endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-11-18 10:02 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2010-11-18 10:02 pm
Morning Wood
Title: Morning Wood
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Word count: 1117
Character(s): Tenten, Deidara, Uchiha Itachi; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Fugaku
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Randomly written fic inspired by the events and planned plots that took place at TheRisingSun. The headcanon wanted more. Who was I to deny it?
Dedicated to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nothinglanguage and soliloquiii
Years of martial arts classes and tournaments had given her a fairly stable foundation to develop a healthy and slim, if not lithe, body. The physical demands of becoming a vital component to the Uchiha regime only chiseled those features even further to near perfection. But for Tenten, these things never held any real conscious space in her mind. Her father had always been a strong and fit man, after all, and only through necessity. It took a physically powerful person to go through the constant motion of pounding at hardened metals under the blazing hot conditions of the furnace to remain one of the top specialists in the city for his field. Perhaps, even, in the entire country. And growing up, her mother had always been the main driving force behind her own healthy habits. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind, and vice versa, she used to say.
Tenten had lived by that principle to keep herself and those she protected alive.
So when others would find the means and courage to comment on the results of her labor, it was a struggle to find any real compliment in the words. At best, she could appreciate the recognition of her efforts and capabilities. But beauty was subjective and varied between person to person. And there were no guarantees that hers would last. That it wasn't already marred with the number of scars that littered the young woman's body. Then again, she supposed, such things didn't matter when they were being discussed while she was unconscious in sleep.
After years of working as the head of security at a prestigious and luxurious hotel, the young woman had developed into what others would consider a light sleeper. With enemies around every corner and the constant need to topple the Uchiha empire from its coveted pedestal, she had been expected to be ready to jump into action at any given moment to ensure that the clan would continue to survive. That Sasuke survived. That was the promise she had made to Fugaku and Itachi. And that was the promise Tenten had made to herself.
In leaving the only real family she had during a fit of emotional distress -- in favor of keeping her own sanity -- that level of devotion was no longer necessary. So when Deidara had decided that he would take steps to sketch her every morning while she slept, Tenten had been clueless. And would have continued to be so if Itachi hadn't managed to finally reserve a day off from working at the precinct.
"You sketch women's bodies everyday. Men too." - And there was a distinct snicker at the later part of the statement that had her wondering just what implications came with it -- "Why not wait until class and use them as models. Like you're supposed to be doing?"
"Because," the other responded. All the while, she could hear the faint scrabble of his pencil moving over paper. Indeed, Tenten knew the sound well -- Although it was nothing more than a distant memory at this point -- A drawn out scrape marked one long line scrawled across the sheet, followed by a few short strokes. For detail, the young woman assumed. And then came the clear sounds of rubbing. Or erasing. Smudging, even, perhaps. From the stories Itachi had heard of his stray dog of a lover, she wouldn't put it past his talents. "They're boring, yeah? You've sat in during one of those classes before. All the models are exactly the same, just as stiff and unmoving as the next."
Their voices were soft and they had been speaking in whispered tones, so it would have been an easy feat to ignore them and return to the dreamless sleep that had filled her nights since coming to stay with them. -- Whether out of pure will or convenience, Tenten wasn't exactly sure. But she was grateful for them all the same, if only to escape her own guilt for having to leave and break her promise to everyone. -- But for whatever reason, the conversation had slowly seeped into her conscious mind and carried her out of the world of slumber.
"It's what they're paid to do."
"They're stiff and uninteresting, mn."
"And she's not."
Tenten almost scoffed at the small hint of jealousy she heard in his tone, but thought better of it and fought the instant reaction. It was more of a statement than a question, part of him already knowing the answer before the words even came out, she supposed. Otherwise, why bother with these 'morning sessions' to begin with? From the brief time she had been able to spend with the two of them when she was allowed to stay over for the night, the blond had seemed like the sort who would do as he pleased despite what most others thought, save for one. But always, his intentions were done with a purpose in mind.
"She's a lot more interesting to look at, yeah, that's for sure. Especially with those." Secretly, she hoped he meant the scars that were marked all across her body.
"I would say thank you if you didn't just wake me up from a good nap," Tenten mumbled quietly.
Slowly, she creaked opened her eyes, finding the world too bright and far too early to take on the full ray of the morning sun. And with a bit of motivation, the young woman shifted her gaze towards the foot of the bed where the voices had seemed to emanate from. Her eyes were met with two very familiar and distinct faces. Deidara held a look of indifference to being caught spying on her while she was unconscious, as if he didn't care. And, to be perfectly honest, Tenten supposed she would be more surprised if the blond actually did. No, it was Itachi who was of more interest and amusement, having a sort of deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression mapped across his face. At least for someone who hardly would allow himself to move past his usual muted neutrality. And it was in that way that Tenten could see how well the both of them were suited for each other.
"Next time you decide to discuss my interesting modelability, do it in the next room. Or at least hold out a breakfast tray for me to snack on."
And with that, the young woman rolled over and tried her best to go back to empty world of dreams she had been living in for weeks now. They were certainly a lot better than the world of guilt, turmoil, and confusion that had filled her days since Tenten had left the Uchiha.
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Word count: 1117
Character(s): Tenten, Deidara, Uchiha Itachi; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Fugaku
Pairing(s): None
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Randomly written fic inspired by the events and planned plots that took place at TheRisingSun. The headcanon wanted more. Who was I to deny it?
Dedicated to:
nothinglanguage and soliloquiiiYears of martial arts classes and tournaments had given her a fairly stable foundation to develop a healthy and slim, if not lithe, body. The physical demands of becoming a vital component to the Uchiha regime only chiseled those features even further to near perfection. But for Tenten, these things never held any real conscious space in her mind. Her father had always been a strong and fit man, after all, and only through necessity. It took a physically powerful person to go through the constant motion of pounding at hardened metals under the blazing hot conditions of the furnace to remain one of the top specialists in the city for his field. Perhaps, even, in the entire country. And growing up, her mother had always been the main driving force behind her own healthy habits. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind, and vice versa, she used to say.
Tenten had lived by that principle to keep herself and those she protected alive.
So when others would find the means and courage to comment on the results of her labor, it was a struggle to find any real compliment in the words. At best, she could appreciate the recognition of her efforts and capabilities. But beauty was subjective and varied between person to person. And there were no guarantees that hers would last. That it wasn't already marred with the number of scars that littered the young woman's body. Then again, she supposed, such things didn't matter when they were being discussed while she was unconscious in sleep.
After years of working as the head of security at a prestigious and luxurious hotel, the young woman had developed into what others would consider a light sleeper. With enemies around every corner and the constant need to topple the Uchiha empire from its coveted pedestal, she had been expected to be ready to jump into action at any given moment to ensure that the clan would continue to survive. That Sasuke survived. That was the promise she had made to Fugaku and Itachi. And that was the promise Tenten had made to herself.
In leaving the only real family she had during a fit of emotional distress -- in favor of keeping her own sanity -- that level of devotion was no longer necessary. So when Deidara had decided that he would take steps to sketch her every morning while she slept, Tenten had been clueless. And would have continued to be so if Itachi hadn't managed to finally reserve a day off from working at the precinct.
"You sketch women's bodies everyday. Men too." - And there was a distinct snicker at the later part of the statement that had her wondering just what implications came with it -- "Why not wait until class and use them as models. Like you're supposed to be doing?"
"Because," the other responded. All the while, she could hear the faint scrabble of his pencil moving over paper. Indeed, Tenten knew the sound well -- Although it was nothing more than a distant memory at this point -- A drawn out scrape marked one long line scrawled across the sheet, followed by a few short strokes. For detail, the young woman assumed. And then came the clear sounds of rubbing. Or erasing. Smudging, even, perhaps. From the stories Itachi had heard of his stray dog of a lover, she wouldn't put it past his talents. "They're boring, yeah? You've sat in during one of those classes before. All the models are exactly the same, just as stiff and unmoving as the next."
Their voices were soft and they had been speaking in whispered tones, so it would have been an easy feat to ignore them and return to the dreamless sleep that had filled her nights since coming to stay with them. -- Whether out of pure will or convenience, Tenten wasn't exactly sure. But she was grateful for them all the same, if only to escape her own guilt for having to leave and break her promise to everyone. -- But for whatever reason, the conversation had slowly seeped into her conscious mind and carried her out of the world of slumber.
"It's what they're paid to do."
"They're stiff and uninteresting, mn."
"And she's not."
Tenten almost scoffed at the small hint of jealousy she heard in his tone, but thought better of it and fought the instant reaction. It was more of a statement than a question, part of him already knowing the answer before the words even came out, she supposed. Otherwise, why bother with these 'morning sessions' to begin with? From the brief time she had been able to spend with the two of them when she was allowed to stay over for the night, the blond had seemed like the sort who would do as he pleased despite what most others thought, save for one. But always, his intentions were done with a purpose in mind.
"She's a lot more interesting to look at, yeah, that's for sure. Especially with those." Secretly, she hoped he meant the scars that were marked all across her body.
"I would say thank you if you didn't just wake me up from a good nap," Tenten mumbled quietly.
Slowly, she creaked opened her eyes, finding the world too bright and far too early to take on the full ray of the morning sun. And with a bit of motivation, the young woman shifted her gaze towards the foot of the bed where the voices had seemed to emanate from. Her eyes were met with two very familiar and distinct faces. Deidara held a look of indifference to being caught spying on her while she was unconscious, as if he didn't care. And, to be perfectly honest, Tenten supposed she would be more surprised if the blond actually did. No, it was Itachi who was of more interest and amusement, having a sort of deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression mapped across his face. At least for someone who hardly would allow himself to move past his usual muted neutrality. And it was in that way that Tenten could see how well the both of them were suited for each other.
"Next time you decide to discuss my interesting modelability, do it in the next room. Or at least hold out a breakfast tray for me to snack on."
And with that, the young woman rolled over and tried her best to go back to empty world of dreams she had been living in for weeks now. They were certainly a lot better than the world of guilt, turmoil, and confusion that had filled her days since Tenten had left the Uchiha.
no subject
no subject
Anything for the love of art was what I was thinking. And you gotta admit, Deidara's right. A sleeping Tenten would be more interesting to draw out than most~