Novel & Cerita Dabi Scars Full Body

The jacket she was wearing was also open, and several buttons of her inner shirt had come undone, revealing her fair and smooth stomach. Her abdomen was slender and flat. Under the soft light, her skin seemed to emit a sparkling milky white glow. Dave narrowed his eyes, looking coldly at her exposed stomach, where several rather long and obvious scars were clearly visible. The scars looked like rough stitches, resembling ugly marks crawling on her skin. These scars completely ruined the beauty of her body, making her smooth stomach look somewhat terrifying and unsightly.

In the end, Damien gave in, utterly defeated. He decided to personally cleanse my body, the last act he could perform for me as my Vow-mate. In the small cottage, as he tremblingly undid the first button of my dress, Damien froze. My body was covered in a tapestry of old and new wounds. There were burns from hunter attacks, silvery scars that told the story of countless ambushes orchestrated by Isabella. There were scars from the vervain poisoning, deep purple marks snaking across my ribs like serpents.

Darren. I couldn't look away. His body was a sculpture - muscles smooth and hard, lines so perfect they seemed carved by a cruel hand. Scars slashed across his back, faint but jagged, like cracks in marble. They whispered of time, of a life chewed up and spat out in the human world. I'd seen Lucas bare, his lean frame a comfort I'd memorized, but this - this was different. Dangerous. Yesterday, in his leather jacket, I'd guessed at the power beneath. Now, shirtless and real, he stole the air from my lungs.

The beta youths surrounding Wade and Danielle howled in their usual fawning manner. “I want to go first!” Danielle growled, shape shifting fast. Scar sighed, steeling himself. This was the hard part where they tried to add more scars to the ones which had already taken over all of his body. Slowly and steadily over space of sixteen years they had covered every inch of skin on his body with claw marks like a tattoo. It had started with Wade’s elder brother Roc who was more of his age-mate, but when Roc and his friends outgrew it, Wade and his lackey had taken over.

Mia felt like she couldn't breathe and at the same time, she felt flooded with too much breath in her lungs. Dalian was naked, his well-ripped and tanned body in full view, and Mia drank him in, her eyes raking over his body. This was the first time she had seen his back, and she could it was littered with tiny scars, some white and long, some a bit red and tiny. He bent to get his boxers on and her eyes dropped to his round, firm ass, and she could see his ball sac. She bit her bottom lip, her hand going with its own mind to touch herself from her clothes.

Her gasp echoed through the silence of the room as she beheld the gruesome scars etched across her chest, disappearing beneath the shadows of her nightgown. Amani's trembling hands moved instinctively, hastily discarding the nightgown to reveal her scar-ridden body in all its disfigured glory. She stood there, vulnerable and exposed, as she stared at her own reflection in horror. Her chest and torso bore a multitude of intersecting scars, a painful reminder of the brutal attack she had endured.

The fabric joined Damian's on the floor. They stood there, bare-chested, the city lights painting their skin gold and silver. Sebastian's left shoulder was still marked—the pink scar from the bullet graze, the newer marks from the cheap shot in the game. Damian's body was a map of older wounds—the ribs his father had broken, the burns, the cuts. "You're beautiful," Sebastian said. "I'm scarred." "You're beautiful." Sebastian kissed Damian's shoulder. The scar there—a cigarette burn, small and round. He kissed it like he was trying to erase it. Then he kissed Damian's chest, his stomach, the line of hair below his navel.

“Who knows? Maybe this stupid girl is dabbling in sorcery!” “Umbriel, you know if your claims turn out false, you’ll face punishment too, right?” Abraham said as he lifted a goblet and drank. That’s when I noticed it. His body, barely hidden beneath his robes, was traced with dark patterns. I could have said a tattoo but it doesn't look like it. As he moved, stepping down from the dais, the torchlight caught them. Scars. Every line of his flesh carved and burned, filled with something black that shimmered like ash pressed into old wounds. My stomach tightened, those weren’t tattoos, they were marks of burn.

"It bled and tore and rebuilt itself. It survived rejection and crawling three miles while hemorrhaging. Your body is a battlefield, Alisha. Not a betrayal." "Easy for you to say." "Is it?" Diana yanked her shirt over her head. She turned around. Her back was covered in scars, long, raised lines crisscrossing her spine. "Rogue attack when I was sixteen. Nearly died." She faced me again, pointing to her stomach. A surgical scar ran from the sternum to the navel. "Emergency surgery. They said I'd never fight again." She pulled her shirt back on. "Every scar tells a story. Your stretch marks? Battle scars. Your softer stomach? Proof you built a home for your babies when their father threw you a

He bore a network of scars that only added to his rugged charm. The most prominent scar ran across his abdomen. It resembled a dried-up centipede clinging to his waist. It completely captured Rebecca's attention. "Have you seen enough?" David looked at the stunned Rebecca, who was standing at the doorway in a daze. He didn't hide or shy away from her gaze. In response to his words, Rebecca looked up and unconsciously took a step forward. "H-how … how did you get your scars?" David followed her line of sight down to the winding scar on his waist and abdomen.