“We need to brush you hair.” Dabi muttered quietly as his scarred hands softly ran through your baby curls. Dabi had found you as a baby (you’re now a toddler) and for whatever reason taken you in.

Now he sat beside you silently watching the cartoons you were giggling at as he played with your hair. You were far too young to understand how dangerous the man was, Dabi might have been a psychopath but he was nothing but loving and caring toward you.