Darkcat5923 - Untitled

Hello, author. Would it be possible to request an established relationship Dante or Vergil x feminine male!reader who has emotional dependency and who, for years, was almost like a prostitute/courtesan to demons ? The reader tends to make a lot of sexual advances out of fear of being abandoned and not being desirable enough for their boyfriend. The reader has a devoted, polite, and gentle personality, with a mix of fluff and hurt to comfort if possible. I hope this request doesn't make you uncomfortable, dear author, Have a good day 🌷

DEVIL MAY CRY - DANTE SPARDA | VERGIL SPARDA

The requested scenario for BOTH of the twins :3

WORDCOUNT: Around 1k for each

Authors Note: Visit my Ko-Fi if you want to support me, or if you want to comission a personalised, private story!

Dante x feminine!Male!Reader | established relationship

Dante knew what you were like. He knew the way you acted, what you usually were like around him, the things you'd do and say. In just a few months, he'd learned to read you like a book. Dante also knew your past. You'd opened up about it slowly, timid about his reaction, even though you knew he wouldn't judge you. You couldn't help it, really. Life had prepared you to be expecting everything and everything.

Emotionally dependent reader Former demon prostitute/courtesan reader fear Of abandonment Reader: devoted, polite, gentle Fluff/ Hurt Comfort

When you had told Dante that you'd practically been a prostitute for Demons, he'd been mad. Not at you, never at you, more so at anyone that dared to give you bad experiences in life. Dante had figured that you weren't completely trauma free - you were hanging around him, after all - but he hadn’t expected anything like what you opened up to him about.

Something Dante had started to notice these last few days, though, is how you seemed to always cling to him, how you tried to initiate intimate moments more often, the way you'd look at him every time he wasn't in the mood. He hadn’t minded at first, hell, in all honesty, he liked how active you were, but after a while he noticed your patterns. You initiated intimacy whenever either of you had been upset at the other, or whenever he hadn't been able to hang out with you as much as usually, whenever he was too busy… It became a little suspicious. You'd get upset whenever he'd reject, seemingly more at yourself than at him.

One evening was especially bad. He'd been out for a long mission, drained and hungry, covered in blood. You'd come to him, humming about taking a shower, gingerly wrapping your arms around him, lips pressed against his neck. He sighed, knowing that while he loved when you were like this, he really just wanted to shower and then pass out in bed. He told you as much as he parted with you, pressing a swift kiss against your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

He found you later, once he'd gotten dried up and dressed in his sleep clothes - which were only acceptable and without holes because you'd pushed him to get some proper pyjamas instead of sleeping in his boxers and old shirts all the time. The lights in your shared hoke were turned off, but you weren't in bed. Usually, you'd have a few lights or candles on while you snuggled up on the couch. Lights off was only for bedtime with you.

You still sat on the couch, though, sniffling softly to yourself. Dantes whole face fell as he realised you were crying. “...Love, what's wrong..?” He muttered as he stepped towards you, carefully seating himself beside you. You sniffled again, immediately smuggling against him. “... do you not love me…?” You mumble, voice muffled by his shirt as you press your face into his shoulder. Dante almost thinks he didn't hear you right, wrapping his arms around you, pressing you against his chest. “Baby, my dear sweet boy, why would you think that…?” He questions, running his fingers through your hair. “...you don't want me…” You sob, tears staining Dantes shirt. The gears in his head started turning as he pulled you into his lap. “Love, listen to me. I love you. I want you, all the time, but sometimes I'm tired, or I'm not in the mood, not because I don't love you anymore, it just happens, yeah?” He mumbles, pressing a few soft kisses against the top of your head. You're still sniffling, so he tilts your head a little to kiss your forehead too.

“I just… whenever you don't want me I think you don't love me-” You start, new tears dwelling in your eyes as you look up at him. He shushes you, gently brushing your tears away. He slipped his fingers into your hair, gently running his digits through the soft strands, twirling them around the tips carefully.

“I swear to you, I will never stop loving you. You dont even need to think that, yeah? You're so much more than your body, and our relationship is so much more than just physical, you hear me?” He hums, keeping his voice careful and gentle yet the way he looked into your eyes left no room for discussion.

You press your face into his shoulder again, clinging to his shirt as you let the last few tears slip down your cheeks. You knew he meant it, but it was so hard to genuinely believe. “My sweet boy…” Dante sighs, placing yet another kiss against the top of your head, breathing in before pulling away, consoling you with a hand on your back. “I love you. I always will, yeah?” He mumbles against your hair, softly tugging you closer as he feels your hands tangle into his shirt - somehow you still managed to be mindful of not bunching it up too much.

He let you calm down slowly, murmuring soft words and pressing gentle kisses whereever he could reach. The moonlight softly shone into the living room, illuminating the scene in its gentle light. It took you a while to properly calm down, sniffling softly, stray tears staining Dantes shirt. “You wanna go to bed..?” The white haired mumbles, gently carding his fingers through your hair. You nod after a moment, clinging to him. He chuckles lightly, wrapping his arms around you so he could pick you up and carefully carry you to bed. “My clingy boy, hm? You're so sweet… so adorable…” Dante mumbles carefully as he laid you down, smiling as he snuggled against you, wrapping the blankets around you in the way he knew you liked.

“I love you…” you mutter softly, feeling him press a kiss against your forehead. “I love you too… get some sleep, love, mhm?” Dante responds, pressing a kiss against your forehead, letting you drift off to sleep in his arms, feeling like the happiest man in the whole world.

Vergil x feminine!Male!Reader | established relationship

Emotionally dependent reader Former demon prostitute/courtesan reader fear Of abandonment Reader: devoted, polite, gentle Fluff/ Hurt Comfort

Vergil wasn't usually this concerned about you. You were his boyfriend, indeed, but you could take care of yourself, no matter how much trouble you got yourself in with your niceness. So, he never worried about you. Not much, anyway. There was a reason you were his boyfriend, and not anyone else. Behind that facade of pure and utter gentleness was still a strong will. However, lately you had been acting… off. Vergil hadn't noticed at first - he had been a lot busier these last few days, he didn't have the time to indulge in your unimportant desires. Sex wasn't something he needed, nor wanted regularly. Not by now, anyway. He did accept that he had been… Impulsive, before.

What Vergil had noted early into your relationship, was how needy you were. You wanted to be around him most of the time, touch him in one way or another. It was important to you, he knew that. He did let you have your moments, did let you be all over him for an hour or two, but he was a busy man, always had been, and you had to deal with that. It wasn’t about Vergil being heartless, more about him having clear boundaries you just had to accept. He was a lot different from you, after all. He needed his time to himself, to think, to plan, to just rest and relax. You often seemed to dislike his habits, but you never said anything. Never even as much as shoot him a nasty glance, you always stayed calm and soft. Vergil liked that about you, you were pliant. Soft.

This evening was only slightly different. Vergil had come home late, feeling tired and defeated after having learned that yet another of his plans wouldn't work out the way he had strategised. His hair was out of place, blue eyes already zoned out as he perfected his plan. You had made dinner, grinned at him widely as he stepped through the door, doting on him the second he had shrugged off his coat. Soft kisses against his cheeks, hands brushing over his sides - he knew these signs, knew they meant that you wanted him. He let you lead him to the kitchen, ate a few bites of the rather delicious food you made. Your foot nudged his under the table, he scowled slightly. “My dear, I don't think I've got time for.. this behaviour tonight.” He hums nonchalantly, as if telling you about the weather, as if it didn't make your whole world crumble just a little more. You don't answer, simply get up, mutter something about not being hungry anymore and hide away in the bedroom.

He didn't love you. You were so sure of that now. Surely, he was too busy thinking of everything but you. That's why he always stayed in his study. That's why he came home late, and didn't even give you a kiss whenever he stepped through the door. You knew Vergil was… special, but this wasn't being special. This was him blatantly not wanting you. It hurt you, it hurt like hell. You wanted him, wanted to love him, to show him how good you could be, but he wouldn't let you. Wouldn't let you give him what you knew he surely also needed - he was a man, after all. He couldn't be that different from the other men you'd met throughout your life.

You'd learn, though, that Vergil was indeed very different. You'd snuggled into the covers of your shared bed, sniffling softly. You weren't loud, too afraid of accidentally letting the man a few doors away know you were being such a crybaby about this simple situation. Tears stained your pillow - you had half a mind to think about having to turn it to the other side once you'd try to sleep. It didn't come to that, however. What it came to, was Vergil walking in after long hours in his study, late at night. You had frozen up once the door opened, tears still running down your cheeks.

You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around you - he was actually cuddling against you. Something he usually never did. Did he… think you were asleep? You felt him place soft kisses against your jaw and the back of your neck, a soft smile on his lips. “My pretty boy…” He mumbles, voice deep from exhaustion. “So damn adorable… All mine…” He continues, snuggling his face into your hair comfortably. Vergil was weirdly clingy, arms wrapped around you tightly as he pressed lazy kisses against the skin he could reach. You don't dare to move, not wanting to ruin this moment, too scared Vergil would act like nothing happened and just pull away.

You basked in the moment for a few minutes, feeling Vergil rest and breathe against you - this has probably been the closest he's ever stayed to you for this long. “...you know I love you, right…?” Vergil suddenly mumbles, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He halts, huffing. “...were you crying?” He scowls slightly. You didn't know what to answer - had he not thought you were asleep? Did he know you had been awake the whole time and still snuggled so close to you? “...sorry…” You mutter silently, wiping the remnants of your tears away in an attempt to hide them. “Why were you crying?” Vergil questions, sitting up a bit. “Just.. nothing important..” you answer, trying to dodge the question - Vergil wouldn't take it, though. “Answer me.” He huffs coldly. “... just… Sometimes it feels like.. you don't want me…” You mumble, voice so silent you almost think he didn't hear you. Vergil doesn't answer for a moment, before he sighs heavily. “... I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't… realise how much I… hurt you. I will be better in the future, I promise you.” He speaks, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “You will never cry because of me again, I promise it. I'm sorry, love.” He sighs, snuggling back against you. “I think I just… needed some time to get used to… This… but, I really do love you… Even if I dont show it that much…” You sigh in relief, pressing against him, worries lifted - or at least you know they'll be worked on from now.

May I recommend this Star Wars fanfic?

Darth Vader Goes to Therapy by @ladyvader23

"After a mission gone very wrong, Vader is forced into court mandated therapy to calm the concerned citizens of the galaxy. His assigned therapist? The only one who would take him: brand new therapist Luke Lars."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241868/chapters/63873559

Great, cracky fic about the importance of not stopping one's Sithy medications without advice from the medical droid, boundaries, recognizing grooming, trauma, and surviving said trauma.

Therapist Luke Lars "I prefer another name" is determined to help everyone who seems to need therapy, and is willing to accept help. (Imperials and members of the Alliance, alike. )

Despite the cracky start, there are some parts of this fic that will make you cry. (Plus, Darth Vader, high, gleeful, on a hoverboard, in a tie dye cape is not to be missed.)

Adding- it also has Palpatine death! And exactly how Palpatine is killed is awesome. Hint- neither Vader nor Luke kills Palpatine.

Definitely go read this fic when you get a chance.

Bouncy Gwaystwipe!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡

The remake's pretty cool.

I just kept thinking of hot topic when i saw some of their costumes. Leon's villain outfit can get it ngl.

underrated criminal minds duo

bimbo mods for male game protagonists are the modern worlds greatest creation

Discreet

Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk

Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader

Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.

Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?

"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.

Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."

In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.

I'm bored.

You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.

Another vamp case isn't enough for you?

You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.

"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."

"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"

Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.

You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.

"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."

Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.

right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.

A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.

You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.

"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.

"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.

Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."

Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.

I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.

You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.

Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.

Everything alright, sweetheart?

His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.

What else would you do?

You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.

I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...

It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.

Your phone buzzes with a new message.

I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.

The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?

Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" he asks generally.

Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.

"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.

It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.

Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.

You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?

He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.

I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.

The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.

You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?

Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.

No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.

Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?

The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.

Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.

You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.

Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.

Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.

You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.

You're mean

Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."

The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"

"This is important-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.

You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.

The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."

Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.

You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.

Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.

Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?

He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.

You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.

Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.

This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.

If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?

The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.

The reply is short, It feels good, sir.

Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.

I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.

A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.

He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.

After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.

You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.

"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.

Another text pops up on your screen.

It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.

Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.

I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.

He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.

You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?

Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.

I want you to fuck me.

Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.

Needy little slut.

It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.

You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.

You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.

I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.

The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.

He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.

I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.

A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.

Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?

Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.

Prude.

Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.

"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"

Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"

The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.

"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"

Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.

You're mean

You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.

I know. But, you like it.

Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!

Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!

-Bunny

resting after a mission

Part 3

Ace the Bat-Hound, and his faithful sidekick, Titus the Bird-Hound!!

Steph and Dick dressed them up without Damian’s knowledge and therefore rage. Also why the wall is purple, because Steph’s room.

Also i like the headcanon that Ace secretly sneaks out at night to take young Titus on missions and train him to be a proper ‘Bat-Hound’. Or just teaches him how to handle all their rowdy and chaotic masters, like calming Jason down or helping Alfred (both cat and human) lick clean the floors or sitting on Tim in bed so he’s forced to go to sleep.

Reblogs appreciated!! <3