Deku Arm Scars Novels & Stories

The laughter faded slowly, leaving something softer behind it, something neither of them tried to name. "I should let you sleep," Arsen said eventually, standing and gathering both empty bowls. "Arsen." He paused. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For this." He didn't answer. He only gave a small nod and turned toward the sink, and as he did, the loose collar of his shirt shifted just enough for Sera to catch sight of his back. Her breath caught. Pale, raised scars crossed his shoulder blades in jagged lines, deep enough to have required stitches once, long enough ago that they had faded to silver against his skin. They weren't the clean, round marks of bullet wounds. She had seen enough of th

All four of them had been horrible to me throughout middle and high school, all while Atlas stood by silently, that insufferable look of indifference on his face. Duke Kentworth had been through some changes of his own. His hair was still the shade of midnight, unruly as it sat on his head, but now grazed the nape of his neck. Duke had always been large, built like a linebacker. He lost some of the roundness in his face, his jawline jutting out in sharp angles. What truly captured my attention was the scar running down his cheek. It was a light shade of pink, slightly raised as though it had just healed. While werewolves healed fast, we were still able to scar just as a human would. Instead

She smirks and shrugs, “Yeah, well it gets worse. A lot worse. But I’ll save that for now, no offence to you, Seb, but I’m far too pissed to be careful with my words.” He nods, still feeling queasy. It gets worse? She sighs and pulls off her jumper, revealing a black cropped tank top and an intricate web of silver scars, all over her arms, chest and stomach. It looks like they cover most of her body. He can’t help his jaw going slack as he stares at her skin. She smiles sadly,

“I need some time. Something has changed.” “There is no more time.” Matheson says sadly. “Your bear is out of control.” “You fucked up my chest.” The big guy with the tattooed sleeves shouts as he gets off the bike. He takes up his shirt, revealing four fresh pink scars running across his chest that look like bear claws. “This is permanent! You cut me to the bone.” “It wasn't me.” Armel says with a sigh. “It was my bear.” “Same shit.” Says the big guy with vengeance in his eyes.

He let out a soft low sigh, as he rolled up the sleeves of his cloth, displaying his well built muscles and veins of his right arm. A small scar– like the shape of a crescent, resided on his biceps, comfortably. He had gotten the scar when he was young and he remembered crying a lot as a result of that. The wound couldn't heal because his wolf powers were still dormant at that time and the wound was from a knife covered with poison from a moon cursed flower which prevent wounds from healing, resulting in a scar. Once, just beside the scar, a name which was written with permanent ink stood beside the scar like a protector, but all that was left of it now was fade which won't be noticeable unl

Her skin is so soft. I notice the slight bruise on her arm so I raised the sleeve of her shirt and see a bruise that looks like hand prints. I slowly pull her towards me and lift up the back of her shirt and see an almost faded bruise line a quarter way up her back. I see gashes that have almost healed and scars from others. Normally wolves don’t have scars unless it’s an extremely deep cut or it was made with silver or wolfsbane. I pull her shirt back down and just hug her to me. How could someone allow this to happen to a young girl? Let alone my mate?

"I'm sorry again. That was the worst part. Now, are you hurt anywhere else? We don't have much time left before Master gets here." I looked down and carefully brought up my arm with the engravings on it. I had been avoiding looking at the words ever since the Valentine put them there. Looking now, I saw that my skin was inflamed and full of blisters. The skin looked as if it was about to fall off my arm. Despite the redness and blisters, you could still clearly see Slut marked across my forearm. The girl looked at my arm with sad eyes. "I'm so sorry, Cheska."

he asked with a grin on his face. “The Prince is born with a thick black scar on his right thigh and a small red dot behind his right ear”, she continued. Dakar froze after hearing that, and the smile on his face turned into a deep frown. He had a terrible scar on his thigh. It was as black as coal and covered nearly all of his right thigh. And behind his ear, was a small dot, the size of a drop of water and it was pure red. He was born with them both.

I shuddered at the thought of why such facilities would be needed inside the pack dungeon. I could feel Alpha Julius’ eyes on my back as he stalked behind me. I knew what he was looking at, clusters of raised scars littering my skin from the nape of my neck to the base of my spine. Werewolves were quick healers, the only time we were left with scars was if the wound was made using silver or if it was life threatening. It was rare to see a wolf with any kind of mark on their body, unless perhaps they were a warrior. Regardless if my scars piqued his interest or not, he didn’t say anything, maintaining his stern and emotionless exterior.

I guess she did not want to see the lifetime reminder I had of my childhood. “Do not fret about it Alma. Everything I went through only made me stronger, and in truth I am a better Luna because of it. Unlike some children that were fed with a silver spoon, I know what it means to work.” I wanted Melissa to hear my words. It has been so long since anyone other than Caleb has seen me nude that I had forgotten about the scars. Being a wolf means that we heal quickly, so it is unusual for us to have scars. When I wound is inflicted upon a child that has never shifted though, and that child receives no medical attention then yes, a scar may form. I had several small scars on my body, but my lower