#but perhaps the kid was concealed in the orphanage and this is where the furniture stuff comes in?

[pochapal]

this being the first theory battler has lampshaded and discarded as a joke is making me extremely 👁

[sethrine-writes]

A Kind Face in the Darkness

Fandom:  Devil May Cry 5

Pairing:  Dante x F!Reader

Words:  2518

Warnings:  Minor violence, fluff, blind!reader

Commission Request:  900 words, fluff with slight angst, blind f!reader who works at an orphanage. Dante takes interest in her but is somewhat reserved about his demonic side. The orphanage is attacked, Dante saves the day, and the Reader confronts him about the change in him she could “feel.”

A/N:  This is a commission for the positively lovely @mysticalkhfan! It’s always a pleasure to write for you, dear! Thank you for commissioning me!

------

Dante had always been stealthy when it came to leaving his monthly donation to the local orphanage. The cash was sealed in a thick envelope, no names or writing of any sort scribbled on the white paper. He would sneak in, leave it behind on the front desk for one of the caretakers to find, and leave without so much as passing a smile to a single soul.

He didn’t need recognition or anything like that; deep down in his demonic heart, he truly wanted nothing more than the kids to have a decent living, with food and clothes and toys and whatever necessities the money went toward. From the few times he’d been by in passing, he could tell the caretakers did right by the kids, so anything he could add to their funds to keep them all smiling, he was more than happy to give.

It was no different that month, as he had just dropped off the hefty donation at the front desk, no one else to be seen during such an early hour-

“Oof!”

-or so he thought.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…it’s so early, and no one’s usually walking around this time of day.”

Dante hadn’t expected to run into anyone on his way out, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, or put out. He gave you a quick once-over, cocking an ever-sure smile and shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, can’t say I’ve ever had the best sleeping schedule; too restless.”

“Sounds like some of our children, here,” you answered with a small grin, of which slowly faded into a confused frown.

“By any chance, do you have the time?”

A single brow rose as he glanced behind you at the large clock hanging over the double door entrance.

“The clock behind you says four, but I have a feeling-”

“Yeah, that old thing is off. Means it’s probably around seven, or so. Did Mrs. Monroe let you in early? We normally don’t open the doors for at least another hour.”

Dante gave you another once-over, actually taking the time to really study your features. You were looking at him curiously, but now that he was paying just a bit more attention, he realized that you weren’t quite looking at him. Your eyes were focused in his direction, but they weren’t seeing him.

You were blind.

How peculiar.

“Just stopping by to give a donation,” he answered. “I usually leave it anonymously, though it seems I’ve been caught, this time.”

“Oh, how kind of you,” you answered, smile lighting up your features once more as you leaned in just a bit. “And don’t worry, your anonymity is safe with me. As far as anyone’s concerned, I didn’t see anything.”

The cheeky curl of your lips was not lost to him, and he didn’t feel quite as bad about letting out the chuckle that he had.

There were sounds coming from upstairs suddenly, higher-pitched whines and excited chitterings of waking children as they tried to keep quiet, but ultimately couldn’t. You seemed to be aware of the sounds despite how quiet they actually were, head tilting just slightly to get a better hearing of what was going on. It seemed you compensated for your lack of sight rather well.

“Probably best I go,” Dante spoke quietly, stepping a bit more heavily so that you could track his movements as he made to pass you by.

By sheer luck alone, or perhaps using what senses you could to guess at his location, you reached out and took hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He looked back at you, momentarily surprised.

“Thank you, ah, sir,” you voiced sincerely, quiet and heartfelt. The smile you gave him was just on the side of bashful, but he could only guess as to why.

He smiled back, regardless of you not being able to see it, reaching out and patting your hand in what could have been considered fondness.

“The name’s Dante,” he spoke, “and don’t sweat it.”

---

Dante continued to visit the orphanage more often than his monthly donation. At first, it was every week or so under the guise of wanting to check in on things, when in reality, Dante just thought you interesting and nice to be around. He found himself slowly increasing his visits to every other day over the course of several months, finding time to come around between missions and always ensuring you that he would be back to hackle you some more, should a longer job take him away for some time.

Whatever spell you had put over him that first time meeting, it was always drawing him back to you.

Crazy as it might have seemed, he quite enjoyed your company. Dante found you fascinating, clever and sweet. He enjoyed watching you interact with the children from afar, how you handled them with kindness while still holding a firm, guiding hand during tougher situations.

It amazed him how much you were able to handle with your own handicap, how easily you were able to move about the place without much assistance. Sure, there were moments where you tripped up a bit, but mostly when toys were left within your path, and the children were always quick to apologize and clean up any messes that would hinder your mobility. He’d also be a liar if he said he hadn’t tripped you on more than one occasion, just to be able to catch you with quick reflexes and smooth words at the ready, of which almost always resulted in your amused eye roll.

He couldn’t help but wonder, though, how long you had been a presence at the orphanage that you knew the place like the back of your hand, that the children knew where and how you moved and made a conscious effort to keep things tidy enough for you to traverse the place without hindrance?

It was obvious how much they adored you, and how you, in turn, adored them. You just had that sort of aura about you, it seemed, one that most anyone would come to love. Such an aura was comforting as it was dangerous, and Dante was on the receiving end of just how enamored one could get in your presence.

If things were different…if he didn’t live the life he did, maybe he could have made a conscious effort towards something more than his meager flirting. Instead, he found comfort in your company, in your small talk and gentle smiles and light touches against his hands, and he told himself that was enough for someone like him.

---

Dante planned for a normal visit, having taken your offer to join you and the children for lunch. He’d been lingering around long enough to get to know a good portion of them, at least enough that they knew his name and that he was your “special friend,” whatever that meant.

Even if he hadn’t been invited to join in, he would’ve still paid a little visit. Something about the day wasn’t sitting right with him, and he wanted to check in and make sure everything was all good.

When he entered the brick building, he immediately knew something was wrong. It was far too quiet, no children shouting, no movement at all. He followed the smell of what was supposed to be lunch into the large kitchen, though it seemed it was burning, enough that it almost hid the underlying scent of sulfur lingering in the air.

Almost.

Hushed whispers alerted him to the spacious dining room. Dante moved there next, surprised and relieved to find a couple of groups of older kids protecting the younger ones, hiding beneath tables and using overturned ones to conceal themselves further.

“It’s Dante,” one of them said, voice barely above a whisper, and immediately a few kids poked their heads out, eyes wide with lingering fear and sudden relief.

“Where are the others?” he questioned quickly, coming closer to investigate and make sure there weren’t any major injuries to those present.

“U-upstairs, I think,” one of the older boys stuttered out.

“There was...there was big m-monsters, everywhere!” a little girl exclaimed, tears springing into her eyes as she clung to her sister for comfort.

“Mrs. Monroe fainted!”

“Mr. Krauss got his ass knocked out!”

“Lucas, you can’t say that word!”

The children kept on, becoming quite upset and louder the more they told him what happened. He shushed them as best he could, telling them to stay quiet and keep hiding until he came back, ensuring himself that they were hidden well enough before he continued his trek through the orphanage.

Moving upstairs, he was able to see more substantial damage, such as a massive hole in one of the walls as well as upturned furniture and other signs of struggle.

“Get away from us!”

Dante followed the sudden shouting, coming to a large room filled with overturned bunk beds. In the very back, he could see your injured figure sat upon the floor, arms spread over the expanse of one of the beds as your eyes frantically roved around the room as if trying, in vain, to see the threat of a massive demon coming closer. Beneath the bed, he could just make out tiny hands and scared faces, children you were valiantly trying to protect.

“Hey, ugly! I don’t think you were invited to the party,” Dante taunted, an attempt at getting the demon’s attention away from you. He could see your eyes darting toward the sound of his voice, a mix of emotions lighting your features all at once.

“Dante?”

You barely had the time to get his name out before the demon swatted at you with a massive hand, effectively sending you sliding across the floor as the kids hidden beneath the bed screamed in distress.

He wasn’t sure what came over him in that moment, though seeing you being battered around like nothing but a toy and the sound of crying children were apparently triggering enough to send him straight into his demonic form. There was the familiar prickling heat of the change, the demonic energy hidden within him coursing through his veins rapidly until his body was forced into changing, molding itself into a monstrous being fueled by the need to protect.

Dante barely registered the following fight, if that was what it could be called. The demon that chose to attack the orphanage wouldn’t have stood much of a chance against him as a human, but right then, in his devil trigger, the demon was as good as toast. In less than half a minute, the demon’s demise came in the form of a sword cutting it in two, its body bursting into ashes not but seconds later.

“D-Dante? Dante, is that you?”

He turned abruptly to find you sitting up, looking about you once more in an attempt to pinpoint his presence. With a rumbling call of your name, he alerted you to where he stood, and your unseeing eyes were on him in confusion.

“You…you sound different. Are you alright?”

There was so much that needed to be said, so much that he hadn’t wanted to expose you to, especially not in such a precarious situation. But already, he could hear other demons approaching, and his mind went to the children downstairs that were in desperate need of you.

“Take the children downstairs with the others,” he said. “The way should be clear. No one else is going to get hurt.”

He watched as you carefully directed yourself to the only remaining upturned bed, coaxing the three children from beneath with gentle, hurried words and the promise of safety with the others. He forced the other bedding and frames out of the way to give you a clear shot out of the room, eyes lingering on your retreat and ensuring you found the stairs just as several other demons made their presence known.

They didn’t know what was coming to them.

---

The police got involved, though it was more as damage control than anything else. The injured were being tended to, but luckily, most everyone had managed to come out relatively unscathed, just a few bumps and bruises that would fade over the course of a week. You came out the worst in the bunch, requiring stitches to a cut above an eyebrow as well as sustaining multiple contusions along your body.

It didn’t seem to hinder your ability to find him amongst the others, however, and he was once again surprised just how capable you were without the use of sight.

“What was that?” you asked him, hand reaching out and pressing against his chest, a grounding touch that he reciprocated by reaching up and carefully taking hold of your upper arms, mindful of any possible bruising present.

“Demon attack,” he said matter-of-factly, “one hell of an inconvenience, on a good day. I’m sorry this happened.”

You didn’t seem all that surprised, though considering the shit-storms that Redgrave City had undergone in the past, it was no wonder you were privy to such happenings.

“I’m just glad everyone’s alright,” you breathed out, unseeing eyes barely meeting his chin. “Are…are you alright? Earlier, when you found me and the other children, you, ah…you changed, didn’t you?”

Dante remained quiet, unsure of how to answer without scaring you off. It seemed you weren’t done, anyhow, continuing on almost nervously.

“I-I mean, you were you, and then you were you, but different, if that makes any sense? I heard it in your voice, but before that, I could just…I could feel it, like a change in your aura, or something. You were you, but you were different.”

“There’re…some things you don’t know about me,” he finally admitted.

“Thought it was obvious that I’m willing to learn,” you murmured a bit bashfully, your eyes flicking up to meet his, and for a moment, Dante could swear you saw him. The look on your face was tender, sincere, relieved…beautiful.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into,” he warned, but the message was already clear that you didn’t seem to care, that you were perfectly fine with the way he was, and that was a freeing thought.

“Dante, I may be as blind as a bat, but that doesn’t mean that I-”

Your words seemed to catch in your throat as he reached up to carefully cup your bruised cheek within his hand. You flinched just the slightest but leaned into his palm a moment later, eyes closing momentarily at the contact.

“Thank you,” he said, perhaps a bit too reverently, but it didn’t really matter.

Whatever you were trying to say after was lost in the press of his lips to yours, forgotten with the gentle, affirming caress. The tittering and hushed giggles from little eyes that bore witness were a bit disconcerting, but your following laughter as you pulled away made the moment all the sweeter, as did the over-exaggerated kiss that followed that got a bunch of “ew, gross!” responses from the little ones present.