#candor divergent

[ghostedgrim]

Too Blunt?

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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.

[smfolklore]

Ignorance

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Author's Note : Okay she's here! This is 2.5K, I hope you enjoy it! Please leave me your thoughts, if you'd be so kind. I'm so happy that you all liked the first story I wrote. It motivated me to write this!

Synopsis : Y/N goes to Uriah's dormitory and gets incredibly tipsy (she's obliterated). Her instructor discovers this and is snarky with her because he's jealous.

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Present Time

My head is fucking pounding. I can hear only the persistent throbbing echoing throughout my brain. But it's what I deserve.

Uriah invited me to a “small” gathering happening among him and his two fellow Dauntless-Born companions. What I didn’t expect was the mass amount of alcohol that we were going to consume that night.

But I didn’t exactly say no. 

I will never deny an opportunity to have fun. When I lived with the Abnegation, there was zero tolerance for fun. It’s the one regulation I will never miss. There were aspects that I loved, like the simplicity and generosity of the people, but the negative aspect of this faction is that they were far too rigid.

In that, Dauntless is the complete opposite. And it’s the reason I’ve fallen in love with how at ease life is here. There are zero regulations (which is.. concerning), but to me that only indicates freedom.

Which is why last night, I drank. I consumed every shot that was handed to me, which if I remember correctly was eight. I’d never drank an ounce of alcohol before yesterday, which should have steered me into complacency but it didn’t.

–––

Uriah’s Dormitory - The Day Before

My face is slightly red as I feel the warmth of the liquor pulsing through me, and I’m trying desperately to contain the giggle slipping by.

We’re in Uriah’s dormitory. There’s six of us: Myself, Uriah, Lynn, Christina, Marlene, and Will. Christina and Will are desperately attempting to sing a chosen song, a microphone in each hand and while everyone is laughing and enjoying the euphoric sensation rolling through them, I feel the entire weight of my figure get heavy.

Uriah laughs at my expression, “Are you okay!”

And before I can even respond, I’m shaking my head with an erupting laugh, “No! No! I can’t stop laughing”.

I feel Uriah plop beside me, and I let my back hit the mattress as I see him lay across it. We’re a chaotic mess of laughing and bloodshot eyes. I blink at him slowly and see the lazy grin on his face.

“I am so fucking drunk right now”.

His grin stretches, “I feel complete. I’ve managed to intoxicate a girl from Abnegation. I never thought I would see the day”.

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief and let out a laugh as I say, “This is the first and the last time. I swear it”.

I don’t, actually.

I’m having far too much fun. Christina and Will are doing Karaoke, Lynn and Marlene are holding onto each-other for balance as they laugh so hard that they’re wheezing, and Uriah and I are laying across his mattress trying to gather our bearing’s. 

I can do this for the rest of my life. This faction is so liberating in spite of its faults.

Before I’m able to register it, Uriah is gripping onto my two wrists and using them as leverage to pull me upright. I’m still a pile of limbs, my body incoherent almost, but I grin as I see him pulling me to my feet.

Once I’m standing I hear a quick, “Our turn!” and my eyes widen dramatically. I can’t sing.

“No, Uriah! I can’t!”

But he’s smiling and I relent as he directs us to the stand that’s hosting the microphones. I pick one up, and as soon as I recognize the song that’s playing I turn to Uriah excitedly and exclaim, “How do you know this song!”

–––

Present Time

When I manage to open my eyes, I’m groggy. Beside me is Uriah, and beside him is Lynn as well as Marlene. We all fell asleep at his dormitory. I use the knuckle of my finger to get completely free of the drowsiness that is looming over me.

I groan as I force myself to sit up. I push myself toward the opposite side of the mattress, softly tying my laces and straightening my clothing. I laugh a little when I see Christina and Will on the couch beside the microphone post. Regardless of how close they’ve managed to become, they swear that they aren’t romantic. Yeah right.

I’ve become accustomed to waking up at 4 in the morning given my training session with Four. In spite of the fact that the first stage is complete, he’s prolonged our training. I didn’t ask him, he simply did. I’d expected him to stop the session, but he never opened the topic, and I certainly wasn’t going to propose it.

I enjoyed our time together.

In the last six week’s, Four and I have built upon our relationship. Our dynamic is.. fairly complicated. There are moments where I feel the tension dissipate and it often indicates the beginning of a friendship, but then he can quickly revert to the distant instructor I see so often.

I can admit that it hurts. I don’t know where I stand when I’m with him and it’s by far the most confusing relationship I’ve ever had. He’s gentle and patient one moment, and the next he’s curt and stern.

This pattern of inconsistency is only intensifying my doubt. I have no clue as to whether or not he thinks I’m attractive. Or if he even likes me. And it’s only served to irritate me. When I see him, I remain indifferent. 

It’s for the absolute best is what I tell myself. He’s clearly not interested in me. He had six entire week’s to give me even an inkling that he likes me, and he hasn’t. I can’t help the disappointment that I feel, I’d thought given the tension within our first session that there was more, but I can’t force him to find me appealing, can I?

I make my way into Uriah’s restroom, searching through the cabinet until I find what I was in need of. A new toothbrush. There’s no way I’m going to train with my insanely hot instructor without brushing my teeth. It’s like asking him to stop training me, when in reality I want to improve. I want to succeed here.

I wash my face, and even manage to brush my hair with a new comb I found stashed beside his toothbrush. I slip out of his dormitory as quietly as I can manage, trying to let them rest. I can’t have them discovering where I go so early in the morning. It wasn’t explicitly said that my training with Four is going against a protocol, but I don’t want to involve him if it is. So I maintain this secret for myself.

It’s 4:47 when I stroll into the training center, and I thank myself internally when I see that I’m alone. He isn’t here yet. I go toward the fountain, and sip on the fresh water pouring through as I wait for him to arrive.

I walk onto the platform, and begin to stretch softly, knowing that I’ll love the open range of motion it’ll give me when I’m fighting against Four. He doesn’t train me easily, not like he started throughout our first session. I’ve landed on my spine so many times, albeit softly. He isn’t unnecessarily rough, but he is rough enough to get his lesson through. 

I have my arm in front of me as I do a stretch when I hear the unmistakable latch of the front door. I peer over my shoulder and see the set of his face; cold.

He isn’t happy.

I carefully watch as he steps onto the platform and before I can register it I’m blurting out, “Nice night?”, with the intention of lightening the atmosphere.

His expression doesn’t change, and he doesn’t even meet my eye when he curtly says, “For some”.

This has my eyes widening slightly, as I’m a bit stunned. His body language is telling me that, unfortunately, he was not as fortunate. He’s tense, and his fists are clenched so tightly that the veins on his forearms are prominent. I put my arm down from my stretch and tilt my head, as I mutter to myself, “Okay, then”.

My attention snaps to him when I hear him say in an almost dull tone, “You look exhausted”. I frown wondering why he would point that out, but regardless I respond reluctantly, “We went to Uriah’s dormitory last night”.

All I get in response is an indifferent, “We?”. He’s not even looking at me, which confuses me. He’s untying his laces in order to get into position. Why is he being so adamant on evading me?

I shift from one foot to the other, ease in my voice, “Yep. Uriah, Will, Christina, Marlene, and Lynn. We were.. just learning how to play a card game”. It’s silly to not be honest about this but I don’t know if telling your initiation instructor that you got obliterated the night before is appropriate.

He meets my eye. Finally, but he’s looking at me without amusement as he fires in response, “Guzzling alcohol must be synonymous with learning a card game”.

I’m astounded by how affected he is at learning that his initiates are drinking. It’s entirely normal, but it’s not like I’m going to advertise it too. I furrow my eyebrow at the bite in his tone and feel irritation bubbling within me.

“How do you know what we were doing?”, I respond indignantly.

I watch as his shoulders tense, and it would have been entirely unrecognizable if not for the fact that I’m constantly observing him. I can’t help it, I want to understand him. How he thinks, what he’s feeling, and it goes beyond attraction. There’s a magnetic pull that I feel when I’m with him. 

He’s seamless in his response, “It isn’t exactly difficult to figure out. You're pale and dehydrated”.

I tilt my head and slightly narrow my vision, “There’s no way for you to know that I’m dehydrated, Four”. I’ve caught him; he’s a liar. I stare at him intently as I analyze his carefully crafted expression. I think about last night, attempting to recall a memory that could help me decipher how he’s in the loop of what I did in Uriah’s dormitory. 

And I do. 

It was Zeke. He came to Uriah’s dormitory to tell him about a family dinner.. and in return he helped us all consume as much water as possible. And he forced us all to swallow an Acetaminophen Tablet to prevent the headache that all of us would surely have the following morning.

He must’ve told Four when he left. I don’t know how, or when, but it’s the only possibility that I can think of. Zeke and Four have a friendship and because of that Four is going to hear about Uriah’s antics. Zeke likely mentioned to Four that his entire group of initiates is going to be fucking hungover for the session today.

He isn’t entirely wrong.

Four doesn’t react, simply getting into position and motioning for me to replicate it. But I don’t. I glance at the clock and read the time as 4:54, muttering, “It’s not 5 o'clock yet. We have time”. 

–––

Four’s Point of View

I narrow my gaze at her and try to prevent my body language from giving away just how much irritation is coursing through me.

I’ve felt this gnawing sense of discomfort fill me since the moment Zeke entered my apartment last night, divulging how Uriah and three of my initiates are getting “hammered” in his dormitory.

It isn’t the alcohol that has me tensing my shoulders, or narrowing my gaze at her, it's the disturbing thought that she was with him. I’ve noticed how close they’ve become.. they eat together, I see them in the pit together, and apparently Zeke placed her to sleep beside Uriah last night as well. Granted there were two extra people on the mattress with them.

In spite of the fact that logically, I’m aware nothing could have occurred, there’s a persistent ache of discomfort in my chest that I can’t identify properly. This can’t be jealousy. I can’t like her.

And yet, when I flick my gaze to her, and locate the determination in her eyes to find out what I’m hiding, I find my throat going dry in appeal. 

“I didn’t agree to having a conversation with you, I agreed to train you so that you can improve your fighting” I respond curtly.

There’s a flicker of hurt that catches on her expression and it immediately has me wanting to retract my response. But I don’t, because I can’t. If I tell her the truth, about what I know, I’ll have to explain why I’ve reacted the way that I have. And that will open a conversation that can’t be opened until she isn’t my initiate. Until I can tell her how I feel without putting her in a position where she might feel obligated to return my affection.

It isn’t fair to her. And if I’m going to pursue this.. It has to be done correctly.

So I persist, “Position yourself”.

But she doesn’t. She’s hesitating, and it frustrates me. She grits out in irritation, “Tell me how you know what we were doing”.

I’m almost stunned by the way she’s spoken to me. Y/N has always maintained that line of respect even through the telling of a joke, or when we’re in a session. But now she’s wary, and she’s considering the truth as a possibility; that I like her. 

The thought that Y/N might discover my affection for her has reverted me to the default personality that I’ve adopted since the moment that I chose this faction; cold. I cannot let her figure it out before she’s designated an official member.

I pause, tilting my head in an almost sadistic way as I stalk toward her as intimidatingly as I can. My demeanor is insulting, and I’m aware that the next thing I say may ruin the small connection that we’ve developed. But what choice do I have?

“I advise that you learn how to address your superior. I only agreed to this to help you learn how to fight. If you aren’t going to comply, then get out”, his tone is menacingly calm, but there is an undercurrent of condescension. He’s speaking to her in a manner that would resemble a conversation he’s having with an imbecile.

And it’s enough to hurt her feelings. He sees the flicker of emotion on her face before she decidedly takes a step away from him. 

Her expression is masked, a glimpse of nothing. “Fine”, she mutters, voice indifferent. Her expression is blank when she glances away from him. And it’s blank as she laces her shoes. And when I hear the latch of the steel entryway, I groan as I come to terms with the fact that I’ve only pushed her further into the arm’s of Uriah, and directly away from me. She’s going to hate me. I watched the hurt consume her, and then I watched her mask it with the ease only a person from Abnegation can adopt. I wonder if she’ll come back tomorrow.

[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

[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

[effystnoem]

I never thought I’d be writing Divergent fan fiction in 2024 but I’m bored and recently rewatched the movies so! Also has anyone noticed there’s a real lack of peter fanfic? Am I the only one who loves an extreme enemies to lovers?

Anyway! If y’all like enemies to lovers, slow burn, and drama for no reason at all then check it out <3

[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 🤔🤔"

[ottersandoceans]

Shadows And Steel: An Eric Coulter Story

Eric slowly falls for Abigail Hayes a dauntless leader he befriends

————————————————————

Chapter 1: The Bonds Of Leadership

Eric Coulter stood on the ledge of the Dauntless compound, his eyes scanning the city that stretched out beneath him. The wind whipped his blond hair, but his gaze was as steady and unyielding as steel. This was his domain, a world where strength and fearlessness ruled. Yet, there was one person who could penetrate that icy exterior, one who could see the softness he kept hidden beneath his cold, ruthless exterior. And that person

was Abigail Hayes.

"Abby," Eric muttered to himself, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was a name he never used in public, a secret between them, a rare sign of affection in a world where weakness was preyed upon. Only she could bring out this side of him, and only she could call him out when his arrogance took control.

"Eric," a voice called from behind him, soft yet commanding.

Eric turned, the smile gone, replaced by his usual hard expression. Abigail, or Abby as he alone called her, approached with her usual confident stride. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her sharp green eyes locked onto his. There was a fierce determination in her gaze that matched his own, and it was why they worked so well together. They were equals, something that Eric seldom found in anyone.

"What's the plan for the initiates?" Abby asked, coming to stand beside him. The ledge didn't intimidate her—nothing in this place did. She had grown up in Dauntless, just like him, and had earned her place as a leader through blood, sweat, and sheer force of will.

"Peter's group is next in line," Eric replied, his voice betraying none of the fondness he felt for her. "He's been causing trouble, as usual."

"Of course he has," Abby sighed, shaking her head. Her younger brother, Peter, had always been trouble. Arrogant, aggressive, with a need to prove himself that often led him into dangerous situations. She loved him, but she knew better than to let that cloud her judgment. In Dauntless, sentimentality could get you killed.

"Think he'll survive?" Eric asked, his tone light, but his eyes serious.

"He's a Hayes," Abby replied, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "He'll survive. He's stubborn enough."

Eric nodded. They both knew that stubbornness wasn't always enough in this world, but Peter had shown a level of cunning that set him apart from many of the other initiates. Still, he had a long way to go if he wanted to rise through the ranks, and neither Eric nor Abby would make it easy for him.

"Good," Eric said finally, his tone signaling the end of their discussion. "Let's see if he's smart enough to keep his head down during the simulations."

"Or if he'll do something stupid, like always," Abby added, though there was a note of concern in her voice.

Eric caught it and placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a rare gesture, one of the few times he allowed himself to show any softness in public. Abby looked up at him, and for a moment, the weight of their responsibilities seemed to lift.

"He'll be fine, Abby," Eric said, his voice low and reassuring. "And if he's not, he'll learn."

Abby nodded, taking comfort in Eric's words, though she knew better than to let it show too much. They had an image to maintain, after all. Two of the most feared leaders in Dauntless couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than unbreakable.

[unicornlandsposts]

[jupitersrising]

The Foxes Divergent Factions + explanations

Long post under the cut

Review of Divergent Factions:

Abnegation: the selfless

Amity: the peaceful

Candor: the honest

Dauntless: the brave

Erudite: the intellectual

Neil Josten: He was born in Dauntless, but Mary ran away to Abnegation because nobody actually pays attention to them. Depending on where Neil is in his journey, he'd either choose dauntless (if his dad wasn't there) or amity.

Andrew Minyard: He grew up in Candor and followed Aaron to Erudite. But if Aaron weren't a factor he'd probably choose Dauntless because that faction seems to have the most freedom of them all.

Aaron Minyard: Grew up in Abnegation (which both helps push Tilda's abusive behavior and develops his volatile habits when he has the ability to choose what he wants to do. I could make an entire post just about this) and chose Erudite for obvious reasons.

Kevin Day: Grew up in Dauntless (you can't tell me that the Moriyama's would be anywhere else) and ran away to Erudite.

Nicky Hemmick: He grew up in Candor (which helped fuel self-hatred since yk...his parents are horrible), but his parents worked closely with volunteers in Abnegation so he was fairly close to Aaron. But, he chose Amity because he thought it might be the one place—if any place like that existed—that would accept him.

Dan Wilds: I'm gonna be honest...I have no idea where Dan grew up. I feel like it could be Dauntless, but at the same time it just doesn't work. Amity seems too...nice of a place for her origins. Idk. At the same time I could see her choosing Abnegation because she wants to help people (much like her adoptive father figure David Wymack) or I could see her going to Erudite learn/argue to help other people.

Matt Boyd: He grew up in Erudite (since his Dad is a doctor or someone of high society) but his Mom is from Dauntless making him a child that shouldn't exist (people of two different factions aren't supposed to be in relationships). When he got to choose he went to Abnegation.

Renee Walker: This one is pretty obvious...she grew up in Dauntless and chose (or was adopted or was forced to) Amity.

Allison Reynolds: She grew up in Erudite and left to Candor to reveal all her parents' secrets without facing retribution.

Seth Gordon: Grew up in Dauntless (could also see him growing up in Candor, but I feel like he's the type who would stay with what he knew) and stayed in Dauntless.

[ghostedgrim]

HEY! QUICK ROLL CALL!!!

To the Divergent Fandom! We've lost alot of people, or we're all just crazy quiet. It seems this beloved Fandom has died. BUT IM STILL HERE ALIVE AND KICKING MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

To those in this Fandom, reply and reblog so I can know y'all fuckers are still alive!

If ya wanna leave only a like, then please just reply with "here." I'm also willing to take any request you wanna send that are related to Divergent (smut, romantic, rejection, friendships, enemies, OCs, platonic, ships, hurt, comfort, crack ship, crack headcannons, random stuff, crack fic ideas) give them to me! IMMA ATTEMPT CPR, I MAY HAVE FAILED MY CPR TEST IM HIGH SCHOOL BUT IMMA STILL ATTEMPT CPR TO REVIVE THIS FANDOM!!!! 🦅

Feel free to add your favorite faction in the comments

[smfolklore]

Anticipation

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Author's Note : Hi! This is my first piece that I'll be uploading. I would love your thoughts on this if you'd be so kind. I hope you all enjoy it and I'm so excited to write more Tobias content. 2.3K Word's 😈

Synopsis : Y/N reluctantly ask's the Dauntless instructor she was assigned, and that she (unfortunately) finds attractive to help her train. There's tension. Please let me know what else you'd like to see.

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She can’t help how her thoughts drift toward the moment his fingers brushed her abdomen. How goosebumps exploded across her skin, and how they easily engulfed her entire midsection.

His voice was low, and deep, right against her ear as he positioned her in a way that would allow her to actually hurt her opponents.

That was yesterday and she can't stop the incessant place that her mind runs to as soon as it's given a moment to think. The attraction she felt for him was so insanely inappropriate. And yet.. the possibility of him reciprocating lulled her into a false sense of security.

That it’s okay.

It won’t end as awfully as she’s imagined.

Y/N’s attention is redirected when she sees the initiates begin to disperse, and her instructor walk toward the knives that they had launched only minutes before she began to fantasize about a 2 minute interaction she had with a boy. 

He must’ve dismissed the session.

Christina and Will turn to look at Y/N in anticipation of what they’ll be doing with the allotted time that they were given.

She half listens as Will discusses going to the parlor to get his first tattoo, but eventually says with a small smile, “Actually, I-uh I’m going to talk to Four. You two can go and I’ll catch up?”.

Christina tilts her head, slightly suspicious, but Y/N gives away absolutely nothing, that perfected smile of innocence she learned in Abnegation carefully placed on her face.

Four’s back is facing her, and once Will and Christina have left, Y/N reluctantly travels from her spot in the training center toward the steel table that holds an abnormally large amount of knives in any other situation. But this is Dauntless, and weapons are normal.

Her heart is pounding and before she can utter a single word he’s anticipated her arrival and muttered, “What is it?”. It isn’t particularly unkind, or malicious in any way. It’s him, and the way that he addresses all of his initiates.

But it has her pausing. Was she insane? Should she just leave?

In spite of the fact that she’s attracted to him, she really could learn from him. And god knows she needs all of the practice that she can get. 

Her arms rest by her side, but the fingers of her right hand are fidgeting as she nervously says, “I don’t know if this is against the rules, but I was wondering if you would help me improve my fighting”.

He still isn’t facing her. He’s diligently organizing the weapons by type. Y/N’s hoping to God he doesn’t refuse her. The mortification would be enough to simply volunteer to become factionless. 

She fills the silence, “If you can’t, that’s okay too! I understand you're busy–and you know what? Just–it’s okay! Forget about it..” She begins to scramble for an appropriate exit, when his voice suddenly rings out.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow at 5. We’ll practice in the morning before your normal sessions and then a second time when dinner is no longer being served”.

Y/N can’t help the smile that fills her face but she almost instinctively kills it. She’s giddy on the inside though. He’s really going to help her. She might actually be able to stay in this faction. 

And spending time with her instructor isn’t exactly a hardship.

She gives a “Thank you” in response and begins to leave the training center, her footsteps light and the only trace of her exit being the sound of the entrance clicking shut.

–––

I stifle the groan I want to let out as my alarm blares beneath my pillow. I shoved it underneath the two pillows that I’d managed to acquire throughout my initiation to try and muffle the noise. Thankfully it worked and the only noise, or rather the only feeling that is escaping is a relentless buzz.

I use two fingers to press against the mirroring sides of the machine simultaneously in order to turn it off. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d awoken the entire dormitory.

I drag myself out of my mattress and begin to clothe myself, my matching black fitted long-sleeve sweater and black workout pants being an absolute pain to put on. I internally curse myself as I have to haul this on. Who told me it was going to be practical to buy this?

Once I’ve deemed myself presentable and not like I’ve just awoken from the pits of hell, I begin my trek to the training center, the clock on the wall reading 4:52 in the morning. As I enter I’m startled when my eyes land on Four. 

But then I’m not. Of course he’s already here. I almost want to roll my eyes.

It’s ridiculous that everything about him is so.. neat. He’s poised, well-balanced, and punctual. He’s never lost his temper. I’ve never once seen this man so much as stumble. And, annoyingly, has never run late for a session. 

Regardless I approach him with a small, “Hi” as I step onto the platform carefully, now standing in front of him.

His intense eyes reach mine and despite what I expected, which was a change of subject, he says in response, “Hi. You’re a bit early”.

I’m a little bit confused given that it’s now 4:56, which means I’m only about 4 minutes ‘early’. But I laugh and quickly take the opportunity to further our conversation. “I didn’t want to be late. You’re doing me a huge favor”.

“Did you think I was going to leave if you weren’t here on time?” His voice is.. amused. His tone is full of dry sarcasm and it has my eyebrow’s shoot up in surprise. He’s actually engaging in genuine conversation; albeit I haven’t managed to pull a smile out of him. Still, it’s far more progress than I thought I was going to get.

I grin, my eyes bright at the possibility that we might become familiar, “Well, I don’t know if I’d exactly put it past you”.

I wonder if I’m hallucinating when I see a flicker of excitement roll through his eyes. But I quickly deny it to myself. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I can’t ruin this opportunity; I need to pass this stage.

There’s a smile on his lips, but it's tilted down, almost as if to prove my accusation. But I get the sense that he’s lying; he wouldn’t have left me here alone if I was late. He’s amused, possibly impressed.

But the smile is quickly wiped off my face when his smile slips off his expression and he becomes Four again. I don’t know who I was talking to just seconds before.. but I like that version of him. Easy going. 

As he talks, he positions me.

He begins a slow drawl of words, “I’ve noticed for you in particular, because of your height and weight, you’d do well in offense. You’re light, and can escape the grip of your opponent rather easily if you learn how”.

I straighten my posture and shiver when he reaches for my two wrists, the words still slipping past his lips, “You need to practice maintaining your space. Don’t let your limbs flail. It’ll stop an opponent from being able to keep a grip on you, understand?”

It’s hard to focus with the way his body is so close to mine. He’s at a respectable distance, but still closer than we’ve encountered before. My eyes flit between his as we make eye contact. I nod slowly to demonstrate my understanding. When his grip loosens he remarks, “Okay. I’m going to charge at you. I’m not going to hit you, but I want you to try and maneuver yourself in a way that will allow you to hit me, and not kill yourself in the process”.

I almost want to laugh at the way he’s phrased that, but I bite my tongue and instead focus on mentally preparing for this. How is that even a possibility? Is there a way for me to hit him while still being out of his reach?

We stand in position, my back straight and my limbs as close to me as possible. My arms are at my side and I’m not in a wide stance in order to evade being slammed onto the platform if he manages to catch a foot.

His stance is much more intimidating. It’s perfected. He could kill me if he wanted too.

I wait for him to approach me, and it’s difficult to resist the temptation to simply bolt out of the way. But I think I’ve come up with a solid plan. I can move at the last second, which will allow me to strike him because his momentum from charging at me will be far too high. 

In this case, his weight is a disadvantage. And for once, mine is at an advantage. Or maybe it’s always at an advantage. I just needed his perspective.

It’s when I’m slightly distracted that he charges at me. I never pegged him for a cheater.

Regardless of my thoughtlessness, I manage to step to the side, only I’m a split second too late. He grips my wrist, which I failed to maintain close to myself in my haste to step away from him. 

He uses his hold on my wrist to pull me close to him, and given how quickly the entire situation is happening, I collide with him, my chest pressed to his. And my palm instinctively presses to his chest in order to maintain a distance, but it only inadvertently has me closer to him. I’m panting a bit as I try to process everything that just happened.

He caught me off guard!

I lift my eyes to his and he’s speaking before I can slip a word in, “You need to focus. Remember to have your limbs as close to you as possible” I nod in agreement and he adds, “That was a very clever strategy. Quick thinking”.

I’m still breathing a bit heavily, as is he, though I don’t know if it’s from the exertion of charging at me.. or because of how closely intertwined we are.

“Thank you”, I mutter with a small smile as I slowly pull my hand away from his chest and he releases my wrist.

He doesn’t reveal a single thought about what just occurred. His breathing is the only possible indication of how he might feel. But as he motions for me to get into my original position again he follows with, “When you’re within an appropriately close distance to your opponent, remember that you have small limbs. Shorter arms, shorter legs. You can use this to help you”.

I don’t quite understand his logic. He recognizes this and begins in my direction. When he starts to get as close as we just were, my eyes widen in surprise but he only says, “Try to knee me”.

I hesitate but I instantly lift my knee to do as he says, I don’t do it hard, only to simulate the motion he’s trying to show me and grin in excitement when I understand what he’s insinuating. At this distance, I can hit him, and it will hurt. But if he attempts to do as I did, it wouldn’t work. His limbs are far too long, and with the small distance between him and I, he can’t even lift his knee.

When I lift my head to meet his eyes, my breath hitches as I realize his head is tilted down to look at me. Which means.. We’re at an incredibly inappropriate distance. I could kiss him if I lifted myself up onto my toes. 

My eyes find his lips briefly, before I snap them back toward his eyes, trying to not trace every detail I can in order to not give myself away. But I’m not the only one who’s feeling affected by this. The words he was about to utter don’t come as they get lodged in his throat.

He’s so close to me, and we’re simply staring at one another as the tension rolls through us.. through the entire training center. Waiting to see who will break it first. I desperately want to stay in this moment, despite how horrible it is to feel attraction for him. He’s my instructor.. there’s no universe where he reciprocates. 

But the way his breathing has increased and his eyes are flitting to my lips says otherwise.

Did I imagine that?

He clears his throat and breaks our eye contact. Turning his attention to my legs, and saying, “Do you understand what I was trying to say?”

I hesitate, still briefly stunned by the moment just there, but I hoarsely respond, “Yes, thank you”.

He goes to his original mark, in position again. I regain control of myself and heavily exhale as I concentrate.

This time, when he charges at me I move in the exact direction I did the first time, knowing that he will have expected me to go the opposite way. 

Reverse psychology. If he can cheat, so can I.

I grin when I see the delayed movement of him coming to the realization that I actually did as he said and managed to evade his grip. And I take this opportunity to strike him, swiping his feet out so that his back slams against the platform.

I almost feel pitiful, but when I see the grin on his face, my pity evaporates. He’s proud of me. He quickly resumes his position and says, “Great. Now try and do it again”.

Though this time his eyes are narrowed, and I frown nervously, contrary to the bubbling pit of excitement running through me as well, when I realize he was being kind. And now he’s going to actually train me.

–––

That's it! I love this so please let me know if you liked it and if you'd like to see more! And to @remussbitch who asked to be tagged, here it is. I hope you enjoy.

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[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".

[mrscoulter5ever]

Truth Requires Bravery Ch 13

Eric stormed down the stone hallways of the prison and slammed his fist hard against the wall, his jaw clenched and his bright blue eyes alight with frustration. What more could he do? It seemed no matter how hard he tried or no matter what he did, Alissa would never come to his side. Eric, though loathe to admit it, wanted to cry, but he was far too macho for that, so he settled for beating his fist into a bloody pulp instead, chips of the stone wall burrowed into the bleeding cracks on his fingers.

Eric stopped, panting heavily as sweat rolled down his face. Why, Alissa, echoed the whispers of a broken man. Eric sunk down to the stone floor and leaned up against the wall catching his breath. As he sat there, he thought. Alissa's behavior was so strange. It seemed so incongruous for a Candor, who were normally very blunt and straightforward. But Alissa was often rather quiet. Though she had her sassy moments, she often seemed to be hiding something. Her erratic behavior sort of reminded him of - no. No. There was no way she was anything like fucking Four. No. No no no no no know. Know. He had to know. Sure, she had already been on trial for Divergence, but there was still a part of Eric that held out hope that that was wrong - that his dear Alissa was as normal as they come. But he had to know.

His crazed electric blue eyes led him down the stone pathway back to her cell as his feet marched along in tandem.

"Alissa!" he barked.

Alissa's head shot up with her eyebrows furrowed. "What? Eric? I thought you said you'd be back in two days?!"

"Listen, Alissa, I need to know something," Eric hissed, his voice thick with urgency.

"What, what is it?" Alissa replied, panicked and confused.

"What did you get on your test?"

"What - Eric you know we're not supposed to talk about that!"

"Just. tell. me. Alissa, I need to know," Eric's eyes softened with desperation, "please. What did you get on your test?"

Alissa sighed and broke eye contact. "Dauntless," she whispered.

Eric leaned back, startled. No wonder he loved her so much. She was a Dauntless woman. "But then why wouldn't you let me take you back to Dauntless? That's where you belong!"

"No, Eric, Candor is my home."

"But - why choose Candor when you're fit for Dauntless?"

"Because I felt like living to a ripe old age," Alissa snarked drily.

Eric, despite his doubts, couldn't help but smirk slightly.

"Alissa, what else did you get?"

Back to the eyebrow scrunching. "What? Nothing! What makes you think I got anything else?"

Eric sighed. He was getting nowhere. He leaned his face against the cold metal bars of her cell. "At least just tell me what you did during your test - what choices you made."

"Eric, why?" Alissa pleaded.

"Please, Alissa," Eric hissed her name, "please, for me," he said, tenderly kissing her forehead.

"I-" Alissa's eyes watered. "Fine. Fine," she sighed, "I heard a voice telling me to choose the knife or the meat." Eric nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I said 'nice try,' and went to grab both but it shocked me. Once again, the voice said 'choose'. I said 'why? why should I?' and the voice just didn't answer, which was infuriating. Then the bowls disappeared and I was left with nothing. Next thing I knew there was this big scary dog snarling at me. No one really knows this but I have a huge fear of dogs, so as soon as I saw that beast I took off and ran. I vaguely heard the sounds of a little girl's screams but I just kept running."

Eric furrowed his brow. So far this was sounding much more like an Erudite test result. He was confused as to how she could have possibly gotten Dauntless.

"So then, next thing I knew, I was on a bus next to a guy reading the newspaper - I mean, who does that anymore? Everyone gets their news through the TV these days."

Eric raised an eyebrow. He certainly didn't recall that part from his own test.

"The man was asking me if I knew some guy whose photo he was pointing to in the paper. The guy's photo looked vaguely familiar but I didn't really know who he was, so that's what I told him. The man on the bus starting getting really aggressive, he started shaking me and yelling at me 'Please, please, you've gotta help me, who is he?' I told him, 'I already told you, I don't know, get off of me!' but he wouldn't - he just kept shaking me and shaking me and I got fed up so I broke out of his grip and punched him. Next thing I knew everything went black and I was back in the testing room."

Eric inhaled deeply. Shit. She was definitely Divergent. Despite his plans to obtain power, however, he knew he'd make an exception for her. There was no way he could kill this beautiful woman. No, she was going to rule Chicago by his side. That Eric was sure of.

"Thank you for telling me, Alissa." Eric grabbed her hand.

Alissa nodded, still looking away from him. "I try not to think about my testing day too much. I just remember how nervous I was, and thinking of the boy they called with me who seemed so confident, so sure of his place in society. I was insecure of his security. I still remember that lanky blonde boy -" Alissa paused, eyes widening with realization. "Edwin," she breathed, looking up at Eric.

"You remember me," Eric's deep, rich voice whispered, his face breaking out into a million watt smile that made Alissa's heart skip a beat. "Don't you see, Alissa? We were destined to meet - destined to be together from day 1."

Alissa's shocked eyes looked up at his, her mind swimming with emotions wrought on by these new revelations. Eric's strong hands gently lifted her chin up to his as his lips pressed into her. He began gently, softly, romantically, but soon was kissing her like there was no tomorrow, his passion flowing forth.

Alissa's shocked eyes soon turned lustful as he brought up a key and entered her cell, locking the door behind him and stripping his shirt off, revealing his incredibly sculpted form. Eric gently took off her shirt as he pressed a series of kisses down her body, starting from her lips, then her jaw, behind her earlobe, down her neck, and inching down her torso. Alissa's hands scraped against his muscular abs, slowly pulling down the waistband of his pants. Eric grinned impiously, returning the favor.

Bathed by the dim light from the windows of her cell, Eric and Alissa made sweet love to one another, basking in the presence of two souls who, no matter how hard they tried or how many obstacles fate threw in their way, simply could not resist each other.

"Yes, Eric." Alissa breathed.

"Yes, what?" Eric replied in a playful tone, but also somewhat confused.

"My answer is yes. Yes I will marry you."

Eric's eyes watered as that million watt smile returned. He grabbed the ring from his pocket and slipped it onto her finger as the two lovers continued to demonstrate their pent up passion for one another on into the early hours of the morning light.

THE END

I hope you enjoyed this story and thank you very much dear readers for making it this far! This was my first ever fic, so please like and review; your support means a lot to me! <3

[fantasy-nerdddd]

I have read less than one page of Divergent, and I already have questions. Why would anyone in their right mind go to the abnegation faction? It's not like you are given one at random you can CHOOSE. And you choose to go to the impoverished area of idk Chicago or wherever this thing is set in? I already know how this will go even though the only thing I know is that there's a guy called 4. That's it. And I guess he is from a different faction, Bravery or what it's called most likely, and he falls in love with Trice but because he is not in Abnegation, in fact he has to be in an above average faction, they can't be together. And in the end they bring down the evil government that divides them so they can have better control over them and live happily ever after. I think Veronica Roth (?) wanted for Beatrice to live in poverty, because she wanted Beatrice to mirror Katniss from The Hunger Games, because these books were all the hype in the early 2010s, but it doesn't work that well because her family chose their way of life.

Edit 1: I am like 25% done, after Tris was beaten up by Peter, and I gotta say - will it be a love triangle, really? Yep, that's Hunger Games with less stakes over here. Hopefully she chooses Al tho. I like him.

Edit 2: Yep, a love triangle. I just read about Edward's and Myra's departure, and I have to ask, can I like Al or will I get heartbroken. He seems like such a genuine guy!!! I want him to stay please Al just kill a couple people.

Edit 3: I fucking hate everyone. And everything. Well apparently there is no love triangle. Or will Will step in to volunteer as a trisfucker? Anyways I don't know if you know... AL DESERVED BETTER AND YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. I am so so close at dnf because I am dealing with full on grief. Al was the only person I came close to liking until now. In some sense, I'm happy. He didn't live long enough to see himself become the villain ig. But please Al, come back to life.

Edit 4: I completely forgot to update lol but it doesn't matter cause there's no divergent fandom here. I feel like that trend song from mean girls (I think): "Veronica! Open the, open the door please! Veronica, open the door! Veronica, can we not fight anymore please? Can we not, fight anymore? Veronica, sure you're scared I've been there! I can set you free! Veronica, don't make me come in there! I'm gonna count to three..." Because I want to kill Roth just like she killed the only character I liked. Jesus christ. Out of spite, I won't read Insurgent and Allegiant anytime soon, if ever.

[atac-agent]

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

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

This is NOT my work...