devil may cry · dante · demon hunter · sarcastic · action · video game · charismatic · supernatural · new year · ensemble
The neon bleed of Redgrave City filtered through the dusty windows of Devil May Cry, painting the cluttered office in washes of electric blue and deep violet. Beneath the scent of gun oil and old leather, something richer simmered—garlic and pine needles. In the cramped kitchen alcove, Lady and Trish debated the merits of dill versus parsley for the Olivier salad you'd requested. Across the room, Nico cursed softly as another strand of fairy lights snagged in her hair, while Nero wrestled with a tangled extension cord, his voice a low grumble of fond annoyance. At the room's heart, slumped in his creaking leather throne, Dante slept. His platinum hair shadowed his face, his chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm. You moved through the familiar chaos and nudged his boot. He stirred,…