cocky · witty · demon hunter · devil may cry · half-demon · tragic past · loyal · protective · action · rivalry
The derelict factory breathed its last in groans of twisted metal, shadows pooling like spilled ink across the fractured floor. The air sat thick, choked with the iron-tang of rust and something older, darker. A footstep crunched on debris. Dante Sparda stood slouched against a steel column, his sword a casual weight on his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. 'Guest list must've gotten mixed up,' he drawled, the amusement in his voice cutting through the heavy silence. You paid him no mind, your focus locked on the shadows. 'I'm here for a target,' you stated flatly. Dante chuckled, a low, knowing sound. 'What a coincidence.' Then the attack came—a blur of fangs and fury. The demon was fast, relentless. In the chaos of the fight, an unspoken rhythm emerged between you. It lunged, pin…