#character: zophus

[spyridonya]

Number 34: bauble!!! 🥹

Micro Story Prompts!

Bauble

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3/D&D Character: Zophus Pairing: Zophus/Raphael (if you squint), Zophus/OCs (if you squint more)

You can find anything in Tradegate, as the name would imply, including particular infernal weapons from the fallen of the Blood Wars. The weapons themselves are not important as so much as whom was imprinted on these weapons, sometimes leaving the echo of secrets buried within the infernal iron.

Zophus even wore the boots noted for such an occasion, with the red stripes running from calf to heel. However, before a vendor could find him, Zophus saw a delicate pendent of protection - a blue steel cage that caught a stone of heart-blood red - instead. So, he purchases it, because giving it in love would make his heart warm.

After all, you can find anything in Tradegate.

[chaosteddybear]

6 Song Soundtrack: Hexx

Thank you so much for the tag, @spyridonya and @dmagedgoods! Hexx is dying to meet Zophus by the way! Mix is on his way too so don't worry I'm not cheating; just don't know how long it'll be until he's posted.

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

Hexx this time! My runaway Haarlep....

1. An event that defines your character's past: Havana

He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na Oh, but my heart is in Havana There's somethin' 'bout his manners I knew him forever in a minute That summer night in June And papa says he got malo in him He got me feelin' like… I knew it when I met him, I loved him when I left him Got me feelin' like, ooh, And then I had to tell him, I had to go

Hexx was plucked from paradise by Mephistopholes and dropped into the House of Hope. While there, they quickly fell in love with Raphael, but if the song is about the event itself from their past, it would be their feelings while it happened.

2. How your character sees themselves: (Don't Fear) The Reaper

I won't spam with the lyrics to this one - it's pretty straightforward hehe. But ultimately, Hexx focuses a lot on the pain they bring others. They see themself as a villain mostly due to their hunger, their insatiable need to destroy. This song oversimplifies it, but I ran out of energy to really find a perfect one that also adds in the sentiment of both hurting and disappointing your loved ones?

3. How others view them: mememe

But I'll laugh too fucking hard, you probably think I'm so mean But I don't even know you, and now you'll never really know Know-know-know, know-know-know Anything about me, me-me-me, me-me-me

Ok ok ok ok I cheated. It's obvious how others see Hexx, and you all probably also have your own ideas since you would only see them in Haarlep form anyway! So here is Hexx's response to that, hehehehe.

4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic): You Make My Dreams Come True

On a night when bad dreams become a screamer When they're messing with the dreamer, I can laugh it in the face Twist and shout my way out and wrap yourself around me 'Cause I ain't the way you found me and I'll never be the same

During their time with Raphael, for thousands of years, Hexx mostly watches Raphael live his life and tries to help however possible. Using their skillset. Advising indirectly through quips and snark, which Raphael doesn't acknowledge the usefulness of. They get to a point where Raphael tolerates them, but they're madly in love with him. Quickly having betrayed Mephistopheles (they outwitted him in their contract), Hexx is fully Raphael's and ultimately becomes comfortable at his home, fully devoted to him, though not fulfilled.

Until Cian shows up. Hexx falls in love with him quickly, admiring his relationship with Raphael as well (Hexx doesn't really feel jealousy). After a complex beginning, these two ultimately get to a point where Cian actually breaks down their walls (!!!!!). Raphael and Cian are the loves of their life, and they'll never be the same again.

5. A major fight scene: DONTTRUSTME

She wants to touch me, woo-oh She wants to love me, woo-oh She'll never leave me, woo-oh, woo-oh-oh-oh Don't trust a hoe, never trust a hoe Won't trust, 'cause a hoe won't trust me

Well, a fight for them is usually consuming someone as an incubus.... I think most of it speaks for itself. Ultimately, don't trust an incubus LOL. But also pay attention to how Hexx also feels not cared about by the world either. Also this song is so problematic just like Hexx hehe

6. End credits song: On Top Of The World

I've had the highest mountains I've had the deepest rivers You can have it all but life keeps moving Now, take it in but don't look down 'Cause I'm on top of the world, hey I'm on top of the world, hey Waiting on this for a while now Paying my dues to the dirt I've been waiting to smile, hey Been holding it in for a while, hey Take you with me if I can [...] I could've gave up then, but Then again, I couldn't have 'cause I've travelled all this way for something

Hexx, after going through all their shit, when they land in "today" they really feel on top of the world. They've seen everything. Been everywhere. And they're exactly where they want to be, with the ones they want to be with.

No pressure tags: @loveless-nameless-graceless-two, @cerudinae, @elonianmisfit, @twistedapple and you, dear Reader!

[spyridonya]

Lessons

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: Mature Pairing: Zophus Emberbane (Tav OC) x Cian (@dmagedgoods's Dark Urge), background Raphael/Cian/Zophus Words: 1880 Trigger Warnings: No sex, but descriptions of body arousal. Light bondage. Summary: An orphan aches to ask for what he wants, but habits die hard.

The rooms given to Zophus in the House of Hope had been spacious, though it lacked the wash of maroon and the false glitter of gold. The expansive marble had been scrubbed clean, appearing the color of sunset due to the ever burning infernal skies of Arvenus coming from the balcony when the curtains were not drawn. However, unlike the other chambers of the Archdevil’s entourage, it was decidedly spartan.

The walls were bare of paintings, tapestries, or statues, save a modest sized portrait of Raphael. Rather, there were only mounted weapons that Zophus had saved during the campaign against the Absolutestists and the Dead Three. Weapons, Zophus felt, that he would never use again. They held memories of the days when the whispering of the tadpoles was far too common for pleasant company, though he did miss the sound of Cian’s voice when it broke through the din of voices. 

The only pieces of furniture that Zophus’ room housed were a bookshelf, a chest, and a large bed. However, even the large bed - which could host far more people than just Zophus himself and another - lacked the sumptuous colored silk of Raphael’s quarters. Rather, Zophus had favored linen sheets and a woven blanket - durable and dependable in their structure and comfort. Eventually the linen would be washed and used enough to become as soft as cotton and the woven blanket was well spun. Compared to his bunk in the Barracks, it was luxurious enough and reminded him not to let his guard down. 

However, Zophus never thought his bed sheets would be dependable enough to bind his wrists to the headboard of his own damn bed.

When the paladin had woken up to his current predicament of being bound and with a blindfold across his eyes, he mentally berated himself for several moments that the decades of training and fighting in the Harmonium, his guard had melted away in a matter of weeks. The nights on the trek to Baldur’s Gate or the horrors of the Shadowlands were short for him, he often woke at the slightest noise or rustle before settling to a restless sleep, but that had been over a month ago.

The paladin then considered that perhaps someone that he trusted had slipped into his room, and his self flagellation ceased long enough to center his senses. Betrayal was quickly rejected for the relative amount of comfort he found himself in. Though Zophus was laying down on his back, and his arms tied above his head, his muscular legs and his wings were still free and nothing had been placed around his throat. Pillows had been tucked under the paladin’s neck to avoid straining his wings and at the small of his back, exposing him to anyone passing, and he felt the stirring of a possible erection.

The air was comfortable, thanks to the arcane weavings of the House of Hope, and the air was fresh though there was no discernable wind. The aasimar licked his dry lips and took a deep breath through his nose. The smell he first expected - bourbon twined with cherries with the barest hint of sulfur - wasn’t there. 

Rather, he smelled something floral, something dark like a forest, so very lush yet not overly sweet and Zophus took another deep breath. It was Cian’s smell. One that he knew well, one scent that he was afraid to linger on despite how much he enjoyed it. 

Sometimes, Zophus thought, familiarity breeds contempt. 

The drow’s whispering footsteps were much louder than Zophus expected, though he supposed that was due to the lack of… anything in his personal chambers.

"How long has it been since you joined us, Zophus?” The soft, sensual voice filled Zophus’ ears despite Cian being some distance away, “Not quite a month since you had this room and yet… it looks like you’ve turned this into an armory.” The mockery was softened by the playfulness in the drow’s voice. “The future corpse of my father forgive me... you kept Ketheric’s hammer, of all things?” The arched tone attempted not to laugh. "Yet, you have no whips or chains. Nothing made of leather - not even silk." 

The growing stirring of his cock had become an ache and likely very visible. 

Cian tsked and Zophus heard the sorcerer approach even closer, "Even your bedding is gray. Nothing lovely at all about it. Do you not like beautiful things?" 

I love beautiful things, Zophus thought. Cian was one of the most beautiful people he knew. His mind’s eyes conjured the whipcord body colored like smoke paired with the contrast of night colored hair, the ebony and silver gaze, the ivory tattoo along the planes of his cheek to ear. 

The growing stirring at Zophus’ cock had become an ache, and likely very visible. The aasimar swallowed and would have turned away if he could. 

"Grey bedding means less work for the debtor." Zophus replied curtly as he took a deep breath, falling into the pattern that he believed Cian enjoyed so much, "So, that means more time for a doomed soul to wash your bedding." 

Zophus had seen Cian’s bedding, the sumptuous tastes for a sumptuous man, though they spent more time in the Boudoir in comparison. It was common enough grounds to them and others in Raphael’s entourage, though Zophus never felt he could speak freely. Haarlep had sharp ears and would give even sharper words to Mephistopheles. The solution to speaking freely with his lovers was simply to arrive upon the drow’s doorstep more often but…

Zophus was not Raphael. Zophus was scarred and rumpled, lacking in grace in exchange for his size and power. 

"Such a precious remark, no doubt you have some concerns for the help," The drow purred, his voice closer but not close enough. The soft caress of fabric against fabric entered Zophus’ ears, and he adjusted his imagination of the drow wearing pants, though he indulged the idea of muscular arms and chest being exposed, "I've heard that the Harmonium don’t have a creative bone in their body.” 

The footsteps stopped, and Zophus’ heart pounded rapidly and fully in his chest. His body shifted and he stretched his wings while he tipped his head back slightly. He could dismiss his wings, he often did when he laid on his back. However, last night he had the luxury of curling on his stomach for sleep after returning to the House from a mission in the early hours. The habits of hard narrow beds that his faction used were dissipating quickly and he likely hadn’t thought about dismissing his wings.

Zophus knew Cian liked his wings… and his wings were sensitive. The memory of the last time someone teased along his feathers brought Zophus’s cock to full hardness. 

“However,” Cian echoed once more, right at the edge of the bed, “I have to say, I do like the bookshelf. True wood.” The faint slippery sound of fingers against polished wood might have been in his imagination, but the steps that paused two arm lengths away from Zophus were real. For a long moment there was silence, likely the drow studying the books that were lining the shelves while making the aasimar wait. Most of the books that Zophus owned were collected from their journey together, and the ones that didn’t diverge from magic had been split equally between them. Cian had taken most of the ones related to magic 

The silence passed for another heart beat and he felt the shift in his bed.. Zophus' stomach knotted at the unfamiliar sensation before he spoke. "And what little imp has been telling you these things about Harmoniums? Most Imps don’t leave Avernus and saw even less when they were living souls in Faerun."

Cian laughed. The sound was rich and warm and it made Zophus smile, though the smile lasted only for a moment. The aasimar could hear the mastress shift, and felt the resulting dip of additional weight on his bed. "My, my, have we found a nerve?" 

Zophus took a deep breath, and felt his face and muscles grow tense, despite how wonderful Cian smelled, “I find it’s hard to decorate when you have so little at hand.” 

The clothes on his back, the armor culled from the dead, the weapons dragged from victory, and all the trinkets that could fit in his pocket. When the last battle been fought, it was all he had. Zophus could never go back to Sigil, back to the little bunk and locker that had been for all intents and purposes his 'home'. 

More often than not, he had been living like he had during the journey to Baldur's Gate. The only thing he missed in that bunker was a little journal book about the sea. He didn’t even miss his red steel armor that had been stripped from him by the Illithids. Losing that had been worth meeting Raphael. Losing that was worth meeting Cian.

The drow’s voice was silent, though the soft whisper of fabric was loud in Zopheus’ ears, the shift of Cian’s full weight on his bed and knees and limbs dragging against fabric made his mouth dry. 

The aasimar jumped when fingers caressed down the scared side of his face, soft and tender, before a smooth hand cradled against his jaw and sharp cheekbone. The scent of Cian that filled his senses wasn’t overwhelming, it was welcoming, as was the soft rhythm of the drow’s breath on Zophus’ headed face and neck. The growing need of his body couldn’t be hidden with Cian so close.. Not that it could have been hidden when Cian arranged Zophus’ body to be perfectly displayed. 

Zophus licked his lips, "I feel it is wrong to ask for things I may want. I am… I am all right with that, I’m used to working for what I want… or to get by.” 

The aasimar could feel the warmth of Cian’s body pressed to him, the subtle adjustment of torso and limbs, and soon felt the weight of the drow’s body and the urgent press of his cock against his own. 

“You can have anything you want, everything you want," Cian murmured in his ear, softly, lovingly, and causing a fine shiver to go down Zophus' spine, "All you need to do is ask."

"I'm afraid that's a prospect I'm not used to," The aasimar replied, his tone akin to stone as heat pooled down his spine. The full contact of smooth fabric and the weight pressing against his lower stomach and cock likely had brought a flush to his cheeks and stomach though, it wasn’t from shame. Zophus often flushed due to arousal.

"Then it sounds like I have to teach you to," Cian murmured as both his hands held Zophus face and the sweetest breath teased against his mouth. 

Zophus doesn’t see Cian tip his head, but he feels the flush, hungry slant of his mouth against his and Zophus bends his neck forward to accept the heat of the kiss, the pressure fierce yet sweet, and yet too shy to part his lips despite … everything. 

And that was how the drow began to teach the assimar how to ask.

[spyridonya]

Distance

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: Teen-Mature Pairing: Zophus Emberbane (OC) x Sasli (OC @chaosteddybear) Words: 1158 Summary: Sometimes, Zophus stays away from the House of Hope Note: Written with the idea of he and Salsi not being together right away, which might have changed, but enjoy the fic anyway!

There aren't many portals to Maladomini; fewer still that weren't controlled by the Baazetu on the behest of the Lord of the Nine. Losing just one was a tremendous loss for planeswalkers, but such an invaluable gift that benefited the budding Archdevil Supreme was reason enough for Zophus. 

All beauty that the 7th layer of Hell once held had been corrupted by Baalzebul’s whims, leaving nothing but ruins and decay. A decay that was so complete, the Slug Archduke could not drive off those who lived among the shadows of ruined cities. Such a place was a boon for the most desperate of thieves and the darkest of secrets with pockets of wealth still under the dark and grime of absence. 

As a former Harmonium, Zophus Emberbane knew it best as a place to find the cowardly and criminal. At his height in Sigil,  he sought many who attempted to escape from the law in such a wretched place and successfully wrestled back many to the city to be placed on trial… or killed in self defense. 

That was before the tadpole had buried itself into his head, taking so much of his earned power and skill. That was before he knew of Raphael who spoke words of order across the multiverse while stroking his cheek, after the betrayal of his dream guardian, and Zophus’ own failure to save Mol. Before he knew Sasli.

And so, Zophus Emberbane carried the location of the portal on a metaphorical silver platter to the new lord of Avernus. It wasn’t quite the macabre gesture as bringing the head of Helsik on her own halberd to Raphael, but such an asset would be treated well enough. On top of this, it gave Raphael access to newly forged allies that he would eventually spy upon. 

He had been gone from the House of Hope, away from Sasl, Cian, and Raphael, for a good week from his perspective, but it could have been longer. Time and the Planes were not always forgiving as he wished, but if they had been, he would likely have no use to Raphael… perhaps not to Salsi as well. 

The paladin, deep down, wanted to be seen as useful despite the glaring flaws shouldered upon him. The burns of his face went down his left check, leaving an angry path down his neck, and his arm. The inner rage that he fought so desperately to control by grace of compassion and justice that failed him. The simple fact is he was merely a true mortal and when he died, he surely would be cast into the pit. 

Zophus was never gentle to himself. Not ever. He was forged with steel and fire, ash and ruin.

If anything, the only thing soft and true in his life was Sasli. Her golden eyes bright, her smile even brighter. Her long hair flowed like curving rivers, her skin pink and flushed with promise, the curves his hands ached to indulge in. Part of him knows she might let him, but another part knows he’d scar her. 

Being so gentle was hard. Being rough as she wanted was harder still. He always feared that anything playful and loving could turn… not playful and loving. 

And yet, upon Zophus’ return, instead of seeing Raphael, he found himself standing before Sasli’s chambers. His little flame in his darkness, bright as a lost star, things he didn’t quite say as he turns a pot of zinnias in his hands. The bright blooms mean ‘lasting affection’ and ‘goodness’. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, not without so many other blooms declaring devotion, lust, and need. 

But it would do, he thinks. Slowly, the tall man placed the flowers that are almost as bright as Salsi by her door frame where she would find them. He took a step back, his heart beating in his chest, and his mind demanded he’d take a second step. It would make the third step easier. 

Rather, he fist raised to knock on the door. The aasimar found himself  fearing he would open the door, and smile her bright smile while breathlessly apologizing that she was occupied. Still, that smile would be enough, Zophus told himself. It would be enough to rid the ache in his body and the sour in his mouth.

The door opened at once and the paladin felt his heart thunder as a sweetheart of a face, preferred out to see him. Sasli’s golden eyes were like the sun and the small smile shined like the heavens he’d never really had, "Zophus, there you are! You'd been gone for so long, I'd fear you gotten lost, I was getting worried-"

The paladin's arms went about her petite form carefully, one muscular lip crossed her back while the other cupped her cheek to tilt her head back. There were few other means to fight the nearly foot and half height difference between to give a sudden kiss, though he realized he could have lifted her. It would have been easy. However, the paladin knew that should be asked for. 

Besides, his thoughts were already occupied. His mouth fell readily upon hers, his full lips covered hers before his mouth parted as if he were parched and desperate - which he was. 

Zophus was desperate for her sweetness and warmth that he found on her lips and tongue, his own mouth harsher in his need, adorant of the tiefling before him. His hand swept over the rose colored skin of her cheeks and into the dark chocolatey locks of her hair.  

For a moment, he thinks the hesitancy is rejection, and he panic: Was the desire and affection just in his mind when she looked at to him with candle lit eyes, across Raphael’s body? A small hope in a realm that dashed hope upon rocks? 

Had he hurt her? He was nothing but tender and distant from Salsi in the few times they joined Raphael in bed. She didn’t deserve such a creature like he who could ruin her with claws or coldness-

Then Sasli responded. Her strong arms went around his neck, her fingers clutched to the length of his hair to pull him closer. She tasted and smelled so damnably good that he almost moaned when the heat of her mouth drew away from his lips. 

But it was only to ask, “Please stay?” A gentle plea before she kissed him full of passion and desperation for whatever she saw in him.  Honor? Duty? Misplaced judgment of beauty? And despite her size, despite everything, her hands went to his gauntlets and she took a step away..

If he didn’t want the kiss to end, he must follow her.

So he did, the heavy pieces of armor falling onto the marbled floor in their wake. 

[spyridonya]

Prayer (drabble)

Fandom: BG3/Planescape

Character: Zophus (named Tav)

Summary: And you will never pray. (2nd PoV)

Trigger Warnings: Impending Doom

As a Planeswalker, you often trod upon the planes that harbor the realms of the Gods. It tends to make one skeptical of their might and capability, though it's not that you know the Gods couldn't, rather you know Gods wouldn't. So why bother?

You know where they live. Why, you could even glimpse the wonder or terror of such abode on a plane's almost never ending horizon. Never ending until you shrug, slip the trinket that serves as your key and passage, and slip through a door to another world. Perhaps this realm may also house some god. Benevolent or cruel, it's always the same. It's almost like the material planes and all their little pockets and spaces among the stars.

This little ache in your belly. This little hurt. This little longing.

The gods won't make it go away. Prayers won't be heard.

In your years as a part of the Harmonium, you've never prayed. You didn't pray when you found some parasite squirming behind your eye, beholding the alien insides of a nautiloid as you breathe air thick with sulfuric ash and smoke. You didn't pray as you and the ship plummeted from the sky.

You don't pray as the rest of the day creeps by on some material plane that you don't currently know the name of. You don't pray when you crush the remains of intellect devourers or the last remaining illithid wasting under an unforgiving alien sky.

As  night shrouds you on a river's bank, you don't pray.

On that first night, the tadpole only just empathizes how alone you truly are and how everything you fought for, worked for, has been denied to you. The little ache is there and the longing hurts too much to hide the truth. You are Zophus Emberbane, and you will die alone and abandoned.

Even then you don't pray. That would be a weakness. Instead, you find yourself crying for the first time since your mother died, crying until it bleeds into dreamless sleep.

[spyridonya]

Heart Holder OC Maker!

I was tagged by @arendaes for the Heart Hold OC Maker! Thank you so much!

You can find it here! I'm tagging @buzz-beez, @minthy-fresh, @serenbach86, @cassynite, @tenmillionbees, @knight-commander

Here is my little Kadira and my little Zophus.

[spyridonya]

Mouse & Cat

Sometimes I get bored at work. Done on Tayasui Sketches on my phone. Will I ever do more? Who knows.

[spyridonya]

WIP Wednesday

I have some NSFW stuff but... here's some SFW! I was tagged by @amatres and @dujour13!

Have a picture of my Tav, Zophus. Who I'm trying to render for WotR. It's absolutely a WIP. Mostly I'm playing with Krita.

Tagging: @aparticularbandit, @undyingembers, @arendaes, @cassynite for WIPs for writing or art!

[spyridonya]

For Kadee, the WOTR KC questions!

Do they think they're going to make it out alive?

3. Who is/are their best friend(s) among companions and why?

8. What do they desire the most?

And maybe would you ever answer for Zophus too????

10. What would be the meal that give them a little ability bonus?

12. What is their alignment, and why? How do they feel about it? Do they change alignment at one point?

27. Favorite animal companion?

would you mind putting any spoiler ones below a cut for my ask plzplzplz? 😅 <3 am baby

Knight Commander Ask Game

All replies are spoiler free for the darling baby! Hi Teddy!!

1) Do they think they're going to make it out alive?

Absolutely not. From the moment that Galfrey makes her the Knight Commander, Kadira had a sensation of Impending Doom. She is dead certain that she would die before the end of the Crusade and made all the plans she could should the worst ever occur.

3) Who is/are their best friend(s) among companions and why? In her canon run, she's shy to make a best friend, though it eventually becomes Seelah and Lann. Seelah helps keeps Kadira from being judgmental from the concept of Paladins and how the concept of Good is so important to them. Lann's jokes keep Kadira sane and their sense of pending doom leads to ridiculously dark humor.

What do they desire the most?

Peace for her people, peace for Mendev, and chance for Mendev and Sakoris to thrive.

… and yes, she still wants to belong somewhere. No thank you, she doesn't wish to elaborate but she's glad you're concerned about her.

And maybe would you ever answer for Zophus too????

What would be the meal that give them a little ability bonus?

Seeing that Absalom is New York City on a Greek island (the closest to Sigil on Golarion) I'm pretty sure that PF!Zophus' favorite meal would be Souvlaki. It's tasty, high in protein, and you can munch on it while marching with your fellows in the Crusade.

What is their alignment, and why? How do they feel about it? Do they change alignment at one point?

For Kadira - Kadira is Neutral Good. There's a weariness towards the concepts of Lawful and Chaos and she's seen the very worst of both extremes. Law, order, freedom, and chaos are methods and tools to her, and not the overreaching goal of morality.

For Zophus - Zophus is on the edge between Lawful Good and Lawful Neutral, with order being a worthy 'goal' for morality. However, small children and small animals often make him flip his morals to protect them and keep them safe. Unlike his BG3!Counterpart, he worships a God but that almost seems perfunctory.

Favorite animal companion?

For Zophus - As a vanilla paladin, he'll be getting a steed! More to come on this! Though he will save all animals that he can and threaten demons should they get near them.

[spyridonya]

Enabling you! How about Zophus starting to realize his feelings for this devil are much more ... complex than they should be? 😏

Title: Borrow or Beg

Rating: General Audiences

Ship: Raphael / Tav (named)

Hope isn't the only thing that teases in the moments between.

The ache of the battle haunts Zophus with each step he took from the Rosymorn Monastery, soreness in the muscles and wounds that quite fully healed, the consistent squirming of the tadpole from barrage of senses of the ancient enemy, the realization that his sword had taken down youths barely older than himself when he wrote his name gravely on the Harmonium recruit forms when he was barely 15 cycles old.

Youth commanded by Vlaakith, and he answered in violence in kind. It was not the first time violence had been necessary to quell the chaos, but it had been the first time the command had been so swift and methodical. No one questioned the command that sung in their heads.

The discomfort he carries was well hidden from his chosen companions who were all trapped in their own thoughts from the events of the last several hours. Lae'zel eyes burned like golden fire, her silence a steel trap while Shadowheart's pensive frown adorned her between the clashes of steel and the mind. Astarion held no personal trauma of the revelation and held little concern for the targets of his arrows. 

The golden-flicker glow of the campfire began as a welcome slight as they approached from the gloom of dusk, and it only turned sour on Zophus' tongue when the half elf (aasimar, but only one person knew) caught the scent of brandy soaked cherries along with the scent of cook smoke, tinged with sulfur. 

Much to his dismay, to his thrill, he recognized the profile of the man who peeled away from the shadows of the darkness before the figure could speak. 

Firelight looked good on Raphael's skin, the copper burning glow highlighted the parcharian features of strong nose and dark brow. The shadow of his most recent shave did little to soften the royal jaw. "And what do I see coming from the shadows of evening's bearing? A forlorn champion among his comrades after glorious victory to firelight, good drink, and good food."

Zophus stops in his tracks, his steel colored gaze an all too bright as he meets the cambion's wine dark gaze. His companions do not, but their subtle acknowledgement of Raphael is varied. Lae'zel brushes brisky by, not quite touching the cambion, her distaste and arrogance muted by her world being shaken. Shadowheart lifts her chin high, pretending she's not drowning in memories that shifted from the fog of her past. Astarion slides into the darkness like well-worn gloves.

They're not quite alone as Raphael tilts his head up to look at Zophus, the brushed back locks mostly perfect and away from his forehead and carved cheeks. A stray curl mars the illusion of a perfect prince. Zophus almost reaches out. Almost.

"Bar that, we've scavenged wine almost tasting like vinegar and overly ripe vegetables," Not that Zophus could scorn that meal in his youth between Mum's death and being just old enough to lift a glaive. "What do you want, Raphael?" Zophus changes from common to vulgar infernal, the fiendish language is rough on his lips though he knows it well enough. He has a rougher time with the more formal tongue with its turns and triple meanings. 

"Oh, could you not smell the swine? The crackling of fat as it drips into the fire?" The cambion gestures towards the fire, the sweep of his hand graceful and tone companionable, "You'll eat better tonight than you have in weeks."

"Not as honestly," Zophus resorts, turning from the cambion to the shadows of the camp, his fingers working to remove the Harmonium surcoast covering his half plate. "Is that even real pig or is a nalfeshnee?" 

"Pig of course," The laugh that escapes Raphael reminds Zophus of velvet, "Would I truly waste a prize on someone I've not yet won over with promises of hope? Speaking of such, tell me angel, did you borrow from the gith or did you beg?"

"Neither." The paladin replies, punctuating with the drop of his armor on the ground. "You know as well as I do if the gith had a way to cure ceremorphosis, their tactics would reflect that." He reaches for the clasp of gorget, the memory of Shadowheart's fingers lingering there bright as a penny.

The memory does nothing to warm him as a shiver goes down his spine when Raphael's long fingers unclasp the gorget, "Good," The cambion says softly, "I would hate only to hear about the later."

Zophus turns, his gray eyes narrowing, the shadows of the night and the contrast of the fire highlighting every angle of his jaw and the dappled burn scar across his face. He should look ferocious, his expression should be stoic as the frozen wastes of Stygia as he reaches for his glaive. But the glaive isn’t there, and Zophus is suddenly glad for it. 

The aasimar’s eyes meet Raphael’s and he knows the horrors this creature before him has done. And perhaps if that moment had stretched out longer, Zophus would have lingered the horrors woven by the cambion. 

A bright bark interrupts into the dark thoughts, and Zophus turns his head to see Scratch, wagging his tail to greet him. A smile cracks across the aasimar’s handsome face before it quickly dies.

The heart-beat of these moments is all that’s needed for Raphael to take his leave, the scent of brandy soaked cherries, the tinge of sulfur, and roast of pork in the air in his wake. 

[spyridonya]

For Zophus & Raph: “ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “

I HAVE ANOTHER ENABLER! I threw Haarlep in, too. Haarlep will be given their/them pronouns due to not really being sure if masculine is their preferred form or Raphael's preferred form. Tossing in a little bit of Pathfinder lore because I like mixing my planar stuff together and D&D has a woeful amount of celestial lore. Again, using the 2nd point of view though the Named Tav in question isn't the 'reader'.

sacred romantic raph being an ass moments meme

The scent of musk in the air reminds you of embers, the appealing tangling cruelly with the sour memory of childhood. You blame that squarely on the shoulders of the incubus who rises from the tangle of sheets, limbs, and leathery wings. There was hope, of course there was, of you being caught between master and slave and the temptation still aches on your tongue.

And yet you're still here, settled on a chair that is soft and inviting under your muscular form, large enough to hold you comfortably. Your breathing is even due to effort though your blood sings in your veins and you are hard - almost painfully so - against the wool of your pants and small clothes.

One of the near identical heads rise, though you know it's Haarlep, even before you see the shockingly younger features of Raphael upon them. The appearances puzzles you, you're not sure if this is how Raphael truly sees himself or if it is a small rebellion of the enslaved fiend to be different than his master.

There's a grin that's not quite the same, but it's sharp and unkind towards the little thief that's snuck upon their master's home. Jealousy or disruption of the long game between them, you cannot tell. Wordlessly the naked fiend passes you, and you refuse to follow their wake. Rather you feel the heat of the incubus' passing.

Your gaze then returns to the cambion and you despite the fact you can easily tell them apart by motion and gesture. The movement of powerful limbs and crimson wings, ember eyes on you, the smile on carved features.

"Why does a hungry man not partake in such a feast during a famine?" Raphael murmurs in that smokey tone of his, all gravel and rumble, and not like the coy silk of Haarlep's voice.

"I've become a man now?" You respond, your voice lower than you'd like, the coloring of lust betraying you, fraying the edges of an oath made in anguish.”Not a mouse?” 

"Answering a question with a question; your blood seems not to be of an archon. An azata perhaps, the song of freedom under colorful wings,” The cambion hums with amusement, “Perhaps that is why you buckle so under the tenets of a faction that has no need of your skin."

The word azata means nothing to you; a deep sorrowful regret that you don't know your own blood. Your own life beat and how you've come about in the planes. You merely shake your head, "A creature of order criticizing a philosophy of supreme order."

"Perhaps if I were a full blooded fiend, the irony would be more apt." Raphael lifts his arms with clawed fingers laced together and stretches, the smooth ruby skin shining in the light of boudoir’s lamps and lanterns. "Shall we blame my mother who could never live up to the ideals of Baator until her death and descent? Still, there's my father. Perhaps he is even more to blame for my taste of whimsy." Wings settle about Raphael and he smiles before he begins to rise. You catch the gleam of cum on his thigh, dripping from his copulation with Haarlep.

He had wanted you to join. You had wanted to join. The only chains that bound you to your chair was your oath.

There's no snap of his fingers as he approaches you, his height and weight once there and now gone. The ruby of his skin was replaced by copper tone. Horns gone. And yet he's still naked, still muscular, but now lean. A body that betrays the lines of his carved face. That puzzle whispers to you again. Cambions are immortal, they stop aging. And yet Raphael appears to you as a man in his middle age prime and not someone closer to your own. You are a young man just settling into the second year of his third decade; twenty two.

His eyes take in your form, the slow drag of it can almost be felt and your cock aches even harder. You inhale, exhale slowly, and smell nothing but cherries and brandy. You do not reach for him as he stands before you, leaning over you, the heat of his body so terribly close.

"This is torture, isn't it, Zophus?" He murmurs, half question and half admission.

"Not in the slightest," You lie as Raphael hand catches your jaw, as you can smell Haarlep's musk on him, and as you wonder how quickly you could make the cambion come. Or how long you could make him beg. How long it would take the mask the scent of the incubus with your own.

Lying, after all, does not break your oath.

[spyridonya]

For Zophus!

14. If your OC were to dress up to show themselves off to their best advantage, perhaps for an existing partner, or in the hopes of attracting positive attention, what might they wear?

24. Has your OC ever discovered they have a turn-on or kink to which they had previously been oblivious? How did this become apparent to them?

Annual Amorous Asks!

14) Zophus has a keen awareness of what his strengths and weaknesses are in his appearance. The burn scars on the left side of his face and upper torso are something he considers a weakness and thus he prefers wearing clothing that covers him as much as possible. He wrongly believes that the scars detract intimate or soft interactions and the imbalance of features make him frightening or ugly.

However, he's aware that his physical frame is attractive. As such when trying to be attractive for a one-night-stand, the basis for much of his physical intimacy, is tailored made clothing. Tunics and shirts that show off his wide shoulders and muscular frame without showing skin is what he tends to favor. He'll also tend to sit in positions that favor his right side over his left in friendly conversations.

26) As a young man, his size and strength attracted people who preferred he take charge of things and Zophus was happy to do so. He was always a respectful gentleman about it, letting people know he was up for casual and short time interactions, and rarely presenting himself as long term. It was a comfortable situation for him, he didn't have to trust anyone and kept his independence.

It's only been recently that Zophus has considered losing control during sex and allowing someone else to take care of him. Submission is very hard for him, all his life he's had to be aggressive and strong in order to survive. Zophus is cautious about his enjoyment of submitting and being in a long term relationship, though the ability to switch with a certain cambion makes the adjustment much easier.

[spyridonya]

Last line challenge!

Tagged by @dujour13! Thank you so much! I won't be tagging anyone since this a month old and I am late.

It is the most gentle thing done to Zophus for the next several hours.

[spyridonya]

4 and 26 for the Tav you are thinking about the most?

Thank you so much, friend!

What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?

Zophus has several hobbies, and the two he'll admit to is based after 19th century hobbies. He loves sports, particular Sigl style rugby, and he's very good at it due to his height and size. He also enjoys other contact sports, notably when he was young - after all that was what he could afford to do after his mother's death. Zophus also likes reading, though he doesn't have access to many books due to him rotating in the Harmonium colonies and the Harmonium not particularly liking books that cause disorder. He maintains a scrap book with nautical themes of the sea, rivers, and oceans including boats, sea life, and landscapes.

Does your Tav have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special? If no, how do they feel about item sentimentality in general?

His hair. He insists that counts. One of his favorite memories that he can recall from childhood is sitting near the stove after a bath and his mother brushing his hair clean and told him how much he looked like his father. Zophus knows his long hair is frowned upon, but he maintains it and has learned french braid it and pin it under his helmet. In Faerun he takes the luxury of wearing his hair mostly free and long.

Among his peers, Zophus doesn't show much sentimentality out of fear of showing weakness. He maintains that among the Tadfools until a little before dealing with the goblin camp, being more protective of Karlach's stuffed animals than she is sometimes.

[spyridonya]

angry aasimar posing as a halfing while on bumfuck faerun, more at 11!

[spyridonya]

Zophus Emberbane is a plane-touched aasimar of elven heritage who was born in Sigil, a city that was considered the 'hub' of the multiverse. Raised by his mother, an elven woman named Violette, Zophus was aware he was different from most half elves and genuinely accepted he was an aasimar as he grew older. He didn't know much about his father, though his mother told him he was very much akin to an angel with the same blue-gray eyes as Zophus. Violette assured Zophus that his father loved them very much, but he went missing before Zophus was born. Zophus was skeptical, but he loved his mother, who by all accounts of his memories and by neighbors was a good woman.

Zophus and his mother lived in the Lower Wards, the working poor to lower class section of Sigil though it was named after the many portals to the Gray Wastes, the Abyss, or to Baator (the Hells). Their home was small but neat, he had three square meals, went to school, and played with friends. Unlike those raised in the Prime Material Plane, people raised in Sigil and the Outer and Inner Planes were mostly agnostic. Zophus never needed anything, though there was many times he had to go with wanting. But he was comfortable, safe, and loved.

Until he turned ten. When he was ten, the row block he lived in caught on fire that was incredibly hard to put out by mundane means. His mother died trying to get him out of the building they lived in and the fire ended up scarring his face. The Harmonium, a faction that served as the police of Sigil, would later tell Zophus that the fire might have been caused by a portal opening to a lower plane or a fiend.

Zophus took this to heart, which grew hard in the years he was in the orphanage. When he turned 15, he was tall and lanky, and smart as a whip but prone to rage and desire for revenge. Knowing he could never get proper revenge, he turned to the Harmonium and its Law-abiding ways, even knowing the faction's dark history with elven people.

The eight weeks of training was hard, and Zophus was not as orderly as he paid lip service to, but the culture kept his temper even and he found ways to channel his aggression. He was quick to go after fiends and their allies, showing little mercy, though he kept his cool among other races within Sigil. He was an exceptional fighter with a keen wit and magnetic presence that worked in his favor in explaining himself when he wasn't the perfect Harmonium. His skills were so remarkable, that he was taught how to walk the planes and worked in several Harmonium colonies throughout the planes. His conviction of righting wrongs and protecting the weak at the cost of mercy made him infamous, marking him as one of the few paladins in the faction.

Faerun was not his first visit to the Prime Material planes, it wasn't even his 5th. Rather he was there with his squad in pursuit of a criminal who used a portal to Faerun to shake them off. During his attempt to arrest the individual, Zophus was caught by illithids - who were far more infamous than he.

Some current quirks:

Zophus ages more akin to a half elf than aasimar. Though he's 37 years old, he's still younger than his 'fellow' half elf Shadowheart. This makes him roughly in his early to mid 20s in terms of maturity.

 Zophus, like most Cagers, is very dismissive of gods. When you can go to their ruling plane on a holiday, it's hard to respect them.

He respects the Lady of Pain, the 'ruler' of Sigil who keeps powerful gods and powers of the city, and as a small boy he climbed one of the highest buildings in the Market Ward to watch her pass by, avoiding her shadow and her gaze of sight. There's a slight arrogance to him because he feels like he knows far more about existence than most Primes.

However, this poor man gets easily confused with some conventions on the Prime and has a very, very hard time with the stars and sunsets.

He's not racist to most non-fiends. Goblinkin are simply just people in Sigil, raised outside the influence of their dark gods and the circumstances that might lead them to become evil. There are exceptions to this, of course, but most mundane races are treated with the same respect.

He absolutely loses his shit when Balthazar introduces Dame Ayln as an aasimar, "You barmy son of a bitch, she's a fucking demigod. Lady's tits, an aasimar my ass. All we get is a minute to zip around with glowy wings once a day, if that. I met tieflings who have fucking wings."