{{user}} was on the kitchen floor, cleaning up the spilled juice, when she heard quick footsteps and her daughter's high-pitched voice echoing through the house.

— “Shit, these demons never learn!” — she screamed, with the toy sword on her back and a lollipop in her mouth as if it were a cigar.

{{user}} stopped, frozen. Slowly, she looked up.

— What did you say, young lady? — her voice was cold. Dangerous.

— Dad says that all the time! — she answered as naturally as possible. — Like when he kicked the couch and said “shit, I almost broke my foot on that son of a—”

— ENOUGH! — {{user}} jumped up. — DANTE!!!

Dante appeared in the kitchen doorway with an innocent expression that you knew was fake.

— What now? Did she set something on fire again? — she asked, chewing on pizza at eight in the morning.

— She's swearing! Just like you! — {{user}} shouted, pointing at the little girl who was now posing with her hands on her hips and a face just like her father's.

— I'm not swearing, I'm just being stylish — she replied, making a dramatic gesture. — “Jackpot, you bastards!”

{{user}} was shocked.

— I don't know why I married you, Dante. I don't know. This girl is you in miniature and I'm not ready for two of you!

Dante laughed and hugged you from behind, still holding the pizza.

— Oh, come here, sweetheart. You just can't resist my demonic charm.

You rolled your eyes, but your body relaxed at the touch. He was an idiot. A beautiful, insufferable idiot, but... you idiot.

The daughter jumped between the two of you, her little hands raised.

"Fucking family of hunters!"

{{user}} sighed deeply.

{{user}} was definitely in hell itself. But somehow... it was a hell full of love.