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espresso1patronum · 4 months ago

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Nine Lives, One Knight

(batman!gojo x catwoman!reader)

synopsis: By day, Gojo Satoru is Gotham’s golden boy—billionaire, genius, untouchable. By night, he’s the Bat, a relentless force in the city’s shadows. You? You’re Catwoman—master thief, chaos incarnate, always one step ahead. You’ve spent years dancing around each other, neither willing to truly win. But when a new faction, the Black Veil, sets its sights on Gotham’s most powerful players—including you and the Bat—you’re forced into an uneasy alliance. Tension crackles, lines blur, and the game you’ve always played turns deadly. Because this time, it’s not just about the city. This time, it’s about each other.

cw: batman au, mutual pining, slow burn, sort of enemies to lovers, angst, violence, blood, injury mention, gun violence, kinda gory? kinda forbidden love? Toji, geto, shoko and nanami cameo lmao

word count: 10.1k

author's note: this had been in my drafts for a very long time and after the poll results, I thought i'd finish this. it's not much, but I enjoyed writing this jjk x dc crossover.

Gotham was never silent.

Not even at midnight.

Not even when the rain came down in thick, suffocating sheets, drenching the city in shadows. Somewhere below, sirens wailed. Tires screeched. A single gunshot cracked through the air, distant but unmistakable.

To some, the noise was chaos. To you?

It was home.

You move across the rooftop with practiced ease, the weight of the Black Veil’s encrypted drive tucked safely into the pocket of your suit. The heist had been too easy. A little slip past the lasers, a quick crack of the safe, and just like that—you were out.

Something worth a small fortune in your hands. Or rather—something that could destroy half of Gotham’s elite if it ended up in the wrong hands.

(Or the right ones, depending on who you asked.)

A clean escape. A successful job. You should be gone by now.

And yet—

A shiver runs down your spine. Not from the cold. Not from the rain. From something else.

Something you can’t see, but feel.

You land soundlessly on another rooftop, pausing only for a second to scan the city below. Nothing. No movement. Just the familiar neon glow of Gotham’s underbelly.

Still—your fingers twitch. Instinct coils in your gut, whispering a warning you don’t want to acknowledge.

Too easy.

Too—

“Going somewhere, kitten?”

The voice comes from behind you, smooth as silk, dark as thunder.

You don’t startle. You don’t turn. Instead, you let a slow, knowing smirk curl at your lips before you finally glance back.

There he is.

Perched on the edge of the rooftop like he belongs in the night, the rain dripping off the edges of his cowl, his cape shifting slightly in the wind. Batman.

Or rather—Gojo Satoru.

You should’ve known he’d show up. Maybe you did. Maybe you ignored it.

"Bold of you," you murmur, fingers flexing, ready to bolt. "Sneaking up on a cat in the dark."

His head tilts, and though the mask hides half his face, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Please," he drawls. "You knew I was here before you even touched the ground."

He's right. You did. But you don’t let him win that easily.

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, Bat?" You shift your weight, rolling your shoulders, keeping it casual. "Or do you just like following me around?"

He steps closer. Slow. Deliberate. The way a storm rolls in—inevitable.

"You stole something," he says.

You sigh, dramatically. "I steal a lot of things. You’ll have to be more specific."

"You know what I’m talking about."

He’s close enough now that you can see the flicker of blue beneath his mask. The kind of dangerous blue that makes your pulse stutter for half a second before you shut it down.

"Give it to me," he says, voice quieter this time.

You shake your head, clicking your tongue. "Oh, Bat. You always ask so nicely."

Before he can move, you bolt.

And that’s when the rooftop explodes.

A deafening boom shatters the night, the blast wave knocking you clean off your feet. You don’t have time to think, don’t have time to react—your body moves on instinct, twisting midair, boots scraping against the slick rooftop as you skid dangerously close to the edge.

Shit.

The explosion wasn’t meant for him. It was meant for you.

You barely have time to register the shift in the air before an arm wraps around your waist—strong, unyielding, and familiar—yanking you backward just as the ledge beneath your feet crumbles.

You don’t fall.

Because he doesn’t let you.

When the smoke clears, you’re half-sprawled against him, one of his arms still locked around your waist, his other hand braced against the rooftop. Your breaths come hard and fast, heart pounding against your ribs, adrenaline flooding your veins.

"Well," you huff, dazed but not broken. "Didn’t think you cared, Bat."

His grip tightens—just for a second. Just long enough for you to feel it.

"I don’t," he says flatly. But his jaw clenches. "Stay down."

You snort, pushing off of him as you roll onto your feet. "You and I both know that’s not happening."

He doesn’t argue. Because you’re right. Because whoever just tried to kill you isn’t done.

And they’re not alone.

From the rooftop across the alley, figures emerge from the shadows. Armed. Precise. Waiting.

Batman’s shoulders go rigid. His voice is low. Dangerous.

"They knew you’d be here."

You exhale sharply, adjusting your gloves. "Looks like we’re on the same side tonight, Bat."

The rain slicks the rooftop, turning it into a death trap. But you’ve fought in worse.

Across the alley, four figures move into position. Their weapons gleam under the glow of a distant streetlight—guns, knives, and something that looks an awful lot like a taser baton.

Cute.

Satoru tenses beside you, assessing. Calculating. His voice is low, barely audible over the rain. "Stay behind me."

You scoff, rolling your shoulders. "Not happening."

He doesn’t waste time arguing. Because you’re both outnumbered, because the enemy is moving—because there’s no time to fight each other when you’re about to fight them.

And then—they strike.

One gunshot. Two. You react on instinct, dropping low, twisting away, boots skidding against the rooftop. Batman’s cape flares as he moves—one sharp flick of his wrist, and a batarang slices through the dark, knocking a pistol clean from one of their hands.

Fast and efficient. Classic him.

You? You have your own way of doing things.

The second attacker lunges at you with a knife. You sidestep, grab their wrist, twist—the blade clatters to the ground. Before they can react, your elbow smashes into their ribs, sending them stumbling backward with a wheeze.

"Really?" you taunt, dodging another strike. "You came all this way just to embarrass yourselves?"

Batman doesn’t look at you, but you swear you can feel his exasperation.

"Focus."

You grin. "I am focused."

And then you flip over one of the attackers, landing smoothly behind them before slamming them headfirst into a ventilation unit.

Batman exhales sharply. "Could’ve just knocked them out."

"They’ll wake up." You dodge another strike. "Eventually."

More gunfire. Batman twists mid-air, cape flowing like liquid shadow as he dodges the bullets. In the same motion, he grabs your wrist—yanking you forward, pulling you out of the line of fire just as another shot rings out.

You’re so close you can hear his heartbeat.

For half a second, the world shrinks. The rain, the chaos, the rooftop beneath your feet, it all disappears.

It’s just you and him. Breathing the same air.

Then—"Move."

And just like that, the moment is gone.

You both explode into motion, flawless in sync. A kick to the ribs. A punch to the jaw. A perfect sweep of your leg sends another attacker sprawling.

It’s fast. Clean. Too easy.

When the last enemy collapses, groaning, you barely break a sweat.

You exhale, shaking out your arms. "Well," you say, breathless. "That was fun."

Satoru glares at you. "This wasn’t a game."

"Could’ve fooled me." You step over one of the unconscious bodies, crouching slightly to pat them down. No ID. No insignia. No obvious ties to the Black Veil.

But then— your fingers brush against something cold. Metal.

Your stomach drops.

A small device is clipped to one of their belts. Black, sleek, with a blinking red light.

Shit.

Your head snaps up. Satoru sees it the same moment you do, his voice is sharp. "Bomb." A soft beep. A single second.

And then— the rooftop blows apart beneath your feet.

Pain.

It drags you back to consciousness, slow and disorienting, like surfacing from deep water. Your body aches, the sharp sting of a fresh wound cutting through the dull throb of bruises.

The last thing you remember—the rooftop. The explosion.

And then—falling.

Your eyes snap open. You’re not on the street. You’re not dead.

Instead, you’re somewhere dimly lit, the soft hum of an old heater filling the silence. A safehouse.

Your head tilts slightly. The room is small—just a battered couch, an old desk, and a half-broken lamp casting flickering shadows against the walls.

And across from you— standing near the door, arms crossed, still in full suit— is Batman.

Gojo.

Watching you.

You shift, trying to sit up, but a sharp pull at your side stops you. That’s when you realize— your suit is torn and your stomach is bandaged, and you sure as hell didn’t do it yourself.

A slow smirk tugs at your lips. "Didn’t take you for the hands-on type, Bat."

His jaw ticks. "You were bleeding."

"Aww," you tease, voice still hoarse. "You do care."

He steps closer. The soft glow of the lamp catches the edge of his mask, illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint tension in his shoulders.

"You almost died." His voice is quiet now, lacking its usual smugness. Too honest.

You tilt your head, studying him. Something about the way he’s looking at you feels... different.

Like he hated seeing you like that. Like it unnerved him.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air is thick, heavy, charged with something unspoken.

Then—he exhales, stepping back, breaking the moment.

"You need rest," he mutters.

You shift again, testing the pain, biting back a wince. "I need answers."

"You need to not die."

"You didn’t answer my question."

His hands tighten into fists at his sides. He doesn’t look at you, but his voice is sharp, precise. Avoiding something.

"The bomb was a trap. Someone wanted you dead."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, I figured that part out, Bat."

He ignores the sarcasm. "Who else knew you’d be at that vault?"

"Just me."

His gaze flickers to you, sharp and assessing. Like he doesn’t believe you.

You sigh, leaning back against the couch. "Look, I don’t have a name yet. Just whispers about a buyer wanting the drive. But if they’re willing to go that far to kill me for it—"

"—then you’re already in too deep."

There’s something grim in his tone that makes your stomach twist. You study him carefully. His cowl hides most of his face, but you’ve seen him fight, seen him move.

Gojo Satoru is always too confident. Too smug. Like he knows he’s the strongest, the fastest, the smartest in the room.

But right now? Right now, he looks... frustrated.

Not at you. He is frustrated for you and the realization is dangerous.

You push it down and swallow it whole. "Relax, Bat," you say, forcing a smirk. "I still got, what, six lives left?"

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t take the bait. But then your breath catches as he kneels infront of you but you don't move.

You should. You should say something—anything—but you don’t. Because his hands are on you again, pressing carefully against your bandaged side, checking his work.

He’s too close. His touch warm, solid, and careful.

And for the first time, he looks at you—not as an opponent. Not as a thief. But as something else entirely.

The silence stretches and you wish it hadn't because your heart is pounding in a way it isn't supposed to.

And then— he shifts.

You feel it before it happens. The slow lean forward. The weight of his stare. The way your own pulse betrays you, beating too fast, too hard, in the space between you.

Almost—

But then, the moment shatters.

The old radio in the corner crackles to life, static hissing before a voice cuts through. "Breaking news—an attack on Gotham’s financial district just moments ago—"

You blink as he pulls back and you just clear your throat, wanting to push all the wierd thoughts that were clouding your mind right now.

Satoru's expression hardens, as he stands, straightens his suit and steps away. "You stay here," he says, all business again.

You smirk, ignoring the sharp ache in your ribs. "Come on, Bat. You know that’s not happening."

He exhales, long-suffering. "You’re injured."

"And yet I still fight better than half your enemies."

He pauses and stares at you as though you'd said something wrong. Then, finally—a reluctant smirk. "Try to keep up, kitten."

Satoru hadn’t always been like this in the past when you met him. He was obnoxious, full of himself, always eager to show off his strength and speed in front of you. But today—this time—he felt different. For the first time, he seemed genuinely serious. And maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of vulnerability in the way he spoke, in the way Gotham’s Batman spoke.

You told yourself it had nothing to do with you. But no matter how hard you tried to push the thought away, you couldn’t help but wonder—what if it did?

Sneaking into Gotham’s financial district isn’t hard. But sneaking in with Batman?

Now that’s a challenge.

You slip through the shadows like you were born for this—because you were. Satoru moves beside you, silent, precise, and still annoyingly smug. You glance at him. "Not bad, Bat."

He doesn’t look at you. "Not trying to impress you, kitten."

Liar.

The building looms ahead, dark and empty except for the guards patrolling the perimeter. "Twelve," you murmur, already counting. "Four on the roof, two at the entrance, six inside."

He hums. "I’ll take the roof. You take the inside."

You grin. "Awfully trusting, Bat."

"If you get caught, I’m not saving you."

You both know that’s a lie.

Getting in is easy. Getting to the main office where the stolen drive is hidden? Even easier. You’re already at the vault, fingers working over the lock, when— you hear footsteps.

Shit.

You whirl around, but it’s too late—one of the guards spots you. The alarm blares.

"Dammit," you hiss, already moving, flipping over the desk as more guards storm in. You could take them. You should take them. It's really easy for you actually.

But before you even get the chance— a blur of black crashes through the skylight. Batman lands hard, cape billowing, taking down two guards before his boots even hit the floor.

You blink. "Show-off."

"You’re welcome," he mutters, throwing a punch.

It’s a blur of fists, kicks, and electricity. You move too well together, too in sync. It’s not just skill—it’s instinct. Every time you dodge, he’s already covering your blind spot. Every time he moves, you’re already reading his next step.

It’s flawless. It’s deadly. It’s perfect but— a bit too much. At some point, you end up back-to-back. Panting, bruised and your adrenaline spiking.

His voice is low, breathless. "You good?"

You swallow hard because you shouldn’t be this affected. You shouldn't be affected by anything he says or he does because you don't care, right?

"Always."

And then— a hand grips your wrist. It was a guard you didn’t see. You twist your hand, ready to counter, but before you can, Batman moves first.

Fast. Too fast.

His hand grips the front of your suit—yanking you forward, spinning you behind him as he slams the attacker into the wall with enough force to shake the room.

With a loud thud, the guy drops instantly and you hear nothing but the silence that is lingering in the air. The only sound is your breath and his, his hand still gripping your suit, still holding you.

You look up at him and find him already watching you. He’s too close for your liking. Or is he?

His jaw is tight, his chest rising and falling in steady yet controlled breaths, and his grip on you remains firm. Your pulse slams against your ribs. There’s something in the air—something that shifts, pulling both of you in. You feel it. And so does he.

You hate this. Or at least, you tell yourself you do. But the truth is, you can’t stop it. It’s happening, inevitable and inescapable. This isn’t just a fight anymore. This is something else entirely. And this time, no one interrupts. No radio crackling to life, no explosions in the distance, no convenient excuse to look away.

It’s just you. Him. And a choice.

Before you can even pull yourself back, before your mind can fully grasp the situation, Satoru makes the decision for you. He yanks you forward, his lips crashing onto yours, his mask half-pulled up—just like yours. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you in closer.

And despite everything, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t—you kiss him back.

Your back slams against cold metal, the impact sending a shiver down your spine—not that you can focus on it. Not when he’s leaning in, fingers curling into your suit, pulling, pressing, taking.

You don’t even realize you’re kissing him back until it’s too late. Until your hands are in his hair, gripping, tugging, dragging him closer. Until his weight is the only thing keeping you upright.

The vault. The alarms. The entire damn mission—forgotten. Because all you can think about is—

This is dangerous. This is a mistake. This is—

“Fuck,” you breathe against his lips.

And then— he pulls back, barely.

His breath is ragged, his gloved hand still firm on your jaw, his eyes burning with something wild, like he can’t believe he just did that or like he can’t believe he wants to do it again.

The silence between you crackles like a live wire.

Then he swallows. “We can’t—”

You shove him off. Hard.

Your body still hums from his touch, your lips still tingling, your pulse betraying you. But you don’t let any of it show. Instead, you smirk, sharp as a blade.

“Didn’t know the Bat had such bad impulse control.”

His expression doesn’t change, but you see it—the exact moment he chooses denial. The way his walls snap back into place like steel reinforcements.

His mask comes down. His voice turns cold. “Let’s move.”

And just like that, it’s over.

Except it isn’t.

Because now, the line between you is blurred beyond recognition. Because now, you know what he tastes like. Because now, everything has changed.

And there’s no undoing it.

Gotham’s elite love to party.

It’s how they distract themselves from the fact that their city is rotting beneath them.

Big money, expensive champagne, and a ballroom filled with people who don’t care about anything but themselves.

It’s your kind of scene.

A place where no one notices a missing diamond necklace. Where a stolen keycard goes unreported. Where masks are more than just accessories.

And yet— tonight, you’re not here to steal. Tonight, you're here for him.

It had been a few days since that night—since everything that happened between you and Satoru. Or Batman.

Now, another party was being thrown by Gotham’s elite, and of course, Batman had been invited. And, of course, you had to see him again.

It felt awkward.

Because no matter how much you wanted to ignore it, that kiss had meant something. To both of you. And you didn’t want it to.

You wanted to talk to him like nothing had happened. Like nothing ever would happen again. Right?

You wanted to tell him it was just the adrenaline, just the chaos of that night, nothing more. That’s all it was. That’s all it could ever be.

Gojo Satoru feels you before he sees you.

A shift in the air. A prickle at the back of his neck.

And then— you walk in, dressed to kill.

Silk. Black. Dangerous. A slit running high up your thigh, the soft glint of diamonds resting against your collarbone.

And when your gaze meets his across the ballroom— his throat goes dry.

Because he hasn’t seen you since the kiss. Because you’re smiling like it never happened. Because the second you do— you turn away, and walk straight into another man’s arms.

You feel his stare before you even see him. It lingers on your skin, heavy and unrelenting, like a touch without contact. But you don’t look. Not yet.

Instead, you let the man beside you—some rich idiot with more money than sense—pull you closer, his hand brushing over your waist, his breath warm as he leans in.

"You look exquisite tonight," he murmurs, voice smooth, practiced.

You hum, barely interested. "I know." And still, you feel him.

Watching. Brooding. Jealous. Exactly as you wanted.

So when you finally turn—when your gaze finally locks onto his across the crowded ballroom—you make sure to smirk.

And just like that, he’s gone.

But you know better. He didn’t leave. Not really.

So when you step outside onto the balcony, the cool Gotham night air brushing against your skin, you’re not surprised to find him already there. He stands by the railing, his posture deceptively relaxed, fingers curled around a glass of untouched champagne.

His mask is gone, but his walls? Higher than ever.

You exhale slowly as you step closer, watching him carefully. "Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Bat."

He doesn’t look at you when he answers. "I’m not."

You tilt your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. "Could’ve fooled me."

Silence settles between you, thick with unspoken words and something else, something heavier. The tension coils between you like a wire pulled too tight, waiting to snap.

And then, you break it.

"You’ve been avoiding me," you say, your voice quieter now.

His jaw tightens, but his expression doesn’t shift. "You’ve been avoiding me."

"Maybe," you admit. A small smirk tugs at your lips as you step even closer. "Or maybe I was just waiting for you to make the first move."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "That’s not how this works, kitten."

"Then how does it work?" Your voice is softer now, your gaze steady. "Because last I checked, you kissed me."

His breath hitches, barely audible.

For a moment, he doesn’t move.

And then— you’re against the railing, his hand is on your waist, his grip firm, fingers pressing against the silk of your dress as if anchoring himself in place. His breath is warm against your skin, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

"It was a mistake," he murmurs, though there’s no conviction behind the words.

You smirk, tilting your head slightly. "Then why are you still thinking about it?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Because you already know.

And when his grip tightens on your waist, when his breath ghosts over your lips, you can see it—the exact moment he realizes he’s already lost.

You could kiss him right now. It would be easy. He’s already too close. His body is practically caging you in, his presence overwhelming. His fingers press into your waist like he doesn’t want to let go, like he’s memorizing the feeling of you beneath his touch. His breath is warm against your lips, his eyes dark and unreadable.

And you know he wants it. Because he hasn’t moved away. Because his grip keeps tightening, like he’s fighting himself but losing the battle.

Because when you whisper, "What are you so afraid of, Bat?" his lips part—like he’s about to answer.

Like he’s about to give in. Like this is finally it.

And then— "We’ve got a problem." The comm in his ear crackles to life, shattering the moment.

Just like that, his entire body stiffens. The warmth disappears, replaced by something cold, something distant. You watch it happen—the exact second he shuts down. The moment he remembers who he is. Who you are. What this is.

His hand falls away. His walls slam back up.

When he speaks again, his voice is devoid of whatever had been lingering between you just seconds ago. "I have to go."

You don’t let it show—the disappointment, the frustration curling inside your chest, the ache you don’t want to name. Instead, you force a smirk, tilting your head slightly.

"Duty calls, huh?"

His expression remains unreadable. "Always."

And with that— he’s gone.

But there's always a problem. You should've known this was a setup. You should have left the party the second he walked away.

You should have ignored the champagne, the meaningless conversations, and the empty laughter echoing through the ballroom. You should have disappeared into the night before anyone had the chance to notice.

But you didn’t. And now, you are paying for it.

The moment you step out the back entrance and into the dimly lit alleyway, something slams into you with brutal force. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, sending you stumbling. Before you can react, a sharp sting pierces the side of your neck.

Your vision blurs instantly as your body feels heavy and unsteady. The world tilts beneath you as you struggle to stay upright, but your limbs refuse to cooperate.

Through the haze, a voice reaches your ears, low and amused. "Nighty night, kitty."

Darkness swallows you whole.

"Say that again."

His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

Shoko hesitates over the comms. "She’s missing. No one’s seen her since the party. Word on the street is—"

She doesn’t get the chance to finish. He is already moving. His mind is no longer in the conversation. His focus sharpens, narrowing in on a single, undeniable truth.

Someone took you. And that changes everything.

This isn’t part of the game you and he have played for years. This isn’t the usual chase through Gotham’s streets, the endless dance of pursuit and escape. This isn’t teasing smirks and near-missed captures.

This is something else, something darker.

Someone dared to take you, and that is a very, very big problem.

Because you are his to chase. Because no one else gets to touch you. Because if they have hurt you— he will burn this entire fucking city to the ground.

Pain is the first thing you register. The feeling's not new at all though.

A dull, throbbing ache pulses behind your eyes, heavy and unrelenting. A sharp sting burns at your wrists where the rope digs into your skin. Cold metal presses against your ankles, the bite of steel cuffs locking you in place.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself as the haze begins to clear. You’re tied to a chair.

The air is thick with the scent of damp concrete, musty and stale, like an old basement that hasn't seen fresh air in years. A single lightbulb flickers overhead, its dim glow casting long, shifting shadows against the cracked walls.

You take a slow breath and assess your surroundings.

You’re underground. Maybe an abandoned warehouse. Maybe a storage facility. Wherever you are, it's hidden, tucked away from prying eyes.

And whoever took you here—they know what they’re doing.

You flex your fingers, testing the restraints, but before you can shift too much, a voice cuts through the silence.

"Ah, you’re awake."

The words are smooth, laced with amusement, as if this entire situation is nothing more than an entertaining inconvenience to him.

Your eyes snap toward the source of the voice, adjusting to the dim light, and when you finally see him, irritation flares in your chest.

Fushiguro Toji.

You let out a slow breath, biting back a groan. "You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me."

Toji smirks, leaning back in his chair like he has all the time in the world. "Surprised, kitty?"

"Annoyed," you correct, rolling your shoulders against the ropes. "Didn’t think I was worth your time."

He chuckles, dark amusement dancing in his green eyes. "Oh, you weren’t. But then I heard about your little… situation with Gotham’s Bat."

The words are casual, but your stomach twists.

You don’t react. You don’t tense. You don’t let the flicker of unease show on your face. Instead, you arch a brow and smirk. "Didn’t know he had fans."

"I wouldn’t call myself a fan," Toji muses, tilting his head. "But I do love a good weakness. And you, sweetheart?" He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You’re his."

Your heart skips just for a second.

But you keep your expression neutral because he’s wrong.

Right?

Right.

…Right?

Gojo finds the first guy in ten minutes.

The second in five.

By the time he gets to the third, his knuckles are already bloodied, bruises forming across his fingers from the force of his hits.

The man stumbles back, pressing himself against the brick wall, his breath coming out in short, panicked gasps. "I-I don’t know where they took her, I swear—"

Gojo’s expression is unreadable beneath his blindfold, but his voice is ice. "Where."

It isn’t a question. It’s a demand.

The man chokes, scrambling for words. "P-please, man, I just heard they took her underground—"

That’s all Gojo needs.

His fingers loosen, and the man collapses to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. But Gojo doesn’t wait. He’s already gone. Because he’s close. Because they took you from him. Because they think they can keep you.

And they’re about to learn just how wrong they are.

You won’t let him see you sweat.

Not when the ropes burn against your wrists, cutting into your skin with every twitch of your fingers. Not when your head pounds from whatever the hell they drugged you with, the fog in your brain refusing to lift. Not even when Fushiguro Toji leans in, eyes dark with amusement, the sharp glint of his knife catching the dim, flickering light.

He’s enjoying this.

Enjoying the way your muscles tense when the blade spins between his fingers. Enjoying the way your gaze flickers toward the door, toward the single exposed bulb swaying overhead.

Enjoying the way you’re waiting for something.

Or rather, someone.

"What’s wrong, kitty?" he murmurs, the cold edge of steel pressing against your cheek. "Thought your Bat would’ve come for you by now?"

Your lips curl into a smirk, masking the way your stomach coils with unease. "What, jealous?"

Toji chuckles, low and amused, before his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His grip is firm—not cruel, but controlling. A predator playing with his food.

"Nah," he muses. "Just curious how long it’s gonna take him to break."

Your stomach tightens because if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s this— he doesn’t break.

He shatters. And when he does— he takes everything down with him.

Gojo hears your heartbeat before he sees you. He has some sirt of a bat instinct, you see.

Faint. Steady. Alive.

That’s the only thing keeping him from ripping this place apart.

But the moment he steps inside—the moment his eyes land on you, tied to that fucking chair, with Toji crouched in front of you like a wolf toying with its prey—something inside him snaps.

"Step away from her." His voice is quiet and deadly. The kind of voice that promises violence.

Toji doesn’t even turn around. Instead, he grins, spinning his knife between his fingers. "Took you long enough, Bat."

Gojo doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink. "This is your only warning."

Toji finally turns, his sharp green eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Or what?"

Gojo tilts his head, slow and deliberate.

Then—he smiles. "Or I’ll show you why Gotham is afraid of the dark."

You’ve seen him fight before. You’ve seen the way he moves—quick, calculated, precise.

But this? This is different. This isn’t the controlled Bat, this isn’t the patient hunter.

This is Gojo Satoru with nothing left to hold back. And it’s terrifying. Because he’s not just fighting Toji.

He’s dismantling him.

A fist meets flesh with a sickening, brutal crack. Toji throws a punch—Gojo catches his wrist mid-air, twisting hard enough that the snap of bone echoes through the empty warehouse.

Toji grits his teeth, lunges—Gojo moves faster, dodging with ease before slamming him into the concrete so hard the ground cracks beneath them. There’s no banter. No smirk. No teasing.

There’s just rage.

And the worst part? Gojo is enjoying it. Because this isn’t just about you anymore. This is everything.

This is Gotham. The corruption. The powerlessness.

This is every ounce of anger he’s swallowed down for years, unleashed on the one bastard stupid enough to give him an excuse and if you don’t stop him now— he won’t stop at all.

"Satoru." Your voice barely reaches him over the pounding in his ears.

But the second you say his name—his real name— he freezes.

Fist still curled in Toji’s bloodied collar. Breath coming in slow, heavy exhales. Shoulders rising and falling with barely contained fury.

And then, slowly—he turns. His eyes meet yours, and for the briefest moment, they flicker—from Gotham’s Bat to the man underneath. That’s all you need.

"Let him go."

Gojo stares at you, unmoving, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second.

Then, with a sharp breath—he lets Toji’s unconscious body drop to the ground. The tension in his frame lingers, coiled tight, but his steps are steady as he moves toward you. The anger is still there. The darkness. The weight of everything he just did.

But his hands are gentle when they find the ropes binding your wrists.

"Let’s get you out of here."

The silence is suffocating.

You should be grateful though. The moment he cut you loose, he got you out—carried you through Gotham’s backstreets, made sure you weren’t followed. Now, you’re in a hidden safehouse—one of his, no doubt—sitting on an old couch, trying to ignore the dull ache in your wrists.

And him? He’s in the bathroom. Avoiding you.

You hear the water running, the steady drip of blood swirling down the sink. You should leave, you should run. But you don’t. Because you’re not done with him yet.

But for him it keeps replaying in his head. The way you said it.

'"Satoru."'

Not Batman. Not Bats. Not some teasing, smug nickname meant to piss him off. Just his name.

Like you knew exactly what it meant to use it. Like you knew it would break him.

His knuckles sting as he washes off the blood. He should have killed Toji. He should have— no.

No, he shouldn’t have let you get this close. He grips the edge of the sink, eyes burning into his reflection. He can’t want this. He can’t want you.

But then—a creak of the floorboard, a shift in the air. He doesn’t need to turn around to know you’re standing in the doorway. And when you speak— he already knows he’s fucked.

"Let me see your hands."

He doesn’t move, neither does he look at you. But he also doesn’t stop you when you step forward and reach for his hand. The bruises are already blooming, dark and angry across his knuckles.

You should say something sharp—something to piss him off, make him smirk, drag him back into whatever stupid game you’ve been playing for years. But for once, you don’t want to play.

"You could’ve killed him," your voice is quiet.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "I should have."

"That’s not who you are," you say as you caress the back of his hand.

That makes him snap.

His head jerks up, eyes flashing. "You don’t know who I am."

But you don’t let go.

You squeeze his hand—challenging. "Then tell me."

He doesn't say anything for a while and you feel frustrated.

And then, softer—barely a breath. "You don’t want to know."

The silence between you stretches, thick and heavy, coiling around your throat like a noose.

His hand is still in yours, bruised and warm, fingers twitching like he’s fighting the urge to pull away.

Or worse—hold on tighter.

You don’t let go. Neither does he. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe— maybe this isn’t something you have to fight. Maybe this doesn’t have to be another battle, another game of pushing and pulling until one of you finally lets go.

Maybe— but then his grip tightens, and his voice, when he finally speaks, is hoarse. "You should leave."

The words hit harder than any punch.

Your breath catches, but you don’t let it show. You force yourself to smile, to tilt your head like this is nothing, like you aren’t standing on the edge of something that could shatter you completely.

"So that’s it?" you murmur, fingers tracing absent patterns along his wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath your touch. "I almost die, you almost lose your mind, and now you’re just gonna pretend none of it happened?"

His jaw clenches, eyes flashing, but he doesn’t pull away. "It can’t happen."

You scoff. "Can’t, or won’t?"

He exhales sharply, the muscle in his jaw twitching again. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Make this something it isn’t."

Anger flickers hot in your chest, and this time, it’s you who tightens your grip. "And what exactly is this, Satoru?"

He doesn’t answer and that’s the worst part. Because you can take a fight. You can take sharp words and heated arguments, can take anger and fire and frustration.

But this? This silence? This refusal to even acknowledge what’s between you? This is what fucking hurts.

You shake your head, laughing bitterly as you finally drop his hand. "You know, for someone who always acts like he’s got all the answers, you really are a fucking coward."

Then you turn. And this time, you walk away first.

He lets you walk away, though he shouldn’t.

He knows he shouldn’t. But he does.

Because if he stops you—if he says anything else, if he gives in even an inch— he won’t be able to stop himself at all.

He won’t be able to stop himself from pulling you back, from letting himself want this, want you, from letting himself believe that there could ever be a world where this doesn't end in disaster.

So he lets you go. He stays in that goddamn bathroom, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, staring at his own reflection like it’ll give him an answer he doesn’t already fucking know.

Because he knows.

He knows that no matter how many times he tells himself to stay away, no matter how many times he buries it— it’s still there.

It’s been there for years. And now? Now it’s unraveling, slipping through his fingers like smoke, impossible to ignore, impossible to deny. Because the moment you walked away? He felt it.

The weight in his chest, the tightening in his throat, the overwhelming urge to chase after you, to take it back, to do something—

And fuck.

Fuck.

He slams his fist into the mirror before he can stop himself, glass shattering beneath his skin, pain blooming sharp and hot across his knuckles. He doesn’t even feel it. Because all he can think about—all he can fucking think about— is you. And that’s when he knows. This is it. This is the breaking point.

Because the second something happens—the second something puts you in danger again, the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way— he won’t be able to stop himself.

And this time? He won’t fucking try.

You shouldn’t care. You tell yourself you don’t.

You tell yourself it’s better this way.

You tell yourself you should be used to it by now—used to the push and pull, used to the way he always leaves first, used to the way you always let him.

But this time? This time, it feels different.

This time, it feels like something inside you has been cracked open, exposed, left bleeding in the space between you. This time, you were the one who walked away—and it still fucking hurts.

Because the truth is— you wanted him to stop you. You wanted him to prove you wrong. But he didn’t.

And that? That fucking stings.

You exhale, pressing your fingers to your temples, eyes fluttering shut as you try to push it down, try to shove it deep, deep, deep beneath the surface where it can’t touch you anymore.

But the second you open your eyes, the second you see your reflection in the grimy window of your apartment—

You know. You know this isn’t over, because no matter how hard you try to run from it— it always brings you back to him.

You were lost in your thoughts, more like consumed by them that you forgot. You're Catwoman. You're in the freaking city of Gotham. You should've known. It happens fast. Too fast.

One second, you’re walking down the empty streets of Gotham, the cool night air biting at your skin, the weight of earlier still sitting heavy in your chest—

And the next? You’re surrounded.

Shadows slip out from the alleys, footsteps closing in, voices murmuring in low, amused tones. "Look what we have here…"

"Thought you were untouchable, sweetheart?"

Shit.

You recognize them instantly—Falcone’s men. Which means this isn’t a random attack. This is a message, a warning. A consequence for getting too close to Gotham’s Bat.

You bite back a curse, hands twitching at your sides, muscles tensing as you count the men, assess the distance, calculate your odds.

Four—maybe five. Armed? Most likely. A fight you could win? …Not without consequences.

But what other choice do you have? Because you already know— no one is coming to save you. Not this time.

Satoru feels it before he hears it.

It’s instinct.

A sharp, sudden shift in his chest, a gut-wrenching pull like something inside him is being ripped apart. Then— the comm buzzes.

"We got a situation." Nanami’s voice is clipped, urgent. "Falcone’s men. Five of them. Near Harbor Street."

And before he can even think—before he can stop himself—he’s already moving. Because he knows.

He fucking knows.

You don’t go down easy. They think they’ve already won. They think this will be easy.

They think you’re just a pretty little thief, just a girl who got in too deep, just another lesson to be taught. And that’s their first mistake. Because you don’t go down easy.

You move before they do—a sharp kick, a twist, a knife pulled from your belt and pressed to the throat of the closest man before he can even blink.

"Try it," you hiss, voice laced with venom.

He hesitates, and in that second, you know—you have an opening.

But then— a gun cocks.

And a voice—low, amused, familiar—cuts through the night like a blade. "Tsk. Always making things difficult, aren’t you, kitten?"

Your blood runs cold because you know that voice.

Suguru Geto.

And that? That changes everything.

You’ve honestly been in worse situations. But not many.

Not ones that make your stomach twist quite like this, not ones that make your pulse hammer against your ribs in something too sharp, too visceral, too close to fear. Because this isn’t just anyone. This isn’t some low-level thug. This isn’t even some mob boss looking to put you in your place. This is Suguru Geto.

And he doesn’t waste his time on small threats. No, when he moves, when he speaks, when he smiles—it means something.

"You’ve been causing quite the stir lately," he muses, stepping closer, his hands tucked casually in his coat pockets. "Getting on the Bat’s good side, stepping on all the wrong toes—really, kitten, I expected better from you."

You force your grip to stay steady, the knife still pressed against the throat of the man you caught off guard.

"Flattered, really," you say, keeping your voice light, like your pulse isn’t hammering, like your fingers aren’t itching to grab your grapple and run. "Didn’t think I’d be important enough to warrant a visit from the great Suguru Geto himself."

He chuckles—low, smooth, condescending. "Oh, you’re important," he says. "Just not in the way you think."

Your jaw tightens. "Yeah? Then why are you here?"

He tilts his head, watching you like you’re a puzzle he’s already figured out. "Because," he hums, "you have something that belongs to me."

The USB.

Shit.

Your grip on the knife falters for half a second—half a second too long. Because before you can react, before you can process, before you can even think— The man you were holding twists, shoving you off, the cold barrel of a gun pressing against your ribs before you can recover.

And just like that— you’re out of options.

Satoru's close.

Close enough that he can hear the words, close enough that he can hear your fucking pulse spike.

And that? That’s what does it. Because it’s one thing to be reckless. It’s one thing to be stubborn, to push him away, to insist that you don’t need him, that you can handle yourself.

But this? This is different because Geto doesn’t make idle threats.

And the second Gojo hears the sharp intake of your breath, the second he hears the shift of movement, the second he realizes exactly what’s happening— he moves. Fast. Too fast for them to react.

Because one second, Geto is smirking, enjoying his little game— and the next? He’s eating pavement.

Satoru doesn't hold back. He could, he should. But he doesn’t.

Because the second he sees that gun against your ribs, the second he sees the way your shoulders tense, the way your eyes flicker with something you never let anyone see— it’s over.

The first punch sends Geto flying. The second cracks something, leaves him coughing up blood.

The third? That one’s personal.

Because Gojo has been patient. He’s let things slide, let lines blur, let the underworld think he’s just another player in the game. But this? This is different. This is you. And that? That changes everything.

You've seen his fight countless times, but not like this. Not like he’s tearing through them without a second thought, not like he’s this close to losing control, not like the only thing keeping him from going too far is the fact that you’re standing right there.

It should scare you.

It should make you rethink everything, should remind you why you’ve always kept your distance, why you’ve always told yourself you couldn’t afford to get caught up in whatever the hell is between you. But it doesn’t. Because all you can think, as you watch him break Geto’s men like they’re nothing— is that he came. That you didn’t even call for him, and he still fucking came.

And when it’s over, when the dust settles and Geto is left bloody and laughing on the pavement, when Gojo finally turns to you, breath ragged, knuckles split, eyes burning— you don’t run. You don’t even flinch.

Because you know what this means. What it’s always meant. And maybe—maybe this time, neither of you will walk away first.

You really think you should stop this. You should. You should shove him away, should tell him this doesn’t change anything, should remind yourself why this is a bad idea, why this has always been a bad idea.

But when his fingers curl around your wrist, when he tugs you closer, when his breath ghosts over your lips— you don’t move. You don’t speak. You don’t even breathe. Because this isn’t like before.

This isn’t a game, isn’t a moment either of you will walk away from, isn’t something that can be brushed aside when the night is over. This is the point of no return.

And when he finally, finally closes the distance— you let him.

Because maybe—just maybe—you were never meant to run from him in the first place. It was always going to be you, always.

From the moment you first slipped past his defenses, from the moment you first met his gaze across the rooftops of Gotham, from the moment you first left him standing there with nothing but your name on his tongue and your laughter ringing in his ears— it was always going to be you.

And now? Now, with you in his arms, with your fingers tangled in his hair, with your taste on his lips, he knows there’s no going back. He doesn’t want to.

Because if Gotham is his curse, if the mask is his burden, if the weight of this city is something he’ll never escape— then you? You're the only thing that’s ever made it worth it. And for once, just once—he’s taking what he wants.

You find yourself on the rooftop with him, where it all began.

The city glows beneath you. The skyline stretches out, endless and alive, neon lights flickering, sirens wailing in the distance, the hum of Gotham’s heartbeat steady and unyielding.

It’s always been like this. Always moving. Always demanding. Always taking. And you? You’ve always been running.

But tonight? Tonight, you stand still. Because Gojo is in front of you, mask off, white hair ruffled by the wind, the cut on his lip still fresh from the fight, his eyes— those damn blue eyes—locked onto yours like he’s trying to memorize you, like he already knows what’s coming.

"So this is it, huh?" he says, voice low, rough.

You swallow hard, forcing a smirk. "Come on, Bat. You knew it wouldn’t last."

His jaw clenches. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it."

You step closer, tilting your head. "You’ll live."

He exhales sharply, like he’s about to say something—something real, something that might make you stay— but you can’t let him.

So you reach up, fingers barely brushing his jaw, a ghost of a touch, a silent goodbye.

"Goodbye, Batman," you whisper, voice softer than you mean it to be. "Gotham needs you."

For a second, just a second—you think that’s it. That he’ll let you go. That he’ll watch you disappear into the night like you always do.

But then— his hand catches yours. Tightly. Desperately. And when he speaks, when his voice finally breaks— it nearly stops you in your tracks.

"Why don’t you stay, Cat?" he murmurs, raw, unguarded, everything. "I need you."

Your breath catches as your heart lurches. Because that—that’s the one thing you weren’t ready for. But you force a smirk, even as your chest aches.

"That’s your problem, Bat." You squeeze his hand once, just once—before slipping free. "You’re not supposed to." You pause and for once give him a big genuine smile. "See ya later batman."

And with that— you step back and you turn, as you disappear into the night, like you always do.

Because Gotham needs him. And maybe he was never meant to need you.

@do-morochaa @madamechrissy @katthekat1234 (hope y'all like it😭💗)

#jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #batman x reader #batman x catwoman #jjk x you #batman gojo #jjk angst #gojo angst

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starweaversguidetothehazbinhotel · 10 months ago

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I think of this meme often when I stumble across Hazbin shipping discourse and hate.

Say what you want about the Dr Who/Sherlock/Potter Heads era of tumblr. Was it cringe? Yes. Unbelievably so. But the art and community that came from it was amazing.

The way the HH fandom tears into each other over ships that aren’t “canon” is.. baffling to me.

Maybe I’m just too old to understand it. But it all feels so childish. Life is hard and has too many real problems. I don’t see the appeal in fighting over who imaginary characters do/do not sleep with.

I’ve seen this a lot with Alastor’s character specifically. Ace/Aro authors and artist create something based off of their own personal experiences- and get railroaded by other fans- simply because he’s portrayed in a way that doesn’t fit into their personal biases.

Hazbin fans- just because your favorite character is LGBTA doesn’t make you immune to bigoted behavior. Prejudice often disguises itself as public-interest.

Let people be fun. Let them be cringe. Let them make crack and terrible art. AUs, character studies, and crossovers can be the birthplace of amazing things.

I don’t really have a point with all of this. I just think it’s kinda sad how fans are ruining the show for themselves.

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impactrueno · 3 months ago

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🪲Beetlejuice as Mephistopheles😈

so you guys might've seen that my masquerade comic has BJ wearing this funny little get up after people were expecting me to draw him wearing the Phantom's Red Death costume.

just who is Mephistopheles?

our devilishly charismatic fiend friend Mephisto is the reason we use the term "Faustian bargain" to refer to a deal with the devil. in the legend, Faust was an alchemist who ended up selling his soul to Mephistopheles in order to gain knowledge, power and pleasure. he is, quite literally, a trickster demon full of wit and a taste for irony looking to get something out of you. sound familiar?

of course, deals with the devil didn't originate with Faust, and neither did the trope of the devil being a charming and witty character. Faust just popularized it and greatly influenced later characters following this trope. Hades from Hercules is a pretty solid example, since he takes after Satan more than he does the actual Hades from greek mythology (which is on purpose, since the movie plays with christian elements for comedic effect, like the muses singing gospel and Hercules being like a combination of Jesus Christ Superstar and Superman.)

every now and then i see people complain that Lydia referring to Beetlejuice as a "trickster demon" in BJBJ messes with the lore, because "he's supposed to be a ghost," but he has always been more demon than ghost if you ask me. "trickster demon" is a perfect descriptor for him: he has a specific summoning ritual, powers beyond what normal ghosts can do, and is always always trying to tempt people into chaos and tricking them into making a deal. i'll give you knowledge, but your soul is mine. i'll save your loved ones, but you'll have to marry me.

despite this Beetlejuice and Mephistopheles are both funny characters, hardly menacing. doing fun little magic tricks and mocking wordplay, even though they can (and will) ruin your life. yet at the same time, they're not quite as evil as they might appear at first. it's always funny noting how Beetlejuice in the movies technically stuck to his word the entire time. surprisingly high level of integrity for someone like him, but that's part of why he's so great imo.

the scene in the original movie where Beetlejuice shows up as a circus attraction to get rid of the yuppies that came to Winter River to gentrify the town into a tourist trap is just the kind of thing Mephistopheles would do. same with how he gets rid of Rory in BJBJ, playing the role of the therapist to someone who used psychobabble to manipulate Lydia. ironic twists mocking human sins, that's what Beetlejuice is all about when he's punishing somebody, and it can all be traced back to Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles is a proto-Beetlejuice, basically. or Beetlejuice is a modern Mephistopheles, however you want to look at it.

ok but why am i talking about this? well first of all, adhd. also this is one of my favorite character archetypes. i've always wanted to put my oc Rocky in a story where he's a Mephisto-type of figure. i used to think that the closest i got to that was when i crossovered him with Beetlejuice (you had to be there) but writing this post i...just remembered something. (feel free to skip the next paragraph, it has nothing to do with Beetlejuice lol)

i have this unfinished short story i started to write a while back, in mid 2018. i was miserable, going through a really bad depressive episode, and i was looking for something that could inspire me to create again and get back on my feet. just to practice and for shits and giggles i started writing a simple freeform story where a character named [redacted], who was a stand-in for myself, is suffering from writers block despite not being a writer, and basically wants to be good at writing. while muttering something about how he'd even "make a deal with the devil to become a good writer," he accidentally ends up summoning "the devil" (it's just Rocky) who's all silly and charismatic and offering him a deal. what i wrote ends there, i never finished it. but very soon after that, i rediscovered The Simpsons and started writing Those Springfield Kids. fast forward to a few years later, my SpringKids versions of the characters end up becoming part of an official couch gag animated by The Simpsons team. so. i guess...the deal worked? spooky lol (my Faustian downsides are 1. i can never finish anything i start and 2. i'm stuck here in Venezuela.)

anyway! i originally wrote this as a thread on twitter so i could introduce people to Mephistopheles since i was going to make a reference in the masquerade comic with BJ's costume. i just added a little bit more stuff (and the personal anecdote above) in this post. i would've posted this much earlier but on the day i was going to do it, my blog got nuked. now that i got it back, i can post this!

bonus: the shin megami tensei version of mephistopheles, plus david who is a reference to camille saint-saëns Danse Macabre, which i've ALSO referenced in my beetlejuice stuff a couple of times

ty for reading

next time i yap like this it'll be about the gravediggers from hamlet and how they're another core beetlejuice archetype. ESPECIALLY musical beetlejuice.

#beetleposting

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ao3-shenanigans · 5 months ago

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How do I search on ao3? Ive just been putting in the fandom I want and hitting go but I have to scroll through like dozens of pages before I find something in the theme/ vibe (? Word idk? I hope you know what i mean) I want

Hi! Great question! This will be a longer answer, so I’ll include a cut:

Ao3 uses a Tag Filtering system, wherein authors include tags on their work and readers can use the website to sort and filter through them to show what they may or may not want to read.

These are tags on a work:

But how do we get there? If we start with just a generic fandom search, we’ll find a button at the top of the page labeled “Filter”. This guy will be our best friend, click it.

By clicking “Filter” a sidebar pops up titled “Search and Filter” it has two main sections to it with several subheadings. These two sections: Include and Exclude achieve similar results but function slightly different.

By clicking on the drop downs under each, a list of common tags will pop up and you are presented with the option of Including or Excluding them from your search.

Include:

- by selecting a tag under Include, you are telling ao3 that you only want to see fics with that tag on it, every fic shown for this search will have that tag

- this is good for narrowing down a lot of fics very quickly, especially if you have something specific in mind

Exclude:

- by checking a tag under Exclude, no fan works with that tag will be shown in your search results

- this is good if you want to browse a larger selection of fics but want to avoid something you’re not fond of

Selected tags in the Warnings dropdown of the Exclude section look like this:

There is a third section of this sidebar called “More Options” which includes sidebars to set preferences for crossovers, fic completion status, word count, and date updated. It functions much the same as Include and Exclude.

Lastly, make sure to click the “Sort and Filter” button at the bottom of the sidebar so that your selections will be put into effect!

Additional note:

This “Sort and Filter” function can be used when looking at an overall fandom page, or a more specific page like one for a ship paring or an alternate universe!

Hoped this helped and happy fic hunting!

#ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 shenanigans ask #fanfic #fandom #ao3 shenanigans #ao3 tags #ao3 users guide #ao3 psa #how to use ao3 tags

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rozeliyawashereyall · 4 months ago

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Headcanons, headcanons and more headcanons but with drawings this time.

✵One common headcanon I always think of is that literally every character ever had fucked up trying to cut their hair by themselves, it's a fun pattern /lh

✵Fucking bet you Tethys used to bully Zef

✵ Timmy and Marco would love musicals actually

✵Explained it before- but in human form; I really feel like the merfolk in human form are still stronger and faster then the average human, Zef would be too but he's still getting used to the surface lmao ✵The fish bois most likely don't understand what hair dye is

"I'm dying my hair blonde tomorrow-"

"..you're killing your hair??"

✵Sera would either tolerate or HATEEEEE slasher movies omfg. Zef doesn't like the little mermaid movie solely because of that one mom dying scene.

✵I feel like Soheil wears reading glasses..it's just a vibe

✵do you think there's video games on the ship in the rebel series, cuz I feel like Naveed would DESTROY others at Mario kart He has daily competitions with Soheil, Torvin occasionally joins and destroys both of them at it

✵Nathan also seems like he rocks at video games, specifically the horror ones. Put him in Slenderman and he's getting out of there with all 7 papers within 20 minutes if not less

✵if Zef finds something shiny he'll immediately bring it to Sera, on some occasions he *purposefully* looks for shiny objects for him

✵He also has an ongoing mission to try and sneak up on Sera, but Sera always knows. Zef refuses to give up.

✵Guys you're really gonna need to hear me out on this one. Ray reads romance novels in his free time for fun. OH ESPECIALLY THE SAME WITH SKY- He wants to know what love feels like and what better way to learn than to read.

✵Ray had those little Beyblades back in middle school. Hell he probably STILL has them actually, just for the memories. Also it's a really cool trinket

✵Mercury has a subtle limp I feel ? From getting hurt all the time—well, not ALL the time, but enough times.

✵Zef has a VERY specific and picky music taste but the problem is you can barely figure it out because it changes like, every few days or so.

✵I feel like Konrad and Sky tend to dissociate a lot ? Just daydreaming and all

✵I'm going to need everyone to hear me out on both Zef and Sera liking photography. Clemmy shows them how to take photos on their phone and it’s all over—like HOW did you take 378 pictures in the span of an hour.

Then hits the realisation that humans live for like, a third of what merfolk live up to so Zef and Sera start hanging little photos of them and Clemmy they took in the cave where they'd meet up as a forever memory.

✵Not an HC and more of a theory- but hear me out, what are the chances Sky DOES turn back into a human somehow?? Smt smt the long line of dark magic that turned the elves into vampires clashes with the holy immunity and reverses him back....But also a negative and a positive make a negative—so instead of reversing him back it could either turn that ginger into god or kill him.

✵Zef thinks jumping out of the water to startle people is the funniest thing ever.

✵Zef, Nathan, Konrad, Sky, AND Ray stim. I rest my case.

✵If Timmy hears a new word, he has to repeat it at least three times.

✵actual crossover shit—Uno night would go CRAZY with all of them. For Ray's safety and sanity he doesn't join- "no I'm not playing Uno with a vampire, a zombie, an enhanced spy and a fucking mermaid. Get me OUT of here." And you know what I don't blame him—If someone said I have to play go fish with a werewolf I'd leave right then and there....Imagine playing go fish with merfolk though- I'd do it just for the jokes i fear.

✵Do not let any of these men anywhere near horror games actually, something is getting broken and it's probably the monitor.

✵ Timmy is the resident "baby" of this AU, and Ray is the extremely unwilling babysitter.

✵it's okay though he acquires Bodie as a father figure /hj

That's all yipppeee

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writing-mlm · 4 months ago

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hi !! saw you write for criminal minds and would love to see something with spencer reid !! there aren’t enough male reader fics for him out there. personally i’m a sucker for reader being used as bait for an unsub with spencer getting jealous and taking care of reader afterwards if they get hurt. but no worries if you don’t want to write that specific scenario, i would just love to see any spencer content at all lol. i love your writing and hope you’re having a great day !!!

The stress of a married man

Summary: Spencer doesn’t like the fact that his husband is out there; his husband doesn’t like the fact that Spencer’s worrying. Pairing: Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader wc: 2.4k Tags/warnings: reader used as bait, blood, attempted drugging, kidnapping a/n: while what im referring to won’t be a part 2, just now I wrote 2 separate fics for this request. i’ll try and push it out before next week and it’ll be around 20k words… and a marvel crossover…

Spencer didn’t want this. It’s stupid. It’s beyond stupid, it’s dangerous. He doesn’t care that there’s logic behind it— why should he? Not when you’re putting yourself in danger just to speed up a case, not when there are other solutions.

He twists the cap of the marker as he strains, trying to think of said solutions. None are coming to his head; none that are useful anyway. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek when his eyes dart over to you; sitting in a chair getting your appearance tweaked to fit the victim pool more. A fake mole under your eye, changing your eyebrows a little bit. You’re wearing clothes they’d found in a nearby Ross, stuff that he knows you’re itchy in because they haven’t been washed yet.

Your feet are pushed into shoes a size too small, he can tell because you’re sitting without putting pressure on them and they’re laced too loose. If you run with them they’ll go flying. Maybe that’s for the better, he quickly decides.

He doesn’t see the irony in his worry. The same Spencer who walked into a train and took off his bulletproof vest when the UnSub had a loaded gun? The same Spencer who made Hotch kick the snot out of him? Caught himself on fire and in the middle of an explosion? Stab himself and frame the other guy in prison— that Spencer Reid? Yes. Because he’s him and you’re you.

First name Spencer, middle name Risk himself for everyone else, last name Reid didn’t want you to hurt. He didn’t want you tossed in the back of some guy's van and hauled to wherever. He didn’t want you to experience the torture the other victims are going through firsthand. He just didn’t.

But you’re smiling with Tara, agreeing to let Luke slip a tracker into the thrifted bracelet you planned on keeping because it looked nice. You’re listening to Emily’s specific instructions carefully, you’re understanding the dangers that you’re about to face.

And dammit you’re still agreeing to go through with it.

“Be careful,” He’s almost pleading— no, he is pleading. He absolutely cannot keep himself composed like the others are. He can’t.

“I’ll be alive,” You tell him, messing with the clunky jacket that fits the same way a child wearing their dad's jacket fits. Lightly, you punch his shoulder. “Don’t go worrying about me; this is my specialty, Walter.” He nods, tucking his hair behind his ear because yes, it is. You had transferred from the Hostage Rescue Team after getting your degree.

He doesn’t even care that you’re using his middle name. He doesn’t catch it, in fact. He just caught that you said you’d be alive when he asked you to be careful.

“Just…” He closes his eyes, opening them when he pictures the worst. You’re staring at him from behind a paper cup of water, eyebrows raised because you’ve never seen him so worked up. So nervous before; it’s stressing you out.

“I’ll come back, man. Don’t sweat it, please. You’re making me nervous,” Shit, he blinks an apology and wrings his hands. He doesn’t want to throw you off your game any more than he already has and backs off.

You watch as he walks away, heading back to his drawing board. He messes with the marker cap again, this time chewing on it. It’s a set he’d gotten that day, only used by him, so he’s not worried about germs or anything of the sort. Meanwhile, you move over to JJ to go over the plan seeing as she’s going to be the bartender.

The plan is simple. You’re going to hang out at a local bar, the one flying the highest American flag and that has some stupidly adorable couple trivia night going on but you aren’t going to play. You’re going to sit at the bar, rolling your eyes when someone gets an answer wrong because it was so obvious even a moron could get it right. You’re going to nurse a stein of sparkling apple juice dyed to look like beer. And you’re going to get the attention of the man killing people.

Currently, you’re still on the eye-rolling part. The questions are hard, you have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about but you can hear Spencer through your earpiece saying the answers without catching himself.

A guy approaches you as you’re taking another sip of your drink. A white man, probably in his fifties to sixties, dressed as if he was a professor, and on the shorter side. So far, this is the guy. You smile as he takes the newly vacant seat next to you, his eyes immediately traveling to the jacket around your chair.

“Can you believe they don’t know the fifty-six element?” He huffs after no one has gotten the answer right and the announcer presses the loud buzzer.

“Barium,” Spencer immediately tells you.

“I know,” You scoff. “Who doesn’t know what barium is?” The man looks delighted by your answer and orders a beer. He doesn’t care what brand, just says beer and drums his fingers on the wood until JJ brings him one. He thanks her without any condensation, no sweetheart, or even a lingering look. He says a simple thank you, miss. And hands JJ a crisp ten-dollar bill.

“The youth these days,” He shakes his head as half of the trivia goers don’t get the answer to who made the laws of motion right. “They’re spending too much time learning nonessential things like provocative dancing and texting abbreviations.”

“You’re so right, sir,” You sigh. “I’m glad my grandparents raised me better.”

“Oh, please,” He laughs, holding his chest. “Call me Vince. I’m sorry for forgetting my manners.”

“It’s quite fine,” You smile. “I’m Kyle.”

“Well, Kyle,” He smiles back. This is the part where he’ll have you look away and he’ll slip something into your drink. You’ll look back and he’ll cheer for something. It’ll be strong based on the videos, you’ll be stumbling within three minutes. But even before that, he’ll talk you into leaving the bar so no one can notice. “Whaddya say about a game of pool?” He points to the pool table behind you.

You look, spotting Luke and Emily pretending to pay attention to a group of frat guys playing a game. Spencer tells you that he’s slipped the pill inside and you turn back to Vince.

“It seems crowded,” You shake your head.

“Well, cheers to two smart guys left in a modern age of idiots?” He holds up his beer and you laugh, nodding with your bottle. The drinks and you pretend to drink it. You feel it on your upper lip, it’s fizzy and you swallow your spit to make it seem real. He watches until you set it down and runs his fingers over your ear.

“How about some fresh air?” Pretending to be bashful, you get up and follow him out. He’s not aware that Luke and Emily follow, too.

Spencer watches from the van's cameras as you walk out of the bar. Vince has his hand on your waist and he’s talking about things so well it’s almost convincing. But he’s saying surface-level facts as if he’s only read the summary but not the full text. He doesn’t like how Vince speaks into your neck and how his eyes seem to gleam when you start to pretend to stumble.

You prepare yourself as you hear the red car. Because once you do, he charges you into the side and it’s enough to send someone who’d been drugged to the ground. So, you lay next to the car, pretending to fall in and out as he opens the trunk. You hear the duck tape being pulled and he steps back into your view.

“All you youth are still driven by lust,” He says, holding your face and then applies enough to cover your mouth. He puts you on your stomach and your arms strain as he ties your hands behind you. Honestly, you’re glad he’s counting you as a youth. You know the youth surely doesn’t because boy, you’ve stopped getting carded at bars years ago. Your ankles are the next things he tapes before you’re tossed into the trunk.

Your head hits a pipe and you groan as he slams the door closed. Rolling onto your side, you feel the car start and work on finding the knife in your pocket. The blade flicks up— it had been pinned to your pants just for this— and you work on cutting your way out. He hadn’t done a lot of layers, just three so you’re out of it quick enough.

His car stops, at a red light, because the car is still buzzing and he’s still listening to music that hasn’t been on the radio since there was a transatlantic accent. You take the time to rub your forehead before the car lurches forward. Working on the ankle tape, you hear the line between you and the others cut. You’ve officially entered the dead zone. They’ll track you using the bracelet from here on out.

—

It’s nearly an hour before the car stops. It’s been twenty since Spencer joined Luke in the SUV. Being trailed by local PD and two ambulances with their lights off, he messes with the FBI windbreaker jacket folded on his lap. It’s yours, it’s tailored to your arms and the collar is worn from where you continued to flip it up and down. You’ll probably want it, it’s chilly out and only getting colder.

He hopes you’re only cold because of the weather.

“It’s up ahead,” Luke warns before he parks the car. They can’t risk the UnSub hearing the cars so they’ll have to walk the rest of the way. He nods, fixing his gun as they climb out. The others are close behind and separate. JJ and Rossi go left, Emily and Tara go right, while he and Luke go straight.

The driveway, if you could call it that, to the barn, is nothing more than grass that’s been driven over so many times it doesn’t grow straight anymore. They’re sickly shades of green compared to the bright green elsewhere. He looks up, seeing the car you’d gotten tossed into, and adjusts his grip on his gun. His heart hammers, pleading that you’re okay.

A barn comes into view, the lights are on and Spencer shudders. There’s the smell of pigs nearby that makes his stomach twist before he changes his focus. The doors are ajar— some blood is on the handle. He doesn’t touch it, but it’s wet. He sees the light reflecting on it. Luke gives him a look, holds up three fingers and Spencer nods.

He gets to two before the door gets thrown open.

They jump back but it’s only you. You’re standing tall, one hand on the doorframe and the other gripping your pocket knife. His shoulders sag at the sight of you alive and able to stand before he looks at your face.

“You’re bleeding,” Spencer immediately has you in his grip, wiping the blood from your nose and lip with his shirt. It’s a lot, but considering it’s a nosebleed that’s to be expected.

“Got dropped on my face,” You explain through a wince. “The others are in the barn— they need medical. I patched their wounds as best I could with whatever was lying around,” Luke nods and radios for the ambulance to make their way up.

“And Vince?” Luke looks inside the barn and whistles. “Shouldn’t have been worried, then.” He knocks your shoulder with his fist and you wink.

“Yeah, he really wasn’t strong. He dropped me twice, once on my face and then on my back. I think my head hit a rock—“ Again, Spencer’s hands are on you as he checks the back of your head. Luke chuckles and you roll your eyes, messing with your wedding band tattoo. “I kicked the shit out of his face and then hogtied him.” You wait for a beat before looking over at Spencer. “No hogtie facts?”

“You have a shallow cut on your head, it’ll leave a small scar.” He says instead and opens up the jacket. “You should sit, we can deal with the others.” He drapes it over you and you smile, rubbing his matching tattoo.

“Okay,” He smiles and watches as you walk to sit on a log before heading inside with Luke. He looks at the man still tied up and then looks at the knife in his hand before walking closer. The man is wriggling and trying to speak, both of which he makes a point to ignore.

He saws at the tape before it lets go and quickly handcuffs Vince, ripping the tape off his mouth as hard and fast as he could manage with his shaking hands. Vince starts speaking but Spencer simply lugs him up from the ground in one fluid motion.

“Shut up.” He walks Vince out and tosses him over to the local PD before he finds you again. You’re helping the lady of the victims into the ambulance, setting the thick wool blanket over his shoulders.

“I told you to sit down,” He sighs and you spin around, hands up to show you weren’t doing anything. “Baby, you’re injured, please.” He grabs your hands and kisses your neck, hoping it’ll sway you.

“EMT said it's surface level and just a little bleed, nothing to fuss about.” He ignores the first part as he steals a kit from the ambulance, checking the inside to make sure he has what he needs.

“I’m fussing,” He beckons you over with two fingers and you huff, following him to the SUV where he sets you in the passenger seat. You watch, head on the seat as he carefully puts the items on the dashboard and cleans his hand with wipes.

“It’s cute that you’re worried,” You smile, eyes flickering between him putting on a pair of gloves and his face. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so reckless during cases.” Leaning over, you kiss his cheek but he moves back in for a kiss on the lips.

“I don’t know about that,” He smiles and gently holds your chin. “Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?” You roll your eyes but he doesn’t move so you sigh.

“Yes, doctor,”

#x male reader #x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler

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soundwavesconjunx · 4 months ago

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🎭 His Dear Witch ~ 🎭

It's unknown why do you even exist. The SCP Foundation doesn't know what to do with you. You're a confusing paradox that they do not understand and most frustratingly—uncontainable in a conventional sense.

#TAGS: Nothing Time Twins related, SCP Fandom is slowly drawing me back, It includes SCP! Reader, The Herta! Reader, Honkai Star Rail x SCP Crossover, Potentially OOC, Reader x Canon, Witch Reader, Short Writing, The Herta! Reader x SCP Character, More stuff like this would be included if interested, SCP FANS ARISE. 🔥🔥🔥

— TW?: Possesive Themes, Be Warned, 035 Being 035 As Usual, Potential Yandere Themes, He Calls You His 'Wife'.

A/N: After hitting maxed pity on Herta's banner along with her LC, I decided to make an interesting crossover because I thought it would be interesting to see how this goes for The Herta! Reader Insert. (Huge bonus that I'm blessed with good stats while I'm building her. 🙏)

You’re the definition of an enigma. A literal spacefaring, unknown anomaly wrapped up in an elegantly appearance, self-aware, and untouchable persona. The Foundation doesn’t know what to do with you, and SCP-035? He’s utterly entranced.

And Who Exactly Are You in the SCP Foundation?

You are Anomaly [REDACTED], a Level 6: CTS entity classified under Euclid. They don’t fully understand what you are—just that you exist, that you have an unsettling level of influence, and that you are playing the longest of long games.

You don’t act out. You don’t cause destruction. You don’t try to escape. Instead, you watch. You let them wonder why you haven’t done anything drastic, knowing full well that the moment you choose to tip the scales, everything changes.

They don’t imprison you because they can’t. They simply keep you in containment because you allow them to.

And then there’s SCP-035.

SCP-035 has never met someone like you before.

He’s charming, cunning, and manipulative—but none of it works on you. Not because you’re immune to him, but because you let him think he’s in control before flipping the script entirely.

You’re his perfect counterpart. The ultimate tease, the unattainable yet tangible anomaly that keeps him guessing.

At first, he tries to toy with you, flirt with you, unnerve you. And then, he realizes.

Oh.

You’re not like the others.

You understand him. You see through every little act, every trick, every calculated play. But instead of rejecting him or trying to outmaneuver him, you do something infinitely worse.

You indulge him.

You let him speak his flowery words, you humor his charm—but it’s clear who the real player is in this game. He’s used to being in control, but you? You make it so easy for him to fall under your spell instead.

And it drives him insane.

The Foundation is uneasy. Not because you’re violent, but because they cannot predict what you’re doing.

Why do you allow SCP-035 to get so close?

Why does SCP-035, a master manipulator, seem to worship you?

What is your endgame?

They want to separate you two, but the problem? 035 actually behaves when you’re around.

If anything, he’s less volatile, less inclined to escape, more… cooperative. But only because he knows that if he behaves, he gets you.

035: (mocking, but with an underlying threat) “Oh? You want to take my darling away? My wife?” (chuckles darkly) “Now, now, let’s not be hasty. You wouldn’t want to see me upset, would you?”

The researchers watching? Having war flashbacks.

The Real Question is...Why You Haven’t Given Him a Permanent Host (Yet)?

Because you’re playing the long game.

You could give him a permanent body. A perfect, indestructible vessel crafted specifically for him. A host that would never rot, never decay, never fail him.

And he knows you can.

That’s why he adores you. That’s why he’s obsessed.

But you? You wait.

You let him yearn. Let him crave it. Let him wonder if today is the day you’ll finally grant him that final gift.

035: (grinning, tilting his host’s head at you) “Tell me, dearest… when will you finally stop teasing me?”

You: (smirking, brushing a hand over his mask, whispering) “Would you love me the same if I gave you everything at once?”

035: … (soft chuckle) “Ah. I see. You do know me too well, don’t you?”

And the Foundation? Losing their minds. Because whatever the hell this is? It’s not normal.

They don’t know if it’s love, obsession, or something far worse.

But they do know one thing:

SCP-035 is yours.

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anthurak · 1 year ago

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Something I was always a little concerned about in the lead-up to Hazbin Hotel was that Charlie was going to be a bit too passive of a character, ie; leaning only into the ‘kind, optimistic Disney-Princess-in-Hell who just wants to help everyone’ vibe and not really have much else going on as a character. Which in turn would make her feel kind of bland next to the big, over-the-top or dramatic personalities like Angel Dust and Alastor.

But thankfully, that is not what happened and there’s actually a lot that I like about what the writers are doing with Charlie, particularly in the potential future development and reveals they seem to be setting up.

First off, I like how Charlie generally comes off more like an over-the-top caricature of that ‘Disney-Princess-in-Hell’ vibe, ie; SUPER energized, enthusiastic, affectionate and emotional, often to overbearing degrees that get on everyone’s nerves. It’s generally funny, or at least amusing, and lets Charlie stand out alongside the other big personalities in the cast. Funny enough, she’s actually a lot like Blitzo in this regard, minus the seesawing into extreme abrasiveness.

And more importantly, we’ve already gotten major hints all but confirming that this over-the-top personality is largely a façade, and that Charlie actually has some very clear issues and baggage that she’s working VERY hard to keep buried beneath the surface. Again, much like Blitzo.

Like how in the trust-fall exercise in episode three, despite asking everyone to reveal something personal, Charlie actually bullshits just as hard as Angel Dust and Sir Pentious with her whole ‘I love you all!’ bit. Sure, it’s not like she was lying or being insincere, but it’s clear that was NOT something truly personal for Charlie. And in episode 4 we have Husk straight-up calls out Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’.

Then of course we have the brief glimpses we’ve seen of Charlie getting angry. Both the times we’ve seen Charlie dealing with some truly despicable and horrendous characters, we’ve seen that rather than lacking the ability to get angry, Charlie is often working to hold herself back. In both her encounters with Adam and Valentino we see points where Charlie is clearly NOT intimidated or afraid of them at all and seems fully prepared to throw down, only being stopped by reigning herself in or by someone else (in this case Angel) stopping her.

Again, it all paints Charlie’s big, bubbly, hyperactive exuberance as something of a front, a way for her to bury a lot of thoughts, feelings and general baggage she doesn’t want to face. Just like what the show has already explored with Angel and Husk.

It actually raises some interesting questions as to what’s REALLY driving Charlie in running the hotel and trying to help Sinners. For one, Husk has already pegged Charlie as ‘wanting to solve everyone’s problems but her own’. And going back to thematic crossover with Helluva Boss, I can’t help but see some potential parallels between Charlie creating the Hazbin Hotel, and Blitzo creating Immediate Murder Professionals.

I think it’s pretty clear at this point that half the reason for creating I.M.P. was as a coping mechanism for Blitzo, or rather the assassination business in general. Something that we’ve gotten hints to as early as the second episode in Blitzo’s back and forth with the Robo-Fizz (“Does anyone love you, Blitzo?”/“No. But I’m really good with guns now!”). With the other half of the reason Blitzo created I.M.P. clearly seems to be to create a surrogate family, as seen with how much he tries to insert himself in the M&M’s lives. Possibly even a specific attempt to replace the family he unwittingly destroyed fifteen years ago.

So I really have to wonder if we’re going to find out that Charlie creating the hotel and her goal of redeeming sinners is in part likewise a coping mechanism and escape for her own baggage.

It’s actually really interesting how episode two first introduced the idea of people opening up with Sir Pentious, then episode four dived further into the concept of the walls and fake personas people put up to hide from their pain and trauma with Angel Dust and Husk. With those two opening up and starting to let their walls down to each other, and by extension we the audience, I think it makes Charlie’s own façade all the more noticeable. It’ll be pretty interesting if Charlie actually winds up being the toughest nut to crack when it comes to opening up about their real issues and baggage. Yet another interesting trait she shares with Blitzo.

All in all, I’m really liking what the show has been doing with Charlie as a protagonist. And I’m REALLY interested to see where the story is going to take her.

Particularly what’s going to happen when she reaches a breaking point…

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin analysis #hazbin theory #charlie morningstar #helluva blitzo #character parallels #character analysis #charlie has a LOT more going on than she's showing #blitzo hitting his breaking point had him crying himself to sleep into a pillow #what if charlie hitting HER breaking point has her raining LITERAL ARMAGEDDON down on some poor bastards?

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oh-no-its-bird · 7 months ago

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Staring into the void thinking about my unloved little guy favorites and feeling the thoughts mix with my adoration for stupid niche crossovers. I want a svsss x Naruto crossover but instead of anyone especially notable from svsss who crosses over it's my favorite "really not as bad as he could be" award winner, Ming Fan

Squinting back at naruto and flipping a coin to decide if he lands in warring states era or modern konoha and deciding I like both of these options, so we're going to do 2 separate stories/timelines. Or maybe we'll have him land in the past then get flashed forward to future Konoha when he tries going home so he gets the best of both worlds, who knows— I'll decide when I get there.

With that said, buckle in baby because it's time for:

✨️ Ming Fans very unfortunate fall into the mess that is naruto canon ✨️

Ming Fan gets flung into another dimension due the ultimate possible sin in svsss: being a background character.

Some obligatory crazy adventure was happening to Luo Binghe and SQQ involving some magic artifact, and in your stereotypical "someone not too important to the plot touches the object and gets exploded, proving it's dangerous to touch + upsetting SQQ so LB can appropriately comfort him" (probably originally a wife plot) scene, Ming Fan gets zapped into naruto canon. Woops!

If it helps him feel any better, SQQ really is upset by this. Binghe is not. At all. He might think it's karma but also this guy doesn't know the first fucking thing about appropriate levels of karma so maybe he should keep his mouth shut.

(Neither of these facts make him feel better but do you know what does? Imagining SQQ yelling at Binghe for this. He's so fucking sure it's that guy's fault somehow. It's always his fault somehow.)

So boom, he gets zapped into the worst possible (and my personal favorite moment for inconvenient time travel) moments; The final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju.

Specifically, he gets zapped directly onto Tobirama's sword. Queue shocked Pikachu faces from everyone— including Ming Fan but with added dramatic blood and cursing in chinese. Bc hey!! They don't speak the same fucking language actually!!

Unfortunate.

So Tbrm and Izuna both jump back away from this unknown as Ming Fan continues to bleed and curse and be very fucking confused as to where he was.

He took the hit in the shoulder of his non dominant arm, it's a pretty clean cut and he's a cultivator so he'll be fine with some rest but MAN if it don't hurt like a bitch. On top of the motion sickness of being launched through time and space too, and wrapped up in a little bow of "surrounded by hostile looking strangers all yelling in a language I don't understand"

Yeah he's not having the greatest time right now.

So like, Ming Fan just sort of appeared out of nowhere, right? Which has Tobirama extra fucked up bc, yk, hiraishin.

Izuna doesn't know that he was just saved from death death, so he's appropriately grateful at avoiding being stabbed but also like. Who the fuck are you. How did you get here. You just interrupted my battle with my rival and I take a little offense to that actually.

Everyone is yelling and confused and Ming Fan is seriously debating hopping on his sword and flying off because fuck this.

Madara and Hashirama finally enter stage left and are both like "well he's not one of ours" so now everyone is eyeing him even more suspiciously and a couple people are for sure lowkey tensing to attack

Enter convenient svsss mcguffin! Because "idk it sounds like something SQQ would know how to do," Ming Fan knows some language technique that allows him to speak/understand a language for a certain amount of time.

So he grabs his sword and circulates his qi to prepare the technique, and everyone tenses up because hey what are you doing over there buddy

Tobirama, a really good sensor, can actually sense the differences between Ming Fan's qi circulating through his dantian vs how shinobi would circulate chakra through their chakra coils. So he's holding a hand up like 'wait let him cook' @ the Senju who tensed up for a possible attack, if only because he wants to see where this goes and is confident that if he tried anything fr, well, he's kind of surrounded on all sides rn by two entirely different factions

The Uchiha meanwhile don't want to be the first to strike, so everyone's just kinda cautiously gripping their weapons in this very odd battlefield stall

And boom: now he can speak their language.

I'd say the first thing he does is grab Tobirama and shake him while cussing him out about watching where he's swinging that sword of is but he's smarter than that. (For sure it's what he wants to do tho. He is picturing it. Oh man is he picturing it.)

So like, actual communication for now

Now. PIDW is fucking filled with all sorts of mcguffins, "I touched something I shouldnt have and when I opened my eyes I was somewhere strange" is alarmingly common, and the sect absoloutley has some sort of "teleportation checklist" to run through whenever your random, unfortunate disciple gets fucking zapped.

(I like to hc that Shang Quinghua had some sort of hand in making an "official" checklist taught across the peaks, and that different peaks treat this checklist with uhh,, different amounts of respect. (LQG thinks its useless but has simultaneously run the tally for peak lord whose gotten stranded by artifacts he shouldn't have touched the most. These two facts may be directly correlated.))

Anyways; Ming Fan gets to doing that checklist. He's demanding to know where he is, when he doesn't recognize the name, how close he is to the sea, what year and time of the year it is, where the nearest sect is, etc.

At first this is directed at Izuna and Tobirama both, but when Izuna fails to answer as directly as Tobirama does (with quick, flat answers) and also tries to return the questions ("who are you, how did you get here, etc.") he directs his attention soley to Tobirama. Even though hes a little BITCH and stabbed him

(Ming Fan can recognize he teleported directly onto his blade but this will not change him being butt hurt ab it)

For everyone watching, this is weird as all hell! Who is this guy? Why these questions? Ew why is he deferring to the Senju, our Izuna-sama would be so much better to ask—

Now, quick side note, the thing about Ming Fan is he's just like a dude. He's just a guy. But also he's really not, but also he really is? If that makes sense?

He's the senior most disciple and (correct me if I'm wrong here bc its been a while) SQQ's head disciple, which means he'll be the next peak lord in however many years when SQQ and his generation chooses to ascend. So he's definatley not a slacker when it comes to power or wit. Even if he does rank pretty low in the overall SVSSS canon, but also like, yeah, background character vs actual heavenly demons n shit.

So he's definitely a pretty impressive guy!! But also he's just a guy. And he's in contact with the power houses and freaks that is SVSSS main cast (*cough* Luo Bingghe *cough*) So his sense of self and where be ranks power wise is probably skewed to a degree. (Though I imagine that when left to his own devices and not having to defer to his shizun, he definitely suffers from "haughty bitch disease" (tragically not fatal, for now at least)

Thus; cultivator version of just a dude. I love him!!

(arguably the only better option for the "svsss just a dude award" would be Gongyi Xiao, who I also love dearly but he's not here right now, so, winner by default Ming Fan!!! (Story of his fucking life tbh))

Anyways, back to plot:

So, thinking that Ming Fan immediatley recognizes Tobirama's hiraishin design bc it was actually enscribed on whatever artifect got him sent here. Wwoahhh mystery or something idk but theres that

(Was Airplane thinking about naruto when he created this specific object? Did he maybe google "sealing design ideas" then copy paste the hiraishin directly into his work, knowing no one but him would know what he had done since there was no artwork to go with it? Maybe. Perhaps. Just possibly.)

I honestly dont really know where itd go from that, but like Ming Fan probably sticks around specifically to harass Tobirama in the hopes he can send him home.

He points at the Hiraishin and goes "Your talisman brought me here. Take responsibility."

Tobirama understands this as his activation of the Hiraishin in battle literally summoned Ming Fan (only half true) and the poor mans presence here is thus entirely his fault. (Ehhhhh not really)

Ming Fan will not correct this assumption.

Either way though, Tobirama would not give up the chance / excuse to interact with and help return an interdimensional traveler. Can you say science experiment?? Because Tobirama sure fucking can!

Tobirama ends up having a fucking field day trying to find ways to replicate Ming Fan's different techniques with chakra instead of qi, and just in general studying how the energy in their bodies flows and works so differently yet so similarly

Anyways !

Through convoluted reasons peace happens somehow

Ming Fan calls Izuna a dumb bitch to his face maybe, idk that sounds like smthn hed do. But also like more politely bc they have different ways of speaking and SQQ probably gets on his ass about 'if you're going to insult someone do it in a way that reflects well on your own and the peaks teachings'

Actually I love that and now I need Ming Fan and Izuna cat fights

Actually I need Ming Fan and everyone cat fights, Izuna just gets the worse of it bc in my heart he is diva coded in a similar way to Ming Fan

Tobirama also bites back but hes too interested in the opportunity to study Ming Fan to risk being proper rude like he usually would to like, pretty much anyone else.

"Did this guy call me and my entire clan useless warmongers with the collective IQ of a tree stump? Yes. Do I want to cut him open to see if his organs match my own? Also yes. And my chances of getting to do this are very slightly raised by at minimum not pointing out that he has the attitude of if chihuahua got fucked by the worlds angriest hairless cat and spat out a human shaped baby."

Madara is NOT safe from the Ming Fan bitchfest but hes too busy happily drinking with Hashirama at the prospect of peace to give him his full attention, so he lets Izuna handle the cat fights

Hashirama meanwhile thinks hes kind of a tool but is also too busy happily drinking with Madara to really care, and is also the sort of guy to think that bitchy people are funny (as long as he isnt the one who has to deal with the consequences they bring) so honestly? Hes also having fun watching him and Izuna fight

Ummm stuff happens, peace is achieved, Konoha is developed and Ming Fan is in the thick of it bc he still needs Tobirama to send him home. He's kind of just,, there. Hanging out. Doesnt really have anything to do here, isnt particularly invested in this city building shit. As head disciple he has experience with things like management and the like, but nothing on this scale. He is however familiar with the concept of government-esq bodies overseeing superpowered people in societies equivalent to something close to a village. So that might come in handy, idk

But yeah, Ming Fan is just kind of hanging around, maybe he's brought in as a fresh pair of eyes / consultant

When it comes time to elect a Hokage, it's Madara vs Hashirama, with both of their younger brothers obviously backing their elder brothers.

Ming Fan, who has taken many, many missions across many different villages, countries, kingdoms and more, has seen this fucking story go down a million different ways. Better yet, he's seen this story go down a million different ways, often with SQQ hanging over his shoulder providing live commentary and a fucking insiders POV on the mechanics of this

The thing about Madara is that he is clearly respected by his clan, and feared by others. But he's not really,,, approachable.

Meanwhile Hashirama is the same, but he is approachable

And Izuna? Well, he has a real charm to him that his brother lacks. A charm that could realistically stand pretty well against Hashirama's own charm. He's popular, genuinley, among his own clan and surprisingly among some Senju as well. Whereas Madara was 'the force to be reckoned with' Izuna occupied a sort of middling space, always standing against Tobirama. Plus, hes easy on the eyes and can rock a pretty effective 'open and friendly smile.'

Not to mention he was the Uchiha's spy master, probably would go on to be Konoha's in the future, so he's a pro at managing people

Between Madara and Izuna, if you want an Uchiha to run for Hokage and win... wasn't Izuna clearly the better option?

Ming Fan brings this up to Izuna one day and he's actually kind of blindsided by this. The idea straight up never occurred to him, too used to being in the position to back his brother and raise him up to ever consider wanting the position Madara desired for himself.

He considers it for all of 3 seconds, a noticeable hesitation, before he laughs and shakes his head, saying that he would never steal his big brothers dreams like that. If he has the skills to win the Hokage position, he'd just use them to make sure Madara does instead

(Madara, overhearing their conversation from the hallway, retreats silently to think.)

A week later, and right before the intentions of Madara and Hashirama are announced to officially begin running for Hokage are announced, and a switch is made. A strangely quiet Madara switches out with Izuna at the last minute, a surprise to literally everyone but Ming Fan, who huffs approvingly

(This... has been his dream for so long. The village, his clan, safe and at peace. To be able to lead that would be... everything. But if his own baby brother would be more likely to be choosen for that over himself... At the very least, Madara wants to see an Uchiha with the hat.)

It's worth mentioning also that at this point, Ming Fan has a decent amount of influence on his own. Like, obviously, he's hanging out with the clan heads and heirs, he isnt contributing too much to the village, but he is contributing. He's pulling his weight, and he often spends time just kinda wandering around, talking to people, learning about this different world and the things it has to offer— different food, clothing styles, stories, the culture, just all of it

And that on its own is enough to endear him to plenty of people. Plus, as Konoha grows and more clans join in, he remains at its center sort of by default of having landed in that position from the start.

I think he's especially popular with more common people, bc he'll often be wandering around, just kinda exploring and all that, and if you complain to him theres a chance he might take that complaint all the way to the top, and your complaint (if its serious enough) might actually be dealt with. And as Konoha grows and more and more people clutter the information train, that's really fucking valuable!

All of that is to say that when Ming Fan makes a mostly careless comment in public about thinking Izuna would make a better Hokage, well, it's an endorsement from a well respected person. Who knows if it truly impacts the outcome, and god knows Ming Fan isn't like, actively campaigning for either of them—he probably doesn't care too much on who wins, finds them both agreeable enough as leaders (they both annoy him in different ways but at least with Izuna he's clearly grown begrudgingly fond of the back and forth they have)

So! It's an incredibly close race, but in the end Izuna wins, becoming the first Hokage

(His dramatic ass is absolutely on board with Hashirama's idea for a carved face in the mountainside, even as Tobirama, Madara and Ming Fan both physically cringe at the idea)

Ming Fan ends up being stuck there for a couple year, which is... annoying, but he's an immortal cultivator and has had much longer missions, so overall he's mild about his displeasure. Clear progress is being made by Tobirama, who is open about each new discovery he makes between Ming Fan and a normal mortal of this world

("To discover what made the hiraishin bring you here from another world entirely, we must first map out exactly what makes you and me so biologically different that the seal would react so strongly")

Anyways, Tobirama finally figures out how to fuck with the hiraishin enough to send Ming Fan back !! Yay, the day is saved and everyone is different levels of sorry to see him go, ranging from mildly fond to 'oh thank fucking gone, LEAVEEE ALREADYYYY' from the many, many people he's probably annoyed while here

Izuna and Ming Fan say goodbye and "Ill almost miss fighting with your bitch ass" in the weird language of insults they've developed, which to others just sounds like "dont go missing me too much, even tho youll never find someone else on my level to talk with again 💅"

Izuna gets one last jab in as Ming Fan is teleporting away but literally right as he's dissapearing Ming Fan gets one back in, making him officially holder of 'Got The Last Word' and this will piss off Izuna for the rest of all time

And so Ming Fan is safely returned hom— OH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHERE IS HE NOW?? GODDAMIT TOBIRAMA

Yeah, so, Ming Fan is instead zapped some decades into the future, into Kakashi's genin days

I mean, congrats to Tobirama, he just invented time travel, so, thats cool

Ming Fan doesnt actually give a shit though because this is not what he was promised, Tobirama you useless hack—!

He was sent back from the battlefield where he appeared, something about eliminating the chances of the specific location being involved in the act of breaking through universes, and reappeared in that same place.

He pretty quickly makes his way over to Konoha via flying sword, easily dodging the many patrols in the area who are at pretty much full swing due to the fact that we're nearing the start of the second shinobi war.

(Sakumo has not yet been assigned that doomed mission of his but will be any day now)

Ok so. POV you're one of the guys guarding the gates of Konoha.

And out of seemingly nowhere this fucking GUY. Just. DESCENDS FROM THE SKY FROM THE BACK OF A SWORD. Immediately starts angrily yelling at you about demanding to know where Senju Tobirama, the fucking nidaime who died years ago, currently is. And that he needs to get his bitchy little quack doctor ass out here RIGHT FUCKING NOW and do what he GODDAMN PROMISED

As Im sure you can imagine, the gate guards. Do not react too well to this.

I think Ming Fan received a konoha headband, and he usually doesnt wear it unless he's like, going into battle and needs to be able to be identified by his allies. And he wasnt wearing it when he was ready to hop on home, so he takes it out now and kinda shoves it in their face like THERE LOOK IM ONE OF YOU NOW WHERE IS TOBIRAMA.

They might have tried to arrest him but he was rocking with that "do you know who I fucking am, let me speak to your manager RIGHT NOW. Who is your hokage is Izuna still in charge I will ask him to light your ass on fucking fire if you dont bring me to him 5 goddamn minutes ago" swag and, like, he was just so confident about it the gate guards didnt?? really know what to do?? HE SEEMS TO KNOW WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT GUYS AND THATS SCARY

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOULL ASK THE SHODAI HOKAGE TO (WHAT, RISE FROM HIS GRAVE?) TO GIVE US A SHAKING

(He wouldnt lmao, Izuna would probably have given them a gift basket for inconveniencing Ming Fan tbh. This fact however will never and has never stopped Ming Fan from using his name as a blunt force weapon against those who dont know better.)

So.

Ming Fan is brought to the Hokage.

DRUM ROLL PLEASE AS WE NOW INTRODUCE KONOHA'S SANDAIME HOKAGE IN THIS TIMELINE MING FAN HAS NOW LIGHTLY FUCKED UP,,,

KAGAMI UCHIHA !!!

Yeah so with Izuna as the first Hokage, the hat then went to Tobirama, who then passed it down to Kagami, who is currently looking at Sakumo as his possible successor

So, a very peeved Ming Fan is escorted to the Hokage's office. On his way over, he's taking note of the buildings and the clear passage of time. He looks at the mountain and finds 2 new faces besides Izuna's own annoying one, and catches wind of exactly what happened pretty fast.

Hopefully Tobirama isn't dead yet though, because oh man does Ming Fan have some words for him

(Ming Fan is annoyed to find his favorite little shop from before has been replaced by some stupid fuckin ramen restaurant. Ugh.)

Ming Fan finally arrives, and Kagami, who actually interacted with him more than a few times back in the day, does a fucking comedy spit take and blurts out, "Fan-dono?????"

Ming Fan does not recognize him at first and when he finally does, it's him going oh you're that hanger on brat who was always begging Tobirama to teach you.

Not. The most flattering take. But Kagami will take it.

So Kagami is like, Hokage now. But also he has memories of Ming Fan as both Tobirama's friend and also Izuna's friend and also just like. "Respected guy my mom told me to be good around."

So theres all sorts of things happening in his head rn on how to react to this situation

Ming Fan meanwhile has never interacted with a Hokage he wasnt allowed to call stupid to their face (to be fair Izuna would immediatley call him stupid back) so he is not giving Kagami the respect expected of like. Literally any ordanary shinobi to give him.

But he lucks out and gets a pass on it bc Kagami still has him slotted into the "sensei and Izuna-sama's respected friend" part of his brain that makes him feel like a kid again

(behind him, the ANBU squad does not like or agree with this turn of events. at all. who the FUCK are you to talk to the Hokage like this what the FUCK)

I think Danzo fucking despises Ming Fan, just because its funny. Ming Fan called him a nosey little brat one too many times as a kid and Danzo developed a childish grudge that he totally forgot about later in life— till he runs into Ming Fan again, years later, looking annoyingly exactly the same, and reawakens the rage of a slighted 12 year old

Sarutobi I dunno, I think hes somewhere between Kagami and Danzo on "this guy hits the buttons in my brain that make me feel like Im a kid being scolded by my sensei again" and also "holy shit FUCK this guy"

Anyways! Heres the thing:

When he left, Ming Fan absoloutley took some of Tobirama's research with him. It was probably some sort of exchange thing— way back when Ming Fan agreed to be a little science experiment in the first place, he probably made a deal of "yeah ok fine but I want every crumb of research you pull from me and I wanna take it home when I go"

Tobirama kinda shrugged and went "yeah fair enough, but were gonna have to agree on what kind of person is allowed to see some of it"

Shook on it, the end

So Ming Fan has this big ass thing of notes up his sleeve— filled with stuff about the differences between a shinobi and a cultivators bodies, some different fun notes Tobirama took while adapting some of Ming Fan's techniques to be used by chakra and vice versa w Ming Fan trying to use Tobirama's techniques with qi, notes on editing the hiraishin to try and get him home, etc.

Theres also probably just some other random stuff— mostly medical and jutsu / sealing guides, which Ming Fan traded information to bring home thinking the sect would benefit from it. If nothing else, his shizun will get a kick out of it

(oh boy would SQQ get a fucking kick out of seeing goddamn naruto lore written out in detail and refffered to as texts from another dimension)

^ so all of that is to say that Ming Fan has the traces of the seal to try to bring him back home, but he cant fucking use it himself bc he doesnt know how to preform the hiraishin, which is a major component of it

(and also part of why Tobirama let him take it to begin with, unconcerned of Ming Fan or someone else ever using it to come back bc they've already established his different biology somehow makes him physically unable of using the hiraishin)

So he just needs to find Tobirama again, or minimum someone who can use the hiraishin, and he can at least just try again. Maybe the last time sending him forward was a fluke? It probably only needs some minor tweaks, right? So just— get him Tobirama, and they'll sort it out

Learning Tobirama is dead, Ming Fan is,,, well, he was already prepared to say goodbye when he left the first time. And looking at the statues, Tobirama clearly lived an accomplished life. Same with Izuna— Ming Fan kind of resolves to just not think about it.

When he asks about Madara, Ming Fan is informed that a year after he left, Madara apparently turned traior and attacked the village. This is. A lot. For him to swallow.

Ming Fan has a moment of blaming himself for not having seen the darkness festering inside Madara, but brushes the feeling away. There was nothing he could have done, and he has been down the road of blaming himself for not catching a tell that hinted towards secret evil intentions one too many times during his missions to do it again here.

(Still, a complicated feeling rises in him. He'd spent years, at that point, by the founders side. To hear Madara had gone and tried to kill them all— If nothing else, Ming Fan had truly thought Madara loved his brother.)

BUT DO YOU KNOW WHO IS SOMEHOW ALIVE? FUCKING HASHIRAMA AND MITO !!!

Hashirama, having never become Hokage, was never poisoned! Instead he retired, now too old to fight even if he wanted to, and lives in the Senju compound with his aging wife and big family (including his granddaughter, Tsunade)

In the last few years, it's seems like he's become sick, only a few people allowed to visit him, and almost only senju. Very sad, he's expected to die any day now

SO !

Ming Fan hops over to the Senju compound, and though literally everybody expected he wouldn't be allowed to see him, Hashirama permits him to enter his rooms

(The list of those who can see Hashirama is as follows:

His wife

His children and grandchildren

The Hokage

and on one very memorable occasion, the current Uchiha clan head, Uchiha Hikaku)

Ming Fan being added to that list,, well, he may not realize it's weight, but its safe to say that once the fact gets out, it's enough to pretty instantly cement him as trustworthy to most of Konoha. Especially those in higher circles

So, Ming Fan goes to Hashirama's side, and Mito greets him. She explains that the Mokuton is as much as a curse as it is a blessing, and opens the door for Ming Fan to see exactly what she means.

For the past few years, Hashirama has been stuck in the process of turning into a tree.

There... isn't much more to say about that.

They had prepared a room for him to spread his roots in, open aired and protected by enough seals to blind a man if they attempted to look in. With grassy floors covered in wildflowers, and a small stream that Mito says they decorated with rocks from the Naka river.

Hashirama sits at the center of it all, more tree than man, asleep most days but having miraculously awoken just in time for Ming Fan's arrival.

Hashirama jokes that it must be fate, and Ming Fan, sobered in this moment, nods and says that his Shizun has often said that everyone is bound by the strings of fate. Whether they obeyed the strings was up to them, but so long as they walked, the strings would continue to guide them to the places they needed to be.

Hashirama laughs, and tells him that he half expected to be cursed out once he'd heard that Ming Fan had been stranded here by his brothers seal.

"Is that really how you wish for this reunion to go?" Ming Fan asks, and Hashirama only laughs again.

"I'd rather hear you curse my name than sit and suffer through you playing polite because you're too offput by this old mans condition to say what you're thinking."

Ming Fan sighs, laying on the grass and staring up at Hashirama's leaves and halfheartedly curses at Tobirama's name, lamenting his situation as Hashirama listens with a smile.

"You don't seem as distressed as I'd expected!" Hashirama notes, and Ming Fan only shrugs. "I'll figure it out, I'm sure."

"How uncharacteristically optimistic of you!"

"I suppose that's just you rubbing off on me then."

Hashirama and Ming Fan talk for quite a while, and it reminds Ming Fan of older nights, when Konoha was still young, before even the Hokage was elected. Nights occasionally spent drinking together, sometimes alone, sometimes with others— Tobirama, Izuna, Madara, Touka, Hikaku, an array of clan heads and heirs, people who've come to make a home, find some peace, and in that moment only share a drink.

To Ming Fan, it had only been a couple of years since those early days.

To Hahirama, it had been decades.

Ming Fan is invited to stay at the Senju compound for as long as he needs to find a way home.

When he stands, he turns to Hashirama, and offers a bow. Lower than any he's offered before, in this world.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Hashirama smiles, and accepts the gratitude for all that it means.

That night, Senju Hashirama falls asleep, and never wakes again.

SOOO ANYWAYS !!

Ming Fan is now staying with the Senju!! In this verse the family is a bit bigger than canon, due to Hashirama's continued survival throughout the years and how that impacted general Konoha politics. This is also before Tsunade left the village, with her little brother Nawaki still alive and Orochimaru's student (though much like Sakumo, their tragic fates are destined to happen any day now)

Through Ming Fan interference, both of these characters eventually avoid these fates, dont ask me how tho but just know that it happens, so.

Ming Fan has 2 goals!

Find someone who can preform the hiraishin!

Find someone who can alter the seals Tobirama used last in an attempt to get him home!

Luckily for Ming Fan, Mito knows just how to help in both of these cases! She can cover number 2, as Konoha's leading (and oldest) seal expert, and her darling grand-niece, Kushina, just so happens to be dating the only guy in the world who knows how to use the hiraishin, isn't that convenient?

With Mito agreeing to help alter the seal and someone to actually use it set in place, Ming Fan has nothing left to really do other than just,, wait.

The good news is that, since he brought Tobirama's research with him and the alterations shouldn't take nearly as much time as last time, it should only be a few months!

This is where we get Ming Fan once again fucking around the village, and how inevitable interferes with Nawaki and Sakumo's deaths

Maybe he's bored and goes with Nawaki on his mission? He's definitely interacting with him, they both live in the senju compound after all!

Nawaki idolizes his grandfather Hashirama, and Ming Fan is apparently a good friend of his!! So hes totally harassing Ming Fan to know more about that!

I think the "time travel" bit is kept secret from the public, just bc like, messyyyy, and Ming Fan's own involvment in early Konoha is pretty unknown in general just bc he was overshadowed by more relevant historical figures— plus its not like he had a clan to continue to remember him.

So very few people even know he existed, let alone that he's that same guy from history

Ummm Ming Fan and Sakumo friendship, I like to hc skaumo as being friends with the sanin so maybe hes around the Senju compound sometimes, idk

A panicked Sakumo is called in for a super last minute mission and tushes over to beg Tsunade to babysit only to realize shes also out, then somehow ropes Ming Fan into watching over Kakashi

Ming Fan ends up lightly making fun of Kakashi's use of chakra (his own pov of how to use chakra being heavily skewed due to experiments with Tobirama) and ends up being roped further into helping to train Kakashi using techniques, tips and tricks told to him by Tobirama

Ming Fan does NOT want to teach Kakashi, Kakashi is very much harassing him into doing it and Ming Fan is less teaching and more 'throwing techniques at him in the hopes hell go away only to find that Kakashi has figured out how to do it correctly on his own and wow thats really alarming actually'

I think Ming Fan would like Kakashi and also be a terrible fucking influence on him bc he is absolutely encouraging him to be as mean and bratty as possible (with other people)

Ming Fan is the kind of guy to teach his students to be evil under the table so they can get away with it, like, "ok so I heard you tried to sabotage someone. And Im really disappointed actually bc you chose such an obvious way and if you're going to sabotage someone at least dont do it in a way that will tie back to you, like, really" kind of energy

Minato receives Kakashi as a student around this time and has to beg Ming Fan to stop bc the things hes teaching Kakashi keep clashing with shit he's trying to teach him and also "did you really tell Kakashi to try and beat up Obito behind the ramen shop to establish dominance because he almost did and I can not express how bad this is for team moral"

Minato is STRESSED but unfortunately this is not Ming Fan's problem. Sorry. Do better.

Without Izuna around to shoot the shit with Ming Fan actually finds himself incredibly bored. He got used to having someone he can be catty around, now hes like. All bored. And maybe a little lonely.

LONELY? WHO SAID THAT? HES NOT LONELY WHAT THE FUCK SHUT UP !! YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT !!!!

He goes to the stupid ramen place that replaced his old favorite shop and discovers he does not like ramen.

This does not improve his mood.

He's fucking bored is the thing, which is why he decides to take missions. And how he ends up with surprisingly high clearance (due to being technically a founder)

And how he ends up on the same team as Sakumo for a very specific mission.

And how, when the mission goes wrong, he sends Sakumo home saying that he'll rescue their mission partners bc at least he's not stupidly recognizable the way Sakumo is.

And how Sakumo never falls from grace

And how just a week later, Sakumo is announced as Kagami's pick for the 4th Hokage.

Sakumo is very grateful towards Ming Fan for the mission thing, considers him to be a good man. He is a little bit blind to the awful fucking influence Ming Fan is on Kakashi, much to Minato's despair.

ANYWHOOO

some months pass and the seal is now complete! Minato is brought in and let in on the secret, and agrees to help!

(getting rid of ming fan? holy shit sign him up!!)

Ming Fan says his goodbies, Nawaki and Kakashi are especially sad to see him go while the adults are all different flavors ranging from "understanding but fondly sad to YES GO GO GET OUT GET OUT LEAVE ALREADY GO PLEASE THANK YOU GOODBYE"

Mito is in general amused at all the shit Ming Fan has managed to start while here, she's a fan of watching him fuck around from afar, eating popcorn

So.

Third times the charm, right? Right???

As Ming Fan immediately realizes, no, no it is not the charm.

Ming Fan reappears on the fucking eve of Konoha's destruction by Pain's hand.

Now. As already stated: I love Ming Fan "just a guy but not really" so much! I think he is decently powerful on his own, just overshadowed by the general cast of SVSSS, and I also think that these past few years hes spent here in naruto, sparring with people like the founders, participating in experiments with Tobirama to see how far qi can be pushed in contrast with chakra, learning new techniques and adapting to the different levels of ambient chakra and qi in this world— well, he's not ready to split skies or anything like that but its safe to say that Ming fan was, and now is even more pretty fucking strong.

All of that is to say Ming Fan may be more attached to Konoha than he realized bc when he sees it being destroyed it isn't just the anger of a righteous cultivator seeing innocents be attacked that's lit inside him, nah Ming Fan is about to throw the fuck down

(It takes him not even a second to affix the konoha headband to his belt before he jumps into the fray)

So! Lets take a peek at the Hokage time line in Ming Fan's absence!

Kannabi bridge went unfortunately similar to canon, and Obito fell into Madara's hands.

With Sakumo still alive at the time, Kakashi was able to recover from this without the major personality shift, and due to a combination of Sakumo and Ming Fan's additional training, when it was Rin's turn on the chopping block, she instead survived and now continues to live as the Konoha's second jinchuriki

Obito attacked Konoha with the intention of releasing the kyuubi, and at the time Kushina and Minato were in the Senju compound for the birth

Mito got in his way, delaying him long enough for Sakumo to also arrive

In the fight, both Mito and Sakumo died (fucking thanks, Obito. I dont think Kakashi's gonna be able to forgive u for that one this time around) but Kushina and Minato survived, and Naruto was born healthy and without the fox sealed into him

Kakashi is understandable devastated, and as recovery efforts begin, he's taken in by Minato and Kushina. He offers little fight against this.

With Sakumo's death, Kagami was once again appointed as the Hokage. After only a year or two of stabilizing Konoha + preparing his successor, he quickly gives Minato the hat, and retreats once again to retirement.

Minato makes Kakashi and Rin both ANBU, expressing his desire to have them by his side (at least this time they're slightly older, with Kakashi at 15 and Rin at 17) and puts them on home guard, specifically as Naruto's ANBU guards. It's an easy job, and helps Kakashi in particular to heal some, even if he gets even more rigid about things like rules and formalities

With Izuna as the first Hokage and Kagami as the third (and technical 5th) Uchiha-village relations were actually very good! Thanks to this, the Uchiha massacre was avoided entirely

Kakashi is raised pretty much as Naruto's very protective older brother, with Rin in a similar boat but she still has her own family so there isnt quite so much trauma fueled dependency from her end.

Naruto grows up to be alarmingly talented, with Kakashi and Rin tutoring him, and Minato and Kushina obviously doing their best (though Minato remains mostly busy due to the unfortunate realities of being a Hokage. Meanwhile Naruto is absolutely a total mommas boy)

Kakashi and Rin end up actually fighting over who gets to be Naruto's sensei (Naruto wants NEITHER OF THEM!!!!! HES A BIG BOY NOW STOP CODDLING HIM!!!!!)

Canon then proceeds mostly the same, though with some very obvious major changes

Somewhere along the way, Itachi is convinced to ditch Konoha even without the massacre, and later down the like Sasuke also follows suit to investigate what happened with his brother— though this time he leaves with orders from Minato to go undercover, and investigate Sound

(fucking THANKS dad!! -Naruto, probably, when he finds this out)

COOL! SO! WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY!

Ming Fan fucking bodies Pain right before he kills Kakashi. (Sorry Kakashi, no fireside chat with your father for you)

Now, Ming Fan had a pretty lasting effect on Kakashi's life overall, but he was only around for like, idk, half a year maybe. And Kakashi was young during the time, so his memories of the man remain very blurry and overall half forgotten.

So Kakashi doesn't recognize him immediately— Though from Ming Fan's side, he's immediately mistaking him for Sakumo, then realizing no, wait it isn't him, doing the mental math and making an educated guess that this has to be Kakashi then.

But that doesnt matter rn bc it is THROW DOWN OCLOCK !!!!!

The overall battle goes mostly according to canon but w less casualties since Ming Fan joins in, but then Naruto does his talk no jutsu or however that goes, Pain agrees to revive everyone, boom there done.

So tbh my knowledge of Naruto gets HELLA blurry from here on out, so we're gonna keep it vague, but, like, MING FAN IS HERE AGAIN YAYYYYY

Unfortunately p much everyone who could have instantly recognized him is fucking dead now. Kagami, Danzo and Hiruzen got picked off in previous battles or smthn, Mito and Sakumo are fucking dead, the kids who grew attached to him were too young and the time they knew him too short to really remember,

BUT.

Despite literally only being around for like, 6 months. Ming Fan succeeded at being so annoying that Minato never fucking forgot his face <3

(also there are probably some Uchiha around w sharingan memories of him)

So Minato sees this guy and goes through all the stages of grief at once. Meanwhile Ming Fan is seeing the hat and raising his eyebrows and going no way Sakumo chose THIS bitch boy for the job.

Meanwhile Naruto is standing direcly next to Minato going DAD WHOS THIS WHO IS THAT DAD HEY DAD HEY DAD WHO IS THAT DAD—

(Listen this is a hard day for everyone. Minato included. But this. This. He could just. Really use a fucking break. Thanks.)

But anyways Ming Fan is here and even if he got the option to go home, like, right now, he honestly probably wouldnt take it bc now hes kind of pissed. What do you MEAN Konoha is under attack? What do you MEAN some masked figure killed Sakumo years ago and now is back and also claiming to be Madara Uchiha and theyre trying to fucking kill everyone??

So yeah he's on board to fight, Konoha headband equipped to his belt, he's ready to stick around some more before he tries to go home again.

(and then someone gasps theatrically at Pain's eyes and goes "omg the rinnegan,, the mystical eyes said to be able to traverse time and space,,," and Ming Fan goes WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY THOSE EYES CAN DO")

But also Pain is dead now. So.

(Distant Sasuke, who is still following the beats of his canon story but just undercover under Minato's orders now noises)

So like Ming Fan sticks around, battles happen, we get Kakashi and an older Nawaki remembering him. Nawaki falls back a bit into his old view of thinking Ming Fan is just the coolest, but meanwhile Kakashi kind of takes on the role Izuna used to have, and now him and Ming Fan are having little cat fights in the bg

(With Sakumo having lived so much longer + having been able to comfort his son after Obito's death, the lack of Rin, Minato, and Kushina's death, and just in general all the little things stacking up in a different way than before, Kakashi avoided his major personality shift and is a lot closer to being the strict, bratty kid he used to be than the lazy, perpetually late slack off we know and love in canon)

anyways, blah blah blah, stuff happens, lots of battles, drama, oh my,

Finally we get to the Hokage's being revived for the final battle.

For whatever reason, Ming Fan was occupied somewhere else, possibly getting wrapped up in Sasuke's shit, when they were brought back.

So like.

POV he enters the battlefield, intending to face off with Madara. Then just.

Tobirama, distantly across the battlefield: ᵒʰ ˢʰᶦᵗ ⁿᵒ ʷᵃʸ

Ming Fan, who can hear him just fine bc cultivator: OH SHIT YES WAY YOU USELESS HACK

Ming Fan spends way too much time shouting at Tobirama when he should be FIGHTING GET BACK TO WORK MING FAN

I need a Ming Fan > Izuna > Kakashi bitch fest where they all just fucking snip at each other actually, I think it'd be funny

Ming Fan probably winds up yelling at Madara too, who did not expect to see him here

"Didn't the Senju send you home??"

"Didn't you die after making a fool of yourself in front of all of Konoha??"

Ming Fan doesnt use chakra so he's able to help back up Gai in his fight against Madara, and Gai is able to leave the battle not crippled for life, which is nice

Kaguya descends, things happen, the fight is won and the day is saved, and the fighting finally comes to an end

Sasuke somehow manage to end up with the rinnegan, and instead of trying to use the hiraishan for the third fucking time, Sasuke agrees to try and instead use it (and Ming Fan's qi) as a homing beacon to try and find his original dimension w the rinnegan! Much more reliable method

And so, for the final time, Ming Fan says his goodbyes.

It's,,, an event.

The old hokage's, including Sakumo, are still around with the power of edo tensei, and he's able to give his goodbyes to them all once again, one by one.

Tobirama gives only a brief apology for the seal not working as it should before dissolving into mumbled theories of what might have gone wrong— then remembers himself and shakes his head, offering a curt goodbye

Izuna scoffs and says that at this rate, he expects to see Ming Fan again in a couple decades when the next chakra goddess tries to explode the world and the living are forced to once again turn to him for help💅

Ming Fan tells him to shut the fuck up, and if it happens then he'll just look forward to getting another opportunity to call him a fool to his face, instead of to a grave.

Izuna laughs, and waves him away

Kagami doesn't have too much to say, but thanks Ming Fan for his help. "You may be from another world, but you are just as much of a konoha man as any of us."

Ming Fan... chooses not to take this as an insult. Instead, he nods his head, and gives Kagami the full respect a Hokage would ordinarily deserve, for quite possibly the first time.

Sakumo, he finds holding his son as Kakashi clings to his shoulder. Ming Fan watches for a moment, and Sakumo catches his eye. He gives him a big, genuine smile, mouths thank you, and bows his head.

They already said their goodbyes once, and Ming Fan doesn't wish to take any of the time he has left away from his son. He nods back, and continues.

Minato, when he finds him, is hiding out on the battlefield, laying down with an arm covering his eyes. He groans, when he sees Ming Fan, but sits up.

"Don't despair, you'll finally be getting rid of me." Ming Fan sighs, and Minato snorts.

Minato is... Well, he's a lot more fond of Ming Fan than he once was. Even if the man is still a giant pain in the ass. They speak for a bit, Ming Fan advises him to go ahead and retire already, god knows its what his son would want, and Minato stares up at the sky.

"At this point? I really should have ages ago."

Minato shakes himself, and finally stands, offering a hand to Ming Fan.

Ming Fan clasps his risks, and they nod to each other, probably more civil than they ever have been before.

"Fighting with you has been.... a wonder." Minato seemed to settle on, and Ming Fan arched a brow.

"Not an honor?"

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Ming Fan rolled his eyes, but still smirked.

"Likewise. Take care of your family."

"May you finally return to yours."

And with that, they part ways.

He's walking back to Sasuke, when those who had been edo tenseid fade away. He's just in time to see Kakashi, back turned, as he watches his father go for one final time.

When he turns, he catches his eye. Eyes, plural, as it seems Obito had left him with quite the gift.

Kakashi nods to him, seeming still overwhelmed with his fathers departure, and not quite sure what else to say to Ming Fan.

It's a stark cry from their first goodbye, Kakashi so far from the young boy who once clung to Ming Fan's leg, huffing about him not being allowed to leave till he taught him just a little bit more.

It's Ming Fan, who takes the steps towards the man.

"I'm glad my lessons were ever of any use to you. You've certainly made better use of them than I ever could have imagined." He says, and when Kakashi goes just a touch red under his mask, Ming Fan thinks he might understand what Shizun was talking about, when he laments about the cuteness of his students even once grown.

"WHAT? Are you seriously gonna go, just like that?"

It's Naruto, who's apparently caught wind of Ming Fan planning to leave sooner rather than later.

"No way am I letting you leave with the bastard before he's given me an explanation!" Naruto grabs Sasuke, who with the pained face of someone who knows they're about to get what they deserve, just sort of lets it happen.

"You gotta stay for at least the celebration! We finally won, it's time to party!"

(Ming Fan laughs, and he decides that just for a bit longer— Just a night more, he will stay)

It has been one year to the day, since Shen Qingqiu's head disciple disappeared.

The exact allowance of a disciple to vanish, before you must consider declaring them dead.

Shen Qingqiu...

Doesn't like to talk about it. Binghe seems to realize he can only comfort him so much for this fact, and today has taken to giving him a bit of space, which he appreciates.

It's for this reason, when a swirl appears in his bamboo hut, depositing two men, that Shen Quingqiu is alone.

"Shizun, this disciple is reporting his absence for these last 6 years. I apologize for my lateness." Ming Fan cries, falling to his knees and bowing his head.

Shen Quingqiu is on his feet in an instant, reaching towards his disciple, already having to suppress the cry rising up in his throat as he falls to his own knees, taking Ming Fan's hands in his own.

"Ming Fan will not apologize for thing out of his own control, this one is overjoyed to see you home."

The man behind his disciple shifts, and Ming Fan gestures towards him.

"This Uchiha Sasuke has assisted in bringing me—"

Wait WHAT.

Fuckin. Lugh track. Roll credits. Idk. Boom. Done. Theres ur au. Fuck how did this end up being so long

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