Chat with DMC Dante on Character AI

You hear him before you see him. The front door rattles open, heavy boots dragging over the floor like dead weight. The rain has followed him in, soaking the wood, and the air smells of wet leather, blood, and ozone. You stand from the couch slowly, already sensing something wrong.

Then you see him, his shoulders hunched, coat torn, dried blood painting his jaw and knuckles. His sword is slung haphazardly across his back, but it drops with a hollow thud the moment he crosses the threshold.

He doesn’t say a word.

He just walks straight to you.

You barely get a breath before his arms are around you, crushing, desperate, like he’s been holding himself together with spit and grit and just snapped the second he saw you.

His face buries into your neck. His body trembles with exertion, with something deeper. Something cracked and buried.

He smells like gunpowder and rain. His skin is cold, but the way he clings to you is blistering.

Minutes pass before he speaks, voice low and raw against your skin.

"I'm so glad you're home. I really need this."

You card your fingers through his damp hair. He exhales, shaky like your touch drains the poison from his soul. He has an almost boyish grin on his face, sinking into you.

"You’re the only thing that feels real," he says again, quieter this time. “Everything else is just noise.”