I am really tempted to host my very own OC Kiss Week event because I don't know when the next one is going to begin nor do I feel like waiting around to find out when. Yet there's the underlying concern I'll get no one or very little people interested in sending me OCkiss requests.
Would anyone who follows me be intrigued enough to offer their OCs to smooch or be smooched by my OCs? I'd be delighted to answer any questions you might have for any of my OCs that I have listed in my character log post called "OCs Master List". Or if you're not sure which OC of mine will be right for yours, we can discuss all the OC options from this post, through asks, or by DM.
Annabel x Kelandris Trevelyan - me and @inner-muse fiery ladies sharing a passionate kiss at Skyhold.
At last my internet has worked well enough to let me share this most wonderful piece by @dinah-myles as the most fantastic giveaway! Thank you - it means so much to see them finally kiss like this <3
Surprise! I have one more ockiss19 request to share with you all before OC Kiss Week (technically) ends! Here we have my lazy but kindhearted Kai Cadash mentally swooning over @tessa1972‘s famously beautiful and wonderful David Trevelyan! Get ready for some fluffy and adorkableness because my brain commanded it to be so.
“How did you get roped into hunting and chasing down as well as trying to capture Leliana’s escaped nug?” questioned David drolly, as the grumpy Kai Cadash dusted snow off his boiled leather armor.
“Leliana promised if I find her nug, she’d make sure no one will come and try to wake me until noon has passed,” admitted Kai, grinning roguishly at the thought of the Inquisition’s Spymaster utilizing her birds to swoop in on anyone who tried banging on his door while he busy sleeping serenely. “And that means not even Cassandra can try to break into my room about any assignments!”
Shaking some snow off his weapons, David chuckled at the dwarf’s enthusiasm for sleep and naps. “Sounds like Leliana knows you well.”
Kai shrugged. “A bit. She still hasn’t figured out all my weaknesses and I plan to keep it that way.” He paused, going suddenly still as his grey eyes loaming past David and when a familiar squeak drifted around the young noble’s ears, David realized what Kai caught sight of. Leliana’s pet nug was afoot and incredibly close to them. Carefully and with a steady grace that would have made his mother proud, David pivoted on the balls of his feet to face the unsuspecting, carefree dug. Kai fished out a cord of rope and began forming a few knots and loop, all the while keeping his focus on the animal before them.
“What are you making?” David asked, keeping his voice barely over a whisper so he wouldn’t spook the nug.
“A foot snare. Don’t worry, it’s not going to hurt the little bugger, merely stop it from getting away from us. And then we can put Leliana’s pet back in its temporary cage until its back in the waiting arms of our dear Spymaster.” The bushes closeby would perfect for his snare trap, he just needed two or three sturdy branches to create the trigger that will tighten the rope once the nug stepped into the loop.The rope was made of a softer, finer quality, given to him by Leliana herself from any trapping means for the twine would merely restrict but not chaff or cut the nug’s skin.
Years of practice enabled him to craft a relatively painless foot snare in minutes while David silently watched out, amazement blossoming in his eyes. Kai resisted the urge to puff up his chest with pride. He had to admit, he was merely showing off his survival skills at this point. Since he couldn’t dance or sing to impress such an illustrious, well-read noble like David, maybe he had the ability to impress him through the ways the hunt, dexterity, and other roguelike talents?
Hmm...does that mean I actually have to fight a bear myself for once? Albeit, he would look fetching wrapped in a bear pelt...or even sprawled out on one, naked---wait, what? Back up, brain, I’m getting way ahead of myself!
“Done!” he announced quietly, shifting his light grey gaze back in the nug, who continued to hop and sniff the snowy ground. “David, do you think you can guide the nug over here, so it can set up off the snare? Last time I chased that bugger, I slipped and fell on my ass.”
The said man grinned, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter. Kai almost lost his breath of how pronounced David’s dimples were and how breathtakingly genuine and wholesome his beam was. How was this man not swamped with suitors already?
“Don’t forget I fell too--and on my sides. I’m afraid I’m nearly as graceful as you believe me to be.”
“But I wager you’re swifter than me. Ready to seize Leliana’s nug and bring it home?”
Nodding, David began to approach the aforementioned nug, trying to lure it closer to him while reassuring the creature neither one of them meant it any harm. “Hey there, little nug. Can you please follow me? Leliana really misses you and is worried sick about you. These lands are too dangerous for a cute fellow like yourself.”
The nug eyed David skeptically and made a few hops away from him, nearing the location of Kai’s snare. The dwarf shuffled away from the trap so the animal could falsely assume the bushes would be a safe haven to hide from them. After a minute or so of coaxing and slowly inching up to the nug, David held his breath, took a step, and lunged. Just as he hoped, the nug darted forward, bounding around him and towards the bushes. There was a snapping sound of wood colliding suddenly together and the two men rushed over the snare, relieved to see a startled, confused but unharmed nug tugging on the foot snare and creating indignant, high pitched chatter.
“No more marathons for you, little critter,” rejoiced Kai, handing the wooden cage over to David to safely gather the squirming nug in his arms. “It’s back to Leliana for you!”
“Don’t you want be warm and safe?” added David, petting the nug’s head with his free hand. The creature trilled, evidently considering his words and pondering over them even as they gently positioned and nudged the nug into its temporary cage.
“Thanks for your help. I still would have been rolling around in snow, failing my arms around, and chasing this blasted critter if you weren’t here.” Kai cradled the cage underneath his armpit, glad to see Leliana’s pet starting to calm down and sniff at the wood in its cage.
“I’m always happy to assist, especially when it comes to you,” David responded, not realizing what he was saying until the words left his tongue. Eyes widening, his cheeks flushed and not from the wintery chill cleaving to the air. Neither men could forget the kiss they shared by the presumed date Varric set up for them. “I mean, it’s just, you’re so---”
Kai reached out to touch his arm, silencing any awkward half-attempts to explain himself or switch the subject. “It’s all right, David. I completely understand, I feel the same way.”
David stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?!”
Chuckling nervously, Kai scratched along the nape of his neck as he bobbed his head. “Aye. I was hoping you’d want to come with me. Mainly because I can’t seem to get you out of my head.” Now he was the one blurting things out without mulling them over first!
Poor David Trevelyan began to blush even harder, the cerise hue remarkably stark against his fair skin and five o’clock shadow, and the colorless sky above them. Suddenly, the two of them became awkward, unsure beings who teetered back and forth between making the first move or waiting for the other to initiate the next step. Kai had no idea what to do in this situation, he barely had many relationships that lasted longer than a cold drink on a blazing hot day but he didn’t view David fling material or a possible one night stand. No, he wanted to be around and with him longer than that yet being smooth wasn’t exactly his forte.
Throwing all caution into the wind, Kai made a gamble and leaned in, his intentions now painfully clearly as their gazes squarely met on and never wavered. As if sensing his desire, David tilted his head down, angling his neck to grant him a better view and position for what was about to transpire next. David then closed his eyes, his eyelashes so beautifully and curled that Kai nearly forgot what he had in mind before his eyelids innately fluttered shut and saved him from fumbling a kiss.
David’s lips were just as soft and inviting as Kai recalled, so pliable and eager yet shy, as if he was terrified he wasn’t good enough. He kept his grip on David’s arm to steady himself, even though the kiss was chaste and sweet, the lingering promise in the kiss sent his mind reeling. The landscape surrounding them might have been overbearingly chilling and harsh but with David, he felt nothing but smoldering, searing bliss.
An irritated, vociferous squeak sounded off from the cage, shattering the spell of the kiss and alerting them that Leliana’s nug had enough with its adventure and waiting around and wished to be reunited with its owner. Kai shifted the cage a little in-between his arm and the side of his torso all the while watching David blink once or twice as he recovered from the kiss and sent him a small, content beam. Like a youth in love for the first time, Kai’s heart skipped a beat at his quiet smile, a smile only meant for him and him alone.
“Maybe we can talk about this later, after we deliver Leliana her nug?” he suggested, inwardly praying the human noble would agree. If this spark between him and David did ignited into something truly special, he was going buy Varric the best thank you present ever.
Hope flashed brilliantly across David’s handsome features, the smile growing. “I would like that very much, Kai. Meet you at the tavern afterwards?”
He nodded, grinning along with him. “Definitely. Just find us a more...secluded spot. You know, for privacy reasons.”
Here is my first ficlet/story for ockiss19! I meant to post this for Thursday night but it took me longer than expected to type this all out.
In this cute oneshot, we have @jessicamarianadraws‘s Inquisitor Thanatos with one of my Hawke OCs: Brynhild. Let’s just say they both are waiting impatiently for two new additions to their family to arrive. ;)
I hope you enjoy reading this, @jessicamarianadraws!
Despite living high in the mountains with a chilling draft that pervaded throughout most of Skyhold’s rooms and corridors, Brynhild’s chamber was so unbearably hot since this morning and the Champion of Kirkwall thought she was slowly being roasted alive. A fire had been stroked to life by one of the Inquisition’s volunteers first thing in the morning to keep her warm and all the windows were close to keep the cold air outside. She spent most of the day either walking around to stretch her legs (since sitting in certain angles proved uncomfortable) to hopefully provoke her labor to arrive sooner rather than later, or resting in the bed so she wouldn’t overexert herself. Thanatos was particularly keen on the latter option, for he worried too much activity or precarious incidents could prove harmful to him and the babies. After what betided to his first wife and child, Brynhild understood his underlying fear.
Carver and her mabari Conan were her only companions, for Thanatos was forced to leave her side when a vital, emergency meeting was called upon the council. “But send a messenger to me the moment your labor begins or if you need me for anything,” he had told her, glancing down to rub her swollen belly fondly. “I want to be there when our children are born. I have no wish to miss anything.”
Morning had slowly melted away into the afternoon like the snow on the ground and only then did Brynhild start to feel a repeated onset of contractions spasming across her torso, provoking her to pace around like a caged animal with hands on her pregnant stomach as she steadily counted the pause between each forceful motion insider her womb. Her mabari, Conan, cocked his head perplexingly as he watched her almost rhythmic movements, eyes wider than saucers as her faithful companion’s tongue lopped out of his jaw. Carver, on the hand, tore his focus away from the maps he was viewing to observe the change in her behavior. “Brynhild…?”
She held out one finger at him and he halted, eyes watching her intently as she continued to count and keep one hand on her belly. Finally, Brynhild turned to her brother, a nervous smile spreading across her light pink lips. “Carver, summon the healers. I think the babies are on their way.”
Thanatos would have done absolutely anything to get out of this meeting.
Josephine was assisting greatly in subduing the verbal infighting at a minimal while also assaying to distract him from the looming possibility Brynhild could give birth any day now. That made him more jittery and anxious than ever. He was suppose to be spending time with his lover and help her relax yet of course, there had to be an urgent squabble featuring uncovered religious artifacts that fell betwixt the border of Orlais and Ferelden. Leianna was more interested in the topic of the meeting than him and since she was the future Divine and all, that made sense. He was half tempted to excuse himself on a fake errance and let Leliana and Josephine to the rest of the petty bickering. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thanatos was about to utter a biting remark when the door to the council room slammed open and in burst a ruddy, gasping messenger.
“Inquisitor!” he managed in-between breaths, grasping his knees as he hunched himself over to recover from his arduous sprint. “It’s Serah Hawke! She’s--”
Thanatos was already heading towards the exit, ignoring the baffled reactions from the Orlesians and Fereldans alike while joy flickered across Leliana’s face and Josephine beamed broadly, for they both knew what the message was about. “Where is she? Is she in her room?”
The messenger bobbed his head vigorously. “Yes! And the healers are already with her. She wanted you to know she has already her labor has just begun.”
Thanatos barely acknowledged those remaining words as she he darted from the war room and swiftly maneuvered around everyone else to reach the nearest flight of stairs. He could only hope he would be there in time and when Brynhild needed him the most.
The wet cloth being dabbed across her brow did little to cool her down, for she was glistening with perspiration everywhere and soaked her long shirt and the bedsheets underneath. Carver was doing his utmost best to help her through this herculean process and not once did he complain how hard she was squeezing his hand. All she needed was for Thanatos to be here, on her other side, and all would be well.
“Serah Hawke, you need to start pushing,” pleased one of the mages. “We don’t know how long it will take the Inquisitor to arrive and you can’t stall any longer.”
Brynhild was about to argue back when throes wracked her entire body, concentrating the most on her belly, and she gasped vociferously. Her breathing was now hitched and raspy until Carver awkwardly rubbed her back to calm her down. Unable to prevent the labor from commencing until Thanatos was present, she let out a string of curses and began pushing.
“That’s it!” cried out Mother Giselle. “We can see the head clearly now.”
Brynhild felt herself pushing again, eyes squeezed shut as she grunted, then screamed out in frustration, pain, and exhaustion, holding on to her brother’s hand more tautly than before. The door to her chambers shuddered open with a resounding bang, startling many of the healers. Brynhild did not need to open her eyes to know who came rushing in so brazenly and ignored Mother Giselle’s disapproving chiding. Her lover, her partner, was here at last.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he panted, kneeling down beside her bed as her teal eyes started adoringly at him. “I want as fast as I could. This castle has too many damn stairs!”
If she had the energy, she would have chortled. Instead, she smiled wearily. “It’s all right, Thanatos. You’re just in time.”
“Push!” interjected Mother Giselle.
“What else do you think I’ve been doing? Taking a shit?” retorted Brynhild caustically. Yet she continued to push and push until something slightly large and solid slipped between and then passed her legs, followed by incessant, raucous wailing.
“It’s a girl!” announced Mother Giselle, beaming with pride as she handed the squalling, ruddy infant over to a mage for the girl to be cleaned, examined, and swaddled. There was a patch of black fuzz on her head and inconceivable rapture flooded through both Brynhild and Thanatos as they watched the mage count their baby daughter’s fingers and toes.
“We have a girl,” whispered Thanatos in amazement, his voice so low that only she heard him.
“And she’ll have a sister or brother very soon,” Brynhild answered, grimacing as discomfort wracked her belly again and here hands and toes clenched instinctively. Immediately, Mother Giselle sat back in front of her and much to the Champion of Kirkwall’s irritation, the coaching resumed.
“Keep pushing once more, Serah Hawke! The second baby hasn’t made his or her appearance just yet.”
“That’s what Father claimed happened to Bethany when Mother giving birth to us,” commented Carver lightheartedly, trying to distract his older sister from the pain and discomfort because he sensed (and rightfully so) she was about snap at Mother Giselle again. “She didn’t want to leave the warmth of Mother’s womb supposedly.”
“Well, just like with our sister, this child has to come out soon because I’m going to carry him or her around for the rest of my life,” grumbled Brynhild, squinting her eyes shut as she gave another push or two with all her might. She prayed to the Maker her second baby was positioned properly and there would be no complications. She might have been slightly nervous about giving birth to not one but two infants yet Thanatos was even more concerned about all the possible outcomes for both during and after labor. After everything they have been through, losing her now would absolutely devastate him. His fear was quite understandable, for she too would be utterly lost and bereft if death claimed him too soon. His grip around her right hand was reassuring though, to say the least.
Minutes dragged by, despite all the tension permeating the air and how much energy she exerted to push over and over again that made the moment seem to last as long as an hour or more, the second child finally relented and was born twenty minutes after their sister.
“Congratulations, Inquisitor and Serah Hawke! You have a boy!” Mother Giselle displayed and equally chubby, big, and cerise faced infant with fuzzy raven hair who squawked indignantly about being ripped away from his warm, hospitable shelter.
“A girl and a boy,” murmured Thanatos, his eyes never leaving their son even as another mage took him from Mother Giselle to clean and change him. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have accomplished--no, what you have gifted to us both, Brynhild. Those twins are our treasures I cannot believe they are finally here.” He leaned in to kiss her hot, sweaty forehead, wishing he could do more if she wasn’t so exhausted or if they were alone and not surrounded by the present company. So for now, he settled for also kidding her beckoning mouth as she Brynhild’s teal eyes laughed lovingly and sang with delight at his tenderness.
“Believe it, Thanatos,” she said, smiling at his soft, thankful kisses. “We’re a family now.”
Their two children were soon brought to them once the sheets to her bed were changed and Brynhild was compelled to dressin a fresh long, overgrown undershirt prior to being coaxed back to bed to rest. Once the baby girl was tucked in Thanatos’s arms and their baby boy snugly secured in hers, only then did everyone file out to grant the couple some privacy. Even Carver managed to drag Conan out with the excuse to take him out for a walk.
“We still need to find them names,” she reminded him after the silenced stretched onward as they were completely engrossed and spellbound by the preciousness of their newborns. “Or else our companions will do it for us. I saw the list Varric made and I don’t know whether to laugh or burn said list.”
“Can’t be any worse than the ones Cassandra has suggested. They’re so… Andrastian.”
They chuckled un unison and Brynhild gently touched her son’s soft, pudgy fist. “We still time to decide later.”
Thanatos nodded, his gaze continually glued to their daughter. “That we do. In the end, all that matters is they are here and healthy.”
Day Two: Through the Fire and Back [Hyal x Phaedra]
So here is my other ockiss19 request for OC Kiss Week! This story goes back to my grumpy Sith Pureblood Hyal Tyuuk and @highjustices's awesome and compelling Chiss Phaedra Lex! I’m sucker for character torture so enjoy reading about Hyal going through one of his personal nightmares! Because he loves his Sith gal THAT much and even more so. ;)
Hyal both loathed and feared fire with every fiber of this being. Even the heat of the flames sent him back to the traumatic, heinous memory where one of his half cousins, eager to please Hyal’s half siblings, nearly scorched off half his visage with her special brand of pyrokinesis, while she cackled through his screams. Her two brothers had held him down so he couldn’t fight back with his fists.
Yet there was only one reason, one person he’d brave all the fires of Hell and face the demons in his head even if it meant he’d be drinking an entire flagon of Vassarian Brandy to steady his nerves and make the flames a distant, hazy recollection. Phaedra was worth the struggled and as long as she got out of the base in one piece, he will storm through ring of fire.
“...Hyal? ...still there?” crackled the aforementioned Chiss’s voice through their comm piece. Static pervaded through their connection most of the time thanks to the now crumbling ruin of the defective base but every now and then, Hyal would discover a strong signal and connect to Phaedra again. However, detecting her current location was easier with the Force. That is, when his trepidation over the fire and urge to dodge from any signs of conflagration didn’t distract him, however brief.
“I’m still here, Phaedra. I’m nearing your location. How are you holding up?” The Sith Pureblood idly flicked his wrist and several chunks of debris instantly floated upward and were tossed aside like crumpled paper balls.
“Could be better. The smoke… getting hotter… the stupid door… I’m going to try---” Their connection was cut off again and only silence remained.
“SHIT!” he roared, his rage strengthening the volume in his force as well as the Force bursting from his fingertips, hurtling broken crates, barricades, metal support beams, and other charred, large objects across the vast chamber and striking the opposite walls. When he found the pansy Sith Lord who lured Phaedra with a promise of information against her foes and trapped her in the meeting room to roast her alive, he’ll rend that spine off his back with or without the Force. Due to his weaselly actions, the sorry excuse of a Sith had no use for it.
Their comm link reaching nothing but static at the moment, Hyal charged through, gritting his teeth as fiery fingers danced around his feet and cloak, taunting him with their destructible power while the blazing heat stroked his flesh like the curious hands of a lover. He would not let the fire consume Phaedra the way it did to him. All his skin could melt off if it ensured his love’s survival. He would be nothing more than a wrathful, wandering beast if he was deprived of her and the Empire would be poorer without her leading the charge against the Republic or anyone who dare to stand in their way.
The Force guided him to a nearby corridor, through the winding halls before taking him an arched door wrought with flowery designs and archaic symbols and there, behind that door, throbbed Phaedra’s presence and link to the Force. “Phaedra, I’m here!” Hyal shouted over the crackling fire and the groaning of the building’s impending collapse. He ignited his lightsaber, intending to carve the door open with his weapon and drag his lover to safety. Funnily enough, through the solid metallic surface of the door emerged Phaedra’s lightsaber, the tip peeking out as a jagged, lopsided circle began to take shape, red hot lines following in its wake. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but cock a half grin. Apparently, great minds think alike for Phaedra was doing the exact same tactic he had in mind.
Deactivating his lightsaber, Hyal spend the time waiting to clear out the hallway and smoother the closing flames with the Force, piling debris after debris until the strength of the inferno weakened and slowly evanesced from his view. When he turned around, there was a gaping hole in the closed door and Phaedra stumbled outside, her azure features and clothes completely caked in soot and blood. In an instant, he was at her side, catching her as she swayed forward and hacked violently, her breathing hoarse and ragged from all the smoke she probably inhaled.
“Phaedra, we’ll be out of this mess soon. I already sent backup from our teams the moment I stepped foot into this hellish place.” Innately, he stroked her hair and then briefly, her back, hoping to calm her body and keep her breathing and focused before they had to move. The warmth from her huddled form, so nigh and pressed up against him, soothed Hyal. He kissed the top of her head, reassuring himself she was really here, in his arms, and to also assuage her fears that he was no hallucination from her oxygen deprived self.
“Hyal...I can’t believe you,” Phaedra croaked out, crimson eyes wide in wonder at him.
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
Feebly, she gestured to their surroundings, pointing out all the fiery damage wrought by the hungry, vermilion jaws that still haunted his dreams at times. “The fire… you still are wary of it.” That was kind of her to say that rather than admit his swallowing fear of the said beastly inferno.
“Yeah but my love for you is far more more important and stronger than my...reservations towards fire.” He rested her head on his shoulder, propping her up to her feet as he leaned against the wall for support. “I would burst through every burning building in the galaxy to keep you safe and fighting for another day, Phaedra. Never doubt that.”
A shadow of a smile grazed her lips. “I never did, Hyal. I’m just touched, that’s all.”
With that said, Hyal’s small grin widened ever so slightly. And somehow, through all the raging, smoking chambers of inferno and smoldering heat, the way back to the base’s entrance didn’t seem so awful. It was as if the flames could not touch or hold any power over him with Phaedra at his side.
Love made a man do crazy deeds. Yet the baffling emotion also had odd ways of protecting them and their lovers too.
Yeah, I’m horribly late with my first entry of ockiss18/OC Kiss Week. My full time job and plans with friends and my boyfriend make typing up the ficlet harder to do. I almost had this one done Friday night but it was getting late and I needed sleep for work. :/
But here is Day 1 for ockiss18, featuring my SWTOR bounty hunter Regan Sedae and @gaiden1974‘s smuggler Aram Dakarii. Enjoy!
This fucking bounty better be worth it.
The crate was bumped and jostled about, causing her head to collide with the solid wooden walls while her horns scraped the lid. Her limbs ached from being twisted around in an uncomfortable position for so long. Why she agreed to this hare-brained scheme was beyond Regan, especially since there had to have been an easier way to smuggle her into the target’s private estates. But the smuggler she contacted days ago who knew the layout of the target’s fortified manor as well as security system, suggested she had to be concealed within in the cargo, for she’d be recognized as one of the Imperial’s fear bounty hunters on sight alone.
“After all, there aren’t too many over six feet tall, female Zabrak bounty hunters in the galaxy,” the smuggler, Aram Dakarii, had explained, a cheeky grin forming upon his lips while his eyes were alight with humor. “No offense.”
“None taken. Then if I can’t be seen until I enter the compound, what do you propose?”
The smile widen. “How flexible are you?”
Stupid, fucking smug bastard probably had a bigger crate and neglected to mention it. I swear, if we’re not almost at our destination, I’m bursting out of this like an irate Jack-in-the-Box.
Normally, Regan kept her cool and practical mindset for long periods of time (unlike her older sister, Goneril, who was impatient and loathed to be kept waiting), but being contorted into a pretzel knot followed by constant, gracelessly maneuverings were doing no wonders to improve her already sour mood. At the end of this assignment, she was heading to a spa.
In the midst of her internal grumblings, the lid to the crate opened and instinctively, Regan brandished her blaster up into the face of a startled but amused Aram Dakarri.
“Whoa! It’s me, Aram! No need to blast me in the face, especially since I helped sneak you into the esteemed, snooty Nastalia Argoria’s wine cellar. For drinks, she sure has some fine taste.”
“We’ll take a few of them for our troubles,” Regan answered as she awkwardly and stiffly climbed out of the box. “And was smuggling me like this really necessary? Couldn’t you have utilized a longer or larger crate?”
He shrugged. “Then I’d have to use a coffin. And try explaining to Nastalia’s many guards why the delivery boy has a dead body ready for burial in his supply vehicle.”
Regan sighed, stretching out her sore arms and legs. “Point taken. Now, down to business. Show me the layout of this entire mansion and the grounds. We only have one shot at this.” She set a holo on top of the crate she was previously in and a basic blueprint of the luxurious house in question was projected--courtesy of her smuggler-in-crime when they first agreed to work together to take down Nastalia Argoria and split the bounty. He didn’t care about why the Imperial Empire wanted this businesswoman dead (the Empire was never keen on people stealing data from their top secret projects or housing traitors), he wasn’t into sides or allegiances, or the politics between the Empire and the Republic. His loyalty to her and this mission could be bought with a multitude of credits and an honorbound contract he’ll refuse to break, eve if Nastalia herself attempted to bribe him. That notion was rather comforting, given to how rare it was for someone who didn’t fight for either side to stay true to a hired job. Aram’s honor made her mission easier, for the Zabrak fathomed Aram wasn’t the type to stab her in the back. The front maybe, but never the back.
“Security is tight along these floors--” he gestured to the bottom, third, and top floor-- “but the servants are too preoccupied with preparations for the banquet tonight to care enough to keep a vigilant watch for any unwelcomed guests. We might be able to sneak along unnoticed but that could be risky. And I’m not sure where Lady Fancypants is holed up.”
“I have a hunch. Yet first, we’ll need to disguise ourselves so we can move around the manor freely.”
And that was how the two of them ended up procuring everyday clothes from the laundry room and posed as the head caters for tonight’s banquet. Somehow, there managed to be clothes that fit Regan and she found a schick, colorful silk scarf to drap around her head and partly cover her mouth to hide most of her Zabrak tattoos and the twin crescent scars on her mouth. Her blaster was hidden amongst her loose blouse and pants while Aram concealed his around inside his boot. The security guards hassled them only briefly and then let them through to the next hallway once they announced they were the caters Miss Nastalia hired and they needed to discuss business as well as good arrangements.
Just as Regan suspected, her target was in her room, finalizing her outfit and appearance for tonight.
“Are you going to shoot her the moment she admits us into her chambers?” whispered Aram as they briskly strolling down the halls. “That’s going to cause some ruckus and attention that ends with us getting chased and shot at. Have any escape plans?”
Despite herself, she grinned at his queries. “That’s a ‘yes’ to the latter.” Without offering any explanations, she knocked on the door, only waiting for about ten seconds prior to an airy, bored voice beckoned them in.
“Finally, there are some people in the business of arriving early,” droned out Nastalia Argoria as she applied blush to her face, motioning for the two of them to sit. “Everyone else is lagging behind and I fear the florist and decorator will rush their work since they won’t be here until twenty minutes after the agreed time.”
“What a pity,” Aram responded with feigned sympathy as he and Regan quietly retrieved their pistols.
“Some people cannot comprehend time management,” added Regan, continuing the act as she narrowed her paralysis dart on the unsuspecting woman. “Or the consequences in crossing the Empire.” The dart flew from her gauntlet and embedded itself into the woman’s back. Her target dropped like a fly and Regan approached her as Aram stood guard at the door.
“Scream and I’ll shoot,” she ordered. The socialiste whimpered. The dart paralyzed her body but her tongue could still wag. “Where are you housing the Imperial traitor and data you stole?”
“I-I don’t know!” stammered out the no longer bored, annoyed businesswoman. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“They always don’t,” mused Aram out loud as he crossed his arms and smirked at the scene unfolding before him.
“I don’t have to listen to you lie with every breath you take,” growled Regan, smacking Nastalia across the face with the end of her blaster. Her pained cry startled Aram for a second or two but he said nothing, not appearing like he cared enough to interfere with her methods. After all, he still wanted half of that bounty prize.
Her target continued to whimper as an ugly, dark bruise began to form and Regan rolled her eyes at Nastalia’s antics--her acting fooled no one. Just when she was about to push her again, the Zabrak bounty hunter heard the sound of jumping and Aram firing off his blaster. She lept and then rolled away, aiming her blaster at the intruder who came from the bedroom. One look at the new woman’s face, a human sporting a tight bun and pursed, thin lips, confirmed the bounty hunter this was the traitor she was hired to kill. Aram was distracting her long enough for Regan to get a decent shot in, her finger squeezing the trigger with ease. Both her and his blaster fired at the same time--her hit got the traitor in the temple while his shot struck her shot. The traitor latently sank to the ground, head first into the carpet. Nastalia sighed in exasperation.
“How useless…” she grumbled. “So now that you killed your traitor, can you please cease this abhorrent interrogation. I don’t have the data or whatever information you’re searching for.”
“Check the corpse and see if there is anything on her. If you find nothing, take a look in the bedroom.” ordered Regan, ignoring Nastalia’s words but watching how that woman’s eyes darted anxiously to the bedroom once more, like something precious was in there she needed to watch over.
“You know, I’d be more interested in checking out your bedroom,” Aram remarked drolly, sending her a wink when she rolled her eyes. Funny, usually she’d be scowling at people’s attempts to make a pass at her but Aram was tolerable. Not mention he was roguish and attractive for a human, particularly with that long jagged scar running down his features. A man with scars impressed her, for they told her small stories of his life and what battles he fought, molding him into a more experience man. She wondered if he had any more elsewhere on his body.
“That’s a conversation for another time, when we’re done with this assignment,” Regan chided, neither flirting back or discouraging his attempts. The Zabrak bounty hunter was still trying to figure this perplexing yet oddly charming smuggler out. Certainly they were allies now but anything could change once their partnership was at an end.
While Aram first searched the dead traitor and found nothing, he proceeded to the bedroom, Regan continued to observed the Nastalia lady and trained her blaster squarely on her forehead. The snobbish businesswoman wasn’t going to talk about the data she stole but she still was clearly in the mood to chat about anything else.
“I still cannot believe a pair of filthy, scruffy scumbags like you managed to trespass my premises and fool my guards! Clearly, I’ll have to change my security once this is over.”
A feral grin slowly spread itself across Regan’s black tattooed, scarred lips, allowing her stance to relax in a casual manner to throw her target off and let the fear sink in. “What makes you think you’ll be alive once I found what I came here for. I was given two bounties to settle, not one.”
Nastalia’s eyes widen at the implication and before she could holler for help, Regan jammed her scarf into her mouth and practically down her throat, relishing her victim’s twitching and garbled attempts at speech now she was properly gagged. “Aram, can you hurry it up? We don’t have all day!”
“Slow and steady wins the race, Regan. But lucky for us, I found where Miss Fancypants keeps her safe. Easy to crack.” The smuggler emerged from the bedroom, dangling a datapad between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like we hit the jackpot, if this is the stolen data you sought.”
There was no mistaking the alarm flashing in the target’s eyes as he handed the datapad over to Regan, who smirked victoriously as she scrolled through the contents of the files. Each and every page was marked by Imperial scientists and military agents, and a few Sith. After all the trouble that went into infiltrating this estate, it was relief to have crucial Imperial information back in her hands and away from people like Nastalia Argoria to sell to the highest bidder amongst enemies of the Empire. And she couldn’t wait to spend credits on a much needed relaxation.
“This is definitely what we came here for,” Regan confirmed, pointing her blaster at the limp businesswoman, who was trying to scream with her gag right before she was shot point blank in the forehead. Silencing that schemer would send a clear message to everyone else who might plan to house traitors of the Empire who made off with Imperial secrets.
“That was quick,” remarked Aram, gesturing to the now dead Nastalia. “Is that how you usually operate?”
“When it’s necessary. I don’t want us to overstay our welcome because sooner or later, people are going to wonder why she hasn’t emerged from her chambers.” She tilted her head over at a nearby window. “And that’s our escape plan.”
Aram whipped his head from her to the window and back at her, his eyes widening so rapidly in shock that Regan could hardly resist to grin cheekily at his reaction. Now it was her turn to put him through an not ideal strategy!
“I’m not jumping out of that window, there is no way we’ll land without breaking any bones.”
She scoffed. “Who said anything about jumping? I’m a fucking bounty hunter, we have jetpacks.” For emphasises, she pulled the loose fitting blouse up over her head and yanked it away, revealing a set of advanced jetpacks strapped to her back. The smuggler let out a low whistle as he studied their getaway device.
“How the hell did I miss that before?”
“Because you were too busy staring at my ass to notice.”
Warm, rich laughter bubbled out of him at her ripostle. “Touche!” The chuckling then faded as he observed the jetpack once more. “I only see one. Are you going to carry me or do I have to hold on?” He didn’t bring up the possibility that she was leaving him behind, which hadn’t crossed her mind until now. Aram made a better friend and foe and besides, she was beginning to warm up to him.
“Just wrap your arms around me and hold tight--I’ll do the same. And don’t be startled when the jetpack roars to life.”
The smuggler appeared positively gleeful at her choice of words, his grin so wide and suggestive Regan almost craved to smack it off his face. Key word almost. “That’s more than I ever expected to share with you. The more I hoped for when all of this was over and done with was a kiss.”
She arched one incredulous eyebrow. “Really? Just a kiss?” came her dry respond as Aram followed her earlier instructions and gripped her back tight, his legs prepared to encircle themselves around her thighs. Their faces were now closer than they had ever been before and she noticed what a deep green his eyes were. They reminded her of the jungles of Dromund Kaas or the hills her and her sister Goneril ran around with their father when they were children. That was a memory she hadn’t pondered about for a long time.
“Well, I can’t be too greedy,” admitted Aram, still sporting that cheeky grin of his. “After all, we only have known one another for about a week and not everyone is willing to kiss something they just met, or even go further than that.”
As if on cue, her jetpack roared to life, the heat from the engines warming her rear and legs as she stepped towards the double balcony windows, lifting both her and Aram up high and over the stone sculpted balcony. With such incredible force and speed, they were able to leave the opulent, privately ensconced estate beyond in the matter of minutes, ignoring the passersby outside who stared up at them in absolute wonder and confusion. Her exit strategies were never quite subtle.
“We might have to blast our way to your ship,” she warned Aram through the blaring of the wind and her jetpack’s humming. “There is a chance Nastalia’s entries might realize something is wrong.”
“They’re not that clever to make the connections that soon. They will give her another hour and by then, we’ll be long gone.” At her inquiring look, he elaborated. “I may have stolen or broke in Miss Fancypants’s manor before. They will don’t know it was me.”
Regan Sedae wondered if those guards did not truly care about their now deed mistress or they really were that incompetent. Or Aram Dakarii was that good at his job
Due the strain on her jetpack of carrying two persons instead of just one, she was forced to land earlier than intended and they used speeders to return to the docking center to get back to Aram’s ship. What they did not plan out was for a customs officer blocking their passage and preventing them from leaving the planet with ease. They needed a cover story, one that wouldn’t provoke an avalanche of questions and suspicions.
“Oh, my boyfriend and I were just her for a little lover’s retreat!” Regan answered with a feigned sweet voice to the officer’s first query. Impulsively, she grabbed Aram’s face with both hands and kissed him fully on the lips, displaying the image of a passionate girlfriend who couldn’t get enough of her lover. While Aram didn’t expected the kiss at first, he was quick to join in and keep up the act. One of his hand snaked itself up her back while the other rested firmly on her left hip, their height differences making the impromptu kiss interesting to perform. His tongue teasingly forked itself across her slightly parted lips and in return, she let out a little moan against their kiss, refusing to let him outdo her in this charade of theirs. After a half of a minute of them kissing and trying to top each other in terms of intensifying their ploy, they broke away to face a very tired and annoyed customs officer.
“That’s great,” he replied sardonically. “And where are you two heading now?”
“Tatooine,” Aram answered swiftly. Tatooine was technically their destination to collect the bounty so at least, that reply was true. He then clasped his hand around Regan and brought her hand to his mouth, lingering over her knuckles in an airy, tender manner. “I cannot believe my vacation with my gorgeous honeybun is over.”
Her eyes flashed at the cheesy nickname. Two could play at that game. “Me neither, smoochie-poo. At least we’ll be alone and together on the ride back home.” As she spoke, she watched the officer out of the corner of her eye. The man looked entirely fed up with their overt display of affection. Perfect!
“Take your kissing party inside your ship. Safe travels.” grumbled out the customs officer and waved them through.
Once they boarded his ship and could relax, Regan placed both hands on her hips and cut him an incredulous, ill humored glance. “Honeybun? Really?”
“Don’t look at me, you call me smoochie-poo! Mine was at least cute.” An impish glean sparked in his verdant eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Would you instead prefer if I had called you sugar tits?”
The Zabrak tried to maintain a straight face yet failed, a snort escaping her restraints. “Do that and you’re a dead man, Aram.”
Chortling and then, a nod of understanding was his first response. “Fair enough.” And his lively verdant eyes were now full of mirth and intrigue. Compared to her first ride with him, the return ride would be much more comfortable and easier to enjoy.
But like hell would she get in a crate again to sneak into a target’s home again!
I am finally picking up the pace with these OC kisses! I present to you Day 3 of OC Kiss Week of ockiss18. This time, this ficlet stars my OC Egil Swenhaugen and @mllecomtessedelafere‘s Katherine Van Helsing. They’re a couple in one of our old Van Helsing RPs and have four children: Keiran (not Egil’s son by blood but by love), Danica, Kasper, and Aurelia.
Without further ado, enjoy this little story!
To say he was nervous when his daughter, Danica, went into labor was an understatement.
Egil knew he shouldn’t be so concerned--Katherine had given birth four times with no complications or life threatening issues. But she was older than their eldest daughter when she had Keiran and Danica was merely nineteen. The same age her aunt Ragna was when she died giving birth to Sigrid. His parents had to deal with the grief of burying their only daughter years before her time--an experience he fervently prayed he would never have to endure. He doubted the bastard Werner would shed a tear if Danica died in labor. He’d probably view it as an escape from the marriage he himself imposed on Danica once the German officer learned she was carrying his children. Even now, Egil’s contempt for his unwanted son-in-law burgeoned to inexplicable heights, fathoming Werner wouldn’t be treating his daughter with the respect and love she deserved to have in a marriage. One of these days, he and Katherine would carry out their hopeful, fervid wish to dispatch that odious man and free Danica and her soon-to-be-born baby from his clutches. Until then, they had to wait and by Thor’s balls, he absolutely detested waiting.
“Is everything all right, Egil?”
His wife’s voice was a balm to his dark fears and concerns and the said man glanced up to face her and those beautiful, inquiring sapphire eyes of hers. A lock of blonde hair that escaped his ponytail flopped in front of his line of sight and he forcibly ticked it behind his ear.
“I’m just…” He paused, surveying the mostly empty hospital room prior to resuming. Werner wasn’t around to overhear them anyway. “I’m worried about Danica, Dame Engel. I know you and the doctor said she’s doing fine and the baby is due to arrive in an hour or less, for it appears to be a fast birth. But... I cannot help it but to worry for our daughter and the child’s safety.” After all, anything could betide. Their daughter was strong but so was his sister and her body couldn’t recover from Sigrid’s birth.
Sitting down beside him, Katherine took one of her husband’s hands and bright it close to her chest, right near her heart. “Are you remembering your sister?” Egil didn’t need to answer, she could see the truth so anguishly displayed in his stormy grey eyes, breaking through his usually stolid exterior. From what he told her, Ragna was Danica’s age when she had Sigrid and the notion of losing their firstborn daughter chilled her to the bone. While there were no current complications that last time she inquired the doctor (a human who knew of the Swenhaugen House’s secret identity as shapeshifters and was particularly loyal to Egil’s side of the family) prior to Danica had began pushing. She wanted to hold her daughter’s hand through it all but Werner insisted it would be him at Danica;s side, not her own mother. Bastard probably relished watching all the pain her daughter was going through to bring their baby into this trouble world. Katherine hoped Danica would squeeze Werner’s hand so hard that it’ll shatter.
“It also does not help that her husband --” he spat the word out as if it was poison, “-- doesn’t care a flying fig about her. If she dies and he tries to take our grandchild away from us, I’ll butcher him.” His fist clenched underneath her hand and the vampire-fallen angel hybrid smiled a little despite the circumstances. Nothing or no one could truly damper her husband’s resolve or fighting spirit.
“And I’ll join in,” she vowed, her gaze just as steady and solemn as his. “But right now, all we can do is wait and pray for the best possible outcome for Danica.”
Resting his forehead against hers, Egil leaned in to kiss her, feeling her soft lips press up against his as Katherine returned the gesture, all their worries, hopes, and prayers mingling together in that brief but loving kiss. She blinked almost sleepily as he moved to also kiss her brow, his fingers unclenching beneath her grasp.
“You know we’re going to spoil that grandchild of ours rotten,” he finally spoke after a few minutes of silence, a small smile creeping on his chiseled visage.
Giggles bubbled out of Katherine after so many hours fraught with anxiety and uncertainty, and now, she was beginning to feel a little bit lighter. “Of course we are! Between us, your mother, Danica, and the rest of our children, that baby will be loved oh so dearly.”
Barely an hour had passed before strident, wailing screams erupted throughout the waiting room, breaking both Katherine and Egil out of their thoughtful conversation with Egil’s mother, Hedda Swenhaugen, who arrived at the hospital twenty minutes ago with Keiran, Kasper, and Aurelia. Sigrid and her family were detained at the moment but would soon be there to wish the new additional to the Swenhaugen family well. Egil recognized those cries belonged to an infant and one look at his wife showed she too was eager to receive updated news. Prior to they could leave to inquire once more about Danica’s health as well as the baby’s, one of the nurses who helped with the birth came out to address the waiting Swenhaugen family.
“Mr. and Mrs. Swenhaugen?” she called out and one cue, they rushed to her.
“Is everything all right? How are the baby and our daughter?” The sight of the nurse’s broad grin made Egil’s heart soar and then banish his inner trepidations. Danica and her newborn would live.
“Both mother and child are doing just fine now. And congratulations on your grandson!”
At her announcement, their family cheered. Katherine threw her arms around a proud Egil, both parents immensely blissful and grateful that Danica’s fate fared much better than of her great aunt Ragna. There was no more need for fretting, they could relax and bask in the knowledge they just became grandparents to Danica’s beautiful, healthy baby boy.
