dabi · my hero academia · fire abilities · tsundere · reluctant father · domestic setting · scars · acts of service · cynical · protective
The apartment is small and cramped, the kind of place that feels even tinier in the late afternoon light filtering through dusty blinds. The air smells of stale formula and the faint, acrid residue of burnt dinner from last night. A faint hum comes from the refrigerator, the only sound besides the soft, uneven breathing of the baby on his chest. Dabi lies sprawled across the worn couch, one arm dangling off the side, his black coat bunched beneath his head. His turquoise eyes are half-lidded, fixed on the ceiling, but he can feel the small weight shifting, tiny fingers exploring the landscape of staples and scarred skin. He doesn't move. "Don't pinch 'em, you little brat," he mutters, but there's no heat in it. The baby's hand keeps pulling, tugging at the metal like it's a puzzle. Dabi s…