#why would you do that hes just a kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacedace · 2 months

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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

#batman #batman au #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #dc penguin #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #dick grayson robin #bruce wayne #the joker #tim drake #dc robin #gotham city #open season au #i don't go in for Jason being the 'angry' robin or the 'violent' robin #he was the lil chainsmoking ball of sunshin robin that made sure to do his homework first before going out to fight crime #dick was the scariest robin because he was BOTH incredibly violent & full of rage AND a ball of sunshine & unrelenting hope #Jason was a Gotham kid (an Alley Kid) and I think a lot of the rogues would have respected that #dick got his respect by teaching them how many of their bones a tiny 9 year old could break in a single kick #feel like there's a scene in the extended au in which Tim gets kidnapped but instead of being held for ransom or threatened #it's just the Rogues aggressively mother-henning him and trying to make sure he's alright #Dick gets a call from Harley later that the newest Robin is fine he and Riddler are coming up with deadly traps together #No she doesn't see anything wrong with that - it's just some enrichment activities for them - why do you ask?

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phoenixcatch7 · 9 months

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In love with the idea of captain marvel being Billy's imaginary friend. Like, it'd be so easy. Early depictions had them as almost fully separate people sometimes, like one soul with two minds, rather than just two filters like we mostly see now.

But imagine a Billy down on his luck, hurt and hiding from police and criminals alike, daydreaming the hours away as children do, taking inspiration from all the superheroes rising to fame, making little stories to play out his dreams of saving the world with a generic action doll he found while dumpster diving once. Most of the paint's rubbed off.

Red's his favourite colour, his comfiest jumper is a bright ruby even after all the grime and washes. Gold, too, it's shiny and warmer than silver! A hero cape is a must, big and eye catching! And he can fly, of course, like superman, and in his daydreams, when he's sore and frustrated after a long day's grind, his superhero is smart enough and knows all the right words to get the bullies to stop without resorting to fighting.

His superhero fantasy is one he spends a lot of time on, the first one he goes for when struggling to sleep at night, and he can picture it so clearly. Captain marvel is big and bright and kind, strong enough to lift the boxes for the old lady up the road who's moving all by himself, fast enough to catch Jamie who fell out of the tree on Saturday and broke his leg and couldn't come to class for weeks. He appears at the entrance to alleys when Billy is cornered, he steps up behind to cover for him when he gets caught shoplifting, he sits at the bus stop with him when it's pouring rain and the right bus doesn't seem to be coming.

And then the wizard comes, or rather whisks him away, and like a magician from a fairytale breathes life into his imaginary friend until Billy feels thrice his size and a million times more invincible.

From then on, captain marvel is a real hero, just like Billy is a real boy, and as one they save the whole city, and then the whole world, and get cats down from trees and help Mrs Victoria move the last of her boxes and she gives them a pinch in the cheek and cookies for the road and sometimes it hurts but it's so much better than he imagined.

#dc comics #captain marvel #dc captain marvel #shazam #billy batson #imaginary friend #imaginary friend au #Billy's great because you can give him the most buck wild adventures with the most self indulgent plots and it makes perfect sense #Batman and superman are out here having mental health crisis no.528 and marvels away having dance offs with gnomes #Billy would fit perfectly into gravity falls he really would #Anyway imaginary friend au is near and dear because it encapsulates that sort of safe fantasy for change and companion ship #And a protective imaginary friend brought to life is going to be just a fascinating character no matter what #And it's the perfect cover for non imaginary cap anyway. Why does he prioritise this kid over everything despite having never mentioned him #Imaginary friends always have to care for their creator! But you can't expect an imaginary friend to do your taxes!#Why is cap so eternally kind and bubbly and a bit childish? That's because his creator is a kid! Duh!#This particular imaginary friend just so happens to have encountered magic and is now real enough to play basketball with asteroids.#He's strong enough to match superman but it's fine he's got a child's heart and an unending protectiveness for humanity.#Just don't try anything with the kid or you're toast.#I love the jl needing to save/help Billy in some way and cap; who's practically the jls puppy mascot at this point #Is just shamelessly and unrepentantly possessive of Billy while being openly wrapped around his finger. Number one fan #Like 'he's the specialist boy and if you don't clap for him I'm going to blow this whole building up' type #Have you read Split on ao3 it's like that. Cap is the most unaffiliated person on the team and then bam Billy is number 1 priority 100%#Go read split if you haven't 10/10 #Like it never crosses caps mind to hinder or harm Billy he is Devoted. Platonic God/worshipper except the deity in question is an 11yo #And the worshipper is the closest thing to a deity without being one you can get in dc.#But like a healthy relationship lmao.#It's a soul deep claim with total freedom on both sides and they teach each other love and they're the same person #AUGH

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lunar-wandering · 3 days

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do y'all think Macaque is falling back into the role that Azure and the others put on him by remaining on the outskirts of the group because he thinks his input/presence is unwanted (and yeah his presence isn't really wanted by MK and the others BUT. something about the fact Macaque is placing himself at the edge of the group, the edge that Azure and the others pushed him to, doesn't really sit well)

#Monkie Kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid spoilers #lmk spoilers #im gonna be completely honest: i think the only reason Mac HASN'T apologized is cause he thinks they wont listen to it #so he's trying to do things WAY more subtly and it's NOT working out #and when i say ''he thinks they won't listen'' i dont mean he thinks they won't forgive him #honestly the group would be split 50/50 between ''forgives him'' and ''suspicious but willing to let him try''#i FULL OUT mean he thinks they won't listen. that they won't even hear his apology and will just talk over/ignore him #or completely misinterpret what he's saying #THAT'S what he thinks #when he was being the villain he was putting on a show. it's HILARIOUS how obvious his actions are a front when you rewatch s1 and s2 #but like?? being actually him?? he does NOT expect them to listen to him when he's just himself #sort of like a. ''if you want people to listen you have to anger/frighten them into paying attention'' kind of mentality #not a good mentality to have #it DOES explain why he reacts Like That whenever someone does something that indicates they DID pay attention though #like. listen hear me out. i do NOT think Macaque expected MK to remember the Warrior thing.#so when MK brought it up it hit him like a truck #also why he reacts like that when Wukong somewhat seriously answers his ''you know this is just the calm before the storm'' question #+ when Wukong says ''we''#cause he does not consider himself part of the group. hence staying on the outskirts #GOD this guy is such a delicious pack of trauma to dissect. thank you lego for giving me not one #not two #but THREE traumatized monkeys to analyze

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kelin-is-writing · 1 year

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imagine babysitting with boyfriend!dabi

you were supposed to spend the day together but shit got in the way and now you were stuck at your relatives’ place and had to look after their kids for the afternoon. dabi was ready to disappear the second you mentioned it but you practically dragged him there by his collar and now he’s sitting on the couch pouting.

he would never admit it but he was worried that the kids might get scared by his appearance. well turns out they absolutely adore him.

it’s definitely annoying him at first that they won’t leave him alone for even a second and keep demanding that he plays with them. you glare at him after a while and he reluctantly gives in.

it starts with them playing with little race car models and they soon switch to drawing messily in one of their coloring books. dabi turns out to be quite the talented artist which you haven’t known until then.

however he draws the line when the kids want to play dress up. he vehemently refuses… for five minutes at least. when you return from the kitchen with snacks for everyone you have to try your absolute hardest not to burst out laughing when you see the sparkly tiara on his head. (you manage to take a picture without him noticing)

he doesn’t admit it but he’s actually having fun and watching you interact with the kids is putting thoughts into his head that he’s never had before. maybe starting a family of your own isn’t as bad of an idea as he used to think.

now all he can think about for the rest of the day is you underneath him with your legs pressed to your chest and the sound of your heavenly moans when he draws orgasm after orgasm from you until he finally cums inside of you. he rly hopes you won’t mind not using a condom this time...

- 🥛

YOU DID NOT JUST DO THIS TO ME—

the way i actually can picture him letting the kids grab onto his arms and then lift them up to spin the two of them around, once he’s done dabi would be dizzy as hell but then there are the kids who starts screaming “again!” “again!” which has him huff tiredly but still comply to what they want because they were having fun and that surprisingly made our arsonist hold back a smile, all this under your amused but still tender grin.

i can also see dabi play with them the ‘see you, can’t see you’ game, after you teach him, and he adores the laughs and giggles those little dwarfs let out when he exclaims “ah! here you are!”, in the most (semi) monotone voice someone could’ve ever hear, but the kids still loved it so much and that just leave him with a tingling sensation inside his chest from how moved he was, but still managed to keep it low or you wouldn’t let him live it down just like with the tiara moment.

once the kids were gone, you two finally alone, dabi is sitting on the couch with dazed eyes looking in front of him and lips slightly parted; when you sit next to him you’re about to ask him what was that face for, after snorting amused, when in a millisecond the villain has you laying beneath him as he hovers over your figure. you look surprised at him, being meet by a stare of pure desire and love that made your heart skip a beat from the intensity “w-what?”, you blurt out confused while glancing back at your boyfriend unsure on what’s gotten into him, then your eyes fell down and widened at the sight of the bulge inside his pants that was now pressing against your lower abdomen “you–?! wha–?!”

“i...”, dabi interrupted you “want to have kids with you princess.”, he confessed in a low husky gentle tone looking away from you with the back of his hand raising in front of his face and you blinked fervently, no because... was this cruel villain blushing right now?!

god he is so damn gorgeous like that, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that you have the most precious boyfriend out there, he’s truly such a gem honestly.

smiling tenderly at his confession you cup his cheeks, making him flinch slightly because of the sudden move, and pull him towards you meeting him halfway to kiss the raven-haired boy on his lips deeply, with an astonishing amount of love that left dabi speechless but yearning for more which is why a second later he was already ravishing yours back with as much passion as you.

when the two of you parted, panting, your hazy eyes locked and you swallowed down before slowly sliding your legs up his sides then closing them around dabi’s waist in a tight grip that pressed his boner against your clothed heat, a groan and moan leaving both your mouths at the friction. licking your lips under his burning gaze you start talking “what are you waiting for then?”, dabi looks with eyes that you can see ask for permission and “fill me up dabi.”, with that accompanied by a roll of your hips against his, he completely lost it.

after this, skins slapping together, pants, groans and moans are the only things that can be heard inside your living room as your man is cumming for the sixth time inside of you, balls deep into your pussy with the tip of his dick pressing hard against the swollen entrance of your womb as he’s spilling his load in complete ecstacy once again while you squirt all over his shaft and onto his pelvis with a pitiful cry, too overstimulated to even form a single syllable.

dabi has his eyes still rolled back into his skill in pure bliss when he hear you slurr about how much seed there’s inside your cunt, his cerulean irises going back to their place immediately before he raises from his hovering position on you with flushed cheeks as he smirks, totally high on you “of course there’s lots...”, and grabbing onto your waist he starts to rut his hips slowly, fucking all his seed into you with eyes clouded by desire “i gotta make sure my princess is filled up to the brim with our babies, right?”, he ends his sentence with a sharp thrust that made you let out a sob while holding onto his forearms for dear life, moaning continuously as dabi kept pounding into you “you can take more of it, i know it baby, i believe in my pretty girl nhgh–”, dabi kept blurting while throwing his head back with a throaty dragged groan at feeling your walls clench around him, hips picking up pace in no time.

letting out a breathy moan he looks down at you with sweat rolling down his temples long his pretty panting face, then he grabs your forearm to rub kind circles on it “i’m gonna make sure it’ll stick this time, so– ugh— bear with me for a little more ‘kay baby?”, you nod absentmindedly, too fucked out to register well what he’s saying to you, making him let out an amused snort at seeing your expression completely melted from the continuous pleasure and overstimulation “good girl, lemme reward you thenhgh—”, and with that another load of his seed was flowing inside of you and deep into your womb.

the pure bliss dabi feels everytime he cums deep in you, the imagery of his white ropes sticking inside your uterus, makes him rock hard all over again. mind completely lost into the ferverish sensation he’s been feeling for hours now thanks to his precious girl.

#kelin responds #answered #🥛#bnha smut #mha smut #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #MILK— JESUS ON CHRIST MILK— YOU KNOW I'M WEAK FOR BREEDING KINK WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?????#dabi hit by a baby fever after realising that he wouldn't mind becoming a parent if you're the mother of his kids it's just so—#this is genuinely EVERYTHING like– he can't imagine anyone else being the mother of his childs ONLY YOU i'm so...#i need dabi to knock me up so bad guys... in these days this is my only mood fr #ALSO— do not misunderstand my post from yesterday guys i LOVE i ADORE kids seriously. they make my day better with just a smile actually 🤧#my cousins are the ones i'm mad at everytime. cause they don't know how to parenting AT ALL #they look more after their phones than their kids 💀

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