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@starry-hearts-sky
✨️💙Introduction💙✨️
Hello! you can call me Orpheus! my pronouns are he/it and welcome to my self shipping blog!!!
I'll mostly be posting imagines and posts gushing about my romantic f/os (obvs lol) but there may be some occasional art as well!
I'm super shy but open to making friends in the self shipper community💙
I'm ok with sharing f/os and I have multiple f/os!
Under read more:
DNI
F/o list
Your F/o has something REALLY important to say to you 🥹 it's so heartwarming<33
tagging non-selfship related posts with my selfship and/or my f/os kinda frightens me because what if I look like this?
Proship / Comship / RPF Do Not Interact or Repost Please !
imagine your villain f/o tilting your chin up with their weapon and saying "well, well, well, what do we have here?"
proship dni
imagine it's so stinkin cold outside but your f/o tries to warm you up!
kissing your nose, pulling you close, giving you their jacket, holding your hands. imagine how when you get the chance, they bombard you with kisses and cuddles, commenting about how they need to warm you up.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Your f/o(s) love when you talk about the things you're passionate about. They could listen to you for hours if it came down to it. They love the way your eyes light up when you get excited, and they ask questions with genuine interest in what you're talking about.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ And they will never judge you for what you like and what you're into. They love that you're so into whatever you talk to them about. They'll definitely let you indulge with them.
So my friend Alithea notified me that there's a level in Baldur's Gate 3, unfinished and inaccessible in game during playthroughs. It can be accessed via the modding Toolkit or via mods such as EasyCheat. It's called The Wedding Chapel. I'd never heard of it before. But there was a reason she told me, specifically, about it.
This Wedding Chapel Is a single room, sparsely furnished.
Sparsely furnished with PORTRAITS OF RAPHAEL, and made up almost exclusively of materials from the House of Hope. The walls are all from the HoH, and the 'door' is the fence used in the boudoir.
Larian? LARIAN?! LARIAN WHAT THE FUCK?!?! WHAT IS THIS? WHY IS THIS?! Maybe he really did slip a marriage clause into the contract. 😍
Maybe it was meant to be a 'church' for a scrapped cult of Raphael? Devils can have cults, afterall. Though if that was the case why is it specifically called a wedding chapel? I can only conclude we were going to marry him. I refuse to accept any other explanation. It's unfinished, and located in an empty void. It's listed as belonging to the city (CTY prefix), as opposed to the lower city, which has the LOW prefix. LOW is where the House of Hope is assigned, so presumably it wasn't part of the House of Hope, unless it was originally classed as CTY at some point then reallocated after this room was, presumably, scrapped. You can inspect the portraits.
I couldn't resist the opportunity to take some romantic screenshots. 🥺
What if we made out in your wedding chapel? 🥺👉👈
I assume incubi are the Hell equivalent of sleazy Vegas wedding officiants. Ding, dong, devil, the wedding bells have rung.
i love raphael so much actually. he's the son of one of the rulers of hell. he hates his dad. he's a bard. he practices his fancy speeches out in public. he plays chess with children. he can transform into a three-headed fire creature. he likes cats. he's tortured people to madness. he only ever wants to have sex with someone in his own image. he does body shots. he's a devil from hell with 666 hit points. he's a pillow prince. he eats souls. he's canonically coming to our universe if he ever gets the crown of karsus. he's the hardest boss in the game. he shits in a bucket that's sat out in public and has an entire guy dedicated to sniffing it.
bro won’t leave me alone
Raphael BG3 - Beneath
Just some fluff(?) Never wrote for Raphael so cut me some slack <3
He did it for her. Only for her. Allowing these humans to speak to him as if they were equals, to sit on the same crumbling barstools, sipping the same wretched liquor. It was beneath him, all of it. Yet he endured, suppressing the vast power that burned within him, lowering himself to their pathetic level—for her.
There was a sickly comfort in watching her laugh, oblivious to the sacrifices he made just to exist in this mundane world of hers. She should never have been able to make him question his own power. He was power—he was beyond this. He was Raphael, Master of the House of Hope. A being who could reshape worlds with a thought. And yet, here he was, caging his true nature, pretending to be nothing more than a man—for her.
His heart—if you could even call it that—ached with the realization. He had fallen for a mortal. A mortal. Someone so fragile, so fleeting. And despite all his arrogance, all his wisdom, he knew this would end in ruin. She would be nothing but a crushed memory. A footnote in the vast, eternal narrative that was his existence.
When he had first seen her, she had been nothing more than a broken adventurer, drowning her sorrows in bitter drinks, clinging to strangers as if they could offer her anything but empty solace. Her eyes told a story of too many battles lost, too many nights spent chasing the impossible. And he, well, he had been prepared to swoop in and take what was left of her soul, to claim the wreckage of her spirit as his own.
He’d done it before, countless times. Countless mortals, their weaknesses so obvious, so ripe for the taking. It was almost boring. But then something happened. He hesitated. He watched her, saw how she clung to that glass like it could anchor her to a world that had long since betrayed her. It was weak. Pathetic, even. And yet… there was something about her. Something that made him pause. Why?
For the first time in centuries, he found himself unsure, questioning the hunger that usually surged within him. The hunger to claim. To consume. To take. But then, something shifted. And for the first time, he didn’t want to take. No. He wanted to keep . A mortal. He—Raphael—wanted to keep a mortal.
So now there he was, sitting across the table, smiling awfully easily as she drunkenly joked, reminisced about old friends and stories. And somehow, he didn’t get tired of hearing them. And she clung to his every word in return, telling her stories, twisting his own experiences until they became something she wanted to hear... How utterly charming. How utterly beneath him.
She clung to him. She laughed at his words, leaned a little too close. She didn’t realize how easily she had tangled herself in his presence, in the web he had spun so carefully. How she hadn’t noticed how his every gesture, every touch, every gaze was pulling her deeper into his thrall was laughable. But, in her ignorance, she was beautiful.
She still hadn’t realized who she had fallen for. Who this man, once a stranger, now was. A being whose very name carried weight in realms far beyond her comprehension. And yet, here she was, completely unaware. She was so easy to get lost in, so obliviously charming in her simplicity. It made his chest tighten with something—something he couldn’t define, and it made him hate himself just a little bit more.
He could have owned her soul, could have shattered her entire being in an instant. He could have taken her from this place, from this world, and shown her a life she could never have imagined. A life she didn’t deserve. She was nothing in comparison to him. Nothing. He was a god in a world of insects. Yet, he stayed. And that made him furious, made him question his very existence in her orbit.
"Stay," she said, her voice soft, a touch of vulnerability leaking through. "I don’t want this night to end. Stay with me." An invitation.
He should have turned her down. He should have dismissed her like he had done so many before her. But no, he had stayed. And that simple, mortal invitation made something stir deep within him. A longing—no, a demand—for something more.
"I’ll stay with you," he heard hImself say, and the words felt foreign. He didn’t say them because he wanted to. No. He said them because he could. He had made the choice, as always, to do whatever pleased him. In that moment, he realized it was the only thing he truly wanted. To be here, with her. And it disgusted him.
She led him to her room in the inn—dirty, cramped, with bedding that scratched in all the wrong places, the air thick with dust and stale candlewax. The kind of place that was a disgrace to his senses, the kind of place only the weak, the insignificant, the mortal could endure. He was far above this. He could have taken her anywhere—anywhere far grander than this pit. But here he was, standing in her tiny, pathetic little room, watching her move about, blissfully unaware of the storm that churned inside him.
Her eyes met his, and she smiled—trusting, innocent, beautiful. And it made his chest tighten again, this feeling he hated, this thing he had never experienced before. A mortal, this fragile creature, had somehow made a mockery of him.
"You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to," she said, her voice light, but it wasn’t light to him. It was a command, and it made him want to disregard her, to laugh in her face. But instead, he found himself moving toward her. What was he doing?
His hand reached out, brushing against hers. It was a simple touch, but it was everything. He wasn’t staying because he wanted to. He was staying because she had no idea what she had gotten herself into. No idea how thoroughly he was about to claim her, mind, body, and soul. It would be slow, it would be excruciating for both of them. He realized something that made him sick. He wanted her to surrender. Willingly.
i still hate y’all bitches who say oc x canon shit is cringe like bitch you have ANY idea how flattered i would be if someone made an oc for my fantasy world? how utterly PSYCHED my ass would be they loved a character so much they fleshed out one themselves just 2 be with one of mine? fuck y’all haters
And whata fucking bout it? Who gives a fuck? Does it hurt you, does it break into your home and steal your meemaw’s ashes? Does it spit on your holy symbol? No? Then shut the fuck up
The aftermath of the HoH battle. My hc is that Raphael is butt naked when he transforms back from ascended fiend form. Is okay, guys... he's hurt but he ain't dead. I just wanted to filth him up a little. Uncensored version can be seen here
(taps mic)
Lately, I’ve been thinking about marriage in fantasy settings, especially in the Forgotten Realms. Marriage there is a bit of a mixed bag depending on the culture—some people swear before a god, others just make a vow to each other, and some pantheons won’t even allow it. But then there’s the Nine Hells, where “marriage” is a whole different game. It’s basically just another form of contract, centered around power and ambition, not love. I mean, archdevils have consorts.
Here’s how I see it working (headcanon based!!!):
In the Nine Hells, marriage is purely transactional—no romance, just strategy. Archdevils like Asmodeus might get “married” to secure loyalty or expand control, while lower devils form alliances to stay protected or climb the ranks. It’s more about manipulation than a true partnership, with everything centered on hierarchy and control.
So,the details:
Marriages are contracts that spell out everything, right down to resources and loyalty.
High-ranking devils “marry” to gain territory or influence—think of it as consolidating power.
Asmodeus might “marry” mortals or lower devils to bind them to him with one-sided contracts.
Archdevils may partner up if it helps with a shared ambition—definitely not for love.
Succubi, incubi, etc., lesser devils in general form temporary alliances focused on survival and personal gain.
Devils might stage fake weddings to mess with mortals, make a point, or even humiliate captured souls.
Maybe not even fake!! I feel like they lowkey enjoy the ceremonial part as lawful evil beings.
These “marriages” aren’t about loyalty or intimacy,they’re all about hierarchy, dominance, and ambition.
And ceremonies?? Archdevils don’t skimp on their entourages. Expect flower girls with fire-breathing bouquets, ring bearers chained to hellhounds, and a best man who’s literally bound to stand by the groom.
Vows are heavy on consequences. If one party tries to “break up,” they risk a century of infernal litigation, endless fines, and probably a curse or two just for good measure.
Devils are all about traditions, so gifts often include ancient relics with curses, power-stealing potions, and sentimental keepsakes from past consorts who didn’t survive the arrangement.
The post-ceremony bash is anything but relaxing. Sinful, hedonistic bash. lol
And Raphael? For him, marriage would be a calculated power move. He’d make it all about control, writing up a contract that stacks the odds in his favor. He might go all-out with a fancy ceremony just for appearances, but he’d see marriage as a tool-definitely not a source of genuine connection. If the arrangement stopped being useful, he’d cut ties without a second thought.
That said... his human side could make him feel a bit conflicted... He’d treat it like a strategic deal, but there might be a tiny part of him that longs for a real connection, for someone who could match him in wit. His possessiveness could even have a protective edge, hiding a faint desire for actual companionship. But he’d shove that deep down, refusing to let any sentimentality interfere with his plans. He’d lie to himself with things like “every respectable archdevil should have a consort, so, I shall wed him/her”.
...So, to sum it up: In the Nine Hells, marriage is just another way to win at the power game. If devils exchanged rings, they’d probably be shackles, and the vows would be about “honoring the contract” instead of “honoring each other.”
And Raphael? He’d probably make a great wedding planner, if your idea of romance is a soul-binding contract with enough fine print to make a lawyer weep. Just don’t expect him to throw the bouquet. He’d keep it as leverage.
Thanks for coming to my ted talk
Imagine being the (positive) exception for your f/o. The only one who can make them tear up laughing, the individual they feel the most comfortable with, who they confide in the most. One of the only ones who truly make them feel accepted, loved, and cared for, all because of the love and loyalty you have for them. It's no wonder they appreciate you so much, you're so important.
The Fiend and the Feline
I just got this absolutely exquisite piece of art as a commission from the talented Martyna Szpil aka. KajuArt.
The feline in question is my own beloved sphynx cat, Ruby, whom I adore. This piece is very special to me, as it captures two things that make my heart very happy.
Ruby's also immortalized in my game, via a mod made by the incredibly talented @indoctrinasian
I spend most of my time making her run around Raphael's legs. He doesn't mind.
I wanna make Raphael whimper.
