moved

“‘ey, what gives?”

A huff of air is expelled from him at the contact, then there’s a more intentional once he’s recovered a moment later. He glares down at the person who’d run into him… only to stop and stare. 

“Augh—!”

He falls backward, hitting the ground with a thud. He struggles to sit up, crying out again as a foot is shoved against his chest and he’s pushed down. His feathers come up to try to push his attacker off of him. He wheezes as a dagger is plunged through his stomach. His feathers drop to the ground as his hands go to his stomach to feel the puncture wound.

His vision is blurry as he looks up at the attacker, struggling to get up again. His lips part slightly and a name is whispered from between them.

“Dabi—”

Dabi may not seem much for protective instincts, but most also don't know that he’s the oldest brother of four children, including a younger sister, all with one shitty father. Of course he’s got protective instincts. And they certainly extend to his little bird. Besides, he just happened to be in the area anyway. And upon stumbling on the scene of his bird, feathers unattached and stomach bleeding, some unknown ruffian standing over him, Dabi decides maybe he could use some more kindling. That’s all that trash is good for, anyway.

"im shitposting from work dont mind me" GO BACK TO WORK BABE

for dabi, that strange, itchy, painful feeling of the nerves repairing after top surgery never went away, and his burns don’t go down far enough to kill that sensation. often he’ll joke about burning his chest just so that feeling will go away, but for the most part he just deals with it.