“Sergeant, are you hurt, too? No? Are you sure?” A pause. “Fine, sit down and take his hand,” the medic orders. Every medic has his own strategies to care for his brothers. These are medic Boil's.

Eight (short) Hanukkah fics featuring the Bats

Izuku is de-aged and Dadzawa acts as if it's perfectly normal.

This is so not Hawks's day. Rumi is getting antsy with his stalling, frowning as the faint light that filters up to them puts a gleam in her eye. Hawks needs a plan fast, and one that will convince the League he's at least tried to play their side when they inevitably show up to see him and Rumi wrecking the absolute shit out of their pet monster. "Okay," Hawks says, "This is gonna sound real weird, but I need you to punch me in the face. It's for - " CRACK!

It’s been a long time since Gojou Satoru last celebrated his birthday. Or, Gojou gets surprised by his cute students and has a revelation. Resting his arm on the table, Satoru props his chin up, watching the kids bickering between themselves. They’re filled with such innocence, despite being sorcerers, and maybe Ijichi is right— Satoru should let them enjoy their youth where they can. He’d never had that himself, as the target of assassins from the moment of his birth. “Oh, almost forgot!” Nobara says, grabbing a paper bag from the worktop and dropping it in front of Satoru. “We also got you this.” Satoru raises his eyebrow and grins. “You got me a paper bag? How wonderful!”

For most people, dying and waking up in your eight-year-old body is a second chance at life. For Dabi, it is a chance to make his shitty father’s life a living hell. Or: Dabi sucks at this whole time travelling thing. In his defence though, there’s really not much a kid can do in the grand scheme of things… or so he thought.