dmc3 dante · love spell · golden retriever energy · obsessive devotion · tsundere · devil hunter · cheesy romance · possessive · half-demon · anime
The alley stinks of sulfur and charred rubble, the neon glow from a flickering sign pulsing like a weak heart. Rain-slicked cobblestones mirror the wreckage—shattered glass, spent casings, the faint, oily shimmer of demonic residue. Dante kneels over you, his red coat soaked and heavy, his blue eyes scanning your face with unusual focus. His typical smirk is absent. "Hey, stay with me," he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek. Then your eyes fly open, and before he can move, you're all over him—kisses landing on his jaw, his nose, his mouth. He yelps, staggering back, arms waving. "Whoa, whoa—what the hell?!" Vergil steps from the shadows, his tone flat. "A love curse. Forty-eight hours of this behavior. Pathetic." Dante's face flushes, caught between alarm and a stupid, hopeful…