties, but trust me, this grass is only spray painted green. My mother is a part of the Candor Council and my father a lawyer. They know how people work and what makes them tick. They know how to tell a truth with multiple meanings.

If asked what faction they hope I join, they reply, "I believe and hope she will choose the proper faction for her." Everyone thinks they're supportive of any future I take, but they're not. To them Candor is the perfect faction for me because Candor is perfection, Erudite is proper and still a good option because they work with math and science which goes perfectly hand in hand with truth, Amity and Abnegation are strange but a peaceful option, Dauntless... well, they hate Dauntless. To them, Dauntless are chaotic ruffians with hardly no law or education. This is somewhat true because many choose to ignore and even skip classes while young.

After breakfast, I meet my parents beside their car, it's sleek and white with a black trim. We exchange brief conversation, mom and dad prattle on about how Candor and Erudite are such perfect factions for me and how they believe I'll make the proper choice for myself and them. And I'm all too happy to leave the car once we arrive at The Hub. The tallest building in the city, and I'm quite thankful we arrived early because that means the elevators aren't as full. Unfortunately, that means I must also converse a bunch before the ceremony.

"Mother, I feel stressed about today, may I sit down instead of talking to everyone," I ask calmy.

"No, now go speak with Ms. Matthew and the other Erudites. If you're planning to transfer out of Candor, It's best you make a good relationship before joining them," my mother orders, her eyes feel like steel coiling around my throat, preventing me from giving any form of retort.

It feels like days have past, but really it was only an hour before Johanna makes her speech and began the ceremony. Johanna is the leader of Amity. With every name she calls, my heart seems to beat faster and faster as she gets closer to my name.

"... Verity." I stand and walk to the center stage. Each movement is controlled, perfect, exactly the way my parents want it to be. Candor is the perfect option, Erudite is the proper choice... I'm tired of it.

Just because you can only speak truth doesn't mean you can't manipulate. That's the issue with my faction, everyone here thinks their perfect and even pure simply because they don't lie. They're convinced that by eliminating lies they have eliminated evil.

But truth does not eliminate evil, a pacifist cannot do anything to stop evil when it steps on their door, being smart simply works as a gun for good and evil to wield. Brains, truth, pacifism, none of that eradicates evil, nor does it stop it from forming...

I cut my palm letting my blood sizzle onto the hot coals below.

But a good punch can certainly make it fuck off for a bit.

Thank God I wore this dress, otherwise I would've never been able to run and jump onto the train. The sound of the running train deafens the sound of people talking around me. It was so loud that I almost didn't hear the warning about us jumping off. I don't pay much attention to Dauntless. All my life, I've tried to avoid them and their chaos, but even I knew they don't wait for trains to stop before jumping.

"Where are we jumping!" I yell, but no one answered. I lean my head out the door and to my shock, "Are they trying to kill us!?"

I'm supposed to jump off a moving train onto a damn building! What the actual fuck?

"Scared princess?" I turn to see an Erudite boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, height wise, I can only reach his shoulder. He moves to stand behind me, "Need me to give you a push."

I promptly stomp my heel on the toe of his shoe and backed away from the door, "Hard pass prince charming." The boy glares at me before returning his attention to the door. When it comes time to jump, he turns around to flash me a smile. I smiled back, then ran forward as fast as I could and jumped off the train.

Time slowed, initiates seemed to float in the air beside me, all wearing colors of black, blue, and white, I made the mistake of looking down and my body filled with cold terror. What if I don't make it. The ledge is getting closer and closer, fuck. Did I jump too early?

SMACK!

I slip on the gravel as I land, I slide down hard onto the right side of my body, no doubt covering my right forearm and lower legs in scratches, my teeth smack together as my jaw rams into the ground. "Fuck..."

"Agreed," someone groans out beside me, and I turn to see the Erudite boy from earlier sprawled out on his back. Two screams burst out behind us, and I jump up and turn to see several people crowd around the ledge. "Don't look."

"Don't tell me what to do," I snapped at the boy and watched as an Amity boy was hauled onto the roof. I peer over the ledge, someone's hand grabs my wrist and hauls me back. Unfortunately, it was not fast enough to see the dead person who failed to make it onto the roof. I press my hands to my face, trying to calm my breathing. Someone hugs me from the side, their hand rubbing my shoulder.

"Alright listen up!" I pull away from the person, only giving a quick enough glance to see they're a Dauntless born. I then look to the person speaking. "I'm Eric, I am one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in. He stands atop the roof ledge. He wears all black, vest, shirt, pants, two peircings above his left brow and one per ear, his hair cropped at the sides and slicked back. "And if you don't have the guts to jump... then you don't belong in Dauntless. Someone's gotta be first. Who's it gonna be." The man jumps down from the ledge, watching us with a critical eye.

"So what, we jump on a moving train, jump off a moving train onto a rooftop, and now you want us to jump off the roof?" I scoff, and cross my arms.

Eric smirks, "thanks for volunteering." He swings his arm out, inviting me forward and as much as I want to back down Eric's body language, especially his eyes, warn me that backing down like a coward is definitely not the safest of my options. So I mutter a curse under my breath and walk forward.

With shaking hands I climb onto the ledge. If there's one thing I know, the longer you wait the more the anxiety builds. So with my back to the small crowd, I cast them a glace over my shoulder before looking down at the gaping hole before me and jumped.

A scream tore through my lips as I plummeted. For a moment I thought I might die, that Eric would use me as an example of what not to do as a Dauntless initiate. I would be remembered as the dumb initiate that jumped because she was told too.

I pass through the lip of the hole and to my supries saw dim lights. I had barely any time to think on it before I slammed into a net and bounced several times. And once the bouncing stopped, I lay there, trying to gather my senses. My ears pick up joyus whoops and hollers, then hands appear. They wrap around my arms and drag me from the net. I find myself standing before a tall man, brown hair, brown eyes, a shadow of hair across his jaw, and defined facial features.

"You alright," his voice is deep, with a hint of a rumble, "Did you get pushed."

I scoffed, "No, I jumped. Somewhat unwillingly. Tell the Eric guy he's a dickbag for me."

"Straight to the point I see, then again you're from Candor. If I were you, I'd be more careful about the way you speak about your superiors," he warns, then lets go of my arm. "You got a name?"

"Obviously, I have a name, it's ... Verity." The man nods, announcing my name and that I'm the first jumper before telling me to stand by the wall. A few moments later the Erudite boy falls.

"Damien! Second jumper!" The man announces. More cheers and Damien jobs over to me with a blinding smile.

"Only fair the prince follows the princess so she isn't alone," Damien teases.

"So what prince are you? Brother, or wannabe lover?" I deadpan.

Damien clicks his tongue, "I'm gay so obviously, brotherly."

"If you ever try or even joke about pushing me off a moving train, I will kill you."

"That's fair," Damien shrugs.

We remain standing side-by-side as the remainder of initiates jump. About 23 total, 11 transfer, and 12 Dauntless born. The twelve Daniel born are taken away by a woman instructor whom I've already forgotten the name of, while the brown hair guy calls the rest of us over to him.

"My name is Four," he announces, and I stifle a chuckle that makes Damien roll his eyes, "Mind telling me what's so funny?"

"Of all the names a man could choose, and you name yourself Four. Are there people named One, Two, and Three running around that you call siblings?" I grin, and Damien mutters something under his breath.

Four stalks forward, the initiates around me back away giving him space, bringing his face close to mine he speaks, "If you plan to survive here, then keep your mouth shut. Don't make me warn you again." Four's voice came out like a deep rumble, and I couldn't tell if I was scared or really attracted to it.

When Four walks away, Damien elbows me in the side, "Ow."

"Do you have a death wish?" He half-whispers.

I shrug and turn my attention to Four as he gives us a tour of Dauntless, pointing out the chasm, hub, cafeteria, and the dorms. I grimace at the sight of the hideous concrete room, metal cots, communal bathroom, at least the showers and bathrooms had a private stall for each one. If I'm lucky, I can snag a stall to change in during morning and night.

Four notices my obvious look of disgus. "Too much for you, princess? I thought you enjoyed luxurious suites like this room?" He mocks, and I resist the urge to punch his gut.

"It's quite lovely actually," I bite back, "in fact, it quite matches your sparkling personality."

Four goes to retort but is interrupted by a boy Candor transfer, "When do you get our uniforms?"

"You don't," Four replies, "depending on your rank, and skill shown throughout training you will earn points that you can exchange for clothes, body modifications, makeup, and whatever the hell else you want to spend it on. Now go pick a bunk and come to the cafeteria for dinner," Four orders.

Watching Four go over various kicks, punches, blocks, and forms is starting to make me wish I went against my parents demands and wore pants. Earlier this morning Eric had informed us the lowest five preforming inmates get kicked. I had almost spoke up against that rule, but thought better of it knowing Eric was a leader, he could probably kick me out for just looking at him wrong. It's a stupid rule, especially because as far as I'm aware Dauntless doesn't have any overpopulation issues.

Four finally dismisses us to the punching bags, and my legs protest every step. He and Eric took us on a quarter mile run. I barely survived. Next week it'll be half a mile. I definitely won't survive that.

Once at my bag I move into a fighting stance, feet spread, from foot pointed at the bag, back foot planted on the ground perpendicular to the front foot. My hits are weak, my form certainly not the best. Right now I want nothing more than a hot shower and my b-

"With a form like that you won't survive the matches starting tomorrow," a low voice speaks behind me. I turn to see Four, his gaze critiquing my posture, his arms crossed.

"What's it to you?" I snap.

Four rolls his shoulders then reaches out to shrink my too-wide stance, bring my fist closer to my jaw. "There. Unless you want to get hit, keep your fists up so you can block your sides and head with your forearms. Also don't make your stance so wide, not only do you look stupid, it makes moving and kicking alot harder." Four pulls away and moves to stand beside me, "As for why I care. I'm your instructor, it's my job to prevent as much of you from failing as possible. Now hit the bag is if it's someone you hate."

"So pretend I'm hitting you. Got it," I quip. Four only offers a few critiques and tips before walking away. I try to focus, but honestly my mind seems more focused on what Four's hands on my hips and the feeling of him standing so close behind me that I could feel his breath practically caress my neck.

"Careful," and my knees nearly go weak from the way the word rolled off his tongue like a soft rumble.

Over the course of the month, I grew stronger, my stamina longer, my muscles more prominent too. While I was certainly not the most skilled at fighting, the wit of my tonge remained strong. I used the points I earned to buy myself more comfortable clothes; boots, pants, shirts, I even gave myself the tattoo of the Candor symbol, encased in flames. I was even contemplating getting peircings, but I couldn't tell if I wanted them out of a wish to rebel against the way I was raised or because I actually wanted one.

Tonight was the night before visiting day. Last week had marked the end of our first part of initiation, and I dread thinking of what will happen next week.

Damien was standing in front of his bunk, ranting about how he's excited to see his sister. I watch him from my perch in his bunk. Over the past month, he'd gone from scrawny to quite musclar. It was almost scary to think about the sheer change. Snakebite peircings and blonde hair now green, Damien was certainly embracing the punk side of Dauntless.

We've both grown quite a bit since the Choosing Ceremony, the same way my crush on Four has only worsened.

Training, walking around Dauntless, cafeteria, I often try to find Four somewhere in the crowd. Most times, he's already staring at me. I shiver.

"You alright."

I break from my thoughts to see Damien squatting down in front of me. "I'm fine," I have to force the lie out. I've gotten better at lying, but it's nearly impossible to do it to the people I'm close to.

Damien shakes his head, and moves to sit on his cot beside me. "You're an awful liar."

"Yeah! I'm well aware!" A few other initiates turn to us at my outburst. Perhaps my feelings for Four weren't my only concern. "What if my parents actually come tomorrow? I hate them, but I'm so scared to see that inevitable look of disappointment." I slump against Damien's should, and he wraps an arm around me.

"Faction before blood. Dauntless is your faction, Dauntless is your family, you are my sister, and I am proud of you. Your parents are merely the people that made you and raised you. Unfortunately, they chose to turn you into a miniature of them and force away the true you. Whatever happens, your true family is here, and I will punch your parents for you if you need."

"Thanks..." I reply, and Damien rests his chin on my head.

Silence settles around us, a comfortable one that helps me relax a bit. "I asked Aaron out," Damien suddenly blurts out.

I pull away, turning to face him, "Ex Candor Aaron!" But Damien shakes his head, his grin bright.

"Nope! The Dauntless born Aaron. Black hair, chiseled face."

My mouth drops open in suprise, "I thought he was homophonic?"

Damien's grin turns almost feral, "Was. But then he lost a bet, we kissed, he liked it," Damien's hands move dramatically to emphasize each word, "he wanted to experiment, and let's just say I preformed real good."

"Gross. There's no way you're telling the truth."

"I am," Damien lounges back against his pillow.

"In that case, I guess I'll need to get some tips from you about winning over my crush sometime."

Damien sits up faster than I can blink, "who is it?"

"Not telling," I sing, and Damien pouts. "See ya tomorrow." I wave and walk over to my cot.

A permanent frown is etched into my face as I watch families mingle down in the pit. I already spotted my parents looking for me earlier, but I made no move to join them.

Someone walks up beside me but I say nothing.

"Wow. No snarky comment, sneer, or anything. Are you okay?" I'm surprised to hear Four sounds actually sincere.

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. You can talk to me about it," Four offers.

"As if you know anything about shitty parents," I sneer.

Four's gaze darkend, locking his jaw and I realize I hit a nerve, fuck. "Trust me, I do know." Four then quickly walks off.

Eventually, Damien hunts me down and drags me from my beloved hiding spot to meet his sister, but we get intercepted.

"I see you've enjoyed it here," I tense and turn to face my father, who is flanked by my mother. "Your friend is... interesting."

I cross my arms and glare at them. "I'm surprised you came."

"Yes, well," my mother starts, "while you may have joined a faction far beneath us, I must admit I was curious to see just how much you let yourself go. And it seems you've lost all sense of acting a proper lady." All sense of confidence seeps from my body as my mother scolds my appearance with her eyes.

Damien finally speaks up, "How dare you speak to her that way!"

My mother shrugs, "I'm simply speaking the truth. Tell your boyfriend to cool it."

"I have a boyfriend," Damien growls.

A look of utter disgust appears on my father's face, and before I can speak, he drags me away. I tried to grab onto Damien, but we'd already lost him in the crowd.

"Had I known you've fallen so far, I would've ordered someone to make you Factionless," my father snarls.

"What's so wrong about -"

"Do not interrupt me," just by an order from my father, I go stiff and silent. Just how I was before leaving Candor. Docile, pretty, soft.

"First, you betray us by joining Dauntless off all factions. I might've forgiven you if it was Amity of Abnegation, but you join Dauntless. Now you've cut your hair all short," I touch my hair, I had forgotten I cut it after too many initiates kept pulling it during sparring matches. "Look at your clothes, they're hideous, and with that cropped tank top, you look like a sl-"

"That's enough," someone growls beside me. My gaze snaps to Four as he pulls me closer to him. "Get out before I remove you both by force." My father goes to argue, but Four punches him in the face before he can finish.

I remain silent and unwilling to fight back as Four guides me through the halls, and he doesn't stop until he's confident we're alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Four asks while leaning against the rock wall. The dim blue light around us highlights his features.

"I don't know," my voice it quiet.

Four stares at me, as if taking in my every detail, every move, and emotion, like I'm a book. "Why did you join Dauntless?"

My heart sinks. He probably thinks I'm unworthy or something. "To escape my parents."

Four merely cocks his head, "If your sole goal was to escape you would've ran to Amity. Why did you come here?"

"Why do you care?" I snap.

Four sits on the ground and pats the space beside him. Despite myself, I sit.

"You don't have to talk about it. But understand I get it. Having a parent raising you to be impossibly perfect, who cares about their public image. That hate for yourself because you don't feel good enough even after you leave, still being afraid of them after you escape. Trust me, I get it. And if you bottle it, it will just consume you."

A gasp almost escapes me, he's Marcus's son. "Why are you telling me this?"

"When we met, I thought you were going to be some bratty rich girl, you wouldn't last. You're still a bit of a brat," he chuckles, "but you're also a fighter. Strong, unwilling to bend or break, and the fucking way you smile. I must admit I'm jealous, but more than that I confess I want nothing more than to kiss you."

"You like me?"

"Alot more than I'm willing to admit."

"I came to Dauntless because I'm tired of feeling weak and unable to fight back." Four looks at me intently. "All my life it was dresses, being told how to act, stand, sit, talk. I felt like a doll, and if I made one error I would get yelled at and locked in my room for a week at the least. It was suffocating and I always felt so utterly powerless. Here at Dauntless I'm strong, I'm free, I can actually fight." I look down at my hands, and Four rests one of his atop mine, and I squeeze it.

"You said you wanted to kiss me."

"Badly," he added.

"Then kiss me."

One minute Four is looking at me like I grew two heads, and the next his lips are upon mine. My hands find purchase on his shoulders, both his hands cup my face. He kisses me like he's starved. His lips are soft, and warm and I practically melt into the kiss.

We pull away for a moment, then slowly we kiss again. "Please be mine," Four mumbles against my lips.

"I am yours," I mutter back as we kiss again. Eventually, we settle, simply sitting in the empty hall, me in Four's arms, his head on my chin.

"I knew it!"

"Fuck!" My head slams against Four's jaw as I jolt making Four groan in pain.

"Man I fucking knew it! Maria owes me $20," Damien cackles, so I chuck my shoe at him and grace him my middle finger.

Author's note: I'm sorry it took so long, my dad was in the hospital for colon cancer, and his girlfriend got offended that my mom knew of the situation which was a hole issue. Fortunately things have calmed down, my dad's surgery was successful, and he's doing chemo to ensure it doesn't come back.

I hope you enjoyed the fic. Please share feedback, I happily accept constructive criticism.

[jeaninesfavouriteserum]

reblogging this because i have more mutuals now but i had THAT SAME FEELING today and it made me want to crawl in a hole with my books and never leave

hello, hello! consider this a fiction call for help: anyone fictionhearted/fictionkin, or anyone with a hearthome, this is for you!

i'm looking for ways to feel closer to the characters i hold so dear and ways to feel closer to my hearthome (as well as what might be a second one?? i'm still not sure on it). the characters in question are currently:

- my f/o, jeanine matthews <3 (divergent)!

- esmé squalor (asoue)

- cruella de vil (101 dalmatians)

my hearthome is chicago, from divergent! i'm looking for ways to:

- feel a little closer to chicago

- feel more like part of v.f.d. (it may be a hearthome, it may not be, i have no idea :) i just want to feel closer to there)

plsplspls comment/reblog with tips and ideas, your girl is getting desperate out here :D anyway, thanks for reading this far, and have a lovely day!!!

[schroedingerscryptid]

also ever since i first saw the "Useless Scholar" i've always been incredibly interested in the concept of nous being so frustrated by aha but also aha being a fuckin SCHOLAR. there's a lot to unpack there and it's got me very interested in aeon lore

[charlotteking23]

Would you be willing to do an Eric Coulter arranged marriage AU one shot where Eric and reader are put into an arranged marriage to further unite Erudite and Dauntless, or a soulmate AU one shot where the reader is originally from Erudite and switched to dauntless, she works as a doctor and they meet after Eric ends up in the infirmary for some reason. In either case, the reader is early 20’s and Eric is around 26, and everyone is older when the choosing ceremony takes place instead of being teenagers.

Cara Mia

Eric Coulter x fem reader (Jeanine's daughter)

"What the fuck, you put me in an arranged marriage", Eric yelled angrily toward Max.

yes, but it's beneficial because the girl you are marrying is Jeanine's daughter and is to further unite Erudite and Dauntless", Max said walking up to Eric and handing him a picture of you.

It was a picture of you in blue clothes with your hair down smiling in the photo. Eric had to admit you were beautiful, but it didn't matter, he wasn't the type to settle down.

"When do I meet her?", Eric said stuffing the photo in his back pocket.

"Tomorrow".

Y/N P.O.V

What, No mom I refused to get married to a guy I don't even know", You complained to your mom. You always knew this would happen, your mother using you for her own personal gain but you wished it wasn't today.

"It doesn't matter you will get married whether you like it or not. He's a Dauntless leader one of the youngest and was originally from Erudite himself". Jeanine finishes with no emotion on her stone-cold face.

She made it sound so easy to get married to a complete stranger but you had to do you had no other choice. She gave you a picture of the Dauntless leader, he looked scary with his piercings and tattoos. Blond hair and all-black outfits showing off his arms, no smile but his blue eyes were the most beautiful of his features.

"When do I meet him?-"

"Tomorrow"

I couldn't sleep at all, thinking about my future husband. What if he hates me? What if ignores me? so many scenarios coming to my head. I was too nervous to sleep waiting anxiously to meet my future husband.

I woke early the next morning trying to figure out what to wear.

"Good, you look presentable", my mother said before leaving out the door towards the car. I followed her waiting anxiously till we arrived.

Two Dauntless guards escorted us out of the car to the head of the leader of the Dauntless office.

I saw the guy in the photo looking displeased at everything, I could tell he wasn't so thrilled about the engagement.

"Eric this is my daughter", Jeanine introduced us to each other.

"we will leave you alone to get to know each other better", Max said before walking out with my mother closing the door.

"Look we both know we are not happy about this engagement but we should make the most of it right", I said but in return, I only heard a scoff.

"It doesn't matter but you should be happy to marry a dauntless leader like me, Cara Mia", Eric said in a cocky tone stepping closer to me.

Blushing I replied, "Why don't we try to get to each other, I'm Y/n, I am 20 years old, and my favorite color is (whatever you want)."

"Eric a Dauntless leader, 26, and Black"

"Isn't that just a fitting color for", I said gesturing to his clothes. For the first time, I saw him smile since I came here, which was beautiful.

We continued to talk and laugh, getting to know each other and surprisingly we had a lot in common. It wasn't until Eric had pointed out the time, we had been talking for two hours.

Time skip Eric P.O.V

"where the fuck is she?" Eric mumbled in annoyance entering the cafeteria, his eyes landed on Four, who was seated by the table alone. Somehow you and Four became best friends forcing him to tolerate Four.

Huffing, Eric approached the table Four was seated at. "what do you want Eric? I thought you were tired of me after you kicked me out of the training session earlier."

"That's because you disobeyed my orders by interrupting my session, with that being said have you seen my wife", Eric said barely looking at Four.

It's weird how fast Eric's life changed since he got married. He never imagined getting married but never thought he could enjoy being someone's husband. He usually calls you by your name but for some reason, the word wife feels good to say especially if it's you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were the best thing to ever happen to him, his everything.

"no, I haven't seen Y/n", Four said in a neutral voice.

Eric left after Four's reply stomping out of the canteen, making sure to brush a few weak initiates out of his way.

Eric thought not only were born with a sharp Erudite mind but a witty tongue, but you were also beautiful.

With steady steps, Eric quickly made his way down the corridors, a hard look on his face trying to remember where you were. With a slight grin, he thought back to last night when you two shared a steamy shower under the moonlight.

Eric was truly happy to see your face every morning when waking up. He was lucky to be your husband, to have in-depth conversations with you about whatever, to please you in every way possible, to read to you every night in bed, and then talk about the book.

Then he hurriedly walked towards the library, Eric could not help but smile when seeing your figure which appeared in the doorway of the library, your nose stuck in the book.

Eric stood in the shadows, watching your figure walk right past him. He looks at you for a second before looking down at the book, smiling slightly as he sees you are reading one of his favorite books " The Tale of Two Cities". Dauntless people did not read, especially not good novels but back in Erudite, he was aware this book was popular.

Emerging slowly out of the shadows, Eric firmly gripped your waist from behind, gently kissing your cheek. Before he knew a book came crashing down on his cheek, hard. As you swung around getting ready to punch doing the exact thing Eric had trained you to do.

"Eric Coulter, you dummy", you shouted at him before letting out a giggle as you noticed his faint red color cheek.

Meeting your eyes, Eric let out a laugh while rubbing his cheek. "I have been looking everywhere for you Cara Mia, I didn't think you were here after you completely emptied to library yesterday.

"well I was looking for this book, so I came back", You told him kissing red cheek. When you married Eric it was like a dream, already been a year. Even though it was an arranged marriage it was purely all love.

His lips gently brushed against yours, memorizing the feeling of your lips against his before he let go," You're my wife, my everything. My world, I don't know what I'd do without you. Let me show how much I appreciate you, Cara Mia".

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What's your fashion sense and style like? How do you do your hair? How do you like to dress?

I'm really fond of classic styles, often with features like high collars, smooth textures, sharp structured forms, flouncy sleeves, tight shirt cuffs, and ribbing, sometimes. I own multiple pairs of dark, short and tall boots, most of them black. Also, I prefer earrings and rings over necklaces or bracelets. I like "static" jewelry over what I call "motion" jewelry, which dangles and clinks noisily—it doesn't stay put, and thus, can distract me.

I'm drawn toward the dark academia aesthetic, but I don't like beige or any browns in most cases, so I tend to wear colder black, white, greys, and blues, and some other colors. I'm not the most well-versed in fashion, but I've done a little research and apparently, I love "jewel tones."

And because I feel like I have to specify at this point: no, those decisions were (mostly) not because of Rafal. There is another, equally silly or improbable reason.

Blue was already my favorite color at some point, but that sort of cemented when, probably, in the seventh grade or so, I read the Divergent series. I will fully admit that I am a coward, so I related more to the Erudite, partly-corrupt academics that wore blue, than the Dauntless, daredevils in black, very similar archetype as the Nevers in SGE, but even more rollicking and hedonistic. There's even a trope that could be dangerous, if it were misinterpreted by audiences and carried over into their real life belief systems.

The main bone I have to pick with that series, even if I love(d) it, is why do the "smart ones" always have to be the villains? I'm thankful for byronic heroes and the modern anti-hero—thank you commercial fiction! It's given people who identify with archetypes like those a more variegated landscape of morally-grey characters to relate to. Regardless, I did a search and the answer to the villainy question is American anti-intellectualism. Which, to save us time, no comment... for now.

Back to the point—I looked up the "blue enhances intellectual performance" message in the trilogy and apparently, it was founded on real-world studies around test performance! And it turned out that red has the opposite effect on the mind. It is not calming, can raise your heart rate, and could make you more avoidant of easy questions while taking a test, and that's why I have very little red in my wardrobe. And I'm not particularly superstitious, and have largely grown out of it, but I did have a phase during which I refused to wear red if I had a test at school.

During everyday life, I dress much more casually, in regular, often solid-colored shirts, sweaters, or jackets with high collars. I tend to like leggings and slacks more than jeans. Though, I got a black trench coat because detective fashion inspired me, and someday, I want to get a Shakespearean era top, like an actual doublet or jerkin, and dress up on Halloween or World Poetry Day, if I ever get the appropriate opportunity.

My current favorite shirt is probably this solid, brocade/damask-patterned, long-sleeved shirt in deep royal and midnight blues, and I've yet to find others like it. It was a gift from my music teacher because a friend gave it to her, and I guess she didn't like it that much, and decided to give it to me because I once complimented it. Very nice of her.

I don't usually have the occasion to dress up. Yet, in my opinion, the coolest shirt I've bought to date is a black, not-quite-a-poet's-shirt shirt with translucent sleeves. The sleeves are frilled and drape a little down at the cuffs. So far, I've only gotten the chance to wear it once, when I went on a humanities field trip to the opera. That made me feel so cool.

Furthermore, while I like crisp, elegant, muted, sleek, angular things usually, the inverse is also true: I don't like anything that screams "modernity," bulbous or platform shoes, or baggy silhouettes, at least, not on myself. I'm not a fan of sweatshirts, probably because of the modernity and because I don't like drawstrings or pullovers in general. So, most of my sweaters have zippers, buttons, or other closures—like, how inefficient (or really just bothersome, to me, as I can find a reason to complain about anything being inconvenient or not ideal) is it to have to pull off an article of clothing and have it end up inside-out?

I've wanted to learn to do my own makeup, but I haven't had the time lately, and generally speaking, I believe I'd have time for more deliberate fashion aside from just having ideas, only if I gave up something else, and that's not happening. Or, if I were able to plug into the wall and charge, instead of going through the motions of sleeping or eating—alas, the human species lacks that ability. It would be less work and thought, not having to eat but being able to choose when to. Though, I usually almost never sense hunger or dehydration, so that already "helps."

Oh right, since we're still on the topic of fashion, that reminds me: I never mentioned that the Rafal-has-duplicate-pairs-of socks-for-efficiency headcanon I wrote the other day was inspired by how I shop, haha.

What's left to answer? Well, my hair is one of the "problems" I have. I have long hair because I don't really like short haircuts, and it's straight and insanely oily. I should wash it possibly everyday or every other day, but literally, I don't have the time or the will to do so, and mostly tie it into a ponytail. Very infrequently, I curl it, but I don't have time for that either.

This was an entertaining one. Thanks for the ask.