owlmoose | Dragon Age Kiss Battle!

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Dragon Age Kiss Battle!

As hinted/threatened, here it is!

Dragon Age Kiss Battle!

Based on the Kiss Battle that has run in the Final Fantasy fandom for the last few years (credit to

seventhe for the most recent variation on the rules), this is just a fun way to celebrate February with lots of fun kissing fanworks. Any kind of kiss is welcome -- het, slash, femmeslash; shippy, familial, gen; cheek kisses, mouth kisses, kissing of... other things; serious fic, fluffy fic, silly fic; fanfic, fanart, whatever you come up with; anything goes!

The post will open to prompts and comments at approximately 9AM Pacific Time, Tuesday February 7th (Click here for the time in your timezone). I don't anticipate closing it at any point, so come by any time! Update: posting is now open!!

Update: I have created a master list of fic, here! If new stories are added, I will link them from the master list.

Update, Feb. 5th 2012: This is the 2012 kiss battle, and as of now it is closed to prompts. If you are interested in participating in the 2013 round, check out the info post!

THE RULES:

To leave a request: Post a comment with a pairing (or moresome) and, if desired, a prompt. Put the pairing/characters in the subject line and the prompt in the body of the comment.

To respond: Reply to the prompting comment. Include characters, rating, and title in the subject line.

Multiple responses are both allowed and encouraged!

There is no limit to the number of prompts you can post.

Please, be kind to others regarding pairing choices, prompts, or anything else. This game is for everyone! :)

Anon commenting is on, as is OpenID, if you neither have nor want a Dreamwidth account.

Send your friends! :D

If you have questions, please ask them here. Thanks, and happy kissing!!

Update: Thanks to

ovo_lexa, there is now a Mass Effect Kiss Battle underway! (Now with bonus correct link! Oops.) Check it out.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It had been something of a tradition, a silly little thing that they had heard about once. One of the elders was talking about running away to join the Dalish - in the end, they found out, he had been killed on the road, but this was much later because you just did not tell wide-eyed children that kind of story - and he was sat in the middle of a group of younglings as he packed his few trinkets into a bag. The actual packing, of course, was taking much longer than necessary as he weaved them tales of tradition. Looking back, Shianni wonders how much was really true and how much was bullshit he had been told as a youngling by some foolhardy elder who had ended up dead on the road.
Nevertheless, this one thing had stuck.

*****

"You're leaving."
Your cousin lets out a frustrated huff of air. "Yeah."
"I... is it wrong that I want you to stay? Just for a little while."
"I wish I could, Shianni, but I don't really have much of a choice. Duncan says we need to be out of the city by dusk."
"I know." You let out a deep sigh as you regard your dearest cousin, armed and ready for a fight. It looks natural on her. You wish you were so prepared for your own battles. "I love you, cousin."
She smiles, taking your hands gently in her own. "Love you too." Kissing the back of your hands in turn, she squeezes your fingers gently. You mimic the action, the taste of her skin already dusty under your lips. "I'll be back. Promise."
"Keep your tracks hidden and your memories of home worn," you say.
"Sing of my victories and remember my peace," she replies, and you embrace one last time before she walks out of your life.

Sorry I forgot to include info...

He was in a huff again.
Herren sighed as he tried to concentrate on the books. Of course, they had been the origin of the quarrel in the first place - the money just was not coming in like it had used to. Since the Blight, most of the large orders were beyond Wade. He was just one man, and they did not have the resources to expand the business right now. So whilst the majority of the orders had passed them by, Herren held out for the vanity pieces for the arls and their sons.
He had, of course, met fierce opposition.
"But it's hideous!" was usually the response to the design, much to the offense of the designer (usually a relative of the recipient) and the chagrin of Herren who would have to smooth over ruffled feathers and pray to Andraste that they would not simply pack up and take their business elsewhere. If he was lucky, they would stay.
Wade, meanwhile, would insist on only working with the best materials, and to the Fade with the costs. This would send another wave of buyers packing, of course, and by the time he actually finished a product the price would barely cover their sorry arses til the next malleable customer came along - which was not often enough.
So yes, Herren had gotten a little upset with him. And now Wade was in a huff.
Which, thought Herren with a scowl, was exactly like him, the selfish prig. But even thinking that silently sent a wave of recrimination over him, and he had to stop himself from standing up to apologise. With another deep sigh, he continued to stare pointlessly at the books.
Perhaps the king was right. Perhaps they should relocate to the new Warden base. Amaranthine was a lovely place, by all accounts, and they would not be living hand-to-mouth...
Behind him, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and he leaned against the equally strong torso of his dearest. Wade kissed him gently just underneath the ear.
"Sorry," he whispered, and Herren smiled.

Haha, so cute. Everyone's always looking to Hawke to fix their problems ;)

Aw :')

warning for sad

"And where is your pretty young daughter?" Howe's voice is like the hiss of a snake, and it's all Eleanor can do not to flinch. She lifts her chin.

"She's gone," Eleanor says. Howe is too close for her bow, so she drops it and draws a thin dagger instead. "And you'll not catch her."

Howe laughs low in his throat. "And who will stop me? Bryce? You?" His soldiers circle around her, and Eleanor glances back at Bryce. He is half gone, his skin pale and his body limp. Her own arms are weak from fighting, though she tries not to let it show. Howe smiles. "I'll offer you this: kiss my boot and offer me fealty, and I may show some mercy to your family."

Eleanor can barely stand to look at him. She had counted Howe as a friend, perhaps a bit obsequious but loyal. The extent of her mistake makes her stomach turn. She looks down at his faded black boot, then bends to kiss Bryce instead.

He rouses enough to meet her kiss, and his lips are still as needful as when they first met. Their life together has not always been easy, but she has never doubted her love for him, or her children. Howe does not understand what this means. Eleanor looks to her husband and he meets her eyes.

He's too weak to speak, but Eleanor knows him well enough to know what he'd say. She stands and charges at Howe, blade outstretched.

"I'll die first!" she snarls, and she does, but her death is not without honor.

;_;

sad, yes, but perfect for them.

... call this a companion piece to A Room of Her Own. :)

*

Teagan undresses Bethany slowly. He unfastens the buckles on her supple Warden armor and draws it down to her waist, taking the opportunity to press a line of kisses down her spine. She shivers under his touch. “Teagan,” she murmurs.

“Shhhh. Just let me.” She’s tried to tell him about Kirkwall several times. But every time she starts to put the battle into words, her voice breaks, and Teagan can’t bear to hear it. So, he turns her around and claims her mouth, swallowing any further words with a kiss that feels more desperate on his end than on hers. She took so long to come back to Ferelden, months during which the Wardens couldn’t tell him where she’d gone, months that he was sure she was dead. Months in which he realized exactly how much Bethany meant to him. There aren’t words for it - words would be unfair to her right now, with all the emotions storming in her eyes - but he can tell her with his hands. With his arms. With his lips, which brush reverently against the pulse in her throat. He lingers there, feeling the steady beat, letting it steady him.

Bethany’s arms come around him, and for a few moments, she cradles Teagan against her breast. He feels her lips in his hair, and she whispers something too soft for him to hear. Perhaps it’s nothing meant for his ears. The words he mouths into her neck aren’t for hers.

He pulls away long enough to remove her armor entirely. She has a new scar, a nasty line that runs down her entire right side, ending at her hip. Bethany closes her eyes and turns her head away from him when he touches it. He won’t ask - maybe not ever, not if she doesn’t want to tell him - but he leans over far enough to press his lips to the top of the scar. He trails down her side slowly, letting his tongue feel the texture of the healed flesh, the slight raise where skin has knitted together again. When he reaches her hip, he slides his hands underneath her buttocks and slides her farther up the bed.

She opens up for him instinctively, no longer shy about being spread out for his pleasure. Teagan looks up at her; her eyes are moist, her jaw trembling slightly. When he bends his neck and presses a kiss into the wet heat of her, he thinks he hears a soft sob.

He spends hours making sure her sobs come purely from pleasure, and not from pain. It’s all the comfort he can give her, or himself.

Ooooh, I really like this! I always want more Alistar/Morrigan not-entirely-hate-sex. :D

::sniffles::

I believe it happened exactly like this. <3

Hee! This is awesome! :D

oh. ohhhh. This is heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. ;_;

Mirrors

reunion

The long road home

Somewhat spoilery for Asunder?

================

Alistair ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it out by the roots. Peace... it had been so close!

"Send her in," he bit out angrily. The guard bowed and backed out of the room. He turned away from the door and leaned over his desk, looking again at the map. All over the continent were large red X's. Circles that had fallen. On the blank margins of the map was a running tally of the casualties. The numbers had been growing every day.

"Your Majesty?" A voice behind him brought him up short. "I've brought the mage."

"Leave us," Alistair bit out.

"But Sire, the templars will be here shortly--"

"I want a moment with her and I still have Templar-trained abilities, guardsman," he said, still not turning around. "I'm in no immediate danger."

"Yes, Sire."

Alistair heard the creak of armor and then silence. He let it sit, the anger boiling in him like water in a kettle.

"Are we just going to stand here like idiots?" said a smooth female voice.

"I wanted to talk to you first," Alistair said. "To find out how a Warden of all people is responsible for this much death and destruction."

He heard an intake of breath. "I hardly think--"

Alistair turned around, his face a mask of fury. "No, you didn't. You took an oath! Does that mean nothing to you? Wardens protect people! And you have let them die, needlessly!"

Fiona, former Grey Warden and Grand Enchanter, stood before him, bound in chains, and nearly two feet shorter than he was. Somehow, however, she still conveyed the sense of looking down on him. Her eyes were large and fixed on him, her mouth set in a thin line.

"How many mages wanted to stay in the Circle? How many of them died begging for mercy?"

But she seemed to ignore his fury. Instead, she took a step forward, than two steps, and then another, until they were only a few feet apart.

"What are you doing?" Alistair said warily, calling on his templar abilities. He jerked back as she reached up a cuffed hand as if to touch his face. "I'm warning you--"

"You do look like him," she said in a soft voice.

"Yes, I resemble Cailan. Hardly surprising when he happens to be my brother," Alistair sneered, refusing to look at the portrait of Cailan that still hung in the study.

"No," Fiona shook her head. "Not Cailan. Maric."

Alistair stared at her. "You... knew Maric."

She was still looking at him, tracing the lines of his face with her eyes, and he realized then that she was... old. Not elderly, not like Wynne, but old. Old enough to have met Maric when he was in his prime.

"Yes," she said after a moment, in a voice that sounded suddenly tired. "I knew him." Her pointed ears seemed to droop as she broke her gaze and looked down at her cuffed hands. "The last time I saw him I was giving you..." She paused, swallowed.

Alistair grabbed her arm. "What? What did you say?"

"I never wanted this for you, little one," she said softly, tears glistening in her eyes. "I wanted you far away; safe from all of this. It's why I gave you to him. I thought he'd keep you safe."

Alistair stared at her, barely aware of the templars arriving at the door of the study.

"Goodbye, my son," Fiona whispered, pressing a kiss into his cheek. Then she was gone, huddled between two hulking templars, and Alistair, paralyzed by her words, sat down in the chair behind his desk, touching the spot on his cheek where she'd kissed him.

Just checking, as I possibly think about this one: Asunder spoilers, y/n?

I LOVE THIS. <33333
So much love for this, really.

You're awesome!!

Bethany stumbled out of her tent, blinking sleepily; she had been alone when she woke, reaching out for a lover who wasn't there, and that moment of disorientation still had her out of sorts. A few more blinks to clear her vision brought the camp into focus: a few clouds catching the pink and orange of sunrise, a pot of oatmeal over the fire, half-a-dozen Grey Wardens milling about, and the man she was looking for, Nathaniel, sitting on a fallen tree and staring intently at something.

Someone pressed a mug in her hands as she walked past. She took it and drank without really looking. It was coffee, hot and strong and sweet, just how she liked it, and she thanked the Maker for the few small pleasures of the road. Things like coffee and sunrises and the smell of trees, and Nathaniel. "Good morning," she said as she approached, words softened by a rush of shyness. They had spent over a month dancing around each other, sharing the careful banter and smoldering looks that seemed to pass for flirting in the mind of Nathaniel Howe. Eventually, they had progressed to stolen kisses and spending the occasional night together, but this was the first time they had shared a tent on the road. He'd given her no reason to doubt him, but what if he was rethinking having taken this step?

At her words, Nathaniel looked up and smiled, setting aside the small whetstone he was using to sharpen an arrowhead and taking the offered beverage. "Good morning." He sipped from the mug, then reached for her with his other hand, his long, nimble fingers closing around her wrist to tug her towards him, pulling her closer and down until her only option was to settle on his lap. Which she did, and then he kissed her, pressing his firm, generous mouth to hers, lips parting slightly, his arm coming around her waist to pull her tight to him. She rested one hand on his chest and brought the other up to his cheek, letting it slide back into his thick, unbound hair.

Somewhere far away, a Warden whistled for his hound, and Bethany pulled away, her cheeks and forehead warming at the sudden reminder of where they were. "What are you doing? Everyone will see." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, noted half a dozen of their brothers sitting by the fire, hustling around camp.

Nathaniel chuckled, deep in the back of his throat, and Bethany felt her stomach tighten. She turned back to look at him; he was smiling, and his grey eyes were warm. "Perhaps I don't care who sees." He squeezed her fingers and kissed her again, and his next words were murmured against her lips. "After last night, they'll be gossiping around the fire regardless. We may as well give them something worthwhile to discuss."

Years after, Bethany would still remember that morning as the moment she officially threw caution to the winds; she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him in return, nibbling his lips with a contented sigh. He tasted of coffee and fresh air and himself, and she let herself luxuriate in him, in one private public moment that she thought might lead to many more.

Ahh yes, the hatesex that isn't. :) Love the banter and her reactions to him.

This is very sweet. :)

I love, love how this twists Howe's words to a Cousland Warden into a scenario totally believable for Eleanor and Bryce. Heartbreaking.

Mmmm. I do love me some Bethany/Nathaniel. <3

Eeeeeeeeeeeee!

::flails::

THIS IS MADE OF EVERYTHING AWESOME.

::flails some more::

<333333333333

Finally

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Page 4 of 8

Dragon Age Kiss Battle!

I Won't Say Goodbye: Warden Tabris and Shianni, unbelievably PG

I Hate You So Much (Alistair/Morrigan, PG13)

Domestic: Herren/Wade, PG

Re: Alistair/f!Hawke

Re: Domestic: Herren/Wade, PG

Last Kiss: Eleanor/Bryce, PG13

Re: Last Kiss: Eleanor/Bryce, PG13

Language or the Kiss (Bethany/Teagan, R-ish)

Re: I Hate You So Much

Re: Last Kiss: Eleanor/Bryce, PG13

Re: Alistair/f!Hawke

Re: Language or the Kiss (Bethany/Teagan, R-ish)

Merrill/Morrigan

Alistair & Fiona

Finn/Ariane

Re: Alistair & Fiona, G

Re: Alistair & Fiona

Re: Language or the Kiss (Bethany/Teagan, R-ish)

Simple Pleasures (Bethany/Nathaniel, PG)

Re: I Hate You So Much

Re: Domestic: Herren/Wade, PG

Re: Last Kiss: Eleanor/Bryce, PG13

Re: Simple Pleasures (Bethany/Nathaniel, PG)

Re: Simple Pleasures (Bethany/Nathaniel, PG)

f!Hawke/Fenris