“Somebody what?” Hidan demands. “Killed three of the elders and tried to kill the headman,” Fū reports cheerfully, and grabs his arm as he wheels around, flinging herself up onto his back. Hidan grunts, staggers, but keeps moving, and Fū locks her knees around his ribs with a laugh. “Fuck, someone else got to them first?” Hidan complains. “I had dibs!”

Edward, Tobirama, some accidental dimension travel, and questions of methodology. Plus snark.

Obito turns himself into the Whomping Willow. It goes great, right up until people start making a nuisance of themselves under his roots.

“Oh my god,” Jiraiya says, staring up at the ceiling.

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.”

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

Sirius Black grabs his godson and flees to Italy after Godric's Hollow. Landing in the middle of organized crime, curses, and malevolent ghosts was most definitely not part of the plan, but there might be a few perks.

Before he follows, Shisui takes one more look out the cold glass, and shivers. He can hear the floe grinding against the surrounding ice, an eerie, disconcerting sound, like a massive beast growling in the darkness. The howl of the wind is a high, lonely counterpoint, a forsaken sound, and Shisui grits his teeth and forces himself to ignore it. He’ll get used to the sound someday. He won't have a choice.

The guards wave Sakumo in as soon as he tells them he’s carrying Konoha's tithe.

“Where are we even going?” Mikoto demands.

The creature chuckles, and as Genma watches his upper body shifts, changes. He loses the more monstrous features, and a moment later a blue-skinned man with a shark’s tail is hauling himself all the way up to sit on the bank, his tail still dangling in the water. “No one has to get hurt,” he says, and deliberately sets Genma's knife on the grass. “You unlocked my prison. I'm not going to eat the guy who helped me out.”

“It’s a ritual,” Tajima says, seated on the end of Butsuma's cot with one leg pulled up under him. “The fire will only kill you if you let it.”

Shūhei is in the middle of trying to figure out how to tell his captain we don’t do things that way anymore because that system is outdated and also wrong when the whole world lurches under his feet.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be, un?” Deidara demands, bristling. “The villain from a shitty Princess Gale movie?”

Tobirama follows Hashirama to the river with a thousand points of light burning in his head. He leaves with one as all he can see, a bonfire, a conflagration. Uchiha Madara sets a match to his life with the simple fact of his existence, and in his wake Tobirama is left standing in a field of ashes.

The best revenge is living well. And maybe also spitefully staging a minor political coup to take over Konoha as payback for getting stuck in an arranged marriage.

“I just want to go home,” he tells Nagato, and hates that he sounds so very much like the crybaby child Kakashi always calls him. Nagato's expression twists, grief and sympathy all wrapped up and tangled together. He catches Obito's bandaged face in his hands, leans in to touch their foreheads together, and it’s closer to anyone than Obito has been in years. “I know,” Nagato says, hoarse. “I know, Obito. But we can save everyone we love, we can save the world. All it takes is our sacrifice. And someday, when we’ve put everything to rights, we can go back. We can live in a good world with everyone we care for, and know that we’ll never lose them to war. Isn't that worth it?”

The path through the mire is narrow, barely visible against the dark water and grim-green of half-drowned paths, but Haku's feet don’t waver. He picks his way through, familiar and steady, and doesn’t take his eyes off the water.

There's something moving in the depths of the armory.

“Still breathing?” Madara asks, and the words are harsh in his throat.

There's no division between the forest and the citadel.

There's something in the water.

Kurama hears the footsteps long before anything else.

In the center of the spring is a listing signpost, one of several long since faded into incomprehensibility. If there were directions there, Tsume can't see any trace of them, but there's an angel perched atop the signpost, wide white wings sending feathers drifting across the breeze.

“There's something down there,” Tobirama says when he surfaces.

Smothering his amusement, Tobirama leans up, a few inches further than the other teacher can manage, and plucks the wayward student down from the tree he’s attempting to climb. Settling back, he flips Naruto upside down, dangling him under one arm, and asks Iruka with a smirk, “I believe this is yours?”

It’s a gateway, but he doesn’t seem to realize that.

“You want to hire a Kiri nin?” the swordsman says in surprise.

The Akatsuki are hired to separate a certain prince from a certain homonculus. It doesn't go quite as planned for anyone involved.

Ichigo's found his Sky. Things are just...a little turbulent while everyone adjusts.

Xanxus’s Sky-born intuition is a rough, ragged thing, more given to acute paranoia than any helpful impulses, but he has it. He’s always had it, even when he chooses to ignore it, but some moments it gets harder to push it down, shut it out, focus on logic and reason instead of that little voice screaming in the back of his thoughts. Not Vongola Hyper Intuition, but bad enough on a normal day. Worse, now. So much worse. His instincts are going fucking nuts, and Xanxus can't even begin to figure out why.

“What is that,” Obito says flatly. “It is a cactus,” Gaara says, like that’s the only question here. Deftly, with an air of ceremony, he sets the pot in Obito's hands, and then tells him, “It reminded me of you.”

Zabuza's got a thing for vicious, especially when it comes wrapped up in a cute package.

“Are those even practical?” Iruka hisses, unable to tear his eyes away from his mission partner.

“You would think they’d make it harder to break into their castle,” Mei huffs, and heaves the body of a guard into one of the empty rooms to sprawl with the others.

That’s a nice face, Genma thinks. A hell of a nice face. And the biceps that are as big around as Genma's head are nothing to sneeze at, either. “Genma,” Aoba starts, a warning in his voice, but in the same moment the bigger Swordsman laughs again, leaning down, and instantly three of the genin swarm him. He boosts them up, then rises easily, like the weight of three genin is nothing at all, and Genma watches them laugh and cling to his shoulders, his arms, and licks his lips. “Genma,” Aoba says, and that’s his judgey and horrified tone.

“I want it known that I'm only allowing this under protest,” Kakashi says dryly. Zabuza rolls his eyes, leaning back against a tree and watching the trio on the bridge with amusement. “Yeah, you’ve said that. I don’t think the Hokage was impressed, either.”

Obito meets a version of himself from another world. And another, and another, and another.

Tobirama loved Itama enough to go against the natural laws in an attempt to bring him back. For Itama, it’s time to return the favor.

Just when Konan has lost hope, she meets a hero.

There's a low chuckle from behind them, and the bedsprings creak as Kakashi sprawls out, half-reclined as he watches them with heavy-lidded eyes. “You know,” he says easily, “of all the perks I expected as Hokage, this definitely wasn’t one of them.” “Threesomes with other Kages?” Utakata asks, dragging his fingers up Zabuza’s spread thighs, and those golden eyes don’t waver from Zabuza’s, intent and hot even if he sounds like he’s just making polite conversation. Kakashi chuckles. “I meant access to your own personal harem,” he says lightly. “But that too.”

She’s barely days away from finally challenging Yagura for his seat, so of course Zabuza chooses now to make himself a problem.

Obito gets one look at the firefighter taking off his coat and almost drops his end of the gurney on his foot.

Kakashi’s senses keep going haywire, and Genma is pretty sure he’s the only one who notices.

Kurama! Kurama, go right to baa-chan! Get to her or I'm going to smack you, believe it! “Ha,” Kurama mutters under his breath, and deliberately turns away from the hospital, heading for the market instead. “You're not in the driver’s seat right now, brat. Let’s see how you like it.” Kurama! Kurama, don’t you do anything— “Sorry, can't hear you,” Kurama says smugly, and drowns out Naruto's voice from his inner world with all the spite of twenty-three years spent watching his host shovel down a truly nauseating amount of ramen each day.

“There’s too much to be done,” Padmé says, and looks back to meet the holo’s flickering gaze. “Our base on Ithor was compromised, and I can't take the time to vet a bodyguard—” “Then it’s a good thing,” Obi-Wan says with careful cheer, “that I found one for you.”

There’s a child hiding behind his robes. Mace looks down, brow rising like a warning flare, but doesn’t move. Leia looks back, all big, innocent brown eyes and perfect guilelessness, and pulls a fold of brown cloth over her head as she practically stuffs herself under his chair.

Adrift in a strange universe, Marc gets hired to take out a Jedi general. He agrees, even knowing it won't be an easy mission. What he doesn't expect is the interference of one Commander Cody, which throws him into a tailspin and sets off a cascade of events that absolutely no one could have predicted. At least Khonshu is having one hell of a time.

It’s always been something of a point of pride, for Ponds, that he never really has to worry about his general.

“There’s a Lantern out here?” Hal asks incredulously.