Tyrion Scar Novels & Stories

“You can't go down with your eyes watery that way. Comport yourself before you step down….. I will wait till you put yourself together.” I exhaled a deep breath and wiped my face with my scarf. On doing that, I recalled that Tyrion had given back to me two scarves on that day he healed me in the school, and one of them was at home. “How did he get it? I lost it in that resort where I had a one-night stand." I contemplated. At that point, my heart was being freed. “I can't ask him, but it seems somehow that he brought it to me. Did he rent the room, find it there, and bring it to me because he saw me with another type of it?”

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.

"Didn't know she would murder my parents? Didn't know she would steal my entire legacy? Or didn't know she would humiliate me in front of the world?" Clark was speechless. "Or," I continued, "did you know all along and just chose to look the other way?" "No! I really didn't know—" "Then what about this?" I turned my back to him and unfastened the top of my tunic. A gruesome scar ran from my left shoulder to my right hip. The eclipse curse had turned it a sickly silver-black, and it still seemed to writhe slowly, eating away at my life force. Clark's breath hitched.

She stood up from his embrace and straightened herself. "Omar? Yes I..." She paused to clear her throat then she noticed that his silver white outfit had been stained red, placing a palm on his chest, she felt his accelerated heart beat and his rasped breathing and swiftly withdrew her hand. She shivered when realization dawned on her and she took a step back. "Omar...?" She searched his eyes and pointed to his clothes. "What is that? Is that... blood on you?" "Blood?!" Saadiya and Parvina chorused and rushed forward, stopping just behind Mariam and their eyes widened when they saw the huge stain.

She's letting him use her all over again. "It's the prettiest scar I've ever seen," Aemon commented while wiping her scar on her waist with an ointment. Lily was smiling on her scar while looking at it in the mirror. Do you know what makes it beautiful? It was a heart shaped scar. "I know," she uttered. The scars on her palm were awful though. She has been putting on an ointment to erase it. "I didn't know that Grandma was busy opening her new restaurant business," she mentioned.

Tyler said, his voice deeper than it had been since I’d last seen him. Last time I had seen him, he had been skinnier than the other guys, his skin free of any ink or scars and his dark brown hair cut short. But now, tattoos covered his pale skin from head to toe, his hair was messy on top of his head, and he had a large scar that cut straight through his left eyebrow down to his mid-cheek. “Not expecting to find my ex-boyfriend,” I said through gritted teeth. He stepped closer to me, his eyes darkening the way all incubi eyes did right after they had too much to drink and wanted someone right then and there. But I wasn’t falling for that shit anymore.

The first man finished and stepped aside so the second could come forth. "Being a merchant has me traveling to different cities, my lords. This man over here who claims to be Finlay isn't. I do not know if he had a change of face through the sorcerers outside of Easton, but a year ago, I saw him in the slums of Hightower, he visited the tattooist shop and came out with a red scorpion inked to his back. At first, I marveled at the sight of him having the same face as our late Alpha, so I trailed after him until he went into the tattooist shop and came out with the same tattoo as our late Alpha. It turned out no one knew who he was," the second man known as Tyrion concluded breathlessly with h

“You’re his target as much as anyone else.” Scar’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. Instead, his shoulders sagged, the weight of my words sinking in. He looked down, his hand brushing over the scar that ran across his cheek—a mark of battles past, a reminder of his vulnerability. “If what you’re saying is true,” he said finally, his voice low, “why should I trust you? You stormed into my kingdom, attacked my men—”

“No. This is weird enough without you looking at my body like some puzzle.” “Soren,” he said, stepping closer. His voice dropped. “I need to see it. Please.” The please caught me off guard. I backed up until my legs hit the bed. “Why? It is just a scar from when I was a kid. Fell on some rocks or something. I do not even remember exactly.” Rhydian ran a hand down his face. “Elio had a scar in the exact same spot. From a fight years ago. Same shape, same place. Show me or I will check myself.”

A smile of a devil. He hold out a hand and then reached for her face. He caresses her small pale face with his big palm and long fingers. He touched and tapped her cheek gently with his thumb. It was cold. Her face was cold and she was close to having frostbite. He frowned at the texture. It was unpleasant to touch. His thumb went to her lips next. He rubbed it and instead of feeling the soft, delicate, and plump feeling he always felt before, his thumb felt a whole different texture. It was rough as sandpaper but as his finger wandered, he touched a sticky liquid.