Itadori Scars Novels & Stories

Like I have two dimples when I smile while Emily has two but one is not that deep. I have a small birthmark just above my navel, which Emily doesn't have. When I went out two days ago to meet up with Maddie at Starbucks, people were congratulating me on my wedding. I was too embarrassed to say I'm not the one getting married but my twin. Nobody will believe me, anyway. So I thanked them and smiled politely at them. At the mall, when we went shopping for wedding gifts, someone congratulated me, and I told him I wasn't the one he never believed me.

The scar is a container and a protective space where the memory can be stored and endured privately. The causes of scars remain in storage in the body and the mind, and sometimes can shape actions for a person’s entire life. That's what Beneath The Scars is going to talk about . It's going to talk about how to never give up without a fight. W A R N I N G The book contains scenes of self-harm, mentions of abuse and suicide, themes of grief and depression, and sexual content towards the first half of the book . Readers are requested to proceed with caution. Please skip if you see any scene that you may find triggering.

He complimented, Anita sucked in a breath then released it slowly. “Thank you.” She answered without looking at him, he looked at her and his eyes landed on the scar made by the warrior’s claws. His heart broke at the sight, this scar meant that he removed a lot of flesh on her that day. “Am sorry, for everything.” He apologized sincerely to her, she sighed then turned to look at him, she saw the pain in his eyes and her heart went out to him. “It wasn’t your fault.” She told him, that did not put his heart at ease though.

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.

“Sit or I'll make you.” I smile, knowing not to test his threat because he would follow through and carefully walk over, trying not to wince in pain as every step felt like I was stepping on glass. Sitting down, Scar kneels in front of me, carefully lifting one of my feet up, takes out a small knife and slices his palm and rubs the blood over my wounds. Using his healing blood magic it soaks into my skin, the cuts and blisters slowly fading away until they disappear completely. Returning my foot back to the soft pale slightly pink color. Picking up the other foot he repeats the process, healing it back to its healthy state. I sigh in relief as the stinging pain subsides until the pain is co

Draven looked surprised, a grave expression on his face "I wouldn't be surprised. Did you notice how she was quick to correct me when I mistook Luna Ashena for her mother? It didn't seem like she had a good relationship with her." "It's no wonder she's so frail and weak" Dariussborted. These scars on her back were numerous; of different sizes. It was like they bore the haunting image of her past abuse. Lines of faded scars crisscrossed her flesh like a map of torment, each scar, a stark reminder of the cruelty she had ensured. 'Dante. Where are you?' Using my mind link, I contacted Dante, and in seconds, he was standing before us. I hand him the contract.

Then the black tee. Elena watched, mesmerized. Without the suit or the hoodie, the full extent of his ink was visible. A massive vulture was tattooed across his back, its wings stretching to his shoulders. Scars—some from blades, some from bullets—marred his bronze skin like a map of a violent life. "You're staring again, sweetheart," Julian said, stepping toward her. He looked like a pagan god of war. "I've never seen so much of you," she whispered.

Their awakening was more than a mere shift in power; it was a metamorphosis of body, mind, and spirit. The physical changes were immediate. Their hair gleamed as though one was woven with strands of moonlight in her midnight hair and the other strands of night in her shimmering silver hair, their skin softened with an ethereal glow, yet it was not flawless. Katia, my fierce warrior, bore the proof of her past upon her flesh. Some scars faded, dissolving as though never there, but others—testaments to battles fought and pain endured—remained. The mark on her face, the deep etchings along her torso, whispered of her resilience. I could have erased them all, but scars tell stories, and hers is

Isadora’s POV I stared at my reflection, brush in hand. The woman who looked back at me wasn’t the same girl who’d signed a contract for security and silence. She was stronger. Sharper. And despite everything… Still standing. I touched the scar beneath my collarbone — faint now, but real. The price of a panic attack turned into a fall six weeks ago. I’d hidden it from Darren. Now I let my fingers rest there. I wasn’t made of glass. I was made of cracks. And somehow, I was still whole.

Isak groaned as he kissed down my stomach, his fingers already busy with my jeans. “I don’t know about that.” I blushed as he kissed the claw mark scar on my right side. “It was training, and I didn’t let Mikali heal me. I’m human…a hunter… scars are normal.” I explained, feeling his eyes on me as he traced the scar. “I hope the wolf that dared to mar your skin suffered worse.” Isak’s voice was harsh despite his soft kisses over the scar. “Yes,” I assured him… or maybe that was just a moan as I raised my hips to help him pull my jeans and underwear off.