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shesawriter39049 · 3 years

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|FEVER| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

About- Namjoon just has a kink for letting you do whatever the hell you want with him...Whether that be putting him in a hot pink suit shirtless! Or, telling him he’s a good boy as he fucks you into oblivion!

OR- Namjoon and yourself hooked up 5 months ago when the boys were in London on Tour, and you were the creative director for there British GQ & Harper’s Bazzar Cover! Now, months later he’s prepping to release his second mixtape “RM vs Rap Monster”. Opting to go a complete 360 from his first release Mono in all realms. So, with that being said BigHit thinks he needs someone with a little more... “umph” Take a wild guess as to who they call...

WC:1.2k (Sneak peek)

WARNINGS: Switch OC (Top & Bottom...but there's no real dom/sub tones here) Service top/power bottom Namjoon, praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex(Back shot), come play, dirty talk, light choking, light overstimulation, (This is lowkey a little softer than it sounds) The OC kinda leads this, but Joon isin’t the cliché “sub” he just likes letting her take control.

NOTE- Just my take on the OG cliché Artist X Stylist AU (Though she’s more of a full package, Art Director/Stylist/Photographer ETC) I have tried to add some minor elements to make it a little more realistic. I will say I typically stray from “Idol-verse” just because if we’re being real, the cultural difference alone sometimes stunts my creativity...BUT I just had a little fun with this one...so I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I don’t go into much physical details but in my mind regardless of race, aesthetic wise the OC is a huge contrast to what he’s use to which is part of her appeal. I picture a tatted Barbie of some sorts...

SIDE NOTE: No shade, but shade, I was lowkey inspired to write this bc I have very strong opinions about the creative team at BH....

*** Let me know if you guys want the full thing or not...I kidna flaked on posting because it is such a cliché lol

SONG- FEVER DUA LIPA FT ANGELE

~~~~~~~

“Well, it’s a yes for me” Eyeing him in this Hot pink-fitted Burliti suit, which you paired with a very sheer black Arnar Mar turtle neck. The minute you saw the piece on the runway you’d been dying to get it on someone with melanated skin, and it just so happens, the boys are fresh off the US leg of their stadium tour! So, lucky for you, baby boy’s been in the sun a lot, and Namjoon’s currently a sinful shade of brown and you're totally here for it…

Then to top it off, the mesh material of the turtle neck creates the perfect silhouette around his offensively toned chest, outlining the muscles sinfully. Eternally snorting at the way the fans are gonna thank and curse you out all at the same damn time once they see the looks you’ve pulled for this man!

And yes, you had your crew bring extended shades of foundation and concealer, because his face and neck will match if your name is going to be attached to these damn photos!

Head tilted to the side as you silently observe the way he rakes over his reflection in the mirror, it’s a sixth sense you’ve acquired as a stylist at this point. Half of your job is essentially being a hype man/self love coach, real shit, a lot of these artist aren't always as...confident as one may think!

And just like clockwork Namjoon runs his palm down his thighs, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on his pants for the umpteenth time in the span of oh I don’t know 30 seconds? Which in turn prompts you to say….

“You look good Joonie...” Musing over your second glass of Don, the compliment was genuine, tone warm, soothing even, not a hint flirtation insight because that wasn’t your motive. You weren’t trying to get him flustered you’re just trying to gas him up a little, you wanted to see Namjoon get alittle cocky and feel himself!

Ears perking up like an overgrown puppy, head whipping in your direction “Yeah?” The way this man’s eyes just lit up like the soul skyline. I just-goddamn, an almost bashful smile toys on those plush lips of his, and you can’t help the way your chest flutters with nothing but fondness.

“So fuckin cute” Flutters off your lips, as you hide a smile of your own behind a half empty whine glass. The delivery was so faint it almost go lost in the background music floating through the air. However the slight flush hitting his cheeks let you know Namjoon heard you whether he wanted to admit it or not!

”Mmmhmm, the color looks fuckin insane against your skin, not to mention, the way everything's going to pop once we tone your hair a little! “ Eyes drinking him in from head to toe, though there was nothing suggestive playing within your iris. Very much aware of time and place and right now your genuinely looking respectfully! Seeing if any alterations are needed, making sure you like where everything sits along his frame. Making notes in your phone of places you want to pin and adjust later...snapping a couple shots here and there.

Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the lapels on the blazer “But like-I mean-I- dont’-It doesn’t look like I’m... trying too hard or anything?” Brows furrowed in the center of his face, jaw tight, wincing slightly at his own words, almost as if he was afraid of your response. The vulnerability within his delivery was more than evident, and no matter how common this is with artist, it’s still just as devastating! Regardless of how much he tried to play it off as if he was just making casual conversation, you can see how blatantly uncomfortable he is . Gazing back at you wide eyed, and uncannily exposed, pointing at the outfit in question. Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the the blazer, switching posses subtlety trying to get a better feel for the suit.

You stayed silent for a minute, taking the time to actually process before speaking which is rare, not gonna lie. Gaze piercing as you hop off the bed, wine, and accessories in hand, swaying closer. “It’s fashion”. The baited pause almost implied that’s all you had to say, as if one-word was self-sufficient, and in your mind it was...but you knew better than to just leave it at that.

“Art at its finest Mr. Kim” You smile something a little devious, and he flushes even deeper as you slowly start to invade his space eyes locked with him meaningfully. You can physically see the shift, the closer you get, Namjoon starts fidgeting slightly under your gaze but he doesn't back down.

“It gives you room to play, create...it’s something that let’s us connect to people without saying a damn thing.” Suddenly the hand that wasn’t holding your alcohol has become a prop, flailing around haphazardly as you spoke, pointing at the various pieces hanging on clothes racks in your suite! The penthouse has essentially been transformed into your own personal walk in closet for the next 5 or so days! “It’s a statement. A opportunity to tap into a side of yourself that maybe you can’t always verbally articulate to the world around you! More importantly, it’s supposed to be fun, it’s literally something that can be removed within seconds! I mean we all have to wear clothes so why not just enjoy it?” Head cocked to the side as you appraise him, brow quirked, eyes warm, yet there's a clear challenge playing within your gaze.

Namjoon’s watching you intently, almost as if he’s taking mental notes as you speak...the heaviness within those dangerously honed eyes of his could almost be unsettling to some, but you quite like it. Made you feel as though he actually gives a flying fuck about what you’re saying.

“In my opinion the only time it looks like someone’s “Trying too hard” Making little air bunnies with your spare hand “Is if they look uncomfortable in what they’re wearing, confidence is key, and I know you know that better than anyone RM!” You muse batting your lashes in Namjoon’s direction, and he dimples back at you, eyes sinking into tiny crescents, face rivaling the color of his suit, trying to hide said smile behind his own glass of champagne.

“I could put you in a damn clown suit...” Words trailing off your tongue lackadaisically as you grow distracted searching the bar for a specific chain from John Hardy. “Which” Focus snapping back in his direction making the later splutter a little “Would be fire as fuck if I did by the way, but-” Namjoon ended up cackling midsentence, almost choking on his drink in the process, fist pounding against his sternum.

Yeah..killing the leader of Bangtan wasn’t really high on your list tonight....

“Ayee, none of that shit...” Smacking him in the back a little more so just to be an ass because he wasn’t even choking anymore “Don’t die on me until we at least get this damn photoshoot done, I had to cancel my trip to Jamaica for this shit!”

Now he’s damn near choking and his laugh was contagious, it’s just.. loud, carefree so yes, your cackling, and there's nothing cute about it. But you honestly don’t care, you let yourself get lost in it! Finally able to feel the atmosphere in the room start to shift to something a little less scripted and a little more organic...

Throwing his hands in the air as If he’s waving a nonexistent white flag “I’m sorry, noona” There’s a pout playing in his lips, not exactly aegyo per say, but it’s fuckin adorable “Blame PD-nim, it’s his fault we had to do this so last minute” Wheezes from his throat, in the form of a slight whine, almost rivaling Jimin if I’m honest.

You already know he was laughing more so due to your delivery, specifically, your casual use of profanity over anything else. This is actually something you use to be self-conscious about, especially at your first shoot with the boys, at the shoot for GQ . Well aware it wasn’t as common in Asia for people especially women to use “fuck” like a comma. So you were hoping they wouldn’t be offended, or uncomfortable by your dialect, and, thankfully they didn’t seem to mind. Much like Joonie over here, they found it entertaining over anything.

“Yeah, a huh, sureee...” Eyes rolling to the back of your head playfully as you start lightly altering the suit in question with clips and pens. “Stay still babe” The pet name slipped off your tongue effortlessly, honestly, that's what you call most people in your life. However you were far too focused to notice how wide eyed and flustered the man before you became upon hearing it directed at him so casually.

A faint little “Sorry” muses off his lips as he gnaws on his inner cheek, trying to stay still as you ghetto-rig hems into place until you can get this under your sewing needle.

“ No, but real shit…” You sigh, taking on a slightly more serious tone “If you step in front of that camera like you own the bitch, regardless of what your wearing..., then they can’t tell you shit! If your comfortable there’s no such thing as trying too hard” You shrug nonchalantly like that was the simplest concept known to man, downing the rest of your drink “Alright, that’s all, thanks for coming to my Ted talk” Waving him off as if you’re about to leave the room and he pouted playfully, jokingly begging you not to leave him yet...it felt good to be able to banter like this. The shift continuous shift within the atmosphere was more than welcomed…

Hesitantly you watch his eyes find their way back to the full length mirror, which promptly smacks you back to reality!

Unfortunately you didn't fly all the way to Seoul just to drink, and shoot shit with Namjoon for hours on end, your actually here to work…

Sooo...

“Alright” Placing your arms on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you peer over his shoulder. Meeting his gaze through the glass, chin resting gently against the blade. “Back to the reason you came Mr. “I’m sooo anxiously” Shooting him a teasing little smirk in the process “The suit, yay or nay”

So, here’s the thing technically the official fitting is tomorrow, and as far as his team knows he’s in the studio with Yoongi and Hoseok finishing up a song!

Which of course raises the question as to why he’s here..alone..mind you..no staff or security in site.

Just Kim Namjoon and yourself.....

~~~~

Heyyyy, Lemme know if you guys want this or not, it will leave kinda open ended because it was supposed to kinda be a 3 part mini series initially. Part 1 ends the morning of the shoot, the full thing is set to be around 6/7k! Spoiler, the company is going to want to keep her around for more than just Namjoon’s solo project....

Also, YES...I did see that they actually put Tae in that Burliti suit (I wrote this long before that shoot was released)...I actually hated the way it was styled it though...I never thought I’d say this but MGK’s team did a better job than BH....

#Namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #bts #bts smut #bts au #kpop #kpop smut #kim namjoon x you

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fiore-rosewood9 · 4 years

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England personal headcanons

Warning: some of this may upset you, so if you are a small child/teen or really sensitive to certain topics, this is not for you.

England copes with loneliness and the big amounts of work by drinking alcohol until he passes out.

He is prideful so he wouldn’t admit he feels lonely and left out just like Prussia.

Sometimes he could pout but if he is feeling angry due to the lack of sleeping he would most likely give a sassy remark to anyone talking to him.

He is someone who reads books and drinks a cup of tea either in his bed or work room, next to a candle light to for relaxing

Arthur is the type of person that watches the earlier versions of doctor who religously and complain to France over how much the show has changed.

He is an old dark bitter man, that just needs someone to listen to him and respect him after everything he has experienced. That is why he respects Russia, he thinks they have a lot in common as big powers in the past and now being mocked during and out of meetings for no longer being powerful.

He still smokes even though it ruins his gentleman image, smoking is the other bad coping way he uses. The others are leaving without warning, drinking and at rare moments starving.

He has lost his appetite due to many reasons, he doesn’t tell why but the rumour about him losing his receptors due to drinking hot tea every day

He gets nostalgic every time he looks through old clothes and objects, and tends to cry, that is why he holds his attic locked, so no one would come in and he wouldn’t get emotional over nothing.

He is over America and forth of July but sometimes throws up in the toilet. Even though America makes big parties, he feels awkward and rarely comes because he feels out of place. The same issue is not happening with his other colonies.

Francis despite the many years of rivalry still stays his best love and friend. He feels like he can take off his mask and be honest with the other nation

Arthur would wear leather pants or jeans just to feel a boost of confidence when he needs it.

He still has doubts and insecurities, like any other nation but he can hide them well. He still would get hurt if another nation points out something personal to him.

He still regrets what he did to Jeanne of Arc and would never admit that one of the reasons he did it was jealousy. France would never forgive him if he does.

His food is not that bad, France is just exaggereting. Some of his meals are okay, and some are good. His problem is that he is forgetful and that leaves the food burnt.

His relationship with Scotland is not as bad as it used to be. They have normal conversations over whiskey at some moments. The same cannot be said about his other brothers.

England can’t hold his liqour well, but will never admit it and would fight until the end, even if it means getting drunk.

He misses Hong Kong from time to time but would never say it.

He has good relationship with Japan still and is his guest over tea. Japan still visits his house as well. When England visits Japan he gets excited over Japan’s mythical animals and ghosts, even though Japan politely smiles and nods but when he turns around he mumbles to him self. “But I live alone.’’

England still practices magic in his basement and Norway and Romania aren’t the only ones who he talks about it to, Belarus also practices magic.

He has hard time making and keeping friends now, even though if you have met him you would probably think he is just a charming, kind man passing by.

He has cosplayed as a pirate at Paris’s disneyland. Francis just happened to see photos of him and keeps them for blackmail in case he needs to.

Francis would call him king Arthur as a joke just to tease him sometimes.

When he was a pirate and was all alone in his room he would write poems and letters to him self mostly. Francis has seen some of them and still keeps them without Arthur’s knowedge. The other people who know bout his secret are Spain and Prussia.

He has asked Spain for forgiveness many years after what he has done and has done to so to each one of his colonies, except America.

He and Prussia sometimes go to a pub and talk to each other.

Despite what everyone thinks, he has good relationship with Italy. In the begining he intimidated him but now he sees no reason to acts kind towards him.

Germany isn’t the only one who keeps the meetings under control, the other one is England, Hungary and China.

He still doesn’t have the best relationship with China and avoids him.

Even though it is rare since he is busy talkin to the others, has lots of work or is outside, he makes small talks with India, most consisting of how each other is.

Because he can starve to feel like he is still in control, he gets pissed off even more and would most likely lash out much more agressivly if he hasn’t eaten in the last 6 hours rather if he has eaten.

Nyo England is insecure about her chest size because it is small and she thinks she isn’t attractive enough because of it, especially since she compares her self to other girls, like Belgium and Hungary and Nyo France.

Nyos and Normal nations live in the same unvierse so do the 2ps, but they rarely see each other. Each represents something different, one represents the land for example, the other the people etc.

Nyo England would most listen to rock from 70′s and 80′s as something to wake her up and has some of Queen’s songs downloaded on her phone. “Somebody to love” is her alarm.

England refuses to usually wear glasses even though with his age he needs them, so he has contacts like Prussia, even though Prussia’s eye sight is much more damaged from his childhood than Arthur’s. Nyo England doesn’t have this problem.

Nyo Canada is much more compared to Nyo England rather than Amelia, because Amelia has short hair.

Some of France’s clothes still stay in England wardrobe since the last time he visited him.

He is not on good terms with his 2p and despises everything he represents or does even though they are the same nation.

He is a cat person, but when he was a child with just a cloak and bow in hand he used to have a wild dog as protection until it was shot by villagers. When he was at the peak of his power he took a tiger because he thought it was exotic and represented power but once he saw that he couldn’t control or tame the animal he sent it to a special place where people with more experiences could take care of it. Now he is satisfied with the smaller versions of the tigers walking around his old house. Also known as cats.

He talks to Matthew over the phone or on camera much more than he visits him nowdays.

He can be annoyed with nyo France, but she is a lady, a woman and he can’t just punch her like he does with Francis. That doesn’t mean he can’t curse.

He loves children and would like to have one but he knows he can’t marry someone, especially human. That is why he has worked as elementary teacher once in his life, to live the dream.

Nyo England has three moods- black official clothes and suits, floral dresses, long dresses, mostly pastel colours and punk revealing clothes with piercing and there is no in between.

Nyo England has a tattoo on top of her chest and on her ankle, while England has on his waist and shoulder.

His cats are named after his old bosses.

He still has nightmares from the world wars and flinches no matter if he is sleeping or not.

#hetalia #england #aph #2020 #headcanons #warning

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paladin-of-deneir · 6 years

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Treachery of Waterdeep

Cursed Child

I’ve made an effort to forget my childhood. It’s not something I particularly care to remember. It was a fearful time. I scared people away from me with my abilities. No one wanted to be near that freak who could feel what you felt. Who could make you feel what she felt. They’d keep at a distance, casting judgmental glances my way. And that was the kind response. The unkind response came from those who threw insults and stones at me as I passed, my head dipped that they might not notice me. It never worked.

It wasn’t just my fellow children. The adults around me were just as prone to mocking me as they were. Even those who were meant to protect me didn’t. Instead they join in mocking me. They said I was cursed. That my abilities were evil. Infernal. That I was different just because I could do something. My own parents said these things!

I slowly began to nurse a hatred for them. For everyone who’d ever wronged me. Until one day, when my uncle visited the house. I overheard a conversation between him and my parents, asking him what they should do with me. Toss me onto the streets? Lock me away? Kill me? All of those options crossed my parents’ lips.

I was scared when my uncle asked if he could meet me before he made a decision. Scared he might agree with my parents. Scared he’d just kill me himself. The fear only grew when I saw him in the doorway of my room. He was tall, with a scruffy black beard and hair. But… it was when I saw his silver eyes that my fear eased. I was still scared, mind you, but I didn’t think he was planning on killing me himself. And I was right.

He knelt down next to bed, a warm smile on his lips. “Hi there.” He said softly. I didn’t know what to say in response, I just kept looking at him with fear in my eyes. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. What’s your name?”

“Alicia,” I said weakly, curling up into a ball to avoid his gaze, my long black hair falling in front of my face. He brushed it aside with his hand, and I could see his warm smile again.

“Alicia. A lovely name.” When I didn’t respond, he continued on his own. “Listen, I don’t think you’re cursed.” I looked at him.

“Y-you don’t?”

“No, of course not. People are just afraid of what they don’t understand, so they call it a curse.” There was a moment of silence. “Here,” he continued, putting out his hand, “show me what you can do.”

I reached out and put my hand in his own and concentrated. “You’re sad,” I began. “Sad about losing someone. Someone you loved. Your daughter. I remind you of her, don’t I?”

He nodded. “Yes. You do, in a way.”

“What are you going to tell them to do with me?” I asked him.

“Nothing. In fact… I’d like to take you back to Waterdeep with me. Raise you as my own. Those two down there have given more than enough proof that they aren’t fit to raise a child, and you have too much potential to waste it here. What do you say?” I just nodded slowly. “Good. Get a bag packed. I’ll go talk to them.”

My parents were nearly too eager to get rid of me, though my mother chastised her brother for taking in a cursed child. But my uncle didn’t listen. He just waited for me and then took me to the wagon he had come here in. And then began my new life in Waterdeep, living with my uncle.

Whispered Questions

It was late, and I knew it. But I couldn’t shake these thoughts that danced around in my head. Lord Soran hadn’t been acting right in recent weeks, and it was eating me alive. It wasn’t even obvious. No one else seemed to notice it, but I could tell. Something about him just seemed… different. But I couldn’t tell what. Nor why. I finally decided that maybe, if I just asked him, he might tell me. And that’s how I ended up walking the halls of a nearly silent house in the earliest hours of the morning. I was looking for Soran. And while this was an hour in which I could never imagine working, Soran enjoyed burning the midnight oil. So I knew I could easily find him in his office.

I made it to his office when I noticed the door was already cracked open, lamplight streaming through the gap. I knelt down next to the door as I listened in on the whispered conversation within. I couldn’t make out much, but I could tell that, whatever the conversation was about, Soran was calm. As I peeked in through the crack in the door, I could see Soran, standing with his back to me, orange hair like fire in the lamplight. But I could also see a woman with long, honey-blonde hair standing across from him, wearing a necklace of what looked like… orange pearls, almost. I could see her caramel-colored eyes from where I was, and… something was off. They were glossed over, like she was only half aware of her surroundings. Her emotions felt strange, too. They were weaker than I was used to, almost like they were being suppressed. As I was trying to figure out why, the whispering stopped, and I looked up to find her eyes locked with mine.

As I stared back at her, she raised her arm and pointed at me. My instincts took over and I ducked from the doorway and pressed myself against the wall next to the door. I heard more whispering, and I thought I could make out the word “spy.” Her voice sounded wrong, too, but I couldn’t place the problem in my state of mild panic. Footsteps and the tapping of a cane echoed across the floor behind me, and I held my breath as the door swung open, nearly slamming into me. In the silent halls, I could hear his steady breathing as he looked down the hall for me. I knew he would eventually check my way, so a plan formed in my head. I could reveal myself and try to make him calm enough that could get away.

It must have been destined for failure, because the moment I sprang around the door to try it, Soran put his cane in my path, and I tumbled to the ground. He glared at me as I rolled onto my side. “What are you doing up this late?” He asked menacingly.

I coughed a bit, my breath having left me when I fell. “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I might as well check on you, sir.” I said, eyes darting between Soran and the mysterious woman.

Soran sighed and put his hand across his brow. “Oh, Alicia… I wish you’d just stayed in your bed.” Soran said, pointing the end of his cane at me. For the first time, I noticed the shaft of the cane was hollow. I also noticed a trigger-type mechanism near the handle. I instinctively rolled to the side as he pulled the trigger. As I did, a sharp metal point extended from the shaft of the cane, piercing the floorboard where I had just been. I managed to lunge at Soran, managing to grab his wrist to try and calm him. It seemed to work, and he dropped his cane on the floor. He looked at me, still clearly angry, but not violent. He growled a bit. “Alicia. You had better try to hide before this wears off. Because I will be looking for you.” And with that, I sprinted down the hall, gathered a few of my things, and left through the window.

It was half an hour later when I knocked on the door of a familiar house. The streets were cold and dark, and rain fell steadily. The door opened after a few more knocks to reveal a woman with dark hair and light blue eyes, weary with sleep. “The fuck do you want?” Blake asked. Then she looked up and saw who I was. “Alicia? What… what happened to you?” She looked over my rain-soaked clothes as she spoke.

“It’s a long story.” I said as she waved me through the door into her warm and inviting home. It was obvious, yes, but it was the only place I could think to hide. I just kept my fingers crossed that Soran wouldn’t figure it out.

Dark Coincidences

It was just the next day that the prison was destroyed. There was a massive explosion at the entrance, and the whole building eventually collapsed. It would have killed so many more people than it did, but apparently, there was a half-orc paladin who risked her life to save some of the people within. I had heard rumors about the cause of the explosion, but there was nothing concrete. So I went to the hospital the next day to talk to the paladin, but by the time I got there, she was gone. Still, there was another survivor from inside the prison. A thief. One I had seen talking to Viola before. Who Viola is, I’m not at leisure to disclose.

He told me that a woman with honey-blonde hair and a necklace that appeared to be made of orange pearls walked into the front of the prison and threw it on the floor, where it exploded, killing her and several of the guards. And, well, I knew the rest. I was just trying to piece together why this would have happened. I didn’t understand it. Why would Soran do such a thing? Or did he do anything? Maybe that woman was just acting on her own. But then… why? Why was she there that night?

I couldn’t reconcile these things in my mind. Nor could Blake. I didn’t know what to do, nor what to believe. Maybe that conversation didn’t have anything to do with the incident at the prison. Maybe… or maybe not. Blake wanted to start by figuring out who the woman was, and she had asked Viola to try and find any leads she could. We were going to meet with her the next day.

Blake also confided in me her concerns about her sister, Olivia. I knew both of them well, so the things she was describing stuck out more to me than it would to some others. Things like ignoring her slightly combative and cold history with Blake, calling her ‘sis’ despite calling her ‘Blake’ her whole life, doing a lot of public speaking despite her typical shyness, etc. The one that stood out to me was Olivia forgetting her necklace. I knew what that thing meant to her. I knew that she hadn’t so much as taken it off in the past two years, much less forgotten it on her desk.

Blake told me that while she was at the docks, a tiefling she’d made acquaintance with, whose name was Amara, presented the theory her group had regarding Olivia and the strange happenings in the city. I had only heard about illithids before, and certainly nothing as in-depth as the notes Amara had taken. The notes basically stated that the group believed a creature known as an Elder Brain was responsible for the mass paranoia gripping the city, and that Olivia was perhaps under its suggestion. Or at least that of the illithids as a whole. Amara suggested that Olivia may, in fact, be the host of an Intellect Devourer, a pet of the illithids who can overtake a person’s body and use it like a puppet. Amara also said that her sister had encountered a kind of illithid known as a Mind Flayer at the prison and, along with another ally of theirs, had managed to kill the thing.

And there it is. Everything comes back around to the prison. Coincidences abound, too many for any one person to count. Or perhaps…. None of it is coincidental at all. Maybe Amara and her friends are right. Maybe… maybe this is all a plan by the illithids to take over Waterdeep. I wish I knew what to do. But for now I’m just stuck here, hiding in Blake’s house until Soran stops looking for me. I’m scared. I’m starting to feel like the odds are stacked against me. Just like I felt when I was young. I’m still just that same scared little girl, afraid of the world. Afraid of what it might do to me.

And I’m back! No one cares, but I thought I’d say it anyway! Anyway, this is a trio of stories for my backup character in the D&D campaign I’m playing right now. Same campaign that Infelix Paucis and The Day It All Fell Apart are based on. Anyway, the character’s name is Alicia Faraday. She’s a maid to Soran Ammakyl, head of the Ammakyl noble family of Waterdeep, as well as an empath. The homebrew class I used for her can be found here. Again I say the class is not my creation. So yeah, enjoy!

#Mordai's Pages #dungeons and dragons #empath #maid #everything's connected

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