Extra stories for the Retrograde series.

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

For a prompt on my Tumblr: TOS!Sannin. Tsunade McCoy the grumpy, compassionate alcoholic with a heart of gold, Jiraiya Kirk the cocky and intelligent leader and womaniser, and finally, S'chan T'gai Orochimaru, the 'non-emotional' genius scientist with a not-so-hidden soft, gooey emotional centre.

“Oh, fuck,” Squalo says, thankfully at about a quarter of his normal volume, as he tumbles to lean against the wall beside Xanxus. “This is like with that shitty Bronco all fucking over again, don’t you fucking dare.”

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

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.”

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.

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.

“Why does the paper say you're dating?” Dick asks, waving the Sunday edition in Bruce's face. Bruce doesn’t let his expression so much as twitch. Dick can sense blood in the water the same way a shark can, and he knows Bruce far too well. “Does it?” he asks mildly.

Nyx wakes up on an alien world, the imprint of the Ring of the Lucii burned into his finger. It's still not the weirdest thing that's happened to him in the last twenty-four hours.