Flashes of an unknown past haunt Naruto, entwining his steps with those of a former life no longer content to stay forgotten. There's a voice on the wind and another lifetime in his head, and it’s time for Uzushio’s Storm God to rise once more. (The soul of a city is a hard thing to kill. Uzushio is still aware, still waiting. And now, with the rebirth of her greatest Kage, it’s time to call her people home.)

For the sake of his pride, Jiraiya's going to imagine that his double went out in the bed of some voracious and lusty twins—no, make that triplets, with everyone wildly satisfied and a smile on his face. The whole alternate universe thing is easier to swallow that way.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, Orochimaru falls in love with his teammate. This…changes things.

Itachi and Madara massacre the clan, but they miss one member. Obito, loyal Konoha ANBU and disowned Uchiha, suddenly finds himself out of the organization that’s been his life for eight years and raising a traumatized, orphaned child. Kakashi helps. Or watches and plays the smartass, it’s a bit of a tossup.

In a world where he didn’t die at the bridge, Obito is a loyal Konoha shinobi, even if his Konoha is practically gone. Rather than die at the hands of Orochimaru, Obito triggers an experimental time-space jutsu that sends him across dimensions, into a world where his counterpart went insane and Kakashi is mystifyingly different.

After the loss of his wife and his predecessor, Minato throws himself into his work, leaving his son almost entirely alone. Naruto grows up shunned but never outright reviled, aware of his burden and achingly lonely. But it’s not his way to give up, and someday, with the help of Kakashi, Obito, and a few faithful friends, he’s going to show his father just what kind of shinobi he can be.

Naruto isn’t the only one in the village to earn the title “monster”. At the age of six, he meets a collared Orochimaru and makes a most unlikely ally.

Orochimaru is on the edge of breaking when someone unexpected pulls him back to solid ground. When the time comes, he returns the favor.

“Oh my god, Obito, I don’t care that you keep turning our roommates into mindless zombies devoted to serving your will, but in the name of everything holy, at least stop putting them in thrall when you're singing Taylor Swift songs in the shower.”

Obito snatches up the abandoned bottle, jogs three steps, and hurls it with all the force he can manage at the back of the white-haired litterer’s head, snarling, “Hey, asshole! It’s called recycling!”

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni is a wise and terrifying warrior, the titan who has ruled the Gotei 13 for over a thousand years. But, at heart, he’s an old man who likes his tea prepared a certain way and has a soft spot for talented youngsters. It started with Ukitake and Kyoraku, and his latest fledgling seems to be one Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute soul reaper. (Alternatively, a story in which Yamamoto is a crafty old man, Ichigo grows up to be utterly terrifying, and Aizen doesn’t stand a chance.)

He cannot help but compare himself to the swords that hang on the wall, silver and pale and edged with red, kept in sheathes until they're needed to kill. (At five years old he takes a needle and inks red into his own skin, sharp slashes like the cut of a knife on each cheek, and it’s the first time Uchiha Tajima ever looks at him and smiles.)

According to the Bingo Book, Hatake Kakashi has two dæmons.

Starrk was a delinquent overlord to other delinquents. Kurosaki Ichigo made him look like a pansy. But when Starrk follows him, he gets the shock of a lifetime - and falls just a little bit in love.

When Tobirama returns with the drinks, Madara glances up, flushes slightly at the sight of him, and tries valiantly, if pathetically, “Do you drink milk? It certainly did your body good.” It takes effort not to throw the tray at him.

“No,” Tobirama says again, though he already has a sneaking, sinking suspicion that he’s going to lose this argument, as he does the vast majority of his arguments with Mito. Then, because sometimes the only way to undermine Mito's crazy is to match it, he adds, “If one of us is Batman, the other has to be Robin, and I look terrible in pixie boots.”

A super-cracky modern!AU where Akatsuki is a group of quasi-reformed terrorists and former suicide squad now (nominally) on the side of the angels, saving the planet their own way. Mostly accidentally. Or through recycling. (That's entirely Obito's fault.)

For an anon prompt on my Tumblr that I kind of hijacked: gai/obito tho, kakashi's utterly terrified of the two ever coming together. "I've met Gai, Kakashi, and guess what? I'm going /to befriend him/." "You wouldn't DARE, Obito." "Oh, I would. We're going to be best friends." Obito and Gai hit it off instantly, and it all goes downhill from there. Kakashi finds them making out once and it's so horrible. He's never going to get that image out of his mind.

For a prompt on my Tumblr: omg Utakata and Haku making delicate icebubble art pieces in the winter and Zabuza scoffs at them but he still sits and watches them put the pieces together and even volunteers kubikiribocho sometimes because that hole at the end is a pretty good bubble ring.

Kurama just wants to finish his nap in peace. A particularly idiotic human is making that rather hard.

The separate steps along divergent paths don’t change the fact that the destination remains the same.

Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, oh my. (Or, Tobirama has a date. He will probably live to regret it.) Prequel to It’s Witchcraft.

Crown Prince Obito elopes with the blacksmith’s son. Madara hardly expects his day to get worse from there, but he forgot to factor in his ridiculous brother, his nephew’s cunning, and the return of a distractingly attractive sea god he’d really rather remain in his past. There's only one direction for things to go from there, and it’s definitely not up.

For this ask on my Tumblr: IM IMAGINING THE WRITING THING AS MADATOBI NOW?? IMAGINE!! secret letters between enemy clans. tiny stick figure drawings of hashirama doing something stupid. instructions for a new jutsu. the possibilities are ENDLESS (Aka that soulmate AU where if you write something on your skin it also shows on the other’s.)

For a prompt on my Tumblr: Have you read the version of the Persephone myth where Persephone wasn't abducted but wandered into the underworld under her free will and then refused to leave (to Hades's utter bemusement)? I read it recently and the only things in my head since is fed-up Persephone!Oro meeting bemused Hades!Sakumo after fighting from Zeus!Jiraya :P

Love is a weapon brought to bear. Love is blood spilled without remorse, and a kiss that’s so sweet they can ignore the taste of copper underneath.

It’s not his proudest moment, but Sakumo takes one look at the newest occupant of the gym and walks into a wall.

“It was science,” Tobirama huffs, turning his glare on Madara. “You left your DNA all over me, Uchiha. I was hardly about to pass up the opportunity.” Obito debates clamping his hands over his ears and humming loudly. He did not need to know that in any shape or form, oh god.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” Mito asks thoughtfully.

It’s Jiraiya who brings him the news, bare hours after the decision has been reached.

“Oh?” Orochimaru asks sweetly, trying to judge the room they're in. Some sort of military headquarters, predictably. “They let me keep my doctorates? How kind. But I assume this wasn’t a test of how many low-level guards I could put in the morgue—” “Three,” the younger soldier standing at Danzō’s shoulder cuts in, righteous anger darkening his features. “Three in the morgue, six in the hospital.” “Oh my, you caught me on an off day.” Orochimaru gives the young man his best flirtatious smirk. “Come back tomorrow and I promise, I’ll at least double both counts.” (Or, that Suicide Squad!AU no one asked for and no one wanted, but I wrote anyway. I'm not sorry.)

No one in their right minds would ever expect it of him, and that’s why he’s the one best-suited to the job.

Genma’s last memory of Uchiha Obito is from childhood so many years ago, a boy with a bright smile, always willing to help no matter the consequences, with an ego just a size too large and dreams he hadn’t yet grown into. It is, he thinks, a stark contrast to now.

Shisui is done. Gone. That’s it for him, he’s toast. (Or, Shisui is in love. Naruto is mostly oblivious. Everyone else is entirely convinced that Shisui is a creeper.)

If this airship lasts through one more round of Fire Country, it will be a miracle, Orochimaru thinks.

Aka everyone is a superhero or a sidekick or a damsel in distress in true comic style. Includes terrible hero names, almost everyone wearing spandex (Sakumo why must you be sensible and break the mold you nerd), ridiculousness, secret identity fails, and all of my favorite crack pairings. I would be sorry, but that would require a sense of shame and I misplaced mine long ago.

As a last resort, they finally send Mikoto to talk to her. Kushina's not impressed, even though she has to admire their tenacity. They’ve tried three different elders, the woman who works at the ramen stand she likes almost as much as Teuchi’s, and Fugaku. Apparently, after the utter failure of that last one, they're attempting to pull out all the stops.

Mei laughs, rich and throaty, and takes the glass from her, tilting it up to her lips and taking a long swallow. Then, perfectly careless, she drops it over the arm of the chair to shatter on the floor, gaze never wavering from Kushina. “How about I help you in return, sweetheart? That dress looks uncomfortable. Take it off.”

“You sure you want to do this?” Tōka asks, doesn’t let her gaze waver from the mercenary with a gun to her cousin’s head. Her own are completely steady, and she doesn’t miss a step as she turns, following the woman’s retreat deeper into the cave. “Sorry, Tōka,” Mito says, and the tone is light but there's a look in her eyes that Tōka is fairly sure is rueful. “I'm too pretty to stay in prison for the rest of my life."

Of all the wonderful things to come out of peace talks, Tobirama relishes Izuna's jealousy the most.

Sakumo loses a bet and has to cover the fashion beat for a week. It's not nearly the trial he expected it to be.

Orochimaru, Mito has come to realize, has a good many of the qualities that made her brother-in-law so fearsome, and she’s glad for it.

For a prompt on my Tumblr: Playboy!Orochimaru who ends up with Single Dad!Sakumo in the end. No understands what happened.

There's a monster whispering in Minato's head, curled around his soul. It’s vast and hungry and full of fury, radiates it and basks in it and lets it spill over through the bars that cage it. If Minato had one ounce more energy, he would rage too, but— Anger is a luxury right now, an indulgence. He can't afford it.

All of this, Kakashi would like it noted, is because he has terrible friends.

Zabuza steels himself, breathes out. Remembers he can move, that he can speak, and slowly, carefully slides to his knees. Not a position he would take for anyone else, even Mei if she ever wore the Mizukage's hat, not after a lifetime spent clawing his way up from the streets and into a place of his own power. But—gods are something different. They have to be, or they can't offer miracles, and Zabuza needs that miracle right now. “I was told that you help those seeking justice,” he says.

Sentinel, Genma thinks, and it’s not really a surprise—the Shiranui Clan have always produced about equal numbers of Guides and Sentinels—but… Guide, something in him whispers, and it’s desperate, grasping, clinging to the beat of the man’s heart. Guide, Guide, Guide, and Genma breathes him in, feels the stirring deep in his soul that tastes of old things and instincts and wants to reach—

Zabuza's first mission out of the village with his genin team takes them right through hostile territory. What a surprise that it goes south.

Obito glances over Sakura, sprawled out on the couch painting her nails, and raises a brow. “I thought Kakashi told you to leave?” “Ha.” Sakura checks her nails, then starts applying another coat. “He has like three hundred sports channels. I'm not moving an inch.”

“Thank you,” he says, and the words feel like they don’t fit right in his mouth. What are you supposed to say, really, when someone gives you a piece of their spirit-form? Especially under these circumstances. Shisui wishes treason came with some kind of manual. Maybe a book full of helpful hints. When plotting to overturn decades of hatred and stop a war by lying to the whole world, be careful not to offend the man giving you his teeth to wear as earrings.