owlmoose | Dragon Age Kiss Battle: 2013 Edition

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Dragon Age Kiss Battle: 2013 Edition

Welcome to the 2013 Dragon Age Kiss Battle!

Any kind of kiss is welcome -- het, slash, femslash; shippy, familial, gen; cheek kisses, mouth kisses, kissing of... other things; serious, fluffy, silly, or all three at once; fanfic, fanart, whatever you come up with; anything goes!

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

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.

Artwork can be posted inline, but try not to make it too large. Please link to images that are very large or NSFW.

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!!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Wesley and Donnic were two very different men. It was evident, Aveline thought, in the way they kissed.

Wesley’s kisses had always been sweet, tender. A little awkward at first - they’d been each other’s first, in just about everything, and it took a while for them to figure out where noses and hands properly went during the whole proceeding. But it had been fun, she remembered, nervous laughter turning into genuine enjoyment. And as Wesley learned how to do the sorts of things that made Aveline swoon, he went about them with the same dedication as he brought to his higher calling.

Donnic - well, she wasn’t near his first in anything. And that was more than okay. Donnic had the confidence that Wesley sometimes lacked; his kisses were firm, his tongue dancing between Aveline’s lips before she had a chance to catch her breath. Sometimes, his confidence was harder to take - early encounters turned into something like wrestling matches, as Aveline tried to guide him in a direction that pleased her. It took a while, to match their rhythms. But Aveline had to admit, she rather liked being with someone who could sweep her away like Donnic did. Sometimes, it was nice to give up control and let him steer their passion in his own way.

“So,” Isabela asked once, over drinks in the Hanged Man, “does Donnic measure up to Ser Templar? You know, in the important ways?”

Aveline ignored the eyebrow waggle that accompanied the question. “There is no ‘measuring up,’” she answered. “It’s like comparing apples and oranges.”

“Oh, you’re no fun. Unless you’d like to elaborate on the differences.”

“Not in this lifetime.” But Aveline smiled to herself. She was lucky, to have had the love - and the passion - of two such men. "Those details belong to me."

Ahh, this is adorable. And I love Isabela trying to get the details. So perfectly her. XD

LOL. Awww, Bethany. Undone by a smooth-talking prince. :)

It was late at night, and the humans were sleeping. Ser Pounce-a-Lot saw his chance.

The humans insisted that these mabari hounds were smarter than your average dog, but Pounce knew better. More accurately, he knew that this Dog was still dumber than he was, and certainly smellier. Pounce could not stand the smell of Dog, especially when it had that... stuff on its eyebrows.

Pounce knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he left the warm cuddly human behind and crept out of the tent. With silent paws, he crossed the campsite to where Dog was sleeping by the fire.

At last, he would have his chance to assert dominance over this Dog as well as resolve this troublesome stench issue. So silently, Pounce approached Dog and eyed the not-human-blood-goop in the fur above its eye. As he neared, he could smell it again. Ugh! Dog was disgusting! Pounce would have to take care of him, since dogs could clearly not take care of themselves.

He leaned forward and braced himself for what was to come. One, two, three, four swipes of his tongue and the foulness was gone. Pounce's stomach churned at what he was tasting, and he crept off to the side and, as silently as possible, hacked up a hairball to get rid of the smell and the taste of whatever he had just cleaned off of Dog's head. The things he had to put up with!

Pounce turned to glare at Dog one last time, and noticed that the creature's eyes were open. He narrowed his eyes, making his glare even more withering.

Dog just exhaled a short whine. Thank you.

Pounce twitched his whiskers. Someone had to do it. He stepped forward and sniffed at Dog's ears, just to make sure he had gotten to all the stench--

"RRRRRRYYYOOWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" Pounce found himself exclaiming as wet, cold, slimy mabari tongue made contact with his back legs. "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSS," Pounce added before turning and fleeing back to the tent with his warm cuddly understanding human.

He barreled into the tent, not caring about flaps or decorum, and submerged himself under the blanket where his human was napping. Safe in hiding, he could now commence the ritual cleaning, rolling onto his side and setting to the horrific task of removing mabari slobber from his precious fur.

"Pounce," said his human sleepily, "what is your issue?"

Indignant, Pounce reached out a single claw and poked his human in his bare, fleshy arm. That would teach the human to question his cleaning ritual. Sigh. It was difficult being the only intelligent creature in this rag-tag pack.

Edited (subject line) 2013-02-09 02:34 (UTC)

Holy shit someone actually filled this. >.< This is perfect!

How could I resist Ser Pounce-a-Lot? It was impossible.

“It's been a long time since I've been up here.”

“Me, too.”

The Knight-Commander cast a sideways glance at her, taking in her appearance as she gazed out at the night sky and the dark water of the lake below them. She was much older now, but the years had been kind to her. More than they'd been to him, at any rate. The years of daily lyrium-taking were starting to have an effect on his mind, and he knew if he didn't step down from his post soon he'd end up an addled old fool who couldn't remember his own name.

Even his memories of the times they had spent together were beginning to fade. All of those stolen moments and forbidden nights when they had lain in one another's arms and whispered sweet words to each other were becoming harder to recall. He was desperate to hold on to them. They were the few pleasant memories he had of his time spent at Kinloch Hold.

“I'll need to be leaving, soon, if I'm to try to talk some sense into the Grand Enchanter before it's too late.”

“I know,” came his quiet reply, and before he could let his better judgment take hold he reached out for her and pulled her to him the way he had so many times before.

He expected her to be reluctant, considering the horrible way things had ended between them, but she was anything but. It was almost as if she had been waiting for him to make the first move, her lips eagerly grasping at his from the moment they first touched. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, his heart hammering so hard in his chest that he swore it was practically reverberating against the armor he wore. He felt like he was twenty years old again, but he knew it couldn't last.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and gazed into her eyes, a sudden feeling of sadness coming over him.

“Greagoir?” she softly called his name and reached up to gently brush her fingers back through his hair. “What's wrong?”

“I just had this sense that I might never see you again after tonight.”

She sighed. “That may very well be true, if the Grand Enchanter refuses to back down from this desire of hers to break from the Chantry.”

“Be careful, Wynne,” Greagoir requested, kissing her briefly one last time. “And if you see our boy, tell him... something.”

Wynne chuckled, knowing he was never very good with words. “I will.”

And with that, she left him alone with only his fading memories.

This is lovely and sad, and I love the layers of time that are built up between them.

Tattoos, piercings, and scars.

Alistair stood at a distance for a while, simply observing her as she gazed up into the night sky, the moonlight catching the silver flecks in her grey eyes and making them sparkle. He wrung his hands around the gift he had chosen for her, rehearsing what he was going to say over and over and hoping he didn't mess up. It had to be perfect... it just had to. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and strode over to her, but his confidence failed when she turned sad eyes up to look at him.

“Oh... Hello, Alistair. I didn't see you there.”

“What's wrong?” he asked her, taking a seat next to her in the grass.

“I was just thinking about how Irving would sneak me up to the top of the tower every year so I could see the stars for my birthday.”

“Oh! Right!” Alistair said, suddenly remembering why he had gone looking for her in the first place. He then cleared his throat and presented his gift to her – a single red rose.

“Happy Birthday, Varia,” he told her, his cheeks nearly the same shade of crimson as the flower in his hand.

“Alistair, this is so sweet,” she replied, taking the rose from him. “Thank you.”

“I just... I saw it and it made me think of you and... Maker, you're so beautiful... And I want you to know that I don't care that you're a mage and an elf and I know we haven't known each other that long but I really care about you and--”

Varia reached up and grasped him by the back of his head, guiding his lips to hers. Endearingly awkward as he may be, she knew if she didn't make the first move he would never get to finally kissing her.

And she's here to write her name
On my skin with kisses in the rain
Hold my head and ease my pain
In a world that's gone insane...

(yeah, these are the lyrics that inspired this prompt, not the fill xD)

Edited 2013-02-09 05:57 (UTC)

That's very cute.

So sweet. I like the extra perfect timing of the rose in this.

Ha! I love how Alistair yawns and rolls over to sleep at the end.

The mix of snark and mutual surprise is perfect.

The weight of memories and time here is lovely. Nicely done.

omg this is perfect. :D

I love his accidental perfect timing. :) Thank you!!

Let's try that again.

Revelations

Thanks! :D

OMG.

Sebastian's accent.

And being a pirate.

::dead::

Ahem. This was very good. :D

Thank you! Someday I'll be able to write all of Vrania's story properly and continue this on. Unfortunately, I can't let myself do so until after DA3, or else I'll end up having to rewrite more than I'd want to.

Festival Kissing Booth

Isabela can't resist. The King, here? It's the work of hardly a minute to gain unauthorized access to the Keep and make her way to the visitors' quarters (she's been there before, after all; traveling nobility do tend to bring portable wealth with them.) She finds the king alone before the fire, stripped down for a room that's far warmer than it needs to be, and he looks older, more tired than he did in the Pearl. Being in charge seems to do that to people. (But not her. Then again, a ship's hardly a kingdom, is it?)

"Well, well, well," she says, and watches him jump and flail and upset a mug of mulled wine in his frantic grab for his weapons. She leans back against the doorjamb and laughs herself silly, because the King of Ferelden is in naught but an undertunic and smalls, dripping with mulled wine and attempting to intimidate her with a Templar shield and a sword that is, admittedly, rather large.

"Isabela," he says, "what on earth are you doing here? It's a good way to get killed, sneaking up on me like that."

"Do tell," Isabela says. "I imagine your Warden Queen has surprised you a time or two." On the other hand, Lady Cousland--now Queen--had always favored the bow. Likely she didn't sneak around like Isabela did.

Alistair sighs and puts his weapons down, away from the slowly seeping pool of wine. "I assume you're here for a purpose other than tormenting me," he says, though there's little heat to the words.

Now that he's disarmed, Isabela crosses the room in the blink of an eye and presses her lips to his. The boy has improved since the Pearl. She nips his lower lip and presses her breasts full against his chest, and is both intrigued and disappointed when he steps back.

"No," he says, but it's kind.

Isabela rolls her eyes. "She's got you well-trained." She starts for the door, and pauses to glance back over her shoulder. "In more ways than one. It's good to see you again, Alistair."

She leaves him spluttering behind her, and hums to herself as she climbs back down the walls. She ought to make time to visit Ferelden sometime soon, see if the Queen has likewise improved her already excellent skills.

Oh, you're making me rethink this pairing.

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Page 6 of 17

Dragon Age Kiss Battle: 2013 Edition

Two Men (Aveline/Donnic, Aveline/Wesley)

Re: Two Men (Aveline/Donnic, Aveline/Wesley)

Re: Sebastian/Bethany, G

Dog/Ser Pounce-a-Lot, G

Re: Dog/Ser Pounce-a-Lot, G

Re: Dog/Ser Pounce-a-Lot, G

A Final Goodbye: Wynne/Greagoir - PG

Re: A Final Goodbye: Wynne/Greagoir - PG

Mahariel/Isabela

The Birthday Gift: Alistair/f!Warden - G

F!Warden/Alistair (Mahariel preferred)

Re: Seeing Stars, Alistair/F!Amell, T

Re: The Birthday Gift: Alistair/f!Warden - G

Re: Someone Else's Passion, Morrigan/Alistair, T (mini-fill)

Re: A Final Goodbye: Wynne/Greagoir - PG

Re: Dog/Ser Pounce-a-Lot, G

Re: The Birthday Gift: Alistair/f!Warden - G

f!Warden/Alistair

Isabela/Merrill

Re: Dog/Ser Pounce-a-Lot, G

Re: A New Man - Isabela/Sebastian, PG

Re: Cullen/F!Amell or Surana - T/PG-13 for language

Hawke and/or Companions

The More Things Change, Isabela/Alistair/(f!Cousland)

Re: The Leaving (m!Mahariel/Merrill, G)