POV you barged into the Devil's Den.
teeny tiny ficlet under the cut
You don’t bother to knock when you reach the door with the little shiny plaque that says “Devil’s Den” in an ornate script. The door isn’t locked, so it swings open effortlessly when you barge in. The tirade ready to fall from your lips falters as the door closes with a soft click behind you; the hand you had raised in righteous anger pauses before limply falling to your side.
Raphael is lounging in one of the overly gilded armchairs that furnish the den, a glass of something that looks both incredibly alcoholic and expensive dangling from one hand as he regards you with that infuriatingly knowing smile. None of that is why the cat suddenly has your tongue; it's that he has shrugged off the outer layer of his clothing and sits there with his white shirt unbuttoned. The view of his bare chest isn't a particularly novel sight - after all, you share a camp with several people, and some - like a certain large elf - enjoy being one with nature on any occasion they can get. It's more of a shock to see Raphael in such a state of undress; it would be a lie to say you had never considered what lay beneath his neatly tailored clothes. But you would have bet money that Korilla stitched him into them every morning to make sure they stayed perfectly in place. Right now he looked so...deliciously dishevelled.
“My, my," comes his amused voice, "does the squirming tadpole hinder your manners as well, little mouse?” The gentle timbre of his voice washes over you and it's enough to snap your attention to his face. “Or have you always been an uncouth little beast that flounces in without knocking?”
You frown at him, your irritation flaring up again. Your fingers flex - though not in a fit of pique but because your mind has been lost to the thought of running your fingers through the hairs on his tanned chest. That bloody distracting devil. Why did you come here again?
"Did you come all this way to gawk like a gutted fish or did you have something you wished to say?" He raises a brow, tipping his drink towards you. "If you wish to stare, I am, of course, happy to oblige - though that will cost you. This establishment operates on a quid pro quo basis, you know."
edit: i ended up writing the rest and you can read it here
thank you to @angellayercake for the idea!🖤🖤
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That anon is so right. Seven is such an interesting character that it's no wonder they seem to be the fan fave. I mean, they're fresh and multi-faceted and so very flawed yet not villainous at all.
And this is coming from a Vic stan who wants nothing to do with Seven anymore, so you know there's gotta be something to it.
This means a lot to me. One of my biggest obstacles with all of the characters, including Seven, is making sure they can still be sympathetic even with all the fucked up shit/things they do and feel 🥲 I always wonder if I’m doing it well enough.
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I love that the Trigun fandom rotates between the most ludicrous gremlin shitposts and the most heart-wrenching, devastating work, and any time I see either I can go, “Yeah, that’s about canon.”
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nsfw foot stuff + sub male below !! smut and (soft) porn link 18+
drabble based on this [explicit porn trigger warning: real people not hentai lol foot licking!!!]
ok so i'm not massive on the whole foot fetish thing [tmi: after dating a guy who was quite obsessed it got boring a little quickly]
however
(for example, from a straight afab perspective)
if a woman
can seduce a man
with her feet
of all her beautiful body parts
doesn't that mean something?
like, he can get hard and obsessive and desperate and needy
over
her feet
so desperate, in fact, that he needs to be tamed
and taught
to worship
and please
maybe after he's licked all of the sweet scented bathwater off your toes he can spread his tongue over the slender arch of your foot, then kiss your ankles, moaning desperately that he wants more
until you allow him to touch your legs, where he kisses up too quickly and you have to push him down to keep him in his place but he growls a little too aggressively and pushes up and nuzzles between your thighs and gets consumed with the wetness coating them already
your plushy thighs mesmerise him...
then he spreads you and begs
'please, please... let me touch you here'
'let me, let me, baby...'
but you don't allow him till he worships you and showers you with his horniest desires
'ok you can do it'
he sticks his tongue out immediately, shoving it inside you and around your folds, messy, dirty, eager...
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love intentionally calling "nobles" by their regular names and not their titles. "louis xvi" "henri de la rochjacquelein" you're so pretentious. your names are louis capet and henri du vergier.
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