BHURECAT🐾

Well, behold! The Samurai Jack : Obsession Timeline!

Welcome to the timeline where the hero of the universe has been forcefully rebooted. The Alter Ego is blissfully, frantically in love. The real Samurai is a trapped prisoner in his own flesh.

If you think you know how this AU ends... think again. This dynamic is the complete opposite of the movie.

"Aww, it's you! You've grown so tall!"

"Please get away from ME!"

(Astell's redesigned look and her high-school enemy!)

The apartment was unusually quiet.

Not peaceful quiet.

Tense quiet.

The kind that settled after an argument had already started but neither person wanted to admit they were actually upset.

Johnny stood near the kitchen counter with his arms folded tightly across his chest, sunglasses still on despite being indoors.

Which was always a bad sign.

Jack stood across from him, visibly confused.

“…I still do not understand why you are angry.”

Johnny immediately pointed at him.

“Oh, REALLY?”

Jack blinked once.

“Yes.”

“That’s the problem!”

Jack’s eyebrows pulled together slightly.

Johnny groaned dramatically before turning away for a second, running a hand through his hair.

“This is exactly what I mean, man!”

“You are speaking very loudly.”

“Because I’m frustrated!”

Jack stared at him carefully.

“…Over a conversation?”

Johnny spun back toward him.

“A conversation I couldn’t understand!”

Jack paused.

Then realization slowly crossed his face.

“…Ah.”

“YEAH, ‘AH.’”

Johnny pointed accusingly again.

“You and that guy were standing there talking in Japanese for like twenty minutes!”

“…She.”

Johnny froze.

“…What?”

“That was a woman.”

A dangerous silence followed.

Johnny lowered his hand slowly.

“…Okay, wow. That somehow made it worse.”

Jack looked genuinely baffled now.

“There was nothing inappropriate about the conversation.”

“How would I know?!”

Johnny gestured wildly.

“I don’t speak Japanese, Jack!”

Jack opened his mouth—

Then closed it again.

Because honestly…

That was fair.

Johnny exhaled sharply through his nose.

“You were laughing and talking and I’m just standing there like some idiot trying to figure out if you’re discussing ancient philosophy or planning to dump me.”

Jack’s expression softened slightly at that.

“…Johnny.”

“What?”

“She was an old classmate.”

Johnny crossed his arms tighter.

“…Uh huh.”

“She asked about my travels.”

“…Uh huh.”

“And whether you were truly as loud as I described.”

Johnny paused.

“…What?”

A faint pause.

Then—

“…I said yes.”

Johnny stared at him.

Jack remained perfectly serious.

Johnny’s eye twitched.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet you are still here.”

“That’s not the point!”

Jack stepped closer carefully.

The frustration in Johnny’s posture remained, but underneath it—

There was something smaller.

Something quieter.

Hurt.

“…You felt excluded,” Jack said finally.

Johnny looked away immediately.

“…Maybe.”

Jack watched him silently for a moment.

Then:

“…I apologize.”

Johnny blinked.

That was unexpectedly fast.

Jack continued calmly.

“I did not realize it would upset you.”

Johnny’s shoulders loosened slightly.

“…It wasn’t just that.”

Jack waited.

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I dunno, man.” His voice dropped quieter. “You looked… comfortable.”

Jack tilted his head slightly.

“I was.”

Johnny frowned immediately.

“Wow. Cool. Awesome. Great—”

“With an old friend,” Jack interrupted gently.

Johnny stopped talking.

Jack stepped closer again.

“…Not more comfortable than I am with you.”

Silence.

Johnny stared at him.

Jack’s expression remained calm, but softer now.

“…You are important to me,” he said quietly. “In every language.”

Johnny froze completely.

Then immediately looked away.

“…Okay, see, now that’s not fair.”

Jack blinked.

“What is not fair?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that when I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

For the first time that evening—

Jack smiled.

Small.

Subtle.

But undeniably amused.

Johnny pointed at him dramatically.

“Oh, don’t do that little smile thing either. I’m serious.”

“…You are very jealous for someone who claims confidence.”

Johnny scoffed loudly.

“I am confident.”

A pause.

“…I’m just also emotionally dramatic.”

“…That,” Jack admitted quietly, “is true.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes.

“…Rude.”

The grand hall shimmered, drenched in the warm glow of gold and amber light.

Music reverberated off the palace walls, laughter mingling with the rhythmic jingle of bangles and the soft patter of footsteps on polished marble. Nobles twirled gracefully on the dance floor, while servants darted between tables, balancing trays laden with delicacies. Somewhere deeper in the crowd, a voice rose above the rest, singing far too enthusiastically.

And in the midst of it all—

Johnny Bravo was talking.

Again.

Loudly.

“—and THEN I said, ‘Baby, no one wears silk better than me,’ and honestly? I was right.”

A nearby group erupted in laughter, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

Johnny grinned, oblivious to the storm brewing across the hall.

Jack leaned against one of the intricately carved pillars, his arms folded tightly across his chest. He was watching. Still. Very, very unimpressed.

Tonight, his long black hair cascaded over his shoulders, softer than usual under the palace lights. The pale pink outfit he wore—layered fabric draped elegantly around him, adorned with glimmering gold jewelry—should have made him look gentle. Instead, he radiated an aura of quiet intimidation, especially as his gaze locked onto Johnny.

And Johnny, unfortunately, had finally noticed.

“…Uh oh.”

Jack began striding toward him, calm and collected.

Which was somehow worse.

Johnny chuckled nervously. “Hey, samurai—”

“Outside.”

His tone was neither loud nor angry, but it carried an unmistakable weight of danger.

Johnny pointed at himself, feigning innocence. “Me?”

Jack halted in front of him, a formidable presence.

“…You promised me you would handle one task.”

Johnny winced.

“…Right. About that.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, his disappointment palpable.

“You forgot.”

“Okay, technically—”

“You forgot.”

“…Yeah, okay, I forgot.”

A few nearby guests pretended to be engrossed in their own conversations, but their ears were tuned in.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Johnny leaned in closer. “Can we maybe not do the scary disappointed stare in front of everybody?”

Jack’s expression remained unchanged.

“…Outside. Now.”

With a dramatic sigh, Johnny relented. “Yes, dear.”

That earned him a sharper look, but somehow, it delighted him.

Once the palace doors closed behind them, the music faded into the background, leaving only the cool night air, fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers from the garden below.

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the moment. “Look, I know I messed up.”

Jack stood near the railing, his back turned slightly, a picture of calm fury.

“You assured me it would be completed.”

“I know.”

“It was important.”

Johnny sighed deeply. “...I know.”

Silence enveloped them, thick and uncomfortable.

Jack rarely let his anger truly surface; frustration was his constant companion, annoyance a daily occurrence. But this—this felt different.

Johnny stepped closer, cautiously. “...You’re really mad, huh?”

Jack exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders evident. “I entrusted it to you.”

That stung more than any shout could have.

Johnny’s usual bravado faded, replaced by genuine guilt. “...I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Jack finally turned to face him, his gaze piercing. “And yet you nearly did.”

Johnny opened his mouth to joke, but the words faltered.

No quips. No flirtation. Just raw honesty. “...Sorry.”

The apology felt small, vulnerable, hanging in the air between them.

As a gentle breeze tousled Jack’s hair, Johnny caught a glimpse of something softer in Jack’s expression. “...You look really pretty tonight, by the way.”

Jack blinked, momentarily taken aback. “...Johnny.”

“No, seriously.” Johnny took a step closer, his tone softening. “That outfit? The jewelry? The hair down?” He placed a hand dramatically against his chest. “You’re trying to kill me, samurai.”

Jack averted his gaze slightly, but Johnny noticed the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly—a tiny victory.

Johnny smiled, feeling emboldened. He reached into his pocket. “...I actually had something for you.”

Jack’s curiosity piqued as Johnny revealed a delicate bracelet. Simple. Silver. Not flashy like Johnny’s usual taste, but somehow more sincere.

“I was going to give it to you earlier,” Johnny admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. “Before I got distracted.”

“A frequent occurrence,” Jack replied dryly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Johnny stepped closer, their proximity electric. “...Hold still.”

Jack hesitated, then slowly extended his wrist.

With unusual gentleness, Johnny slid the bracelet onto him, his fingers brushing against Jack’s skin, sending a shiver through the air. “...Might be a little tight,” he murmured.

Jack examined the bracelet quietly. “...It is acceptable.”

Johnny snorted softly. “That’s the closest thing you’ve got to ‘I love it,’ huh?”

Jack remained silent, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

The distant echoes of the palace music floated outside, warm and inviting.

Johnny glanced at the bracelet, then back at Jack. “I heard people talking in there about soul connections and destiny and all that dramatic stuff.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Johnny smiled faintly. “I don’t really get half of it.”

A pause hung between them, charged with unspoken words.

“But I know this.” His thumb brushed lightly against Jack’s wrist. “When I mess things up… you still come find me.”

Jack’s expression shifted, not softer, but quieter.

“And when you’re angry…” Johnny grinned, a hint of mischief returning. “…you still drag me somewhere private instead of leaving me alone.”

Jack stared at him for a long moment, weighing his words.

Then, with a resigned sigh, he muttered, “...You are insufferable.”

Johnny chuckled quietly. “Yeah. But I’m your insufferable problem.”

In a moment of unexpected intimacy, Jack lifted his hand slightly, fingers brushing against the bracelet—not rejecting, but accepting.

And after a heartbeat—

Very lightly—

His other hand caught the front of Johnny’s shirt, not pulling him closer, but keeping him there.

Johnny blinked, taken aback, then smiled—a smaller, more genuine smile.

The music from inside grew louder as the ballroom doors opened, but neither of them moved. Because for all of Johnny’s noise… and all of Jack’s silence… somehow, they had always managed to return to each other anyway.

Samurai Jack fanmade poster yuhhhh

New Samurai Jack OC y'all!

Bloody ver:

Mera ho jaye jo mein parda gira doon.

Aa tujhe akhiyon mein apne basaa loon,

Aa tu na nakhre dikhaa~"

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