Scars Joker Novels & Stories

"No, I don't think he needs anyone else as his partner, nor do I think you are any less deserving of him. Did you know Lexie, that not too long ago, scars were highly prized in our community?" I just blinked at him, and fortunately enough, he continued without waiting for my answer. "Scars are not just a sign of a life well- lived, but one's scars show that this person is a survivor. That they are stronger than whatever life could throw at them. So don't you ever think that the scars you carry because of your past make you any less worthy, instead, they indicate that you should be celebrated even more!

“My brothers are going to GUT you!” I swear, boys are born with a defective self-preservation chip. Death or glory. No in-between. Harry’s mouth twists into a grotesque, Joker-like smile. The scars on his face pull tight, distorting the expression into something almost inhuman. He turns toward the door. Opens it. Pauses. Glances back at Luke. He chuckles softly and makes a slow, mocking tsk-tsk-tsk sound with his tongue. “I wouldn’t count on it, little Garcia,” he murmurs.

Damn. My ending isn’t as great as I hoped it would be. It was a painful ending. I imagined it would be different but it’s not. I silently prayed to God. I never prayed to him. I never communicated with him. Now, I needed him to save me. I am a joke. A clown. Only talk to someone whenever I need them and would abandon them when I don’t need them anymore. Maybe, I deserved this cruel ending. There’s a lot of people around me. A lot of people were concerned about this tragedy. The tragedy that scarred me physically, mentally and emotionally. It also scarred my life.

“Oh, wow. That’s so crazy. Gosh, my head hurts already. I don’t want to think about anything.” “It’s okay, I understand,” June nodded. “I’m sure the reason he kidnapped Luke was because he knew Luke knew everything you knew.” Elena sighed. “He’ll be fine, right?” “I’m sorry. I can’t promise you anything,” June replied, her gaze shifting from Elena. “Conor is scarier than you could ever imagine. He has no human feelings whatsoever. I mean, look at us, both tied up here without even knowing where or-” “Shh,” Elena cut June off. “I hear footsteps.”

When the shirtless man grew closer, Gregg could see two large lightning bolt tattoos on each side of the man’s six-pack abdomen. Gregg could now see the dark figure. It was a man with white makeup on his face, along with what appeared to be black eyeshadow. The man had his pitch-black long hair tied up into a ponytail, and it looked like he had blood painted across his broad shoulders. The white makeup made the man look like Jared Leto’s Joker from the Snyder Cut Justice League. Gregg felt helpless while looking up at this shirtless, sweaty mass of raw muscle who was towering over him, holding a shiny long antique battle-ax in his left hand. Gregg recognized the man’s face through the white

“I can’t judge her for that.” “Hell none of us could. You and I have been where she was… We have the damn scars to prove it.The difference is that we weren’t stuck there for five years.” Joker sighed. “Now, I’m a little crazy from my time and you’re a goddamn hard ass and that has been our lot in life. But her…. She seems to have gotten a double dose of both.”

She jerked the door open, and Scars grinned down at her, all sexy-hot muscles and devastating charm. He was wearing well-worn jeans, a tight blue t-shirt that made his eyes stand out in that hard, scarred face even more, a jean jacket, and his Road Devils cut on top. In one hand, he held a large pizza box; she saw a bottle-shaped paper bag tucked under his arm. He was so achingly huge and strong, and the way he just towered over her in her bare feet made Zoe feel impossibly feminine and fragile.

“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.

Yeah, Scars was a tough son-of-a-bitch, a dangerous man, a former one-percenter who’d done some pretty bad shit – and as an individual very much like that himself, King had eternal respect for him, and saw Scars’ decent heart under the club cut, under the ferocious scowl. Scars nodded back, gave his attention to Tessa as she spoke to him. Tessa was so bubbly and charming, and very few guys were immune to her sweetness. Sure enough, Scars suddenly smiled, and as always, the sight of something so open and warm in that badly-scarred face pierced King somehow, hit him in places and ways that surprised him. “King?” Jax had appeared out of nowhere, and now stood next to him. King jumped, surprised

There, the Joker frowned and tears streamed down his face. “This is you.” Rhett put the card in his hand. “You’re a fucking joker. You know that, right?” Jax turned the card over and took in the sleek design. It was thick and more of a lightweight metal that was so thin it mimicked paper. “What’s does a joker symbolize?” he asked. “You know I’m not a card player like you.”