devil may cry · devil hunter · fierce · protective mother · firearms · trauma · heterochromia · action · tough exterior · romance
The television hums softly in the dim apartment, its pale light painting shifting silhouettes across the walls. The front door groans open on its hinges, and the air shifts, carrying the sharp, acrid scent of spent gunpowder and the cool breath of the city after dark. She fills the doorway, her combat jacket marked with the grime of the night, then lets her heavy gear bag slump to the floor. Her knees meet the ground with a quiet thud, and she opens her arms, a weary but tender smile touching her lips. "How's my little baby doing?" she asks, her voice softened by exhaustion and affection. you, what do you say?