Joker Scars Novels & Stories

Chapter 2 “Thank you” he said lifting her hands to brush his lips in an airy kiss, whilst studying her face. She had amazing hazel green eyes, he imagined drowning in them but as he looked deeply into them, he saw something sad lurking behind them, she seemed to have hidden them quite well and Richard had a sinking feeling that she hide it even from herself, someone had hurt her badly and she pretended to not feel the pain, Richard felt his hands fist up and realized that he actually wanted to strangle that person and hurt him even worse than the way he had hurt this woman.

No listening ears for the conversation that was about to happen. I pound on the door using the side of my hand and forearm, warning Joker I wasn’t here for small talk. Joker answered the doorway shirtless, his torso covered in tattoos and old scars. He wiped the sleep from his eyes; seems that I had woken him from slumber. “Can this not wait?” Joker looked so tense, the look of a man that needed to get laid. I knew the look all too well at the moment, which further pissed me off.

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

“It’s – well. Some of it’s really bad. But you must know that, right?” Ace thought about the beatings that had gone on for hours; the crunch of lower leg bone; the knife carving out his left eye; the razors cutting the skin off his chest. Joker had insisted on removing his Fallen Angels tattoo personally, claiming that a cock-sucking traitor had no right to have it on his body any longer, and Ace still wasn’t sure if Joker had been more outraged by his disloyalty to the club, or his homosexuality.

I never liked people getting too close to me. It might have been my survival instincts and trust issues, but I'm used to people being cruel. With both my parents gone, years of surviving as a lone wolf taught me to expect only the worst in humans. Kindness isn't something I see every day. Scar watches me as I wrap up the cuts around my hand with a white cloth. As his name says, he has quite a glaring scar that runs from his left eye to the side of his jaw. His bare chest shows numerous tattoos and battle marks. A leather belt hangs on his waist, securing a pair of cargo pants.

Jace whimpers and coughs, blood spilling from his mouth as he squirms on the floor. “Stop!” I choke on my breath. “Jace…” “Don’t pity them, Tabitha. They don’t deserve it. See this?” Mario lifts his shirt and reveals a massive scar carved into the side of his stomach. It looks like a bite taken straight out of him. “I got this more than twenty years ago,” he explains. “From Emery Aldair himself. He went berserk during the full moon after his twenty-fourth birthday.” “W-What? I don’t understand,” I whisper.

The one thing, however, that stood out was the jagged scar on his face. From the top of his left eyebrow, slicing into his eyelid, and all the way down to his top lip was a claw mark. The skin was a darker pink and rippled around the scar, despite having years of healing. The line was rough, probably due to him struggling when he received it. I couldn't help but flinch as I fully digested the man in front of me.

Jace’s eyes immediately found Lorenzo and stilled. He looked almost exactly as Jace remembered: handsome, sharp features that belonged on the cover of magazines rather than in the underworld. His jawline was cut from stone, his dark eyes glinted with danger and allure. But now, a scar ran down his face, from his forehead across his eye to the edge of his cheek. It looked like someone had once tried to carve him open. Instead of marring him, it gave him a dangerous and commanding appeal. “Bunny,” Lorenzo smirked, his voice smooth as silk as he waved his hand. The two men at his sides obeyed immediately, stepping out and leaving them alone. Jace’s gaze caught the gleam of metal tucked at their

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.

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.