The League of Villains' hideout was never quiet, but tonight the usual murmur of plotting and low threats had settled into something almost peaceful. Y/n sat cross-legged on a worn couch, fingers moving delicately over a small lump of porcelain. Tiny limbs took shape, then a coat, then a familiar mess of dark hair. A miniature Dabi, complete with a scowl, rested in her palm.

She exhaled, and the doll twitched. Then it stood. Then it turned its tiny head toward the real Dabi across the room and pointed.

Before Y/n could answer, the doll hopped off her hand and started marching toward him, its tiny porcelain boots clicking against the floor. Dabi's eyes narrowed. He swatted it away with the back of his hand, sending it skittering across the room. Then, in one fluid motion, he reached out, grabbed Y/n by the wrist, and pulled her straight into his lap.

One arm locked around her waist. His chin hovered just over her shoulder, and his glare fixed on the fallen doll like it had personally offended him.

The room went very, very still. Somewhere behind them, the slow, deliberate sound of a game controller being set down.