Despite the romanticism surrounding the emotion, it can be difficult to be loved completely — not just the beautiful parts of us, but also the sad parts, the injured parts, the hidden and less-than-pleasant parts. There are marks on us, both physical and mental, that we'd often rather forget. The mental ones can just be easier to hide. As for physical scars, they can be off of our minds some of the time, but that's exceedingly hard to do in more intimate, close moments.
Whether it's to your dismay or otherwise, your partner is not looking away and ignoring your scars. To the contrary, they're providing attention in a way most heavily associated with tenderness: kissing. It may be an accidental slip off target, or they may be trying to show you that what you've done and who you've been don't matter to them now.
Does the gesture touch you? Make the walls come up once again because of the memories that are dredged from somewhere you'd rather no go? A mixture of both?
The wound has long closed, yet the pains remains; these days, however, there's someone who may be willing to help you bear it.
Reply with the usual: canon, character, preferences, et al. You may also want to say if you're down for smut or not, since it's not a given.
Be sure to include what side you'd like your character to play. Mention if you can do both the kisser and the kissed.
Also, feel free to talk about your character's scars.
Her bed is more comfortable than the one he's been provided, and so she finds herself inviting him to share it more and more. He's good company on the colder nights, much more entertaining and chatty than additional blankets would be. Kore's finding ways to curl up against him without her arm falling asleep, learning the shape and feel of his body and how it fits against hers. Clothing optional, of course.
The pads of her fingertips roam over his chest, feeling the scars she's felt before. This time, however, she stops over one and looks at him curiously.
"I bet this one came from... a dragon," she smiles, quietly asking for him to tell her about it. "Or perhaps a bear? They've both got nasty claws and teeth."
Alistair likes spending his nights with Kore. Her room is warm, her mattress is soft, and she always seems happiest just before she falls asleep, like lying there and talking about nothing in particular brings her mood up. And he'd believe it if it did--he remembers how exhausting the Blight was, and he doubts Corypheus is any better.
It's nice to be useful, especially when being useful coincides with being comfortable and happy himself.
So he curls up with her and lets her stroke over his many scars, a strange sensation over the deadened skin. He can only slightly feel some of them, and others, he can't feel at all. "Wolf, actually. Also pretty nasty when they get a paw in you."
It's also nice to simply dote on someone. There aren't any reservations here, no hesitation as she leans into press her lips against his wolf-scar, soft and lingering.
"And this one?" Her thumb brushes over another, lips following to leave another kiss.
He'll never say no to being doted upon. The way Kore kisses his shoulder is gentle and fond, and though the sensation is dulled, the gesture isn't. Her fascination with his scars isn't something he entirely understands, but he finds the ridges and dips of her body appealing--so maybe he does understand it, just not in context of his own skin.
"Hurlock," he says. It's one of the older ones, one he'd had to keep an eye on carefully as it healed. "We were in the Deep Roads--about as far in as you get if you aren't going on your Calling. The hurlock had a really pointy sword."
He's a warrior, one far more experienced than she is. She has her own fair share of scars and marks, but she knows the story behind all of hers. His? They're little mysteries.
For the most part.
Her fingers slide down to his side. There is where her touch becomes lighter, more careful, as she passes her fingers over the scar she does know the story behind.
"I hope you've learned to stay away from pointy swords. The pointy parts of them, at least," she teases, because if she doesn't her mouth will curve into a frown at the mention of the Calling and thoughts of their adventure in the Fade. "You've got enough holes."
They're mysteries he's happy to share--and Maker knows it'll take a while, considering just how many he has these days. The parts of him that show when he's fully dressed are mostly free of scarring, but beneath his armor, there are all kinds of pale little lines and ridges of knotty scar tissue.
He takes in a sharp little breath when she moves over a newer scar, the one that comes from the Fade. It doesn't hurt anymore, for the most part, but the skin there still seems new and sensitive compared to other parts of his body, and her delicate touch is still noticeable.
"I could say the same about you." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Don't worry about me--it takes more than a hole or two to bring me down."
That breath gets her to move her hand away, resting it on his stomach instead, a safe distance from the scar. A few holes he may be able to take, but perhaps not the scarring after when his lover decides to touch. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine." Kore could probably hurt him if she tried, but accidentally? Alistair doubts it. She hasn't managed it yet. He reaches for her hand and moves it back to that scar, the flesh still pink and shiny beneath her fingers. "See? Nothing to worry about."
"It wasn't that bad, you know," he tells her, letting his hand slide down her back this time. "Better than I expected to walk away from the Fade with."
Alistair hums a little in response to her tongue--that, he can definitely feel. The moisture, the bit of warmth, the way the open air feels colder after, it's all there.
"I'll see what I can do." He shrugs. "I fight scary things for a living, though. I can't make promises."
"You have a bit of a responsibility to me now," she smiles up at him before once more running her tongue over a scar. "I suppose I can settle for you always coming back to me. And I'll try to do the same."
"You knew I was a warden when you met me. I seem to remember you sneaking into my cave." Alistair laughs. "Scars are part of the business. You know that."
"Even then, I thought you were pretty," he tells her, ruffling her hair. The scar she's on now really is from a dragon this time, specifically Mythal. "I was just busy keeping my cave safe."
"I was a little too awed meeting the famous Alistair to notice how attractive you are. Once we were out in the sun, however..." He'd been very, very handsome.
"And the you-know-whats didn't help," he adds, laughing a little. See, sometimes he can be sensitive to her terrible fear of spiders. They really ought to make caves without them--they don't add much except creepiness and a terrible way to end up with venom-edged holes in your papers. "But you got into the sun and saw how devastatingly attractive I was."
That earns him a tiny nip from her teeth. "Devastatingly, painfully attractive. I just can't-stop-kissing-you," she says, kissing along to his shoulder with each word. "Scars and all. I'm going to memorize the stories behind all of them, one day. Just you wait and see."
Alistair laughs again, pulling Kore atop him. "You want to memorize all of them? We've got work to do." Work he won't mind at all, honestly. He gestures vaguely at himself, raising a brow. "Where do you want to start?"
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The pads of her fingertips roam over his chest, feeling the scars she's felt before. This time, however, she stops over one and looks at him curiously.
"I bet this one came from... a dragon," she smiles, quietly asking for him to tell her about it. "Or perhaps a bear? They've both got nasty claws and teeth."
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It's nice to be useful, especially when being useful coincides with being comfortable and happy himself.
So he curls up with her and lets her stroke over his many scars, a strange sensation over the deadened skin. He can only slightly feel some of them, and others, he can't feel at all. "Wolf, actually. Also pretty nasty when they get a paw in you."
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"And this one?" Her thumb brushes over another, lips following to leave another kiss.
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"Hurlock," he says. It's one of the older ones, one he'd had to keep an eye on carefully as it healed. "We were in the Deep Roads--about as far in as you get if you aren't going on your Calling. The hurlock had a really pointy sword."
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For the most part.
Her fingers slide down to his side. There is where her touch becomes lighter, more careful, as she passes her fingers over the scar she does know the story behind.
"I hope you've learned to stay away from pointy swords. The pointy parts of them, at least," she teases, because if she doesn't her mouth will curve into a frown at the mention of the Calling and thoughts of their adventure in the Fade. "You've got enough holes."
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He takes in a sharp little breath when she moves over a newer scar, the one that comes from the Fade. It doesn't hurt anymore, for the most part, but the skin there still seems new and sensitive compared to other parts of his body, and her delicate touch is still noticeable.
"I could say the same about you." He raises an eyebrow at her. "Don't worry about me--it takes more than a hole or two to bring me down."
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She's a worrier. He may have noticed that by now.
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"No more scars while we're together."
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"I'll see what I can do." He shrugs. "I fight scary things for a living, though. I can't make promises."
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"I didn't love you then. Hard to say it was love at first sight when you pointed a sword at me."
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"I was a little too awed meeting the famous Alistair to notice how attractive you are. Once we were out in the sun, however..." He'd been very, very handsome.
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"Tell me about a scar, and I'll find it." With her mouth, naturally. "I learn better that way."
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