So a while back I saw this headcannon that although Four was born Abnegation he had to have picked some Dauntless traits when he transferred there, even though he hated it there before Tris came along.
AND AN IDEA WAS BORN
Yes, and I shall write about it, not because I have nothing to do, but because I have nothing to do.
I wanted to give them a chance to be a normal couple before Divergent’s Armageddon at the end of the first book, so this takes place three-four months after Tris completes her final test and they were a normal couple for a while.
Headcanon credits to @fouriis and I hope this is the correct account?
*mini-drabble of app. 500 words*
OOO
There are some times when you know you’ve fucked up.
There’s always this inner feeling, but it takes a while sometimes to really get that gut feeling.
Like today, for example.
Tris and I stand here in my room, me staring at her hands as she waves them around because I have nothing else to do while Tris yells at me.
“—therefore you should have told me, because I am also a part of this faction—”
“You were injured, what the hell was I supposed to do—”
“I got better two days ago!” she screeches. “It was a cut on my shoulder! I’m fine!”
“You're clearly not fine, because I still see you wincing when you move it. And Tori said you were supposed to stay in bed for a week so that she could make sure it didn’t get infected.”
“I need to practice, we know that Eric and Max are up to something. Even Christina noticed that my knife throwing skills were a bit off lately, I need to practice, Tobias, why can't you see that—”
“They’re knives, baby, you need an incredible amount of precision in your back muscles to hit the target, and you're clearly not doing well on that front.”
“That’s not the damn point, Tobias, I could have just watched—did you just call me baby?”
I freeze. I try to open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
Stupid Dauntless.
I came first in my rankings during Initiation and I cannot respond to a simple question.
Tris is still staring at me with the same furious expression on her face, but some of it has been diluted with amusement.
“I—yes?” I try.
She cocks a brow, gives me a once-over and nods. “Keep calling me that,” she says, then walks out, not before sticking her head back into my room. “We’re still not done discussing this.”
I accidentally walk into a wall when she leaves.
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Collection of introductions of the love interest in a YA series. You can always tell based on how they’re introduced what kind of love interest they’re meant to be.
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[ katniss/peeta - hunger games ]
“Peeta Mellark.”
Peeta Mellark!
Oh, no, I think. Not him. Because I recognize this name, although I have never spoken directly to its owner. Peeta Mellark.
No, the odds are not in my favor today.
I watch him as he makes his way toward the stage. Medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, you can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his blue eyes show the alarm I’ve seen so often in prey. Yet he climbs steadily onto the stage and takes his place.
[…]
Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will…
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[ bella/edward - twilight ]
As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.
"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today — he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.
"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.
I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.
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[ harry/ginny - harry potter ]
“You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?”
“Who?”
“Harry Potter!”
Harry heard the little girl’s voice. “Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please. . . .”
“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo.”
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[ hermione/ron - harry potter ]
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.
“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.
“Er — all right.”
[…]
He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.
“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard — I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”
[…]
“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.
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[ tris/four - divergent ]
I have to stand on solid ground again. I see a few hands stretching out to me at the edge of the net, so I grab the first one I can reach and pull myself across. I roll off, and I would have fallen face-first onto a wood floor if he had not caught me.
“He” is the young man attached to the hand I grabbed. He has a spare upper lip and a full lower lip. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, and they are dark blue, a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color.
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[ percy/annabeth - percy jackson ]
“Annabeth?” Mr. Brunner called to the blonde girl.
She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. “This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don’t you go check on Percy’s bunk? We’ll be putting him in cabin eleven for now.”
Annabeth said, “Sure, Chiron.”
She was probably my age, maybe a couple of centimeters taller and a whole lot more athletic-looking. With her deep tan skin and her curly blonde hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling grey, like storm clouds; pretty but intimidating too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.
She glanced at the Minotaur horn in my hand, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a Minotaur! or Wow, you’re so awesome! or something like that.
Instead she said, “You drool when you sleep.”
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[ thomas/teresa - the maze runner ]
But he had caught a glimpse of her before being blocked off. She was thin, but not too small. Maybe five and a half feet tall, from what he could tell. She looked like she could be fifteen or sixteen years old, and her hair was tar black. But the thing that had really stood out to him was her skin: pale, white as pearls.
[…]
He approached Newt and Alby, who both knelt beside the girl. Thomas, not wanting to meet their stares, concentrated on the girl; despite her paleness, she was really pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful. Silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs. It made him sick to think that way about a dead girl, but he couldn’t look away. Won’t be that way for long, he thought with a queasy twist in his stomach. She’ll start rotting soon. He was surprised at having such a morbid thought.
“You know this girl, shank?” Alby asked, sounding ticked off.
Thomas was shocked by the question. “Know her? Of course I don’t know her. I don’t know anyone. Except for you guys.”
“That’s not …,” Alby began, then stopped with a frustrated sigh. “I meant does she look familiar at all? Any kind of feelin’ you’ve seen her before?”
“No. Nothing.” Thomas shifted, looked down at his feet, then back at the girl.
[…]
Thomas’s mind was spinning. He was sure he’d never seen her before—but then the slightest hint of doubt crept into his mind. “I swear she doesn’t look familiar at all,” he said anyway. He’d had enough accusations.
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[ clary/jace - the mortal instruments ]
It was Alec who spoke first. “What’s this?” he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there.
“It’s a girl,” Jace said, recovering his composure. “Surely you’ve seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one.” He took a step closer to Clary, squinting as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “A mundie girl,” he said, half to himself. “And she can see us.” “
“Of course I can see you,” Clary said. “I’m not blind, you know.”
“Oh, but you are,” said Jace, bending to pick up his knife. “You just don’t know it.” He straightened up. “You’d better get out of here, if you know what’s good for you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Clary said. “If I do, you’ll kill him.” She pointed at the boy with the blue hair.
“That’s true,” admitted Jace, twirling the knife between his fingers. “What do you care if I kill him or not?”
“Be-because—,” Clary spluttered. “You can’t just go around killing people.”
“You’re right,” said Jace. “You can’t go around killing people.” He pointed at the boy with blue hair, whose eyes were slitted. Clary wondered if he’d fainted. “That’s not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it’s a monster.”
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