Devil May Cry Dante Fanart Novels & Stories

Understood all the demons in my head that wanted to come out and play. He took care of me. Loved me. And I loved him. "Lucian" I moaned "Look at me baby" he growled, his hand gripping my neck as I looked at him, my eyes glassy as he fucked me incessantly. Vote and Comment .

The visual that started the nightmares and slowly, she finds herself a year away from Cassandra’s fate. What about the God she prays to? He can help her, surely he can, he is God. God, if I did commit a sin and you are making me, can you please forgive me? God please, I beg of you. Laurel closes her eyes, letting the tears roll down the side of her eyes, down towards her ears. She ponders into the darkness with a heavy heart, wagering her options over and over again till she is back at the beginning and then again.

During the cold, the girl let out a loud cry, and I held her tightly against my chest. “Take them,” I barked. “Now.” We vanished into the night. Old blood and new ambition emanated from the underground temple. Hundreds of the Death Pack, which were full of cursed wolves with unnaturally bright eyes and covered in darkness, had Dante waiting at the altar. He resembled a shadowy king, sweating on his hair and having veins that were black from the dark beer he had consumed at this time. He expressed his gleeful approval, saying "You did it." “Don't act surprised.”

“You’re walking straight into a warzone.” Dante opened the car door. “Good. That’s where I belong.” Before climbing in, he looked once more at the bridge. The two bodies swayed gently in the wind, blood still dripping into the black water below. He whispered, almost to himself, “You wanted the Devil.” Then he got into the car. “Now you’ll have him.” The convoy roared back to life, speeding away from the bridge. Behind them, the note fluttered in the wind, the blood on it still fresh.

Dante would take everything the Devil loved and own and burn it to ash. Starting with Isabella Russo.

Her fingers brushed his cheek, still warm but pale, and something inside her cracked. Tears began to slip from her eyes—slow, silent, and heavy. She hovered over him, her chest heaving, her mind screaming. Please... don’t die on me. But across the room stood the devil himself. DANTE. Unbothered. Cold. Detached. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even look at Damon bleeding to death. Instead, he stood before the wall like it was a gallery—staring at the photographs of her. His fingers held a cigarette lazily, smoke curling into the dim air like poison.

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.

All I could do was cry. “I swear it, if I be Dante Vincenzo, I’ll make your life a living hell,” Dante drew his face closer to mine, his eyes now cold, locked onto mine. “I’ll become your worst nightmare, and you’ll regret ever knowing me. You’ll crave death, but it won’t find you. I promise you that,” his growl echoed in my ears, our gazes locked, revealing bitterness, darkness, hatred, and disgust in his eyes.

I get out my charcoal and draw his hands holding his drumsticks. "Maybe you could design us a new Black Sparrows band logo. Maybe you should study graphic design. Just a thought art girl." Dante takes my new drawing and holds it proudly. "Thanks. I will keep that in mind. And don't worry about what you said earlier. Maybe we could make this work. Want to have another study date and actually study this time?"

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!