This wasn't supposed to happen.

101 ways to fix Xanxus. This series contains Alternate Histories all of which experiment with what changes might have led to Xanxus being only a little broken instead of totally insane.

Most people assume that Kyouko's really nice. They're mistaken: she's simply polite. And there's a huge difference between "nice" and "polite."

In which Yamamoto has cause to go undercover with Bianchi and discovers something about himself.

Yamamoto has kind of a thing for stuff that's perfect. He thinks that's perfectly natural; just about everyone else thinks he's crazy.

The one in which Tsuna and his friends consciously disperse to the four winds when they reach high school, and somehow, all of Tsuna's classmates manage to fall desperately for him before the end of their first year together. And have to find some way to deal with it, since life doesn't stop just because the most unremarkable guy in their year seemed to become irresistible overnight. The most popular defense in their arsenal? Is the phrase, "Sawada Tsunayoshi? Makes. No. Sense." (Or: All Tachibana Ren had wanted was to make a place for himself, away from Iwatobi and the protective hovering of his family. Nothing could have prepared him or the rest of his class for what getting through high school alongside one Sawada Tsunayoshi would mean for them in the long run.)

In which Yamamoto attempts to address Gokudera's regrettably low self-esteem.

In which Tsuna’s the Corpse Whisperer. (Or: In the months he spends at the Varia Compound at Timoteo’s behest, Tsuna manages to stumble across enough forgotten dead bodies to fill entire cemeteries. And everyone is terribly amused. Except, y’know, for him.)

Dino Cavallone has a broad-minded sense of fair play.

Just because an alpha can go through rut alone doesn't mean he should. "Okay." Lance's palms were sweaty with what he was about to say. He was about to break so many rules. "Cards on the table, guys. We got any omegas sitting here?"

Some things, no matter how effective, are not to be used as negotiating tactics.

This is a dark Alternate History arc that follows what might happen if Mukuro had decided to make Xanxus his tool of conquest instead of Tsuna.

Haru is a morning person; Gokudera isn't. But he manages to cope with that.

Flames can be good for more than just fighting.

Delayed gratification has its good points.

Gokudera can't bring himself to compromise on some issues, even when he'd really like to. Having a sense of responsibility can be a real nightmare that way.

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.

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.

This is all massively troublesome, damn it, and Shikamaru only has himself to blame.

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?” The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?” There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

“You’ve heard the rumors,” Mustang says, looking at Ed over the top of his latest report, “about the angels.” Ed scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Angels don’t exist, don’t be ridiculous.” “Of course, of course,” he murmurs, gaze sliding back down, “There have been multiple eye witness accounts, however.” Ed slouches into the chair and doesn’t bother to keep the contempt to from his voice when he says, “Don’t depend on anything with wings to save you. Things that were made to leave always end up doing so, in the end.” “Yes, well,” he says, “sometimes they come back.”

An AU oneshot based off of my fic "An Invincible Summer" The Massacre was prevented, and some things stay the same, but a lot of things are different. Mostly that Natsu ends up with a different Uchiha.

A collection of short stories depicting new versions of old myths. OR: What happens to Icarus after he fell, Hermes and Hestia meddle and save humanity, and Hades would just like a nap.

Every time Edward sees the circle on the back Mustang's hand, he wants to scream, wants to reach across the desk and shake him, wants to wrap his hands around the older man's throat and ask if it was worth it, if this desk and his rank is worth the screaming, crying, writhing, burning bodies of his people - "Something to say, Fullmetal?" Mustang drawls. Edward snaps the file shut, "Nope."

“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.)

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

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

“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.

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

“What do you mean, you’re related to the Nidaime?!” Izumo demands, hands flapping faintly like he can’t decide whether to strangle Kotetsu or flail.

“No,” Obito says, flat and cold. It’s testament to how much she’s hardened over the last year that Hinata doesn’t even blink. She certainly doesn’t waver, feet planted firmly on the other side of the bed and eyes fixed on him. “Do you really think I would come to you if there was any other option?” she asks quietly.

Originally, Gaara thought the plan - brought to him by a desperate and shaken Naruto on the last holding place of the world's few remaining shinobi - was both insane and impossible. No one ever accused Gaara of being sane, nor sensible, so he agreed anyway. He hadn't really expected it to work.

“Kid, this is Kurosaki Ichigo,” Kūkaku says, and there's something crafty in her expression that makes her look far too much like Urahara for comfort. “Ichigo, this is Uchiha Obito, resident ninja.” “Ninja?” Ichigo repeats, dropping the attempt at politeness in favor of incredulity. “You mean like a ninja ninja?”

She's been looking forward to this all afternoon.

In which Yamamoto is sneaky, and Gokudera falls for it. Just like he always does.

There's more than one reason to approve of Hibari's preference for traditional clothes.

Tsuna gives his people whatever they need, and Yamamoto is no exception. Porn with Characterization.

“Play dumb is surely the first line of defense for any physically weak child. And for children who can use illusions, that defense becomes a weapon.”

Bianchi is asexual. Unfortunately, she is an asexual woman in the mafia. And for women in the mafia, that is Not. An. Option.

When you have access to the future, you'd be a fool not to use it when it comes to matters of great importance. And within the mafia, nothing is more important than Inheritance. Or, Lambo discovers there's a reason the Bovino shouldn't read the Epilogue first.

Hibari is starting to doubt that his carefully ordered world will ever recover from Sawada Tsunayoshi.

Tsuna and his guardians died in a blaze of glory. Then they woke up, slowly, one at a time, in a different world that was the same in all the ways that really mattered. Or the one where Tsuna and his guardians are reincarnated into the class below the Konoha rookie nine.

“I’m…uh….a retired competitive figure skater?” he asks, his voice going higher with embarrassment. “And I…uh…got 2 golds in the Grand Prix…and 2 golds in Worlds….and maybe a silver in Pyeongchang?”

Hibari Kyouya travels in time and takes over the world. Basically crack.

The best way to get to the heart is between the ribs and up. But there are other routes, too.

Sometimes it's really difficult to figure out what Mukuro-sama actually wants.

Tsuna's been losing time nearly ever since he's met Reborn, with a voice whispering in his ear, and something taking control of him whenever he's shot with one of his tutor's special bullets. It gets worse before it gets better. (Or: That one in which Hyper Dying Will Tsuna isn't quite what he seems to be, at first glance.)

Briar was in the southeast refectory hoping to steal an early breakfast before the rush when he heard the whisper, passed between an older padawan and a young archivist. Have you heard? The words echoed through the halls, traveling from being to being, spoken in low, excited voices or loud ones pretending at boredom. Have you heard, have you heard the news?

A Yuri on Ice fusion with Project Runway. Or this time they’re fashion designers, not ice skaters.

In a world where Fugaku has three sons, he wishes he'd stopped at the one. There's nothing wrong with the youngest, it's just... The middle child.