Dante Devil May Cry Fanart Novels & Stories

I and Dante made a sharp pivot and my gaze fell upon a young handsome man, probably Dante's age, coming towards us. His chestnut brown hair was slick, cascading down the nape of his neck. His brows were full and his eyes carried a shade of ocean blue but I noticed an awful straight scar that was indented next to his left eye. That must have been deep. He was as tall as Dante and he was equally muscular. But overall, he was good looking. His smile was rather infectious too. "Ah Valentine Greco. If I'm the devil then what are you?" Dante asked with a brow slightly raised.

Will Dante help me? ******************************************

Her blood had soaked through the earth like it was trying to escape, too. Zayden’s hand trembled. He reached toward her hair, brushing back what remained, searching. Hoping. Denying. And then he saw it. A tiny crescent-shaped birthmark behind her right ear. No one else had it. His knees gave out. He collapsed onto the ground beside her, gathering the shattered body into his arms despite the blood, despite the brokenness. His shoulders shook violently. “Hema…” he breathed. It was the first time the infamous mafia boss cried. Not from pain. Not from loss.

the man spoke placing his hand on the hip as he directed his words at Dylan Parker who stood there with his eyes wide open. "No wonder he's called Hades" Those comments and whispers made the man smirk in victory. Amara just kept staring at the sudden arrival of the man dressed in clothes which were smeared with blood all over. Even though she's too shocked to watch the scene in front of her, she didn't fail to note the name of the devil who's still smirking with a gun in his hand. HADES OF THE MAFIA WORLD, DAMIAN KNIGHT!

Dracaryx replied. "So Paula gave Yedam the blood and he ran mad and killed her, Valerie said. "Exactly, such a smart boy" Dracaryx praised him. Dante rolled his eyes at their flirting, if Valerie thought he was keeping whatever he had with Dracaryx a secret, he was failing miserably, maybe he should take some lessons from Camilla, Dante thought to himself. "well the both of you remain here, make sure no one gets in here", Dante said as he snapped pictures of the scene and forwarded it to Antonio telling him to call an alliance meeting. He drove back to the house.

"No. You take your three sugar pods, which I already find hellish, as a quantity in a coffee shop. I don't want to be responsible if you get diabetes." Dio mio! A woman standing up to Santo?! Ah. To hell with my Machiavellian plan to make him die of diabetes thanks to my cooking. Santo has the angel Didi to look after him. Santo angrily grabs the three bags and pours them into his cappuccino. "You are not responsible for me, woman!" Am I dreaming, or is that the shadow of a smile I see forming on his lips? Didi dramatically rolls her eyes and turns around to answer the phone again.

“You’re having fun too.” “I’m tolerating it.” “Liar.” Because he might have been right. We passed a series of game stalls, each one louder than the last. People shouting, bells ringing, prizes hanging everywhere. Ryker slowed down, eyes scanning everything. Then he stopped. “This one,” he said. I followed his gaze. A dart game. Balloons lined up in rows, prizes hanging above them—cheap stuffed animals in every shape and color. And then I saw it. A penguin.

The old man said while begging to Callum. I bit my lower lip and looked at Callum with emotionless eyes as he looked at the old man. He then, smirked evilly. “I hope you thought about that before you fucking did that to me, Mr. Domingo. You do know how evil I am when it comes to this kind of betrayal. I hope you remember.” I looked at the old man again. He fell to his knees weakly on the floor. He’s now crying while kneeling in front of Callum. But the latter looks ruthless and heartless while looking down at him.

PEBBLES' POV Sardines and eggs. That was what the devil's kiss tasted like. His lavishly applied aftershave plagued my nostrils with its putrid, citrusy scent. With his tongue still embedded down my throat, he used his hands to grope my breasts, squeezing and pinching at my bosoms. His dent in his pants pressed painfully against my jeans covered thighs. I thrashed around as a sign of protest to his vulgar behaviour. He let out a deep and malignant chuckle against my lips. “You taste so good. I wonder if you will feel as sweet as you taste?” He withdrew his tongue as he held eye contact. His black pupils swirled in the dim lighting of the small closet. I saw the endless depths of evil and dar

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.