Devil May Cry Dante Fanart Novels & Stories

“You never mentioned him.” “There are reasons,” Dante said. “Not all of them mine to explain.” Her gaze flicked back to the painting. “But—this can’t be recent. This is…” “One hundred and fifty-eight years old,” he replied. “Give or take.” She turned to him slowly. “How old are you?” “178,” he said, his expression unreadable. “I stopped aging physically around thirty.” Her mind reeled. She turned back to the painting, then to the other art pieces, her eyes tracing the symbolism in each one. The fangs. The moons. The blood.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

I said, stepping out, trying not to fall with the bleeding heels still in my feet, as they sank into the gravel. Luca walked ahead, not waiting for me. He climbed the stone steps and pushed open the massive front doors without looking back. Dickhead. I followed limping slightly. The interior was as breathtaking as the exterior. Marble floors, dark wood paneling, crystal chandeliers And oil portraits lining the walls. They were the portraits of Moretti ancestors. One portrait caught my eye. It was of a woman with dark hair and silver eyes, painted as she stood in the forest. She was wearing a crown of antlers.

After making her moan and scream in tears, Laura still doesn't want him to stop. She loves this animalistic side of him, not the gentle, timid, good and hypocritical Dante but the real one, the devil inside him, that's what she loves and wants to manifest. "Faster...Dan...te!!!" He continues fûcking her ãsshole till it becomes red in the middle. "Yeah" Dante groans. "Aww" Dante finally pulls out of her ãss, he splashes his spêrm on her ãss and moans out.

I screamed, pulling at the chain that held me to the wall. Dante didn’t spare a glance in my direction as he moved to start carving something into Ronan’s chest. He looked so peaceful and serene carving out his art while Ronan screamed and thrashed against the wall. My throat felt raw from all the screaming and begging and my eyes could not produce any more tears. Dante continued drawing pieces of rubbish all over Ronan until he was covered in blood. He then took a few steps back to admire his art before pulling out his phone and taking a picture.

I knew the Tiger Fang gang was known for having tiger tattoos somewhere on their bodies, but this…it was his whole back and it looked so damn good. He glanced back at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. "You coming in, or are you just going to stand there and gawk?" I stumbled in, closing the door behind me. Dante turned, and I was greeted with a view of his sculpted chest and toned abs. My mind screamed at me to stop staring like an idiot but why the hell was everything about him so…perfect. The devil was supposed to be ugly with horns, but this devil was fucking beautiful. I swallowed hard as my body felt a strange, and felt heat rise up my cheeks.

I made it to the front steps before I heard… “Hold it right there.” If Antarctica had a voice, this was it. I turned slightly, and met the sight of the devil himself glowering at me. Dante had stepped out of the car, looking like a character out of a freaking fantasy novel. His top was undone by half and he had his sleeves rolled up. This guy was sin itself. He tried taking a step towards me and stumbled slightly. Dominic was by his side in an instant, reaching out. “Watch out—”

I asked, enjoying the feeling of Dante’s touch. “They went to the main house to make sure everything was progressing the way it should be, and that all the necessary items were brought here. I drew the short straw, or the best straw.” I went over to the shower bench and sat back down. All I could do was stare at Dante. Dante was about 6’5” tall, he is slightly shorter than the triplets and Benji, but not by much, he has long, lean legs with well-defined quads and calves. Dante has golden brown eyes with flecks of green, he has broad shoulders, and strong biceps. Dante has eight-pack abs, and his hip bones stick out just a little bit. He’s not skinny, he has great muscle tone, but he could us

A massive, real life devil, the literal largest of life killers that ever walked the earth… kneeling before ME. At MY mercy. Hope flicks her tail playfully, and bats her eyes. Dante walks up to Rowan, clearly without any fear at all, and sniffs him. Hope wiggles our nose as the stench of sulfur and burnt skin flitters into our nose. When the devil huffs slightly, actual fucking smoke comes out of his nose. *Ohh man that’s awful,* Hope says, as she fights trying not to show her disgust at the smell. We stand frozen when the devil scoops up Dante’s large body and brings him so their noses rub. Awwww!

The two men tied to the chains, looked up from their bloodied states only to see the devil standing in front of them. "Let the fun begin," Dante smirked, stabbing the first man in the shoulder and twisting his knife a full 180 degrees. The man screamed in unbearable pain and already felt his life slipping away. Dante had dug his knife into the same spot the man was shot at. "How dare you even touch my girl?" Dante gritted every word before dragging the knife to his chest, cutting open all the skin that came in its way. "How dare you even look at her with your filthy eyes?" the man spat some blood before looking in Dante's eyes.