Saints Bleed Too

by Blossxma

Summary:

~Dante x Afro Latina/Multiracial OC story~

Mireya Amaryllis Gaumond-Rodriguez was born of blood and brimstone, wrapped in silk and vengeance. Her mother was a demoness. Her father was human. When she was six, both of them died at the hands of Darkcom—an independent security organization of anti-demon elite that masquerades as law and later, sent to an orphanage run by nuns where she suffered years of abuse and torment.

Now a billionaire fashion designer and slasher (a person who gains income from more than one occupation), she’s a tycoon by day and cambion demon hunter by night. With vengeance incarnate in her heart, she quietly begins dismantling Darkcom ever since their agents murdered her parents. But when a hunt gone wrong and throws her into the orbit of Dante—the legendary devil hunter with swagger, sarcasm, swords, and emotional detachment, Mireya finds herself bound to a man who walks the same blurred line between monster and martyr.

She’s not a damsel.
He’s not a hero.
But the demons they’re chasing might just fear them both for fate has other plans—and this time, it’s dressed in red.

In a war between hell and humanity... even saints bleed too.

Notes:

Disclaimer: This is a Dante x Afro Latina/Multiracial OC story. This takes place in the 2025 Anime and Mireya (my main character/protagonist and OC) is multiracial, bisexual, and has AuDHD so if you have a problem with that, move on and don't read this fic. I am a queer Haitian-Dominican girl with AuDHD myself and wanted to write a canon x OC story containing a queer and neurodivergent Afro Latina woman being loved so I made this. Racism, microaggressions, xenophobia, homophobia, ableism, etc. will not be tolerated and any comments showcasing any of those in any capacity will be deleted.

Chapter 1: 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾

 

---

None of them knew the truth about Mireya. None of them.

By day, she graced red carpets and magazine covers—dripping in silk, gloss, and effortless power. Mireya Gaumond-Rodriguez: billionaire, actress, businesswoman, activist, entrepreneur, tv personality, influencer, fashion designer, beauty mogul, icon.

But when the sun dipped below the skyline of New York City, she was a different person. It was at night that she cleaned blood off her heels and counted the bodies Darkcom left behind. It was at night that she became what she and others called... 

La Calavera,

Calavera for short

 

Chapter 2: 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 1

The sharp click of boot heels echoed off the tiled floor in the mansion as Mireya adjusted her holster in the mirror. The light passed through the busted blinds, imprinting striped shadows on her burgundy satin blouse. She took the long leather coat that was draped on one of the hooks on her wall and wrapped it around her shoulders, concealing both holsters beneath its fold.

 The aroma was that of incense and her mango curl cream that she had put in her hair a few minutes ago. There were also Mireya's maids doing their daily chores in the mansion. I mean, who wouldn't have hired maids in that place? That was, unless the person was a psycho.

Lola, one of Mireya’s best friends, was sprawled sideways on the living room couch with a cartridge in one hand and a glock in the other, like it was a casual morning ritual.

“You sure that outfit is demon-hunting approved?” she joked. 

Mireya raised her brow. “I always dress like this, Lolo. You know me: If I’m going to kill demons, I’m gonna look hot doing it.”

“Qué dramática,” Lola muttered, rolling her eyes. “You’re such a diva.”

“Not really.” Mireya strapped Vice, one of her dual pistols, into her thigh holster and ran her fingers along the gun’s matte-black barrel. “Well… maybe. I just refuse to look bad in public. After all, a mogul like me has a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah well you can’t hide your true colors forever. As my mamá always said: Las rosas blancas finalmente se vuelven rojas. White roses eventually turn red.”

“I’ll worry about that later.” Mireya clipped on a pair of golden skull earrings, watching herself in the mirror. “Right now, I’ve got bigger problems. Like him still being out there.”

 Lola’s smile vanished. She sat up immediately. “The stalker?” She eyed Mireya.

“Sí.” Mireya’s voice sharpened. For months, she'd been dealing with some parasocial creep in New York. At first it was just weird notes and gifts. Nothing threatening enough to sound the alarm. So she’d ignored it. But now… now it was something else.

“He started calling from random numbers. Then he sent pictures of me—ones he took. At my office. My favorite restaurant. Even that park we went to with Bryanne. And worst of all… me. In the shower. In my mansion.”

Lola sat bolt upright. “¿Qué carajo? Are you serious?!”

Mireya nodded, voice low. “Last week, a package showed up. I thought it was fan mail, y’know? Opened it up—and there they were. All those photos. And now he's trying to break into my house.” 

Mireya took a deep breath, then steeled herself. “Seriously, I’ve had enough of this.” 

“¿Y no dijiste nada? ¡No me jodas, Mireya! This isn’t just creepy—this is dangerous. You can't let shit like this slide.”

“I know, I know.” Mireya said, softer now. “I just didn’t want to show that I was scared. That’s what he wants.”

“Ni que fueras de acero, cabrona. You might be part demon, but you bleed too.”

The silence after that settled heavy between them. Mireya caught her own reflection again—those haunted eyes, that hardened mouth. Even the glow pulsing faintly from her other dual pistol, Vox , resting on the living room vanity, seemed dimmer today.

“Relax, Lolo,” she said, more to herself. “The place is rigged with traps, motion sensors, and trip lasers on the windows. I’ve got weapons. I’ll be fine.”

Lola chewed her gum slowly. “So said every dead girl in New York.”

Mireya gave her a look. “Difference is I’m part demon. They weren’t. You, of all people, should get that.”

Lola clicked her tongue. “You think you can keep walking around like nothing when someone is literally stalking you?”

“Yo siempre he sido la cazadora, Lola.” Mireya’s voice was low. “I don’t get hunted. Not by demons, not by humans, and especially not by creeps with boundary issues. No matter what the situation is, I’m the hunter .” 

Lola exhaled hard through her nose as she gradually stood up to talk to Mireya. “Te lo digo en buena onda, mujer. Just because you’re packing those fancy pistols and a trauma threshold from hell doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

“You're right. And that’s exactly why—” Mireya turned around, securing her black suspenders with a soft snap. “I'm going to show him what happens when one crosses my boundaries.”

Lola chuckled. “Te lo juro, that cabrón picked the wrong woman to fuck with.”

Mireya smirked, holstering her pistols. “Damn right he did. Now—how’s Bryanne? What’s she been up to?” Mireya asked changing the subject. She wanted to get her mind off of this whole "stalker" issue for a while.

Lola visibly relaxed. “Oh, her? Still on vacation in Zambia. She’s been sending me pics. Place is gorgeous.”

“Must be nice,” Mireya muttered. “If I visited my birth country, they’d kill me.”

“Byranne’s gay too though. And from what she’s said, most folks there are super religious. Doesn’t exactly make things easy for us part of the alphabet mafia.” Lola said jokingly.

“It’s just as bad in Haiti,” Mireya added. “They literally burn people there for being queer. Meanwhile, sex offenders roam free. Mexico and India aren’t saints either.”

“Preach.” Lola sighed. “I was born in a country where being gay could get you thrown in prison. Moved to Mexico when I was nine and lived with my devout Catholic “abuela”. As you can guess, not any better.”

“Eritrea, Haiti, Mexico—they’ve all got problems,” Mireya said. “But that’s a convo for another day.”

Suddenly, Lola felt her phone vibrating. She pulled out her phone and clicked on the notification. She was now looking at a photo of Bryanne holding her Bengal cat, Mulilo, in one hand and a wine glass in the other, with sunglasses on, totally thriving.

“As much as I’d love to stay and vibe, I gotta dip.” Lola put away her phone and walked over to the coffee table to retrieve her purse.

“Leaving already?” Mireya asked.

“Yeah. Gotta hit the mall. Need gifts for Irina. It’s our three-year anniversary today.”

Mireya smiled. “Aww, congrats to both of you.”

“Thanks,” Lola said, grinning. “After that, I gotta head over to Roja Candelas. I’m the owner of the nightclub so I have to be there. Irina will be there too as well as. And you chica ?”

“To work. Got a meeting with the board today about my company so I need to get going in a couple minutes.  

“Okay then. I should really head out now. Oh, before I leave, can I snag a couple sweets from you.” Mireya nodded. 

“Sure. Knock yourself out. Don’t take all of the Twixies tho. Those are my favorite.”

With that, Lola grabbed a handful of candies from the goblet-shaped sweet bowl on the table, taking only six Twix bars. The bowl was a gift sent by a fan from France and it's been with her since then. The bowl was made out of French vintage glass and was according to the fan, shaped by their mother, who was a master glassblower, adding on to its luxury and uniqueness.

“Well then, I gotta get going. Feel free to stop by the club tonight if you have any free time. We open exactly at 10.” Lola mentioned, shoving the candy in her purse.

Mireya gave a small nod. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No worries. Bye Mira.”

Mireya smirked. “Don’t do anything stupid, girl.”

Lola just rolled her eyes and made her way out the front door, a small chuckle leaving her lips as the door behind her closed.

With that Mireya grabbed her purse and made her way to the garage door.

“Have a good day Ms. Rodriguez.” All of the maids said unanimously. 

Mireya paused for a moment, turned and gave a small smile. “Thank you ladies. You all have a great day yourself. Take care.”

She then turned the handle, pushed open the door, and pressed the button on her car keys, unlocking the doors to her black, Cadillac Escalade SUV. Mireya entered the car, made sure everything was in place, and with that, departed from the mansion’s garage to make her way to work.

Notes:

Comments and Kudos are appreciated ❤️

Also...
Fun Fact: The name of Mireya’s customized semi-automatic pistols, “Vox” & “Vice” are Latin for “voice” and “sin”. 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Crimson Covenant