Deku Arm Scars Novels & Stories

Only I know how these looks of pity feel . No one knows....you may call scars beautiful but you know the one who actually has them. Knows deep somewhere in their heart, how ugly they look. Something which was so perfect, something so flawless that every one envied it. Was now just an object of pity. The skin which was perfect once, is tarnished now. And you know the worst part? No matter what you do. It will never....be like it was before. What's lost can never return. Sulking ,she didn't realised when the sun was down from the horizon and it was dark.

“You said I could try anything. Is it a lie?” Archer’s turquoise eyes almost turned green with a turmoil, “No. But I’d suggest you slow down.” “OK.” The look in his eyes was unfamiliar, so Elena decided to accept his suggestion to avoid any danger. She embedded herself in his embrace with a hand climbing up his thick shoulder, and looked over it. There was a long scar on his back. “What is it?” She scratched the scar slightly with her nail. Archer closed his eyes, tasting the sweet pain. “A battle’s mark.”

He looks into the rearview mirror and asks, "Okay, ladies, where are we going first?" Jade sits forward a bit and says, "I think we will go to the day spa first..." I tense at the sound of that as no one other than Zachariah has seen or knows how bad the scars are that now pattern my skin both on my back and my abdomen, even after the healing cream Valentino's servants were using and then whatever Zachariah had his doctor or healer do they could not stop my skin from scaring. I move slightly closer to Jade and place my hand on her arm and whisper,

He wouldn’t let me have a good look at him, but now I could freely watch. His whole body was lean, steely muscle. I could even say he was skinny, I thought as he ran his hand through his hair and I could count his ribs as he raised his arm. Not even an ounce of fat, I remarked as I watched him go to the bathroom. I found him incredibly sexy, but I couldn’t help but wonder about his scars. As he stood, I could see that his whole back was covered with them, some even reaching his butt. They looked like whipping marks, but that didn’t make sense. It was painful for sure, but a werewolf, not to mention a strong one like him, should heal without any problem, leaving no trace behind.

She took a minute to grace her eyes with his outstanding face side profile. His ivy league with a deep side part haircut matched perfectly well with his neatly shaved golden brown 3-day stubble beard. Right above his beard was a horizontal mild scar of about one inch. “How did he get that scar?” She thought as she shifted her gaze down to his torso. The white long sleeve shirt he wore was a bit free on his body, so she wasn't able to see features of his torso. She looked at his arm and saw he rolled up his sleeve to his elbow joint. His spotlessly clean forearm was adorned with his veins, making it look attractive. As he gripped and rolled the steering, more veins popped out of his forearm.

He just hummed in response. I looked around and could feel Koa “snapping pictures” for lack of better term at the moment. There had to be at least 100 people up here. We were walking up to one of the warriors who had scars all over his body. For a wolf to have scars, they had to of been wounded horribly to the brink of death, that their wolf couldn’t heal them fast enough. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what this warrior had been through to be a lycan and have all those scars.

"Pack tattoos, brands, anything." Silas didn't hesitate. He took his hunting knife and slit the intruder’s left sleeve from cuff to collar in one sharp, upward pull. The fabric parted, revealing a forearm scarred by burns and blade-nicks, but near the inside crook of his elbow, the skin was raised in thick, keloid ridges. Silas tore back the man's sleeve, and beneath it, faint but unmistakable, was a scar in the shape of a broken claw. The mark was ancient. The skin had been burned twice to ensure the jagged fracture across the center of the three-talon design remained raised, pale against his weathered skin.

Luke dropped his eyes, saw the thick bandage covering the entire left side of her chest, gazed at the exposed right side. She was totally flat; nothing of her breast remained at all and Luke assumed it was the same on the other side. The dark scar was thick, far thicker than he’d thought it would be. It started near the center of her body and curved up and under her armpit. It looked like the letter ‘c’ turned over on its back; it looked like an open palm.

I watched, my eyes narrowing, as he held his arms out toward me. My breath hitched. His skin was ruined. From his wrists all the way up to his forearms, his flesh was covered in a frightening web of scars. There were deep, jagged lines, discolored patches, and dozens of circular puncture marks. They were injection scars, overlapping one another, telling a story of years of brutal, desperate experimentation.

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.