#dragon gate network

[pixelcafe-network]

If you're looking for an active and fun community that shares your excitement and passion for writing, creating art or other content for Anime, Manga, games and other fictional content - look no further ☕️

The Pixel Café Network is here to help you find connections with other people within your fandoms, as well as support you along the way of creating content in various ways.

We are here to bring back the fun times of 2021 tumblr by providing a safe and cozy space to connect to likeminded people.

Want to find out more? Go on an adventure in our FAQ or find out how to become a member!

[sebvael]

shalom folks! we invite you to Jewish Gamers Network - a 18+ gaming discord server for Jews by Jews.

it is primarily a gaming server focused on rpgs like Dragon Age, Mass Effect, The Witcher, Pathfinder, Warhammer 40k Rogue Trader, Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy, Life is Strange and the likes. However if you just want to hang out with fellow Jews, there’s plenty of other channels, dedicated to Judaism, creativity, ocs, tv shows, books and many more.

if you’re not Jewish, you are welcome to reblog and boost this post, but we ask you to please refrain from joining as this server is not for you.

[rathayibacter]

Rath's TTRPG Post!

Hey yall, been long enough that I should really write another of these. I'm Rath and I make weird tabletop games! I've got a lot of games already out there, and even more in the oven, so this post exists to help organize them all and give you a jumping-off point if you want to check out my work. Without further ado,

[BXLLET>

BXLLET is a post-apocalyptic cowboy game about the nature of violence. It hands players incredibly lethal characters, then asks those characters to try and find their way in the world. If all you have is a hammer, how do you stop seeking nails?

Every BXLLET character begins with a single bullet on their person, and can always spend a bullet to kill someone. Collecting more bullets unlocks your archetype's unique powers, making you an increasingly imposing threat—and juicy target. However, even as you become bloated with potential violence, you'll find plenty of problems escape easy solutions. Sure, you can always kill, but can you cut out the rot that runs deeper than any individual bandit, warlord, or capitalist? In a world fighting to rebuild itself from disaster, are you a wandering hero, or just a murderous tool of the old age? Can you help build a better future, or are you doomed to haunt its outskirts?

Thanks to two game jams and a whole lot of love, BXLLET also has a ton of additional modules, spilling over with scenarios, archetypes, factions, mechanics, and alternate settings. Here's a big list of them! Check them out, they're fucking incredible.

KATABASIS

KATABASIS is a tactical combat afterlife-crawl, where spirits fight using weapons and armor made of their emotional baggage to try and escape a surreal concrete afterlife. It's all about putting together strange builds to face off against bizarre monsters, all while meeting other stranded spirits and exploring the tangled world you're trapped in. If you delve deep enough, fight hard enough, maybe one day you can find a way to return to life.

KATABASIS is a work in progress, with the full game still a ways off. I'm currently working on the next update, The Highway Down, where players will fight their way across perilous highways tangled through a hanging city. Even so, the game's already packed with characters, equipment, monsters, and maps.

So go! Gather your painful memories, bare your petrified heart, kill the psychopomps and shatter the gates of hell. There might be no escape, but we'd rather die a thousand times more than give up looking.

Disparateum

Disparateum welcomes you to the Named City, a place at the edge of our world and the center of all others. Residents of the Named City wander across the full spectrum of possible worlds, visiting them as one might visit another neighborhood. Like KATABASIS, it's also a work in progress, but already contains pound-for-pound more raw ideas than anything I've ever written. It's a dense, strange, silly, and colorful game, and a gushing love letter to roleplaying in general.

Disparateum is a game for a Knight, a Thief, and a Seer, who explore the Named City in search of adventure and change. Here, shared dreams settle over the city at night; here, our reflections plot revenge from the opposite side of every mirror; here, dragons hold court to debate ownership of stories; here, museum corridors tangle their way through the past and into other histories; here, spiders weave a network of WiFi connections and host dense egg sacs of websites; here, sprawling statue gardens grow beneath our souls. Welcome to the Disparateum. Enjoy your stay.

Unskilled Labor

Unskilled Labor is a game about struggling to get by in the rotting corpse of capitalism. But this time, you have superpowers!

Unfortunately, the superpowers will not let you steal back the time you wasted in dead-end jobs, nor will they let you topple the system and fix everything singlehandedly. But, hey, did you really expect them to? The work to make a better world remains to be done, and maybe now it'll be slightly easier. Manifest a customer service persona to fight your friends' landlord, use perfect timing to escape the cops, coordinate supernaturally disruptive protests of an oil pipeline. Play using resumes as character sheets and calendars as battlemaps. Manage your well-being (as much as you're able), struggle against the tides of Western society, and spit in the face of authority. It's not a glamorous power fantasy, but hopefully it reminds you not to give up the fight.

Charcuterie

Charcuterie is a series of zines, each about 40 pages long, collecting various little experimental games, writings, and doodles. The first two have five ttrpgs each, four being updated versions of games I'd previously released and the fifth being exclusive to the zine. The third is instead a collection of poetry and short stories, though I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a streak of game design through it all anyway.

IMMORTAL Pop!bat 2: funK.O. (Definitive Edition)

Have you ever wanted a miniatures wargame with thirteen thousand seven hundred and ninety-nine unique statblocks? Have you ever wanted to microwave your friend's limited edition metallic blue Batman Funko Pop, but lacked the game mechanical justification to do so? Have you ever wanted to waste an entire paycheck on a terrible idea? IMMORTAL Pop!bat 2: funK.O. (Definitive Edition) has you covered. With two pages of rules and sixteen hundred pages of Pop!batants, with IP!b2:fK.O.(DE) you'll be making terrible life choices in no time.

Stationkeeping

In Stationkeeping, you've inherited a run-down satellite from your late aunt. Slowly you'll patch it up, add new rooms, and fill it with memories. The game's contained entirely on a small stack of handwritten index cards which you can carry around with you, slowly progressing the game by going out of your way to enjoy the little things in your day-to-day life.

And More!

I've got even more stuff over on itch, and I sneak occasional glimpses at my current projects into the #ttrpgs tag here on tumblr. Keep your eyes peeled!

And of course, I'm always happy to chat. If you're ever curious about something I've made or am making, if you enjoyed something or had thoughts on it, if you just wanna say hi, please reach out! Games are my passion, and I love nothing more than to talk with other passionate people. Until then, I'm signing off!

[novaursa]

The Golden Court (lady of the rock)

- Summary: You were taken from the royal court by your father when you were a child. Now you return as a woman grown from exile. A woman that ignites fires in her wake.

- Pairing: Jason Lannister/targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Note: Adult themes will progress more and more as chapters go on. This fic is pure filth and I make no apologies for it. You have been warned.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: gods can watch

- Next part: what may come

- Tag(s): @idenyimimdenial @scarletdfox @princesstiti14

The banners of House Lannister rippled in the strong coastal wind as the great procession wound its way toward the towering fortress of Casterly Rock. The sun was beginning its descent, casting shadows over the jagged cliffs that plunged into the restless waves of the Sunset Sea below. The sight of the ancient stronghold was a breathtaking one—its sheer size, its imposing stature carved into the very bones of the western cliffs, a testament to the wealth and power of the lions who had ruled it for centuries.

You sat atop your mare, the weight of the journey finally beginning to wear on your limbs, though your posture remained regal, unbothered. Jason rode ahead, the pride of a returning lion evident in the way he carried himself, his golden hair catching the late afternoon light. Tyland, ever the quieter presence, remained by your side, his green eyes taking in every detail of the preparations awaiting them at the Rock’s gates.

Above, Haelle circled, her massive wings casting an ominous shadow over banners below. Her scales shimmered like polished obsidian, streaked with veins of gold that caught the setting sun’s dying glow. The Lannister knights and bannermen shifted uneasily at her presence, some gripping the hilts of their swords despite knowing their steel was useless against a dragon. Yet Haelle paid them no mind. She had already begun her descent toward the cliffs beyond the Rock, where she would claim a new lair among the dark, cavernous hollows carved by centuries of wind and sea.

“She’s found a home,” you murmured, watching as the Nightmare Queen vanished into the cliffs, her wings folding as she disappeared into the vast network of caves that stretched along the coastline.

Jason chuckled, glancing back at you. “Good. That should keep the men on edge.” His smirk widened as he gestured toward the knights riding behind them. “No lion should grow too comfortable, lest they forget that dragons still rule the skies.”

Tyland hummed in quiet amusement, though his gaze remained fixed on the fortress ahead. “The men will adjust. It is the courtiers and nobles I am more concerned about. Dragons make for uneasy guests in halls built for lions.”

“Then they should be grateful Haelle prefers the cliffs to their precious keep,” you mused, shifting in your saddle. “She will not roost in their halls, but she will remind them that I am no mere bride to be tamed.”

Jason grinned at that, pleased. “And that is precisely why I wanted you here, little dragon.”

As the procession drew closer to the Rock’s great gates, the sound of trumpets echoed from the high walls, their call sharp and commanding, heralding the return of Casterly Rock’s favored sons. Soldiers in crimson cloaks lined the courtyard beyond, standing at rigid attention, their polished armor gleaming in the fading light. Servants hurried to position themselves, their faces carefully schooled into expressions of welcome, yet their eyes darted nervously toward the skies, as if expecting Haelle to reemerge at any moment.

At the head of the welcoming party stood Lord Alton Lannister, Jason and Tyland’s elder cousin. He watched the approaching riders with an air of satisfaction, his arms crossed as he surveyed his cousins and their infamous betrothed.

As Jason dismounted, Alton stepped forward, his deep green eyes flickering between the three of you before settling on Jason with a smirk. “So, the prodigal lion returns,” he drawled, his voice rich with amusement. “And with spoils, no less.”

Jason laughed, clasping his cousin’s arm in greeting. “I would hardly call her spoils, Alton. My betrothed would take offense to that.”

Alton’s gaze shifted to you then, his keen eyes taking in every detail as he had never seen you this close—the Valyrian pale hair, the regal bearing, the faint mark of dragonfire that lingered in your presence even without Haelle at your side. His expression was unreadable, though his smirk did not falter.

“A Targaryen at the Rock,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “The last time one of your kind was here, I recall it did not end favorably for us.”

You met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “Then let us hope history does not repeat itself.”

Alton chuckled, clearly entertained by your boldness, before turning to Tyland. “And you, cousin—ever the quiet one. I assume you have spent the journey keeping Jason from making a fool of himself?”

Tyland sighed, dismounting with his usual grace. “It is a full-time duty, I assure you.”

Jason scoffed. “Hardly. I have done nothing foolish.”

Alton arched a brow. “Other than bring a dragon to the West?”

Jason grinned. “A calculated risk.”

Alton chuckled, shaking his head before gesturing toward the keep’s entrance. “Come, the feast is prepared, just as you demanded, Jason. The hall is filled with lords eager to meet their soon-to-be lady of the Rock.” His gaze flickered back to you, his smirk deepening. “Though I suspect they may not know what to do with you.”

You tilted your chin slightly, stepping forward, your gaze unwavering. “Then they will learn.”

Jason laughed, slinging an arm around your waist as he began leading you toward the great doors. “That they will, little dragon.”

Tyland sighed. “This will be an eventful evening.”

Alton clapped him on the back as they walked. “As if I expected anything less from my cousins.”

And with that, you entered the lion’s den, where a feast of gold and fire awaited.

The golden halls of Casterly Rock gleamed under the warm glow of the torchlight as you were led through the labyrinthine corridors toward the chambers Jason had ordered to be prepared for your arrival. The stone walls, polished smooth by centuries of power and wealth, carried the scent of burning cedar and aged parchment, the air thick with the quiet hum of the keep’s endless activity. Servants scurried ahead, their heads bowed in deference, while the occasional noble or knight lingered in doorways, eyes flickering with barely concealed curiosity as they caught sight of you—the dragon in the lions’ den.

Jason walked with a self-assured ease, his hand resting lazily on the small of your back, his golden hair gleaming under the candlelight. Tyland, ever composed, walked on your other side, his gaze keen, already noting every flicker of expression from those who dared to look too long.

When the heavy oaken doors to your shared chambers were finally opened, you could feel Jason’s satisfaction even before he spoke.

The room was grand—larger than many of the guest halls in the Red Keep, its walls draped in deep crimson banners embroidered with golden lions. A great hearth dominated one side of the chamber, its flames crackling warmly, casting shifting shadows over the rich furnishings. Heavy gold-trimmed tapestries hung alongside polished candelabras, their wax dripping onto the marble floors, reflecting the wealth of the Lannisters in every inch of the space.

At the center stood an enormous bed, its frame carved from dark oak, its silken sheets a deep red, embroidered with golden thread. Furs were piled atop it, thick and luxurious, a decadent invitation for the nights to come. A smaller adjoining chamber lay beyond—Jason’s addition, no doubt, though the doors between the two rooms remained wide open, making it clear that separation was never truly an option.

Jason exhaled in satisfaction as he stepped inside, surveying the chambers as if admiring his own handiwork. “Perfect,” he murmured, flashing you a smirk before turning toward Tyland. “See? I told you I would make the arrangements myself.”

Tyland, who had barely taken two steps into the room, gave him a pointed look. “Which is why I had the servants check everything twice.” He sighed, moving toward the small desk near the hearth, running a finger along the edge as if testing for dust. “Your version of ‘preparation’ usually means throwing gold at problems until they go away.”

Jason grinned, unbothered. “And has that ever failed me?”

Tyland shot him a look but said nothing, only shaking his head slightly before turning his gaze to you. “Is it to your liking?”

You stepped further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the silken bedding before glancing around, taking in every lavish detail. The Lannisters were known for their excess, and this—this was a den of indulgence made for lions, but built with you in mind.

“It will do,” you mused, letting just enough amusement slip into your tone.

Jason scoffed, moving behind you, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist as he nipped playfully at your neck. “It will do?” he echoed, his breath warm against your skin. “Ungrateful little dragon.”

You smirked, leaning into his touch just slightly. “I expected nothing less from you, lion.”

Tyland sighed again, though there was the barest trace of amusement behind his usual restraint. He removed his gloves, setting them neatly atop the desk before turning back toward the two of you. “We should rest before the feast,” he said, though his tone held little expectation that Jason would listen.

Jason hummed against your skin, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Rest?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. “I can think of better ways to spend our first hours here.”

Tyland shot him a dry look. “Of course you can.”

Jason grinned, pulling you against him, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your hips. “We have an entire evening of dull conversation and politics ahead of us,” he mused, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Surely, we deserve something sweeter before enduring all that nonsense.”

Tyland exhaled, already anticipating this. “At least let the servants bring refreshments first.”

Jason rolled his eyes but did not argue, instead turning you in his arms, his green eyes gleaming with that familiar glint of mischief. “Fine. But don’t think I’ll be distracted for long.”

You smirked, lifting a hand to trail your fingers through his hair. “I would never dare.”

Tyland shook his head slightly, moving toward the door. “I’ll see that we aren’t disturbed—for now.”

Jason’s smirk widened as he watched his brother go, his hands already tightening their hold on you. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

And as the door shut behind Tyland, you knew—rest was never what Jason had in mind.

The great hall of Casterly Rock had been transformed into a spectacle of wealth and indulgence, a feast fit for kings and conquerors alike. Golden candelabras lined the long tables, their flames flickering over the polished silverware, casting a warm glow across the gleaming surfaces of goblets overflowing with deep red wine. The scent of roasted meats, honeyed breads, and spiced fruits filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the occasional bursts of laughter from gathered lords and ladies.

Jason had spared no expense.

As you entered the hall on his arm, flanked by Tyland on your other side, every gaze turned to you. Some were filled with curiosity, others with thinly veiled apprehension. It was not every day a Targaryen bride—a woman with dragon’s blood—walked into the lion’s den. And it was certainly not every day she did so with not one, but two Lannister men at her side, both of whom carried themselves with an ease that suggested they had already laid claim to her in every way imaginable.

Jason, of course, relished the attention.

His smirk was self-assured as he led you to the head of the table, where the seat of honor had been placed between his and Tyland’s, ensuring that all would see where you belonged. He did not release you as you sat, nor did he give any courtesy of maintaining a courtly distance. Instead, his hand remained firmly on your thigh, his touch unashamed, his fingers drawing slow, lazy patterns over the fabric of your gown.

Tyland, for his part, was more discreet—but only just. Where Jason’s touch was bold and possessive, Tyland’s was precise, his fingers grazing against the back of your hand as he poured your wine for you, his touch lingering just long enough to be noticed.

The tension in the room was palpable.

Conversation that had once been loud and unrestrained now hushed in certain corners, whispers rippling through the assembled guests as they took in the sight of their future lady—not meek, not demure, but utterly comfortable between the two golden lions who had claimed her as their own.

And he grinned.

Jason noticed, of course.

Raising his goblet, he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “They’re wondering which of us will get you first tonight.”

You smirked, lifting your own goblet to your lips. “Let them wonder.”

Jason chuckled, pleased.

Tyland, beside you, took a measured sip of his wine. “You could at least attempt subtlety,” he remarked, though there was no real chastisement in his tone.

Jason shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “Why? She is mine. She is yours. Let them choke on it.”

Across the table, Lord Alton Lannister, their elder cousin, who had taken the seat nearest to Jason, watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“You’re certainly not making it easy for them,” Alton mused, swirling the wine in his goblet. “The lords will speak of this night for years to come.”

Jason smirked. “Let them.”

Alton tilted his head, his eyes flickering toward you, considering. “And you, my lady? Do you enjoy the spectacle as much as they do?”

You met his gaze steadily, lifting your goblet. “I have never been one to shy from a spectacle, my lord.”

Alton chuckled, clearly entertained. “Good. Then you will do well here.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, his fingers tightening slightly on your thigh as he took another sip of his wine. “She will do more than well. She will rule.”

Tyland hummed in quiet agreement, his fingers tracing absent patterns over the rim of his goblet. “That is why they are afraid.”

Alton exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Afraid? No. Uneasy? Perhaps.” He glanced toward the lords seated further down the table, where whispers still lingered. “They do not know what to make of you yet.”

Jason smirked, his hand sliding just a little higher on your thigh beneath the table. “Then they’ll have to learn, won’t they?”

Your breath caught slightly at his touch, but you did not react beyond a slow, measured sip of wine. Jason’s amusement deepened at your restraint, his fingers pressing slightly, testing, teasing.

Tyland, ever observant, glanced toward him with a slight sigh. “Must you?”

Jason grinned. “Of course.”

Tyland shook his head, his lips quirking slightly before turning his attention back to the meal.

The feast continued, the tension never fully dissipating but instead shifting into something more charged, more deliberate. You could feel the eyes of the court lingering, watching as Jason poured more wine for you than necessary, as Tyland adjusted the folds of your gown when they shifted, as neither of them made any attempt to distance themselves from you in the way that highborn couples were expected to.

And you reveled in it.

Because you were no simpering maiden, no prize to be displayed and hidden away. You were Targaryen, a daughter of dragons, bound in gold and fire, and you would make them see it.

As the evening wore on, the conversations grew louder, the wine flowing freely, the unease giving way to a different kind of energy—the kind that comes when men drink too much and begin to forget their fears in the haze of pleasure and indulgence.

Jason, sensing the shift, leaned in once more, his lips grazing your ear, his voice rich with amusement. “Shall we retire soon, little dragon? Or do you want to keep letting them stare?”

You exhaled slowly, your smirk returning. “I do enjoy the attention.”

Tyland, finishing the last sip of his wine, set his goblet down with quiet finality. “And yet, we have other matters to attend to.”

Jason’s smirk widened. “Ah. Impatient, are we?”

Tyland arched a brow. “Simply practical.”

Jason exhaled, feigning reluctance as he leaned back in his chair, stretching languidly. “Very well, very well. We’ve given them enough to whisper about.”

He turned to you then, his green eyes glinting, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s go, before I take you here in front of them all.”

You shivered slightly at the promise in his voice, but you did not argue.

With a final glance around the hall, you rose—Jason at your side, Tyland following close behind. The movement did not go unnoticed. Lords and ladies watched, their gazes filled with speculation, their whispers hushed but urgent.

Jason relished it.

Tyland ignored it.

And you—

You let them wonder.

The air in their chambers was warm, the scent of cedar and the faintest trace of candle wax lingering from the flames flickering in the great hearth. The echoes of the feast still hummed through the halls beyond the thick wooden doors, muffled laughter and distant murmurs lost in the stone walls of Casterly Rock. But here, in the depths of the keep, within the chambers Jason had ensured were theirs, there was nothing but fire, the promise of the night stretching ahead, languid and unhurried.

You stepped inside first, your fingers already reaching for the delicate clasps of your gown, loosening them without hesitation. There was no need for a maid’s help, no need for the stiff formalities of courtly undressing—not here, not when you had long since learned that with Jason and Tyland, nightgowns were utterly unnecessary.

The silk slipped from your shoulders with a whisper, pooling at your feet in a heap of crimson and gold embroidery. You stepped over it without thought, unbothered, making your way toward the bed with the easy grace of someone who had long since grown comfortable in her own skin. The soft glow of the hearth flickered over your bare form as you settled onto the bed, stretching against the sheets, unashamed and utterly at ease.

Jason, who had already begun pulling at the buckles of his doublet, let out a low, appreciative hum as he watched. His eyes glinted with amusement as he tugged the garment over his head, discarding it carelessly onto the nearest chair.

“Not even a nightgown?” he mused, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “I suppose you’ve finally learned there’s no point.”

You smirked in return, resting your weight on your elbows as you watched him undress. “Why bother, when it would only end up on the floor?”

Jason chuckled, kicking off his boots with little grace, his fingers already working at the laces of his breeches. “A wise woman.”

Tyland, standing a few steps away, removed his own garments with a stark contrast to his brother’s impatience—every motion precise, methodical, each fold of fabric placed neatly rather than tossed aside. His fingers unfastened the intricate clasps of his tunic with quiet efficiency, his movements smooth, unrushed. Unlike Jason, who always shed his clothing as if it were a nuisance, Tyland treated his attire with the same measured control as everything else in his life.

You watched him for a moment, enjoying the quiet contrast between the two. Jason, golden and reckless; Tyland, steady and composed. Both of them yours.

Jason, now bare-chested, rolled his shoulders before making his way to the small table where the servants had left a tray of late-night indulgences—a pitcher of wine, sweet honeyed fruits, and a selection of small pastries still warm from the kitchens. He picked up a goblet, filling it lazily, before plucking a piece of sugared fig from the tray and taking a slow bite.

“We’ll leave for Lannisport in three days’ time,” Jason said, speaking as if it were already settled. “The procession will be grand—something worthy of both lions and dragons alike.” His smirk widened as he poured another goblet and lifted it toward you. “The Valyrian ceremony will be small, of course. Just enough to ensure the gods of old are satisfied.”

You reached for the goblet, taking a slow sip, savoring the taste of the deep red wine as you leaned into Tyland, who had finally joined you on the bed. His bare skin was warm against yours, his arm resting lazily against the pillows as he settled beside you, the weight of him solid, grounding.

“Small,” you echoed, tilting your head slightly. “Yet sufficient.”

Jason huffed a laugh, setting his goblet down as he took another bite of his dessert. “Spectacles will no doubt come later,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “There will be no shortage of idiots looking for an excuse to marvel or protest.”

You exhaled softly, rolling onto your side as you traced absent patterns along Tyland’s forearm, feeling the quiet strength beneath his skin. His fingers brushed lightly against your waist, his touch casual, familiar.

“My father will attend,” you said, voice smooth, unhurried.

Jason’s hand, halfway to another piece of fruit, paused—just for a fraction of a second.

Then, just as quickly, he resumed, plucking a slice of pear from the tray before leaning against the table, his expression unreadable for a moment.

“That’s probably for the best,” he admitted finally, his voice casual, though there was an unmistakable weight beneath it. He took a slow bite, chewing thoughtfully before adding, “Having Daemon Targaryen present will certainly deter any idiots thinking of rioting against our union.”

Tyland, who had remained quiet, watching the exchange with his usual sharp gaze, hummed in agreement. “No lord in Westeros would dare raise their voice with the Rogue Prince in attendance.”

You smirked slightly, tilting your head against Tyland’s shoulder. “And if they do, I imagine Haelle would gladly feast upon them.”

Jason chuckled, his green eyes glinting. “You make it sound like I wouldn’t enjoy that just as much.”

Tyland rolled his eyes. “Let’s not encourage a bloodbath at the wedding.”

Jason grinned, reaching for his goblet again. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, the sound soft against the flickering firelight, before sighing and sinking further into the warmth of the sheets, into the weight of Tyland’s presence beside you, into the gold and fire that had woven itself into your life so effortlessly.

Jason, finishing his wine, ran a hand through his hair before pushing away from the table and sauntering toward the bed, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Well,” he murmured, his hands already reaching for you, his gaze flickering between you and his brother. “Shall we enjoy what’s left of the night?”

Tyland exhaled, though the flicker of amusement in his gaze betrayed his own anticipation. “You never rest, do you?”

Jason grinned, sliding into the bed beside you, his hands warm, possessive. “Not when I have better things to do.”

Jason’s hands were on you the moment he slid beneath the covers, hot, greedy, entirely unashamed in his need to have you close again. His fingers traced down your spine, slow, teasing, his palm pressing into the small of your back as he pulled you against him, your bare skin molding to his like it was always meant to be.

“You’re already ready for us,” Jason murmured against your ear, his breath warm, indulgent, filled with wicked amusement. His fingers drifted lower, tracing teasing circles along your thigh. “Have you been thinking about this all through dinner?”

His smirk widened when he felt the way your body responded to his words, the way you shivered just slightly, anticipation curling beneath your skin.

Tyland, ever the quieter presence, was not so interested in words.

His hands were already in your hair, his lips pressing along the curve of your jaw, slow and methodical, entirely focused on the sensation of you against him. Unlike Jason, who always reveled in teasing, in pushing, in dragging out reactions from you, Tyland simply took—without rush, without hesitation, without anything but the quiet certainty that he would have you in the end.

You tilted your head slightly, sighing against his lips as Jason’s hands roamed lower, as his touch turned firmer, guiding, adjusting, preparing to take what was always his.

And then—

You moved.

The moment Jason shifted—the second he lined himself up, fully expecting you to submit to his grasp—you slipped from his hold, a sharp, sudden twist that left him grasping at empty sheets.

Instead, you turned, your body shifting fluidly as you climbed atop Tyland, your hands pressing against his chest, your thighs straddling his hips before he had the chance to react.

Jason let out a breath behind you, his tone half a scoff, half a huff of disbelief. “Wicked little thing.”

Tyland, on the other hand, did not laugh.

His hands immediately found your waist, his grip firm, steadying you as his green eyes darkened, all of his focus narrowing entirely onto you.

Jason shifted behind you, sitting up slightly, his smirk curving at the edges as he leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back. “You think you can deny me, little dragon?” His fingers traced down your spine, dragging slow and deliberate, his voice rich with amusement. “I’ll have you begging for me soon enough.”

You let out a breathless hum, your hands settling on Tyland’s chest, feeling the quiet, steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your fingertips. He had not spoken yet. But his focus was singular—not on Jason, not on anything else, only on you.

The stretch of him was slow, unhurried, your body adjusting as you took him fully, your pace deliberate, meant to drive him mad with the restraint he so often prided himself on.

You moved.

Tyland let out a low groan, his fingers tightening at your waist, his head tilting back slightly against the pillows as his breath left him in a quiet exhale. His control was slipping—just slightly, just enough for you to feel the way his fingers flexed, the way his jaw tightened, the way his patience frayed at the edges.

Jason, watching the scene unfold, let out a low chuckle behind you. “You enjoy tormenting him, don’t you?”

You smirked, rolling your hips just slightly, just enough for Tyland’s breath to hitch. “I enjoy many things.”

Jason hummed, pleased, though he wasn’t about to let you have all the control.

A second later, his hands were at your waist, firm and insistent, grounding you as he shifted behind you.

“You’re forgetting someone,” Jason murmured, his breath hot against the back of your neck. His hands ran along your thighs, possessive, claiming. “And I don’t take well to being ignored.”

You exhaled sharply as he positioned himself, his grip tightening, his body pressing against yours as he tried to reclaim the control you had stolen.

But Tyland—

Tyland’s focus had never wavered.

His hands flexed against your hips, his grip shifting as he guided your movements, his breath uneven, his composure slipping further, piece by piece, with every slow, deliberate roll of your hips.

Jason, impatient as ever, let out a low growl, his fingers tightening against your waist, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he pushed forward, as he refused to let you think, even for a moment, that you were the one in control.

“Now,” Jason murmured, his voice rich with promise. “Let’s see how long you last between us.”

From the moment you had shifted from his grasp, choosing Tyland first, he had made it his mission to remind you of exactly who he was. His hands never left your body, his touch firm, teasing, tormenting, his fingers tracing along your waist, down your thighs, slipping between the places where Tyland was already buried inside you, his breath hot against your skin.

But you were determined.

You held your pace, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate movements, drawing out every quiet, restrained groan that Tyland tried—and failed—to swallow down. His fingers gripped your waist, his control fraying with every shift, with every measured movement you made.

And Jason—

Jason saw it.

He saw the way you reveled in it, the way you dared to enjoy Tyland fully, and he wasn’t about to let that slide.

His smirk pressed against your neck as his fingers tightened, his voice a low murmur meant only for you. “Oh, you’re enjoying this far too much, aren’t you, little dragon?”

You shuddered, but you did not falter.

Tilting your head, you exhaled softly, your lips curving into something wicked as you continued—slow, deliberate, utterly unbothered by Jason’s provocation.

“Do I seem bothered?” you murmured, rocking your hips again, feeling the sharp inhale that Tyland took, the way his grip faltered for a moment as pleasure curled through his spine.

Jason’s chuckle was dark, indulgent. His fingers trailed down your stomach, slipping between where you and Tyland were joined, pressing just enough to make your breath catch, to make your pace falter for just a second.

“Not yet,” Jason mused, his touch calculated, knowing. “But you will be.”

You let out a sharp breath, but you refused to give in.

Instead, you leaned down, your hands bracing against Tyland’s chest, your nails dragging along the firm lines of his skin, teasing, coaxing, giving him exactly what he needed to lose just a little bit more of that infamous restraint.

Tyland let out a low groan, his fingers digging into your hips, his green eyes heavy-lidded, dark with hunger as he watched you, felt you, unraveled beneath you.

“She’s beautiful like this, isn’t she?” Jason murmured, his breath still hot against your ear, his hands gripping you as if he would tear you away at any moment. “Taking her pleasure, completely in control—until she isn’t.”

You shuddered, but you refused to be rattled.

Instead, you leaned closer to Tyland, your lips ghosting over his, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “Don’t hold back.”

That—

That nearly broke him.

Tyland cursed under his breath, his hands tightening, his hips snapping up to meet you in a sudden, sharp thrust that ripped a moan from your lips before you could stop it.

Jason grinned. “Oh, there it is.”

But you didn’t care anymore.

Because Tyland had finally let go.

The sharpness of his movements, the way his control shattered, the way he gave in completely to the way you moved over him—it was overwhelming, it was intoxicating, and it sent you spiraling far sooner than you had anticipated.

Your breath hitched, your hands clutching at Tyland’s shoulders, your body tensing as pleasure crashed over you in a wave so sudden, so consuming, that your mind barely had time to process it.

Tyland felt it. His grip turned bruising, his own restraint slipping into nothingness as he thrust up into you again and again, chasing his own high now, his green eyes burning with need.

Jason groaned behind you, his patience officially gone.

“Now you’ve done it,” he muttered, his grip tightening, his hands already shifting you. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with that, did you?”

But you were too far gone to respond, too lost in the pleasure, in the way Tyland was chasing his own, the way Jason was positioning himself to reclaim you, to remind you that neither of them would let you go unchecked.

Tyland was not often undone.

For all his measured restraint, for all his careful control, he was always the one who held steady, the one who tempered Jason’s indulgence with precision and calculation. But now—now, he was lost.

Your body clenched around him, your pleasure overwhelming, dragging him with you into that consuming abyss, and Tyland shattered.

His grip turned bruising, his hands tightening at your waist as he thrust up once, twice, before finally surrendering, burying himself deep with a involuntary groan. His head tilted back against the pillows, his composure ripped from him as he lost himself completely in the heat, in the sheer force of his own release.

And then—

He cursed.

Not in the measured, thoughtful way he sometimes did when frustrated, not in a muttered breath between clenched teeth—but raw, unfiltered, his voice rough with spent pleasure. A word in the Westerlands’ dialect—low, guttural, something obscene, something sinful, something that had Jason laughing the moment he heard it.

“Well, well, brother.” Jason’s voice was thick with amusement, his smirk utterly wicked as he watched Tyland’s composure unravel completely. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Tyland’s breath was still uneven, his chest rising and falling in the aftermath, his fingers flexing against your waist as he tried to ground himself, tried to regain even a shred of that infamous restraint.

You sighed, your limbs lax, your body still trembling in the wake of your own pleasure, the heat of Tyland’s release still thick between you. But there was no time to settle, no time to recover—

Not when Jason was still waiting.

The bed shifted, and before you could fully catch your breath, you felt his hands on you.

Jason wasted no time—rolling you off Tyland with ease, manhandling you onto your stomach, his grip unyielding, entirely possessive. The sheets were warm beneath your skin, and before you could even shift, his hands were pressing against the small of your back, pinning you down, holding you in place.

“Not so fast, little dragon,” Jason murmured, his voice rich with satisfaction. “You seem to have forgotten—” his fingers brushed along your spine, teasing, taunting, spreading you open for him “—that you denied me my turn.”

Tyland let out a breathless exhale, still coming down from his high, but his gaze flickered toward Jason with an expression that could almost be called irritated.

“Gods damn you, Jason,” he muttered, his voice still rough, his muscles still taut from his release.

“That’s two curses from you tonight.” His smirk widened as he positioned himself, his grip tightening. “Maybe I should deny you more often if this is the result.”

Jason laughed.

Tyland exhaled heavily, his hand running through his tousled hair as he leaned back against the pillows, eyes dark with lingering satisfaction, yet edged with exasperation. “Do whatever you want, just let me breathe for a moment.”

Jason grinned, pleased, triumphant, as he leaned down, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

“Breathe all you want, brother,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your hips as he snapped his own hips forward, filling you in one deep, unrelenting stroke.

Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping as he pushed in fully, stretching you once more, his body solid, his presence overwhelming.

Jason let out a low, satisfied groan, his grip tightening further as he pressed you down into the sheets, ensuring there was nowhere to move, nowhere to escape.

“But she—” he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction, his next thrust deeper, harder, pushing you fully against the mattress “—won’t be catching her breath for a while.”

And with that—

Jason took back what was his.

Jason never held back.

From the moment he claimed you again, there was no patience, no restraint—only raw, unrelenting possession. His hands bruised against your waist, his grip firm, unyielding, keeping you pinned beneath him, unable to move, unable to do anything but take everything he gave you.

His pace was brutal, demanding, reckless, every thrust sharp, deep, devastatingly precise—just on the edge of too much, just enough to steal your breath, to make you tremble beneath him, to leave you unable to tell where pleasure ended and pain began.

“Fuck, Jason—” The words barely slipped past your lips before he cut you off with another sharp snap of his hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

Jason grinned against your skin, his breath hot, indulgent, his amusement palpable. “What’s that, little dragon?” His fingers tightened on your hips, dragging you back against him, making you feel every inch of him. “Can’t handle it?”

You let out a gasp, your nails scraping at the sheets, your body helpless beneath the sheer force of his rhythm.

Jason chuckled darkly. “You had your fun with Tyland, but now—” he pressed a lingering kiss against the back of your shoulder, his next thrust sharp, punishing, ripping another sound from your lips, “—it’s my turn.”

You moaned, unable to hold back, unable to stop the way your body responded to him, the way your pleasure built in searing waves, threatening to consume you.

Jason groaned, his hands roaming down your back, gripping, claiming, pressing you even further into the mattress as he buried himself deeper. “Fuck, you feel so good like this—completely mine.”

A small, breathless laugh came from beside you.

Tyland, who had been recovering, reclining lazily against the pillows, watching the display with lingering satisfaction, let out a low exhale.

“You’re going to wake the entire castle.” His voice was smooth, but edged with dry amusement.

Jason huffed a laugh, his next thrust just as rough, just as consuming, as if proving a point.

“Let them wake.” His grin widened against your skin, his lips dragging along your shoulder as he rocked into you again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way your breath hitched. “Let them hear exactly how well she takes me.”

Tyland sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his eyes flickering over the scene before him with lingering heat, but also with something like exasperation. “Gods, Jason.”

“What? Can’t handle another round so soon?” His teeth grazed against your skin, his voice a low, satisfied purr. “I expected better from you, brother.”

Jason grinned, entirely unrepentant.

“Not all of us have your lack of restraint.”

Jason chuckled, his hands gripping you even tighter, his next thrust turning just a little more ruthless, just a little more possessive. “Lucky for you, I have enough for both of us.”

For a moment, you thought you had regained some semblance of control.

A shift—just a slight adjustment beneath Jason’s weight, just enough to tilt your hips, to relieve some of the pressure. But the instant you moved—the moment you twisted even slightly beneath his grip, his next thrust drove into you at a new angle, striking something devastating, something overwhelming, something that sent a wave of sensation—half pain, half unbearable pleasure—crashing through your body.

You gasped—no, you cried out, your hands clenching the sheets, your breath catching in a sharp, involuntary sob of sensation.

Jason froze for a fraction of a second, his hands tightening on your waist as he felt the way your body shuddered beneath him.

His laughter was dark, indulgent, dripping with satisfaction.

“Oh. That was a mistake, wasn’t it?” His voice was wicked, knowing, his hands dragging you back against him, as if daring you to shift again. “Sensitive there, little dragon?”

You trembled, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of the sensation, still reeling from the way it had stolen your breath, made you momentarily forget how to think, how to breathe.

Jason’s grin was sharp against your shoulder, his breath hot, triumphant.

“That’s good. That’s very good.”

Then, he moved again.

The next thrust was slow, deliberate, pressing right against that spot inside you, dragging another helpless, shuddering moan from your lips.

Jason groaned, satisfied, entirely encouraged by the way you responded, by the way you trembled against him.

“Fuck, you feel even better when you can’t stop yourself,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let’s see if I can make you scream, hm?”

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything but press your forehead against the sheets, trying and failing to suppress the broken sounds spilling from you as he thrust again, again, again, each movement slow, deep, devastating.

Tyland, who had been watching from his place against the pillows, running a hand through his hair, finally sighed.

“You’re going to break her, Jason.” His voice was calm, but edged with amusement.

Jason chuckled, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. “She’s not broken yet. But she will be.”

Then, with a sudden, sharp snap of his hips, he groaned, his breath catching slightly, his rhythm faltering just a bit as he exhaled through his nose.

He was close.

And he wanted to take you down with him.

Jason’s grin widened, his grip tightening as he glanced toward his brother. “Are you just going to sit there like an old man, or are you going to take her properly with me?”

Tyland let out a long breath, rubbing his fingers against his temple as if Jason’s existence alone gave him a headache. “You are such a crude fucking bastard.”

Jason laughed, entirely unbothered.

“Yes, yes, but I’m a crude bastard who knows exactly how much she wants this.” His fingers tightened at your waist, his movements never stopping, never relenting. “Come on, Tyland—do it properly, like you always do.”

He moved toward you.

Tyland exhaled sharply, shaking his head. But—his green eyes flickered with something darker, something inevitable.

Jason grinned, victorious. “That’s more like it.”

Tyland moved with quiet precision, as he always did—not rushed, not reckless, but deliberate, calculated. His hands skimmed over your waist, firm but not bruising, his touch a stark contrast to Jason’s relentless grip, and then, before Jason could even react, he pulled you away from him.

The shift was sudden, unexpected, and Jason hissed at the loss of control, his fingers flexing against your skin as you were pulled from his grasp, turned onto your side, no longer pinned beneath him.

You let out a breath, your body shuddering slightly at the abrupt change in position, at the brief moment of reprieve after Jason’s relentless pace.

Jason’s eyes flickered with irritation and something sharper—something possessive.

“What the fuck are you doing, Tyland?” His voice was low, dangerous, threaded with the annoyance of a man who had been momentarily denied his claim.

Tyland, entirely unbothered, adjusted himself behind you, his chest pressing against your back, his hands settling against your hips as he positioned himself with the same methodical precision he applied to everything in life.

“Reminding you that you are not the only one who gets a say in how this plays out.” His voice was smooth, composed, but there was an underlying edge, a quiet challenge.

Jason huffed a short laugh, though his grip on your thigh remained firm, unyielding. His smirk curled, sharp and knowing.

“Oh, you think you’re in control now?” He exhaled, his hands sliding down your leg before gripping just beneath your knee, shifting you, opening you up further as he rolled his hips into you again. His next thrust was slow but deep, forcing another breathless moan from your lips.

Jason grinned, watching your expression closely. “Doesn’t feel like control to me, brother.”

You barely had time to react before you felt Tyland behind you, his body pressing flush against yours, his breath warm against your neck, his fingers tracing down your stomach, over the places Jason had already claimed.

Your breath caught.

Jason’s smirk deepened, but his rhythm did not falter.

“See? She feels it too.” He exhaled sharply, his voice rich with satisfaction. “The two of us at once—it’s almost too much for her.”

Tyland’s grip tightened slightly at your waist, his movements slow, careful, letting you adjust, letting you feel the shift, feel the way you were stretched between them, filled completely.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice quieter than Jason’s but no less commanding. “Breathe, princess.”

You did.

Barely.

Jason groaned, his hands tightening. “Oh, she won’t be able to do much of that for long.”

And then—

They moved in tandem.

And you—

You forgot how to think.

The rhythm they found together was unrelenting, consuming, their movements coordinated without needing to speak, as if they had done this a thousand times before, as if their bodies knew exactly how to complement each other.

Jason set the pace—firm, possessive, unwavering—while Tyland followed, controlled yet no less commanding, his grip steady, his movements slow at first, letting you adjust, letting you take them both.

You gasped, your hands clenching at the sheets, trying to brace yourself, trying to accommodate them both as they stretched you, filled you, left you completely at their mercy. Your body shuddered, trembling with every thrust, every push, every inch of them claiming you at once.

Tyland groaned, low and quiet, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt the way you adjusted for them, the way you instinctively moved, the way you tried to take them both without faltering.

“Fuck, princess,” he murmured, his breath uneven against the back of your neck. “You’re perfect like this.”

Jason laughed breathlessly, his green eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. “Oh, I can feel you, brother.” His smirk widened, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed deeper, his pace never faltering, his confidence unwavering.

Tyland let out a sharp exhale, his breath catching slightly as they continued moving, finding a rhythm that was devastating, inescapable, their bodies aligned in a way that sent another helpless moan slipping past your lips.

Jason’s grin only grew.

“She likes this far more than she ever thought she would.” His voice was mocking, indulgent, his pleasure laced with satisfaction. “You can feel it too, can’t you, Tyland? The way she clenches around us? The way she’s trembling?”

Tyland’s fingers flexed, his lips parting slightly, his usual measured composure cracking at the edges.

Jason caught his expression—the tension in his jaw, the way his breath hitched slightly with every thrust, the way his grip tightened on you, the way he was losing himself just as much.

And Jason—Jason found it amusing.

Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them.

This arrangement—this sharing, this careful balance of push and pull, of claiming and surrendering—had started as something neither of them had planned.

And yet—

They both enjoyed this more than either of them had ever anticipated.

Tyland, who had always been so composed, so measured, had never imagined this. But now, as he watched Jason’s expression, as he felt you between them, as he felt your body quivering beneath them—he knew he had no intention of stopping.

Jason, always indulgent, always greedy, had never been one for compromise. And yet—

This?

This was perfect.

Neither of them wanted to let go.

And as their pace quickened, as their breaths grew heavier, as the pleasure built into something devastating, consuming, undeniable—

The tension coiled between the three of you, thick, heavy, inescapable. Their rhythm had turned frenzied, their control slipping into nothingness, their bodies moving in tandem, claiming, taking, consuming. You had lost all sense of time, of thought, of anything beyond this—beyond them—beyond the way they filled you, stretched you, overwhelmed you.

It built like a storm on the horizon, slow at first, then unstoppable, devastating, inevitable.

Jason’s breathing had turned ragged, his movements bordering on reckless, his usual smirk replaced by something darker, something deeper. Tyland had long since abandoned his restraint, his grip tight, his composure utterly shattered, his voice raw as he groaned into your skin.

And you—you were unraveling between them, coming apart completely, utterly at their mercy, taken from both sides, caught in the overwhelming push and pull of their bodies.

Then—

It hit.

Your body seized, pleasure crashing through you so violently that the only thing keeping you from collapsing was the way they held you, the way they surrounded you, the way their hands gripped you as if grounding you to reality.

Jason groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening painfully as he buried himself deep, his own pleasure tearing through him like wildfire. His teeth scraped against your shoulder, his fingers bruising against your hips as he shuddered, as he lost himself, as he claimed you entirely.

Tyland wasn’t far behind—his breath turned ragged, his jaw clenched, his fingers digging into your waist as he thrust once, twice, before finally succumbing, his body shuddering violently against you, his release spilling deep, his control utterly broken.

For a moment—a single, fleeting moment—all three of you stayed like that, tangled together, chests heaving, bodies trembling in the aftermath.

Then—

They pulled away.

And you felt the loss immediately.

A sharp, aching sensation, leaving you exhausted, shaking, trembling as your body tried to adjust to the sudden emptiness. Your breath was uneven, your skin flushed, every part of you still sensitive, still tingling with the aftershocks of what had just happened.

Tyland moved first.

He always did.

His hands, still warm, steady, guided you toward him, pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed you close, grounding you, soothing you. His fingers ran slowly up and down your back, his breathing slowing, calming, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

He whispered something soft, something meant only for you, his voice still rough, still hoarse from his own release.

Jason, meanwhile, was entirely unbothered.

Unlike Tyland, who immediately sought to comfort, to tend, to care, Jason merely stretched, exhaling a deep, satisfied sigh, entirely content.

He rolled onto his back, his golden hair a mess, his body still humming with pleasure, and let out a long, exaggerated breath.

Then—

“Well. That was fucking fantastic.”

Tyland huffed a quiet breath, shaking his head slightly against your hair. “Must you ruin the moment?”

Jason grinned, utterly unapologetic.

“Oh, come now. I think we should all be celebrating how well that went.” He smirked, propping himself up on one elbow, glancing between the two of you, his green eyes still dark with satisfaction.

Then, his smirk widened. “Wine?”

Tyland let out a slow, exasperated sigh.

You laughed, breathless, exhausted, but entirely at ease.

Jason grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

And just like that, the three of you settled back into comfort—into warmth, into indulgence, into the quiet luxury of knowing you had all the time in the world.

[goosebasedcryptid]

How do you do fellow asoiaf nerds

Please (please) enjoy this map I made for a King's Landing metro network this summer

Here are some Facts (a lot of them are based on the Paris metro because I have to suffer through it daily)

- There are tunnels that connect the Jaehaerys, Alchemists and Alysanne stations and the signs are so unhelpful you will lose 10 minutes going around in circles every time

- Septon Barth was supposed to be called "Maegor" when lines 5 to 7 were announced but due to the public's opinion they changed it (this is because I originally named the station Maegor wtf was I thinking)

- Lines 3 and 2 have different fares if you want to go to the airports or the harbor

- Some portions of line 6 around High Hill and Aegon I are above ground, the stations and rails have become prime street art real estate, and the neighbourhood around it is gentrified as f

- Line 4 is always late or crowded and the seats have bedbugs

- The station at the Dragonpit is designed to look like a cave and has really cool decorations with fake dragon bones and reproductions of historical artefacts and lore.

- Line 7 was supposed to be a full loop but the rich neighbourhoods on Aegon's Hill and around on Red Keep didn't want the metro running through their backyards. So if you want to go from the River Gate to the Iron Gate you either have to go all the way around the city walls or ride 4 successive lines.

Please critique and suggest improvements and or/fun facts of your own

[auraisereigh]

"A darkness in ash"

Chapter three

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Now that Star is back at Riorson house, she faces all the ashes that have been left behind. wc: 3.4k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Grief and loss, All the emotional hearbreaking stuff. Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names. A/N: This is pretty much one scene, but its a heartbreaking one. i'm sorry. It's short but the next chapters are longer. <3

Star's masterlist main masterlist

The walk to Riorson house is uncomfortably quiet.

Felix helps Brennan with walking back while I carry the stuff. Brennan's dragon, Marbh, is flying over us. Felix gave the green light that it was safe for him to fly.

But I can tell Felix is keeping things from me. I've come to know him too well in a few months to know that.

We quietly make our way to Riorson house. It's quiet, too quiet, everything is too quiet. Not even some noise from the city.

We use the front gates seeing as I apparently blocked the back door on my way out two weeks ago. Once we turn the corner to the gates my heart hollows.

Ash. It's all ash.

I stop in my tracks dropping my pack. Aretia has been burned to ash. There are no people in sight, not a single person.

I sink through my legs, looking out over what used to be my home. Felix crouches beside me, a hand on my shoulder as the first tear fall.

"Wha- what happened?" I managed to get out through the lump in my throat. My hands tremble against the ground.

"When the battle ended a few dragons stayed close, Nevarrians riders. Not even a day later they burned it all down. Everything that could catch fire did." Felix explains, his soothing voice reminding me to breathe. "Some people got away..... But most..." He doesn't need to finish his sentence, I know what he means.

Me and Felix stay there for what feels like hours. Just looking over at the remains of what used to be the capital of Tyrrendor. I cry, sob and recover before he pulls me to my feet.

He shoulders my pack and helps me inside the fortress. "Brennan has been brought to the infirmary. We still have some people here, he's in good hands." He reassures me but all I hear is the quietness in the fortress, almost the same as outside. Just in here you hear people talking but not like how it used to be.

Felix leads me to what used to be the meeting room that also holds my father's throne. He leads me to it and sits me down on the throne, the soft velvety cushion dipping beneath my weight.

He walks to the long table, dropping my pack on it. Then he turns to me and leans against said table.

My body relaxes against the cushion, my body has been worn out from the last two weeks. The throne still has a faint scent that I recognize as my dad's. I wonder where he is, maybe in his own office but wouldn't he have come then if he heard I'm back? Wouldn't he have brought Xaden back here. I open my mouth to ask when Felix holds his finger up, silencing me. I raise a brow at him, I'm not used to people silencing me, and especially if I have not even said a word.

"We need to talk." He starts, his voice sounding like he doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Go on." I say avoiding eye contact. He sighs, his hands holding onto the table.

"Like I said earlier, Nevarrian riders burned Aretia down, some people got away, those are hiding in cave networks and we're slowly working to get them out of there." Good, if anything I'll offer sanctuary here, this place is big enough anyway. I look at Felix knowing there is more he isn't telling me. His hand goes to his beard. "Listen there is some news I have to tell you won't like, it's why I brought you here, where no one can see you." He stands up straight walking closer to me.

"We lost the battle of Aretia, all the Rebellion leaders were... Captured." My heart flies in my throat. "Your father was interrogated, I'm assuming all of them were." Is it possible that my heart beats even faster? interrogated. Tortured. I immediately get an image in my head but I quickly get it away from my mind. "They were all executed three days ago, I'm sorry. Your father is gone." His voice is soft and my heart stops. No, he can't be gone.

"You're lying." My voice wobbles, my hands tremble and tears build up in my eyes. His eyes soften even more. "I'm sorry." He responds walking closer and crouching Infront of the chair. I sit back in the chair, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"They were all executed by dragon fire." A sob breaks through my throat. The tears I had been holding up finally breaking loose, streaming down my cheeks. "You're lying...You're lying." I repeat over and over, he can't be gone. He promised me every night he would never leave. I cry like I never have before, a deep hollow pain consuming me. A darkness filling the light he left.

Felix walks closer as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him and I hold onto him like he's my last string to life.

I cry until there is not one year left to fall, when I have a headache and my heart feels hollow, empty.

I'm still in the chair, my father's throne. The headache intensifies at the thought.

"Where?" My voice is rough as I ask the question. "Calldyr." Felix responds immediatly, giving me the answers that I crave. "And my brother? Where's he? Or Bodhi, Garrick?" It's a simple question. "All the rebellion children are also in Calldyr." I look up at him so fast that the room spins. He holds me steady on the chair. "They're not on the execution list. Xaden made a deal, all the children would live but at the age of Twenty they have to go into the Riders quadrant to prove their loyalty to the kingdom. All children are to be put in different Houses all over Navarre. All loyalists." He looks me right in the eye while explaining it. Like he wants to ensure I hear him.

"We've been trying to contact a few who almost sided with your father in the hopes we can bring a few back here or make a deal. Your brother is at Lewellen." Lewellen stayed loyal to us during the rebellion, but they never said it out to the public. "If we can contact them...?" I say starting a train thought. "We might be able to bring him back here, alongside Liam Mairi who has also been brought to House Lewellen." He finishes, his voice holding a hint of hope.

I nod standing up from the chair. That chair, that throne and this room hold too many painful memories at the moment.

"Take it easy." Felix voice warns. "Eat something, get some sleep. We're still waiting for Lewellen to respond. Until then we can't do much. You'll be the first to know once a letter arrives." I nod again, not finding it in me to use my voice as I walk out the massive door to the infirmary they said Brennan would be at.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd

[astarionconsort]

Ascendant Astarion post ascension life. List of what he would do

Hosting many kind of parties from a masquerade, soiree, wine tasting, even brunches with the noble

Going shopping and updating his wardrobe, this guy wanted to be the flashiest, fanciest looking noble in town but my Tav would insist he needs to be 'muted' a bit as in 'quiet' luxury so people won't judge him as a new money social climber

Hunting! No longer the lord ascendant would hunt for human blood, no, he would spend the time learning to wield a magical musket so he could hunt with other aristocrat, networking and showing off

Swimming and chilling by the poolside in his palace or mansion. It's good to be alive and enjoying the sun, no? And he's the only vampire (besides his consort) who can do it

Travel the world and going on a food adventure! He wanted to taste everything Faerun has to offers including the food and drinks with his beloved!

Adopting a dragon and raised it from egg because my Tav is a draconic sorcerer and revering dragon, also why the hell not? It is a great way to flex!

Catching up with the law in Baldur's Gate and find a way to influence/changing it for his own gain of course

Choosing people he'll turn into his spawn and integrated into his own army, the right kind of people from beggars and thieves for spying, to aristocrat that he can control

Spending the time with his darling lovely consort (⁠｢⁠`⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠｢

Planning to take over the world with his consort as well (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

[psyoni]

Hi) I'm back! With new style and with increased abilities!

Agregor on DA and Tumblr, and Neuro Oni on other social networks.

I draw all my arts by myself (without artificial intelligence intervention) Currently I am in the process of playing through the game Baldur's Gate 3 (a cult series of games set in the world of Forgotten Realms and a system of rules and combat from Dungeons & Dragons) And I'm absolutely delighted!) In style, it is very reminiscent of the old game Neverwinter Nights 2 and the first Dragon Age. The whole thrill of these games is that the party members (or NPCs) you meet in the game’s plot behave as if they were alive - they interact with you and with other characters. They love, hate, tease each other. With them you can start and develop a love line (romance)! Of course, I started playing as a character - a tiefling - a cross between a demon and a human.) They are my favorite race since the days of Neverwinter! And, of course, my crush in BG3 was none other than Karlach. Despite the fact that she is also a tiefling, a barbarian, a berserker, with the appearance of a biker’s girlfriend and with a mover instead of a heart, she turned out to be very kind and humane) That's why my first BG3 art is dedicated to her!

Soon expect new art from me on BG3 and more)

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! PLEASE, NOTE ME, IF YOU ARE INTERESTED

[paulagnewart]

Trans40mers Pt. 3/12: Freebies Are the Right of All Sentient Beings!

Where did that last month go? Probably the same place this post's initial opening paragraphs centering around themed coincidences and free Hasbro-affiliated goodies ended up.

Ah well. No need for long-winded introductions, let's dive right in.

19th March 2016: Hoping to win back the youth crowd, notoriously conservative-pandering media machine Herald Sun release a free set of Transformers-themed Top Trumps trading cards. They're made available to hundreds of participating newsagents in Victoria (& some for NSW).

-=-=-=-=-=-

For over two centuries Australia has enjoyed mutual cultural ties with the United Kingdom. Many like Cricket, Fish & Chips, Action Man and Gogglebox stood the test of time and became beloved hits. Others not so much. Despite its status as a popular, long-running children's pastime, Aussies were notably late to the Top Trumps party.

Their first 'major' publicity push came in the April 2004 edition of K-Zone magazine, who devoted a half-page "exclusive" article boasting how it "already has a cult following in the UK" and won said Toy Fair's 2002 Game of the Year. Elsewhere this issue featured a splash page promoting various decks including Marvel Comic Heroes, Buffy, Star Wars, Dinosaurs, and The Simpsons.

But 2004 was a tough year for cards. Spurred on by Pokémon and Dragon Ball Z, competition was fierce among companies over who could win the quadrangle. Against new Yu-Gi-Oh!, Duel Masters, Neopets, plus Croftminster's Genio or Myths & Legends cards, Top Trumps faced an uphill struggle living up to its "most addictive card game you're ever likely to play!" claim.

When 2016 rolled along, Transformers scored their first 'retro' deck. Presenting a cutout token earned newspaper readers one of four free packs; Shopkins and Adventure Time over the previous weekend, while Transformers united with My Little Pony. Some 919 newsagents participated in this event, but a paltry 40 were located in New South Wales (6 from Broken Hill alone) and a lone 1 represented Canberra.

Fans already put off supporting Rupert Murdock's racist rag found further disappointment when opening its plastic wrap. The box paraded a mighty montage of Marvel era illustrations, yet each card used reproduced 1984-5 toy packaging art on white backdrops likely sourced, as many did at the time, from Botch the Crab's excellent archive. Tech Specs faced creative liberties, character choices bizarre, plus an overwhelming number of Autobots left budding players bewildered.

"How do you do fellow kids?" indeed.

21st March 2003: Australia scored its first ever official Happy Meal promotion. McDonald's import and repackage all 8 USA Transformers Armada characters slated for sale over 4 weeks, until Megatron and Demolishor are recalled when real-world events label them "war toys".

-=-=-=-=-=-

After the half-hearted, half-a-toyline that was Robots in Disguise, Hasbro Australia were banking on Armada giving the brand a big boost of confidence.

First out the gate were Big W, stocking shelves with the second wave of toys just in time for Christmas 2002. Other retailers joined in by late January, by which point Hasbro went hard with cross-promotions. Those scallywags Jade and Ryan gave a glowing review in Cheez TV's toy testing segment. The 2nd anniversary edition of Mania magazine devoted two pages covering the series' history and introduced fans to new favourites like Alexa, Bureshock and Star Scream. Warner Vision scored the DVD rights, and with a Melbourne-produced video game in the pipeline, 2003 was shaping up to be Year of the Transformers.

But when Dreamwave's spinoff comic was skipped by newsagents, nor space to air the anime on Cartoon Network or Channel Ten until July and August respectively, they needed material to maintain momentum and fast. In stepped McDonald's who, in a first for its time, brought over all 6 toys from their 2002 USA campaign. Swapping out Hello Kitty for Ohio Art's Betty Spaghetty, young fans guzzled cheap fast food, saved their $5 Toys R Us voucher, then logging onto the Happy Meal website for a chance to win over $300 worth of toys.

Wait. All 6?

One day before this promotion began, Australia's Government ordered SAS troops in the Persian Gulf to join a US-led 'Coalition of the Willing' and launch mass strikes on Baghdad. "Countdown to Conflict!" blared across the news. Disney Adventures magazine's feedback column filled with letters from readers who "feel scared and sometimes unsafe". The War in Iraq had begun, and after witnessing mass anti-war protests across our cities, McDonald's ordered Megatron and Demolishor with their controversy-causing tank modes be swiftly scrubbed from stores.

Yet again Transformers were embroiled in real-world conflict, and yet again Australia banned a Megatron toy for being too realistic.

25th March 1996: Speculation mounted among locals at alt.toys.transformers over whether or not Hasbro Australia would import Kenner's brand new Beast Wars toyline. This soon hit a peak when Melbourne fan David Golding logged on to proclaim the series had been discontinued.

-=-=-=-=-=-

"Transformers DISCONTINUED?" may sound like yet another buzzword-boasting, self-aggrandizing social media effluencer's conspiracy theory video, but for fans pondering the fate of Cybertron's finest nearly 30 years ago, a message title like that meant nothing short of serious business.

Better people on better sites have waffled philosophically how The Transformers were in terminal decline. Those glory days of being crowned Toy of the Year had long passed, and not even a nation like Australia who enjoyed ten unbroken years of plastic robot action were immune. They survived He-Man. They survived Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They survived The Simpsons. But stiff competition from superheroes, Matchbox Action System and the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers looked to be their undoing.

Easter and a potential sales spike was two weeks away. If Hasbro hoped Cheez TV's 7am repeat run of Generation Two would elevate interest, they were quashed days later when Power Rangers introduced Australia's own Katherine "Kat" Hillard to the team. Ninjor powered heroes were in, while unsold Laser Rods, Rotor Force and Classics Combiners languished in discount bins.

Speculation on the brand's future flooded from emails over to then-juggernaut watering hole alt.toys.transformers. Eyebrows were raised when one user delivered "bad news for Australian Tf fans, it looks like we AREN'T getting Beast Wars down here. I ran hasbro today and they said they weren't carrying TFs this year.", but Golding's later proclamation drew the most discourse.

"I live in Melbourne, Australia, and at a toyshop recently I was told that the Transformers line had been discontinued. I would like to know if this was errant b******t on the part of the toyshop owner, or if this is really true?"

The comment was evaluated, dissected and criticized by fans both local or overseas. And while Beast Wars did eventually arrive in time for Christmas, those next 9 months would prove an ultimate challenge for diehard Aussie fans.

31st March 2023: Taronga Zoo Sydney and Western Plains Zoo Dubbo culminate their Hasbro partnership with the official Rise of the Beasts Roar & Snore Experience. Over five nights, a select few lucky fans (and celebrities) are treated to a beastly Base Camp under the stars.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Is it truly a Transformers movie without heavy emphasis on promotional contests? Be it humble days of free posters and toys in late-1986, Civic Video's colouring page for free toys come 2007, right up to an Oliver Brown sponsored New York trip complete with… free toys. This may be a series built on change, but as Airazor once proclaimed, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Not since the long-forgotten Transformers stage show at Louisville Zoo had fans witnessed their favourite robots duke it out among nature. Unusual for the time, but after two generations plus a new film built on 90's eco messages and character nostalgia looming over the horizon, promoting the brand at two wildlife sanctuaries were simultaneous strokes of creative and obvious genius.

The contest began on 9th January and focused on zoogoers wandering around to complete their free Beast Power character map. Dubbo's visitors were assigned to locate and decode a message among each Maximals' signature animal; Siamang, Ostrich, White Rhinoceros, Cheetah and African Wild Dog. Sydney on the other hand received their own set of beasts in the forms of Western Lowland Gorilla, Andean Condor, Asian Elephant, Sumatran Tiger and Corroboree Frog. Once complete, the decoded message was submitted online and in with the chance to win.

Quite the generous contest in itself, but Taronga were only getting started. A week later, obnoxious stickers slapped on by underpaid workers littered figures across every Big W. They boasted more prizes; 10 guided zoo tours, 100 free entries, 100 movie tickets plus another round of overnight stays at the newly-branded Beasts Base Camp.

Parents, celebrities and social influenza fans who believe the brand revolved around them flocked at the chance to attend. And thus those nights soon came to pass; drinks, cheese patters, twilight tours, selfies and more free toys awaited them, all under the watchful gazes of life-sized Optimus Prime and Optimus Primal statues.

[bellasmumblingsandmusings]

Act II Begins: The World of Vampires in What Could Have Been

Hello my lovelies! I have a special Musings this Thursday night, and I am hoping you will enjoy it! Basically I have spent the last year (gods has it be that long already?!) working on this story. As we enter Act II of the tale, we see that we have Sima beginning to be more and more intrigued by the world of vampires in Faerun and the power she could wield. This Musings article goes into how my world differs from that of established lore and gives a few ideas on what's to come. This is your SPOILER WARNING for the future chapters and themes behind the fic! Scroll at your own risk

-Bella After the jump!

Crafting the Shadows: Building a Vampire Society in Faerûn

When it comes to writing vampire society in the vast and storied world of Faerûn, there’s a rich tapestry of lore and traditions to draw from, particularly within Dungeons & Dragons. Sources like Van Richten’s Guide to Vampires and Curse of Strahd provide foundational insights into how vampires operate, thrive, and vie for power. However, my goal wasn’t just to replicate what already exists but to expand on it, subvert some of the established norms, and create a society that feels both authentic to D&D and uniquely my own.

Inspirations from the Lore: Setting the Stage

In classic D&D settings, vampire lords are often depicted as solitary figures of immense power, ruling over their domains with an iron grip. They are figures of terror and cunning, maintaining control through a mix of fear, manipulation, and brute force. The male dominance in these hierarchies is almost ubiquitous, with figures like Strahd von Zarovich embodying the archetype of the patriarchal vampire lord whose rule is unquestioned and whose methods are ruthless.

This traditional setup typically involves vampire lords with extensive networks of spawn, thralls, and lesser undead who enforce their will. Power dynamics are strict, with the vampire lord at the top and their subordinates expected to obey without question. In Faerûn, the presence of figures like Artor Morlin, the vampire lord of Waterdeep, underscores this model. Morlin, in his pursuit of curing vampiric weaknesses, embodies the archetypal vampire who seeks not just to dominate but to transcend the limitations of his kind—reflecting a broader desire for ultimate control and perfection within undead hierarchies.

Expanding the Lore: A New Vision for Vampire Society

While these traditional elements set a strong foundation, I was interested in exploring how a vampire society might evolve beyond these rigid structures. My vision for Faerûn’s vampires expands on the established lore by introducing more fluid and dynamic power relationships, where alliances and rivalries aren’t solely dictated by fear and domination but also by more nuanced and personal motivations.

Astarion’s Ascension: Disrupting the Status Quo

A key element of my world-building revolves around Astarion, an Ascendant Vampire Lord whose rise disrupts the traditional vampire hierarchy. In most D&D lore, ascension amongst vampires involves brutal rituals, rigid inheritance, or sheer might. Astarion’s ascent, marked by his unprecedented ability to walk in daylight, symbolizes a break from the old ways—where power was both coveted and feared, but also constrained by the inherent weaknesses of vampirism. This departure creates a ripple effect in Faerûn’s vampiric society, challenging other lords who now see Astarion as both a rival and a key to potential power.

In this reimagined society, Astarion doesn’t just seize control of Baldur’s Gate through sheer force; he blends subterfuge, alliances with the nobility, and a dual life as a socialite to maintain his grip on power. His control extends beyond the shadows, infiltrating the upper echelons of society and creating a network that mirrors the interconnected nature of Faerûn’s complex political landscape. This approach not only makes Astarion a formidable power but also showcases how vampires can adapt and thrive in a world that is evolving around them.

Subverting Tropes: Reimagining Female Vampires, Consorts, and True Vampirism

A critical aspect of my world-building involves redefining the roles of female vampires, consorts, and exploring the nature of true vampirism. In traditional lore, female vampires are often relegated to roles such as brides or consorts, which typically place them in subservient positions to male vampire lords. This portrayal extends to characters like Strahd’s brides in Curse of Strahd, who are often depicted as extensions of his will, lacking autonomy and serving primarily to enhance his narrative of control and tragic desire.

Breaking the Mold for Female Vampires: Upon researching D&D’s established vampire lore, it became clear that prominent female vampire lords are extremely rare. Besides the occasional mention, such as a vampire in an older Moonshae Isles adventure, there are few, if any, central female figures in the lore who wield power on par with the most iconic male vampire lords. This absence presents an opportunity to reimagine what a female vampire lord could be, challenging the entrenched patriarchal structures that dominate vampiric society.

In my narrative, true vampire brides are not merely subordinates but can wield powers comparable to those of vampire lords, including the ability to create their own spawn and establish independent power bases. This approach empowers female vampires, granting them the same autonomy and agency traditionally reserved for their male counterparts. It also reflects a broader ethos within my world-building: that power should not be confined by gender, and that vampire society can be more fluid and egalitarian.

Inclusivity of Gay, Non-Binary, and Male Consorts: Expanding beyond traditional gender roles, my world includes a broader spectrum of identities among vampire consorts and lords. In my vision, consorts can be of any gender, and power dynamics are not strictly tied to traditional male-female pairings. This inclusive approach allows for a richer and more diverse exploration of relationships within vampire society, reflecting the complexities and variations of identity that exist in the real world. By opening up these roles, the narrative breaks free from the constraints of the established lore, creating a more inclusive and modern interpretation of what vampire relationships can be.

Amplification of Core Traits: A unique element of my interpretation of vampirism is the amplification of one’s primary nature upon becoming a true vampire. In Astarion’s case, his ambition, dominance, obsessive love and desire for freedom are heightened, leading to his distinctive approach to rulership and power. This concept allows each vampire’s transformation to reflect their intrinsic qualities, creating a diverse and multifaceted society where no two vampires are exactly alike. This aspect not only deepens character development but also reinforces the idea that vampirism is a deeply personal change, amplifying one’s core essence to an extreme.

Astarion’s Unique Nature as a Spawn and Beyond: Astarion's time as a spawn was also distinct; unlike many spawn who become mindless extensions of their masters, Astarion retained significant aspects of his personality and humanity. This set him apart even before his ascension, suggesting that his nature as a vampire was always somewhat exceptional. This unique trait raises interesting possibilities for those he turns, potentially leading to further exploration of how his approach to creating new vampires differs from the norm. The implications of his influence extend beyond power; they reach into the very nature of identity and self-determination within the vampiric condition.

Tension and Upheaval: A Society in Flux:

The introduction of vampires who break the mold—whether through unprecedented powers like day walking or by rejecting the traditional roles assigned to them—creates tension not only among the undead but also with mortal societies. Astarion’s ability to blend into daylight and manipulate societal norms creates fear and uncertainty among the established vampire lords, who see their own vulnerabilities laid bare. They approach Astarion not just with suspicion but with a desperate curiosity, attempting to unravel the secret of his ascension while grappling with the implications of his power.

This upheaval isn’t just limited to the undead; mortal society reacts too. The Council of Four, for instance, are wary of Astarion’s growing influence and the potential shift in the balance of power. As Astarion and his allies push for more autonomy and control, mortal institutions respond with resistance, highlighting the fragile nature of the alliances that keep the peace between the living and the undead.

Building a New Vampire Ethos: Beyond Fear and Control

Ultimately, the world-building in my trilogy aims to craft a vampiric society that transcends the usual narratives of fear and brute control. Vampires in Faerûn, under Astarion’s emerging influence, are not just static beings locked in eternal power struggles—they are dynamic, capable of change, and reflective of the complexities of identity, ambition, and legacy. By embracing a broader and more inclusive vision of what it means to be a vampire lord, the story expands the traditional D&D lore, offering a glimpse into a society where power is not just held but shared, and where the old rules are rewritten to accommodate a new order.

In this evolving landscape, the undead of Faerûn are more than just predators—they are rulers, guardians, and perhaps most compellingly, beings striving for a legacy that outlasts even the immortality they’ve been cursed or blessed with. It’s a world where the lines between monster and monarch blur, and where the true challenge lies not just in seizing power but in redefining what that power means.

[satoshi-mochida]

Baldur’s Gate III ‘Patch 8’ launches in 2025, adds cross-play, photo mode, and 12 new subclasses - Gematsu

Larian Studios will release Baldur’s Gate III‘s “Path 8” in 2025, which adds cross-play, a photo mode, and 12 new subclasses to the game, the developer announced. A stress test for the patch will be held in early January.

Get the details below.

■ Cross-Play

Whether you’re joining PlayStation 5 players from your PC, or jumping into a game with Mac users from your Xbox, Baldur’s Gate III multiplayer will soon feature full cross-platform progression, including cross-play—just as the gaming gods intended. Once the update is live you’ll be able to invite your friends to join your cross-play lobby directly, regardless of platform and find available multiplayer lobbies with friends on other systems using the Larian Network.

■ Subclasses

Patch 8 will introduce a new way to play your favorite class, adding one new subclass for each of the existing Bard, Barbarian, Cleric, Druid, Paladin, Fighter, Monk, Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, Warlock and Wizard classes in the game. Expect new abilities, animations, video effects, summons and cantrips, and unique voiced dialogue lines for the Oathbreaker Knight with written reactivity for Oathbreakers, along with a touch of homebrewing on certain actions to enhance your role-playing experience.

Bard: College of Glamour – As a College of Glamour Bard, you’ll find you have the power to heal friends and command enemies in equal measure. Cast Mantle of Inspiration to bestow your allies with 5 temporary hit points. And should an enemy attack while it is cast, they’ll find themselves Charmed. Play your hand correctly and you’ll be able to use this to your advantage with Mantle of Majesty. Target Charmed enemies and you can command them to flee, move closer, freeze, drop to the ground, or drop their weapon.

Barbarian: Path of Giants – Opt for the Path of Giants, and your newfound giant strength will make it easier for you to yeet friend and foe alike. Forget chugging potions to pump those muscles, these Barbarians benefit from the Giant’s Rage passive that grants both strength and size – allowing you to deal additional damage with Throw attacks. Pockets weighing you down? Not for you and your increased carry capacity!

Cleric: Death Domain – As a cleric of death, you’ll find a few dark new tricks up your sleeves—from spells that specialize in necrotic damage to three new necromancy cantrips. This includes Toll The Dead, a cantrip that causes 1 to 8 damage when your cleric rings the bell of impending doom—a number that scales if your target has already been damaged. We’ve also added the homebrewed ability to explode nearby corpses, damaging enemies.

Druid: Circle of Stars – These Druids look to the stars for answers, accessing powers beyond those offered through the classic wildshapes. Taking on one of three Starry Forms for their power—the constellations of the Archer, Chalice, and Dragon. Each one favors a different play style and strategy—the Archer dealing radiant damage with astral arrows, the life-giving Chalice restoring hitpoints to you and others nearby, and the wise Dragon, allowing you to deal damage with an added bonus to constitution rolls. The Starry Forms offer not just a celestial aesthetic, but practical, powerful options to enhance your role as a healer, fighter, or strategist.

Paladin: Oath of the Crown – You’ve been sworn to uphold the principles of law. Stay true to your oath and you’ll be rewarded with the power to aid your allies and disrupt your foes. Guide your companions in battle with Righteous Clarity, taunt enemies with strategic interrupts, and keep your party standing strong with Divine Allegiance, absorbing their damage while restoring their health.

Fighter: Arcane Archer – Mastering the dual arts of magic and marksmanship, the Arcane Archer subclass offers unique skills on top of new shooting animations. Banish foes to the Feywild, removing them from the battlefield for a turn, or unleash Psychic damage that forces enemies to make a Wisdom saving throw or be blinded until the start of their next turn.

Monk: Drunken Master – Putting the brew in homebrew, as the Drunken Master, you have the ability to consume alcohol straight from your inventory, as well as drink from bottles you see around the Sword Coast, in order to recover Ki. By sharing the bottle with your enemies using Intoxicating Strike, you’ll generate a buff towards your Armor Class and your Chance to hit Drunk targets. Drunk enemies are also susceptible to the Drunken Masters’ other abilities, like Sobering Realisation—which sobers up drunk targets, dealing physical and Psychic damage.

Ranger: Swarmkeeper – The Swarmkeeper subclass provides Rangers with three kinds of deadly swarms to assist them in combat. The Cloud of Jellyfish deals extra lightning damage—potentially shocking your enemy. The Flurry of Moths deals Psychic damage, giving you the potential to Blind your enemy. The Legion of Bees deals piercing damage and forces the enemy to make a strength-saving throw or be knocked back 15 feet. Each swarm also has the ability to provide you with teleportation capabilities!

Rogue: Swashbuckler – This Rogue subclass introduces a range of new actions fit for the piratical life. Play dirty by tossing sand at enemies to Blind them. Flick your weapon at a target to Disarm them. Or use your new Fancy Footwork passive while meleeing your enemy to ensure they can’t make opportunity attacks against you for the rest of your turn.

Sorcerer: Shadow Magic – As a Shadow Magic Sorcerer, you deal in a form of magic that makes you deadliest in darkness. This subclass gives its sorcerer Superior Darkvision, as well as the ability to Shadow Walk between places of dim light or darkness. It also lets you call forth the perfectly homebrewed Hound of Ill Omen to harass your foes, and use Strength of the Grave to prevent you from being downed—ideal for those attempting Honor Mode runs.

Warlock: Hexblade – Hexblade Warlocks make a pact with an entity from the Shadowfell that manifests in the form of magical weapons. Curse your enemies and force their souls to do your bidding. Slay any enemy that isn’t generally an element of nature, construct, giant blob, or already dead, and you’ll be able to raise their spirit from their corpse for ten turns. This new summon can deal necrotic damage and will rip away a chunk of your enemy’s soul to provide your Hexblade Warlock with healing.

Wizard: Bladesinging – The Bladesinging subclass merges swordplay with wizardry. Expect new spellcasting animations when casting spells with your weapon, a new Bladesong ability to grant you supernatural speed, agility, and focus, plus gives you a bonus to any Constitution saving throw you make.

■ Photo Mode

Finally, you can stop using pictures of fish you’ve caught on your dating profile and start snapping photos with your Hound of Ill Omen. Photo Mode is coming to Baldur’s Gate III in Patch 8! Baldur’s Gate III‘s Photo Mode is a little like a photo booth that lets you set up pretty much any shot you’d like. This new feature introduces a whole slew of options to let you customize and edit your in-game photography, with various levels of freedom depending on whether you’re using it while adventuring, or during combat, dialogue, and cinematic scenes.

Camera Settings

Toggleable from the HUD, located near the minimap, or by using the hotkey binding (F9 on PC, and by pressing both analog sticks at the same time on console), you’ll get to choose which character you want to take centre stage, determine their best side, and adjust the camera position to suit. As long as they’re in your party while you’re adventuring, you’ll be able to line up your scene perfectly—including summons and those in a Wild Shape! For all budding virtual photographers, you can also turn on the camera reticle and composition grid to make sure you’re lining up the perfect shot.

Lens Settings

Determined the angle and sorted the positioning? You’ll be able to jump over to the Lens Settings where you can play around with the Field of View, Exposure, Depth of Field, and Focus.

Scene Settings

NPC ruining your shot? Toggle off either Playing, Party, NPC, or Enemy characters. Now you’re ready for your close-up! Or, if you’re feeling creative, set the scene for a full-on Faerûn musical—choose a set facial expression, plus a range of over 40 static and animated poses, each with multiple variations to help give you the perfect layout. Internal playtesting for Patch 8 is already well underway, and we wanted to highlight just a couple of the great shots our playtesters have been grabbing using photo mode, and how they’ve chosen to edit them!

Post Processing Effects

While you won’t be able to adjust your party or play around with lens and camera settings during cinematic scenes and dialogues, you’ll be able to color-grade your shot and experiment with contrast, saturation, highlights, brightness and vignette.

Frames

Add flair to your scene with a range of different frames and letterboxing to nail those cinematic shots.

Stickers

Choose from over 300 stickers and add up to 30 to your scene, including emojis, icons, blood splatters, textures, objects and items, and of course, cat ears. In your hands soon, you’ll be able to take role-play to the next level with unique combinations of poses, stickers, and frames. We can’t wait to see what absolute nightmare fuel you come up with.

Baldur’s Gate III is available now for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, and PC via Steam and GOG.

[inventors-fair]

Standout Outsiders: Support Network Winners

Our winners this week are @curiooftheheart, @misterstingyjack, and @stareyedesper!

~

@curiooftheheart — Capricious Commissioner

Yeesh, and you though your patron was demanding! As much as I wouldn't relish the idea of having a dragon for a boss, this one certainly motivates you to do some work. As long as the Bards keep flowing, so does the Treasure, and then if you don't funnel it somewhere else you can invest it all into creating a masterpiece! That's a fantastic use of Sculpture, and I love the detail that the effigies have the same body as their model. Five treasures is a big ask, but the immediate impact of sniping off a troublesome creatures does a lot to make the price feel worth it. I've got to wonder, though: is five treasures just the commission fee, or are they melting down the metal and casting it into a sculpture? Well, it's great either way.

@misterstingyjack — Lonn, Endling Caretaker

Oh, well isn't this interesting? Right out of the gate, I love the callback to Ikoria's colored types in the same vein as Kaheera. It's just, usually the intention behind calling out multiple creature types is to allow the card to go in a deck based on either, and occasionally to combine several much smaller search pools. This one very much veers in an alternate direction by outright requiring you to have all of the above to get full value out of it. Requiring entirely different types is a smart way to go about it, though, as while Ikoria had plenty of overlap there by design, the types otherwise don't have all that much to do with each other. It'd be an odd menagerie you'd have to be running, but isn't that kind of the point? A character who dedicates their life to sheltering those with nowhere else to go shouldn't result in a strictly calculated, coherent deck, should it? As an aside, it's kind of tragically funny that being the lone human does actually prevent Kaheera from being a companion, but oh well.

@stareyedesper — Cenn's Shepherd

This is, no joke, the most charming card I've seen in weeks. Maybe I've just got the Lorwyn bug after re-experiencing it a bit ago, but this card just puts a smile on my face. It feels very at-home in Lorwyn the set, too, as it had a semi-cycle of a creature from a "big" type supporting creatures from a "small" type. Heck, we even had this exact combination in Cloudgoat Ranger. But this—especially with the inclusion of the excellent flavor text—has such an emotional core that it really stands head and shoulders above the rest. Plus, it slots extremely cleanly into Kithkins' go-wide-or-go-home playstyle. He helps the little ones, and once there are enough of them, they can start helping him in turn. Adorable!

~

Apologies for the lateness, but runners up won't be any more late! —@spooky-bard

[dailycharacteroption]

Planar Tour Guide: Plane of Air part 4

(art by BisBiswas on DeviantArt)

Adventures

Now that we’ve talked about the plane’s terrain and denizens, let’s talk a bit about actually going there and having adventures.

As always, it’s important to consider what sort of preparations to make when traveling to a new plane, but luckily, the Plane of Air is more forgiving than most. The air is breathable, and there’s no energies that would instantly kill you, so planar adaptation is not needed, though endure elements might come in handy since there are still temperature extremes here and there. Flying spells are not necessary, but the ability to fly under one’s own power can make one much more maneuverable than relying on the subjective gravity. Also, consider prepping spells that ward against electricity or cold, since those are common energy types.

Of course, the most basic adventure hook is getting stuck on the plane by mistake, and while the Endless Sky is probably one of the best planes to accidentally end up on, it does have it’s own hazards, and the party may still struggle to try and return home. While the stakes of their return may vary, this can still be a fun adventure where the heroes struggle with and delight in the unique properties of the plane on their way to a gate or benevolent spellcaster.

Jaathoom genies are among the more benevolent of genie-kind, even if they are inscrutable at times. However, even they have their politics, and the party might journey to the plane to secure some wish-granted aid, or be called in as specialists by a genie offering reward for the party’s unique skills. Such adventures are more likely to take place in one of the settled regions of the plane, sporting exotic architecture and culture.

All planes have their share of unique materials and forms of life which may be valuable to someone. A potion in need of a floating plant’s juices, a ritual requiring cloud dragon scales (hopefully procured respectfully and bloodlessly) or even the mythical silver lining of a cloud. All are possible.

What’s more, the plane of air has plenty of trading hubs where one may find other exotic goods from the plane or beyond.

The Endless Expanse has it’s share of mysteries as well. What is inside the metallic spheres that remain sealed? Are the fire orbs a natural part of the plane or part of some plot? These are just two possible things for a budding extraplanar archaeologist and scientist to explore.

And of course, your adventures may involve encountering one of the elemental lords. Perhaps the party is recruited by Ranginori to help consolidate his power or build a network of allies? Maybe the party dares to take the fight to Hshurha, or perhaps she conscripts them as useful pawns though she is loathe to trust solid beings? Either way, high-level characters should still watch themselves when it comes to dealing with demigods.

And that does it for today. Tomorrow we’ll be wrapping up with the conclusion, so look forward to that!

[tasoula14]

a couple of requests from my other social networks. sometimes I draw portraits for myself and followers (now only, for example, the main characters of dragon age, or Tavs from Baldur's gate 3). I can also draw something for you for free here in my free time for example (if there is any of course, he-he, just to get my hand in)

[coochiequeens]

So glad that reddit had her back and helped her see the signs of a hobosexual. This is also a good example of how the myths that have grown up around certain rich men downplay if not erase their privileged beginnings. If your not born into money or connections success will likely entail lots of hard work, not spending time and money on Dungeons and Dragons.

Bill Gates was born rich and connected.

Bill Gates' father, William Henry Gates II, was a wealthy lawyer. He was the founder of the law firm Shidler McBroom & Gates (which later merged to become the firm K&L Gates).

Bill Gates' mother, Mary Ann Maxwell Gates, was a member of the Board of Directors for United Way in the 1980s. United Way is an international network of over 1,800 local nonprofit fundraising affiliates.

Bill Gates attended Lakeside School, a private school in Seattle. In an interview, he told his school friends that many students drove Porsches to school. Given that he attended this school, do you think Bill Gates was the son of a janitor?

Elon Musks parents may not have been wealthy when he was born but they were well connected.

The Musk family includes Maye Musk, a model and author; Errol Musk, a mine-owner, businessman and politician; ....... Maye's father Joshua N. Haldeman was a notable chiropractor, aviator, and politician who was a well known proponent of technocracy. 

And Donald Trump? He started by working for his dad who worked for the business his parents started

Frederick Christ Trump Sr. (October 11, 1905 – June 25, 1999) was an American real-estate developer and businessman. He was the father of the 45th and 47th U.S. president, Donald Trump.

Born in the Bronx in New York City to German immigrant parents, Trump began working in home construction and sales in the 1920s before heading the real-estate business started by his parents (later known as the Trump Organization).[a] His company rose to success, building and managing single-family houses in Queens, apartments for war workers on the East Coast during World War II, and more than 27,000 apartments in New York overall. Trump was investigated for profiteering by a U.S. Senate committee in 1954 and again by New York State in 1966. Donald Trump became the president of his father's real-estate business in 1971. Two years later, they were sued by the U.S. Justice Department's Civil Rights Division for racial discrimination against black people.

Contradicting Donald Trump's claim that he built a multibillion-dollar company using "a small loan of a million dollars" from his father, in 2018 The New York Times reported that Fred and his wife, Mary Trump, provided over $1 billion (in 2018 currency) to their children overall, avoiding over $500 million in gift taxes. In 1992, Fred and Donald set up a subsidiary which was used to funnel Fred's finances to his surviving children; shortly before his death, Fred transferred the ownership of most of his apartment buildings to his children, who several years later sold them for over 16 times their previously declared worth.

[nqmonarch]

Since I've only read the webcomic I may be wrong in some parts but man pre-regression Yoojin and Yoohyun's relationship is so depressing.

I understand why Yoohyun distanced himself but at the same time I want him to suffer because holy shit he didn't explain anything. Yoojin is extremely depressed and has substance abuse problems which there's no way in hell Yoohyun doesn't know about but instead he just keeps creating distance and treats him coldly. I get you don't want your older brother to become a target of mister evil venom dragon dude and die but it's a miracle Yoojin kept himself alive???

Like I'd have to imagine he's had suicidal thoughts as when he attempts to sacrifice himself for Yoohyun, he's like 'Fine I'll die, I'll stop bothering you and everyone else.' He was barely holding onto hope because of the few people who supported him who all ended up dying and only he lived because of Final Thanks.

The amount of trauma Yoojin's been through is insane. That being said I want Yoohyun to suffer (he's already suffered a lot but I want pre-regression him to suffer more). At the end of the day this is evil venom dragon man's fault But man am I pissed at Yoohyun.

That being said it seems like the only way (where the webcomic picks up with them pre-regression) for Yoohyun to suffer is if Yoojin dies. And honestly I don't want Yoojin to die. So I've been thinking about a satisfying way for Yoojin to "get revenge" and I think I've come up with something???

So Yoohyun's doing all of this to protect Yoojin because Yoohyun's a target and if he's close to Yoojin then Yoojin will be a target too. So what if Yoojin just ends up managing to become a bigger target on his own?

As mentioned the government's awakening facility was catered toward individual's with combat abilities so it'd definitely fail to awaken Yoojin at his maximum potential. And as we saw from Yoojin's ability to see other's classes it seemed like over 50% of the population had POTENTIAL for D rank or above.

So if there was another character that could see the potential ranks of everyone and imagine there surprise when they manage to come across Yoojin and find out his potential is an S Rank (which I don't know if that's canon but for the sake of this scenario let's say his potential is an S rank, and they can also see the potential of his skill Caregiver is S (apparently it became L after Yoohyun died for him). Because I think skills can level up??? I don't understand the magic system that well so if that's not true just be delusional with me).

Now obviously they'd want to get Yoojin on their side, and they come up out of nowhere offering training to Yoojin. By the time this news reaches Yoohyun's ears through his weird stalker network Yoojin's already gone.

Of course Yoojin wants to become a useful older brother, and sure maybe he's fallen into the trap of getting scammed before but this person has proof of being in the Seseong Guild (I don't know maybe they have IDs?). And why is the guild for this AU the Seseong Guild? Because that's what would piss Yoohyun off the most.

So now fast forward a few years Yoohyun has been freaking the fuck out and is basically forced to assume his brother is dead. For the sake of privacy and keep their new asset safe the Seseong guild gave Yoojin a new identity. Despite that evil venom dragon dude figured out it was Yoojin and decided 'Hey if I can kill him I can use his body to really make Yoohyun accept that he's dead and make him join my side! :D'

Anyway the dragon fails like in canon. This time instead of Yoohyun breaking into the portal and then sacrificing himself the the guild leader of Seseong guild (my boy Sung Hyunjae) is near the gate (coincidence I think not) and he's like damn something happened, seems interesting, I'll join in. But by the time he enters the dragon's already dead and the only one standing is Yoojin.

Now Yoojin had interested Hyunjae before, the way he'd acted so at ease with his S rank brother in the past despite being an F rank. Not only that but even when Hyunjae let out his imposing S Rank aura, Yoojin, when he was still a lower rank, would cower but he didn't mince his words. It was amusing.

Yoojin had originally been standing in the back as more of a supportive figure but holy shit did the party get wiped by the dragon. Lets say all of the party members were under Yoojin's custody and that one of the party members (for the sake of my delusions) was an S Rank (for the sake of my delusions) and died for Yoojin. Bam Yoojin is super fucking strong solos the dragon, easy, he now gained the L ranked skills Perfect CareGiver and Dragon Slayer.

From unlocking Dragon Slayer he gets the wish stone, and this time is allowed to wish everyone else who died alive and the Irreverent Children are like 'y'know you've made it pretty far already fuck it we'll just bring them back to life no need to turn back time.' Hyunjae watches the ending of this go down and he's like ._., o_o, and then bastard :). You know he'd just be thinking in his head about how useful this random support ite-- person is.

Okay so we've got Yoojin basically up to where he is post-regression and he keeps gaining skills from dungeons, gains the double attack skill, doesn't say shit obviously because he's Yoojin. Except this time he has a lot more publicity more specifically publicity by Hyunjae's side. Yoohyun manages to see this, recognizes Yoojin, and he's first relieved his beloved brother is alive, and then fuming. Why is that bastard there? Poor Yoojin will only be in danger with him but he has to remind himself Yoojin is S Class now (through the power of I say so, I don't actually know if they can like reawaken to a higher class but I assume so?).

Anyway eventually they Yoohyun breaks in to the Seseong Guild just to talk to Yoojin they make up yay!!! All of the post-regression characters end up meeting Yoojin and become happier too. Everyone ends up becoming happy and Yoojin saves the world :)! Go mom powers!

I haven't read the novel, and thus I'm not at a point where I can make this scenario with as few plot holes as possible. Please excuse me for any glaring mistakes, I just need to live out this dream.

Also wouldn't it be funny if Yoojin used his keywords on evil venom dragon dude that follows the Pious and it worked??? And he now had that dude on his side, when I was reading that scene I was like "...is he gonna say 'I love you' to beat it?" Obviously in post-regression it's huge that venom dragon guy dies because he's the reason Yoohyun is dead but... this is pre regression :).

Anyway I love the post-regression characters and how much happier they seem compared to their pre-regression versions. I want post-regression dead Yoohyun to get a happy ending too. I just think he should suffer a bit first.

I felt like I was on drugs writing this I'm going to be honest not quite sure of what I just wrote but it was a hell of a ride.