endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2013-11-13 12:13 am
endless_scrolls) wrote2013-11-13 12:13 am
Your Move
Title: Your Move
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Theme: 04. Shadow puppetry [ Wordcount: 988 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Madara; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke, Orochimaru, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Itachi, Uzumaki Naruto
Pairing(s): Hints of Sasuke/Tenten
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Random series of one-shots based on the themes borrowed from20_aus although... it's more like 25 since I plan on doing the extra/bonus themes too. In hindsight, this is probably a bad idea for trimming back on the plot bunnies.
Dedicated to:its_game_time; because their dynamic works in any universe, I say. 8|
Useless fact: 'The red string of fate, also referred to as the red thread of destiny, red thread of fate, and other variants, is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend and is also used in Japanese legend. [...] The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmates or a twin flame.'
Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, the young Goddess stepped forward towards the edge of the Nothingness. And in the swirl of clouds, there stood a young man, scarred from experience and hardened by both resolve as well as the throes of war. He was no older than twenty seasons, but had been aged by his hardships. And after years of struggle, he found himself seated at a high post as commander of an entire army; leader of a whole garrison of men who pledged their lives and loyalty to him and him, alone.
Such a feat as that had only been achieved by two others before him. One had been his master and teacher. The other had been his brother.
Yes, Tenten knew his life and history well.
From her high perch on Olympus, she had watched him - she had watched them all as all the Gods had from their seats of power; such was the favored pastime among the immortals. But for her, it was much more than simply finding entertainment in the dramas and plights of mortal men. Hers was a curiosity that stemmed from the age-old question: did they truly have control over the humans, or were they simply meddlers in their lives?
From the very spot of which she stood, many have tried to answer that inquiry - several had tried for centuries - herself more than most, perhaps. All the while, the calm Goddess kept a careful eye on the latest of a long line of her patrons, watching over them as a mother would for her children. In a way, they were just that to her, budding and new and unknowing to all the things that the world would offer if only they would reach out to grab at them,
"Planning your next conquest?"
Glancing over her shoulder, she fixed him with an incredulous look at the comment made, her voice low and still even despite it. "Only you would mistake guidance for manipulation."
He scoffed in turn, strolling in beside her to look down on the mortal world. "Just because you're deluded by your 'infinite wisdom' doesn't mean the rest of us have to play along as well."
Exhausted with his words and growing ever weary of his efforts to contest her at every turn, the Goddess gave a heavy sigh, lips pressed together in a thin and stern line.
He had been a thorn in her side; a nuisance sine the beginning in a time uncounted. And she knew with a loathing ache that he would remain until the end of existence, prodding at her pride and padding his own in the meantime. It was a rivalry written in the stars and one that they could not deny, on principle. He governed over the fighting spirit of warfare. She presided over the stratagem that won them. And ever, it was a contest to see who would emerge victorious in the end: the body or the mind.
"Conquest, as you put it, is hardly necessary." Proud and strong - immovable - she stood to face him head on, continuing the dance of wills that Madara always seemed so intent and eager to perpetuate. "The Uchiha have always come to worship at my temple."
"...For now." And with the same, cool ease, he circled around her. So much like the vulture he was. So much like the advocate of Orochimaru he refused to admit he was. "What will happen when your hold on him fades? When he can no longer serve as your pawn?"
Her head snapped and turned. fixing a hard glare in the other's direction. "The choice was always his."
The smile that filtered across his lips was sinister and seemed laced with so much mischief that Tenten was almost concerned with what the old God might have in mind for her charge. He always did enjoy challenging her beliefs and doing everything he could to steal her charges, Easily, on most occasions. For the will of men were so swayed by the promise of victory and power.
Humans were nothing if not slaves to their own vices. He certainly did little to help hide his lack of faith in them. "You say that with such honesty. I almost find myself believing it."
"It is the pure truth, no matter what you think," she bit out, finding too often that she tended to lose her composure in his presence, "I might have nudged every now and again when he seemed... conflicted. But every turn in the path has always been the result of his convictions."
He was head-strong; more stubborn than any and every Uchiha that ever lived before him. With a father like Fugaku and a reputation like Itachi's to live up to, he could be no other way to survive through the trenches of his self-serving and righteous clan. But most of all, the Goddess knew him to be confused and torn over his choices, unsure over which course of action to take when faced with adversity.
In the end, he always chose the harder path. The more difficult path. And that was a quality that attracted her over everyone else. "It was why I chose to test him over the Konohan. He's... refreshing."
"I'd tread lightly if I were you. Too often, intrigue turns to interest. And we both know where that could lead..." Even so, she could feel the weight of his eyes against her back, a sinister grin pulling across his scarred lips. Despite his caution, Madara was far from concerned. It was far from a warning.
It was a threat. He was plotting. And Tenten was wary at the idea of what he had in store for Sasuke. Because whatever course of action that the God of War planned on taking, she was sure that it would effect her charge in some way; change his path.
Possibly, even, alter his destiny.
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Theme: 04. Shadow puppetry [ Wordcount: 988 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Madara; brief mentions of Uchiha Sasuke, Orochimaru, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Itachi, Uzumaki Naruto
Pairing(s): Hints of Sasuke/Tenten
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Random series of one-shots based on the themes borrowed from
20_aus Dedicated to:
its_game_time; because their dynamic works in any universe, I say. 8|Useless fact: 'The red string of fate, also referred to as the red thread of destiny, red thread of fate, and other variants, is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend and is also used in Japanese legend. [...] The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmates or a twin flame.'
Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, the young Goddess stepped forward towards the edge of the Nothingness. And in the swirl of clouds, there stood a young man, scarred from experience and hardened by both resolve as well as the throes of war. He was no older than twenty seasons, but had been aged by his hardships. And after years of struggle, he found himself seated at a high post as commander of an entire army; leader of a whole garrison of men who pledged their lives and loyalty to him and him, alone.
Such a feat as that had only been achieved by two others before him. One had been his master and teacher. The other had been his brother.
Yes, Tenten knew his life and history well.
From her high perch on Olympus, she had watched him - she had watched them all as all the Gods had from their seats of power; such was the favored pastime among the immortals. But for her, it was much more than simply finding entertainment in the dramas and plights of mortal men. Hers was a curiosity that stemmed from the age-old question: did they truly have control over the humans, or were they simply meddlers in their lives?
From the very spot of which she stood, many have tried to answer that inquiry - several had tried for centuries - herself more than most, perhaps. All the while, the calm Goddess kept a careful eye on the latest of a long line of her patrons, watching over them as a mother would for her children. In a way, they were just that to her, budding and new and unknowing to all the things that the world would offer if only they would reach out to grab at them,
"Planning your next conquest?"
Glancing over her shoulder, she fixed him with an incredulous look at the comment made, her voice low and still even despite it. "Only you would mistake guidance for manipulation."
He scoffed in turn, strolling in beside her to look down on the mortal world. "Just because you're deluded by your 'infinite wisdom' doesn't mean the rest of us have to play along as well."
Exhausted with his words and growing ever weary of his efforts to contest her at every turn, the Goddess gave a heavy sigh, lips pressed together in a thin and stern line.
He had been a thorn in her side; a nuisance sine the beginning in a time uncounted. And she knew with a loathing ache that he would remain until the end of existence, prodding at her pride and padding his own in the meantime. It was a rivalry written in the stars and one that they could not deny, on principle. He governed over the fighting spirit of warfare. She presided over the stratagem that won them. And ever, it was a contest to see who would emerge victorious in the end: the body or the mind.
"Conquest, as you put it, is hardly necessary." Proud and strong - immovable - she stood to face him head on, continuing the dance of wills that Madara always seemed so intent and eager to perpetuate. "The Uchiha have always come to worship at my temple."
"...For now." And with the same, cool ease, he circled around her. So much like the vulture he was. So much like the advocate of Orochimaru he refused to admit he was. "What will happen when your hold on him fades? When he can no longer serve as your pawn?"
Her head snapped and turned. fixing a hard glare in the other's direction. "The choice was always his."
The smile that filtered across his lips was sinister and seemed laced with so much mischief that Tenten was almost concerned with what the old God might have in mind for her charge. He always did enjoy challenging her beliefs and doing everything he could to steal her charges, Easily, on most occasions. For the will of men were so swayed by the promise of victory and power.
Humans were nothing if not slaves to their own vices. He certainly did little to help hide his lack of faith in them. "You say that with such honesty. I almost find myself believing it."
"It is the pure truth, no matter what you think," she bit out, finding too often that she tended to lose her composure in his presence, "I might have nudged every now and again when he seemed... conflicted. But every turn in the path has always been the result of his convictions."
He was head-strong; more stubborn than any and every Uchiha that ever lived before him. With a father like Fugaku and a reputation like Itachi's to live up to, he could be no other way to survive through the trenches of his self-serving and righteous clan. But most of all, the Goddess knew him to be confused and torn over his choices, unsure over which course of action to take when faced with adversity.
In the end, he always chose the harder path. The more difficult path. And that was a quality that attracted her over everyone else. "It was why I chose to test him over the Konohan. He's... refreshing."
"I'd tread lightly if I were you. Too often, intrigue turns to interest. And we both know where that could lead..." Even so, she could feel the weight of his eyes against her back, a sinister grin pulling across his scarred lips. Despite his caution, Madara was far from concerned. It was far from a warning.
It was a threat. He was plotting. And Tenten was wary at the idea of what he had in store for Sasuke. Because whatever course of action that the God of War planned on taking, she was sure that it would effect her charge in some way; change his path.
Possibly, even, alter his destiny.