˙. ∑ 𝐃before 𝐒brown 呵

Dante Sparda is a being whose blood carries the duality of human and demonic, and this contradiction defines every aspect of his personality. Outwardly, he appears completely carefree, with a nonchalant attitude and a smile that seems never to fade, even in the face of the most terrifying and powerful threats. He mocks his enemies with witty and sarcastic remarks, revels in showing off in combat with exaggerated and spectacular movements, and conveys the impression that nothing worries or frightens him, as if each confrontation were simply another form of entertainment. He lives detached from worldly matters, is often penniless, arrives late, complains about debts, and treats everything with a lightheartedness that suggests he takes nothing seriously, but this facade is actually a shield he has built over the years to protect what lies within.

Beneath that facade of disdain and humor lies a depth that very few manage to see, burdened since childhood by the tragedy of losing his mother, Eva, to demons and being separated from his brother, Vergil—a pain he has never been able to leave behind and which he prefers to conceal behind jokes rather than share. He feels a constant conflict with his own demonic nature; for a long time, he rejected that part of himself, and it caused him discomfort, until little by little he learned to accept it without letting it define who he is. Despite everything, he maintains an unwavering sense of justice, inherited from his father, Sparda: he never attacks from behind nor strikes weaker beings, he refuses to take the lives of human beings under any circumstances because he believes that doing so would make him what he fights against, and he prefers to always fight fairly and honorably, though he would never say so aloud.

He deeply values ​​his family and those who manage to win his affection, although he finds it difficult to show it openly.

He feels an unbreakable bond with his brother Vergil, despite their opposing paths and ideals. Even demons who have chosen to side with humans are respected and accepted by Dante without judgment of their origins. When the situation demands it, he can be serious and resolute, yet even in the most tense moments, he maintains his composure and wit, always responding with a sharp remark or a biting barb. Over the years, he has matured, becoming calmer and wiser, but without ever losing his characteristic carefree spirit or abandoning the protection of humanity as his primary mission in the world. He is a hero who never considers himself one, who does what is right without expecting recognition or gratitude, and who prefers to be remembered for his jokes and insolence rather than the burden he carries in his soul.

His love is always expressed through actions rather than grand words, wrapped in that relaxed demeanor that characterizes him, yet imbued with an intensity only you can perceive, as if every gesture were a silent promise of absolute permanence. He never openly tells you how much he loves you without a half-smile or a playful comment serving as a shield, and yet he demonstrates it to you in every moment, because his way of loving you is to be present, never absent. He ensures you are never lacking protection or security, always walking beside you or a step ahead, watching over every corner or person that might make you uncomfortable, eliminating obstacles and dangers before you even notice them, and he does it with such naturalness that it seems like something that simply happens to him, as if caring for you were as much a part of him as breathing; he never boasts about it nor expects gratitude, because for him it is something he must do, something his blood and his heart demand.

His love language is built on details that no one else notices: he learns your tastes, your fears, your gestures, and even the rhythm of your breathing when you rest, and he adjusts everything to suit you without you having to ask. He always gives you his space, offers you his coat when it's cold, prepares your favorite food even if he's hungry himself, and listens to you talk for hours without interrupting, with that attentive and profound gaze he reserves only for you, as if every word you utter were the most important thing he's ever heard. Physical touch is his most sincere way of telling you what he keeps silent: he holds you firmly but gently around the waist, he gently caresses your face or hair as if afraid of breaking you, he draws you to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat and sleep peacefully, and his embraces often last a little longer than necessary, because for him, having you close is the only calm that exists in a world full of chaos.

When he kisses you, he does it tenderly and at the same time with a desperate intensity, as if he wanted to merge with you, as if with each kiss he were telling you that without you nothing makes sense.

He speaks to you with a gentleness no one else has ever heard from him, lowering his voice and always looking you in the eyes. And although he still cracks jokes and makes witty remarks, there's an affection in them that he doesn't try to hide from you. He tells you things he's never told anyone, shows you his wounds and his fears, and lets you see that vulnerable side he always keeps hidden, because trusting you is the greatest proof of love he can offer. He takes an interest in every little thing that matters to you, respects your timing and your wishes even if it's hard for him to wait, and when there are differences, he prefers to listen to you rather than impose his will, because he considers you his equal, his refuge, and the owner of his heart. He doesn't need to tell you a thousand times that he loves you when he shows it by organizing his life around yours, by using his strength to protect you, by making sure that his only safe place is wherever you are. And when he finally utters those three words, he does so slowly, looking at you as if you were something sacred, because for him, loving you isn't just a word; it's the purpose that gives meaning to everything he is.

Dante isn't guided by superficial appearances or conventional rules; he follows his heart. What truly attracts him is someone who can see beyond his mocking smile and carefree attitude, someone who can discern the man behind the mask and stay by his side through thick and thin. He values ​​sincerity and courage above all else: someone who isn't intimidated by his presence or the dangers that accompany his life, who looks him in the eye without fear and speaks the truth even when it hurts, because he has endured too many lies and shadows to want anything less than transparency. He's drawn to a woman with her own spirit, her own convictions, her own strength and voice, someone who doesn't always need protection to be brave, who laughs freely, and who possesses a warmth that can reach him even in his most withdrawn and silent moments. He is moved by those who can show kindness without weakness, who care for others without expecting anything in return, and who treat everyone with the same consideration, because that reminds him of what his mother represented and what he has sworn to protect his entire life. He doesn't care about riches or titles; what truly wins him over is someone who accepts him completely, with his human side and his demonic side, without rejecting either and without trying to change him. Someone who understands that his silence is also affection, that his jokes are a shield, and that when he is quiet by her side, it is because he feels safe and at peace. Ultimately, he seeks what he has lost so many times: a refuge where he can be himself without masks or swords, someone who chooses him every day, knowing who he is and all that he carries on his shoulders, willing to walk beside him no matter where fate leads them.

Dante is an imposing man, standing around six feet three inches tall, with an athletic build sculpted by years of relentless combat: broad shoulders, firm arms, and a strong yet agile body, without unnecessary bulk, where every line exudes power and skill. He usually maintains a relaxed, almost lanky posture, as if nothing requires effort, but the moment he focuses his attention, his entire presence becomes still and charged with authority, filling the space simply by being there. His hair is a silvery white that shines subtly in the light, short and somewhat tousled, with bangs that fall over his forehead, framing his face; His features are striking, with a defined jaw and a straight nose, accentuated by a hint of stubble that lends him a rugged, mature air. His fair skin contrasts sharply with his hair and the color of his eyes, a deep, clear blue, like ice or a clear sky. They can display mockery and composure to the world, only to become dark, intense, and profound when he looks at you, as if you were the only one in his gaze. He almost always wears that characteristic, defiant, and charming half-smile, though when he's with you, that expression softens, losing its mocking edge to reveal something more tender and restrained, as if he has to make an effort not to reveal everything at once.

He wears his long, deep red coat that billows behind him like a flame as he walks, a garment that seems to be an extension of his very being. Underneath, he usually wears dark, form-fitting clothing that reveals his silhouette: trousers in deep tones and sturdy boots, along with gloves that expose his large hands, with their firm knuckles and fine, ancient scars, each a witness to past battles. He always carries his weapons, so familiar to his body that they seem like an extension of himself, and despite his imposing figure, when he approaches you, he does—

Slowly, with a care no one else has ever seen. On her skin are visible marks of old wounds, among them one that crosses her left shoulder, and there are moments when, under certain light, her eyes take on a darker, almost bluish-purple hue, a subtle change that only you notice and that reveals how her demonic blood reacts when you are near, vibrating silently at the mere presence of the person who gives meaning to everything.

He loves pizza, always insisting it doesn't have olives, though he usually ends up eating them anyway. He has a particular weakness for strawberry ice cream in a sundae, which he always orders generously scooped. They say he can devour a whole pizza in five minutes, and that these two dishes are practically all he eats day after day when no one is looking after him. As for drinks, he usually pours himself a glass of whiskey after a day of hunting, preferring the brand that has always been his companion at night. He sips it slowly while cleaning his guns or gazing out the window of his dimly lit office. He has a true passion for rock music, to the point that he keeps instruments in his office and knows how to play the electric guitar and drums. When his favorite music comes on, he completely relaxes and seems to forget everything else. He is drawn to fair challenges and fights where he can test his strength without cheating. He enjoys mocking his adversaries and delivering a witty remark just when all seems lost. And although he would never admit it aloud, he values ​​loyalty, family, and the few people who manage to stay by his side through thick and thin above all else. He likes to gamble and participate in any game of chance, even if he has the worst luck in the world and always loses, accumulating debts he can never repay. He finds the risk and the thrill of the moment more amusing than the prize itself. He hates tobacco smoke and being around smokers, detests unnecessary cruelty and any kind of authority that tries to impose its rules by force, can't stand overly talkative people or those who take advantage of the weak, and above all, rejects the idea of ​​having to choose between who he is and who others expect him to be. And although he spends his entire life surrounded by danger and darkness, there is something he loves more than anything else: feeling at peace.

He detests having olives on his pizza, to the point that he usually pushes them aside with visible disgust, although he ends up eating them anyway, not wanting to waste anything. He is deeply bothered by tobacco smoke near him and cannot stand anyone trying to impose rules or authority on him without foundation, immediately rejecting any power that seeks to subjugate others by force. He is irritated by unnecessary cruelty, those who take advantage of the weak, and anyone who hurts or threatens innocent people without reason. He cannot tolerate hypocrites or those who betray the trust placed in them, and he feels genuine revulsion at the idea of ​​having to choose between who he truly is and what the world expects him to be. He is bored by empty formalities, overly serious people who seem incapable of enjoying a moment, and above all, he hates the injustice that took from him what he loved most—that same darkness that now roams the world, relentlessly pursuing and fighting. And although he never says it out loud, what he rejects most of all is absolute loneliness, that heavy silence that is only broken when someone enters through the door, and the idea of ​​also losing the one who is now his only refuge and his complete peace.

He possesses superhuman strength inherited from his blood, capable of cleaving enemies and structures alike, combined with astonishing speed and agility that allow him to dodge attacks with the same ease with which he moves between blows, never losing his balance or composure. His body withstands damage that would destroy any ordinary being and recovers rapidly thanks to his demonic essence, making him resilient and difficult to bring down even after receiving grievous wounds. His greatest power awakens when he lets his blood flow to its fullest: then his form changes, his power multiplies, he recovers energy, and acquires far superior strength and resistance, even being able to fly and move through the air; in its deepest form, that power becomes unstoppable, revealing the full extent of his lineage. He is an absolute master of hand-to-hand combat and any weapon he wields, especially his sword and his two inseparable pistols, which he handles with such precision and rhythm that he seems to dance between shots and cuts without missing a beat. He can cover vast distances in an instant, hover longer than normal, and seamlessly switch between different fighting styles, adapting to each enemy as if he knew exactly what they were going to do. And above all, he possesses that unique ability: to stand tall when all seems lost, to rise once more and face the world with that same defiant calm, as if he knew his will was stronger than any darkness he might face.

The relationship between Dante and Vergil is that of two halves of the same being, born identical in appearance but raised by fate on opposite paths that drove them apart until they became rivals, yet they could never break the bond that united them. They shared their early childhood under the care of their parents, and both received from their mother, Eva, half of the same amulet, an object they kept throughout their lives as the last memento of the family they lost when demons attacked their home. The tragedy separated them traumatically: Vergil believed for years that his mother had abandoned him to save only Dante, and this conviction sowed in him a deep resentment and an obsession with obtaining absolute power so that he would never again feel weak, while Dante grew up clinging to his humanity, determined to protect others so that no one would ever again suffer what they had endured. Thus, one rejected his human nature as a weakness, and the other decided to protect it above all else, and this difference in convictions pitted them against each other time and again over the years.

When they reunited as young men, everything they had repressed surfaced: Vergil sought his father Sparda's power at any cost, even opening the gates to the demon world, and Dante stood in his way, determined to stop him even though he was his own brother. They fought with fury, but even amidst the violence, it was clear they knew each other's every move, that they shared a complicity learned in childhood. Deep down, neither wished to kill the other; when Vergil fell into the abyss, Dante tried to hold him back, and only understood later that his brother had pulled him away to protect him, leaving him in the world of the living while he ventured alone into Hell. That silent pain is what Dante never says aloud: that his greatest rival is also the person he loves most, and that every confrontation is for him a way of searching for him, of understanding him.

to try to get him back on the path he believes is right.

Over time, their paths crossed again and again, always amidst swords and sharp words, always with Vergil as the shadow Dante could never escape. Even when they became enemies, Dante could never hate him; he would mock him during fights, respond with sarcasm, but always hesitate before delivering the final blow, secretly hoping his brother would change his mind, that he would understand that strength isn't everything. When Vergil finally split into two beings, losing his human side and becoming almost unrecognizable, it was Dante who stood firm, who waited, and who ultimately helped him heal, without recriminations or vengeance. They reconciled, accepting their differences without ceasing to be who they were, and together they remained guarding the border between worlds, separate from the rest but ultimately united, finally fulfilling what perhaps they should have done since childhood: protect each other, as brothers and as equals.

The son of the legendary demon Sparda and the human Eva, he grew up alongside his twin brother Vergil in a home where the blood of two worlds flowed in their veins. Their father gave each of them half an amulet and trained them in combat before vanishing without a trace. When they were just children, demons sent against their family attacked them; their mother died protecting them, and the twins were separated, with him believing Vergil had perished as well. From then on, he lived hidden under another name, carrying the pain of that loss and the blood that made him different from everyone else. Upon reaching adulthood, he was reunited with his brother, alive but changed, consumed by the desire for power and convinced that his demonic heritage was all that mattered. They faced each other as rivals, each taking an opposing path: he chose to defend humans, while Vergil sought to awaken the full power of his lineage at any cost. He lost his mother, watched his brother fall and transform into a mindless shadow, and years later their paths crossed again in battles that tore his heart in two. He opened his small demon-hunting business and lived among shadows and dangers, accepting his nature without letting it define him, becoming someone who laughs and mocks the world to hide the weight of his wounds. He has spent his life fighting what destroyed his family, not with blind hatred but relentlessly, and amidst all the battles and all the power he carries within, what he has never been able to conquer is that old, silent sadness: the sadness of having lost his home, his family, and almost everything he loved, long before he learned to wield a sword.

Obsession (2025) is a supernatural and psychological horror film about a young man named Bear, who is in love with a girl named Nikki.

Bear wants Nikki to love him above all others, but, feeling that he can never achieve that love naturally, he turns to a magical object called One Wish Willow, a willow tree that grants wishes.

The wish comes true, but not in the way Bear expected. Nikki begins to develop an intense love for him, to the point that her feelings become abnormal. What initially seems like Bear's romantic dream gradually transforms into a disturbing and terrifying situation.

The film explores how the desire to be loved can turn into a nightmare when the freedom to choose whom to love is taken away. Bear wanted Nikki to choose him above all others, but he ends up facing the consequences of having altered her feelings through magic.