X Scars Novels & Stories

The girl in the mirror standing opposite me was a girl broken and recombined with the improper pieces. "Pathetic," I muttered to myself. And I grinned. Cold, empty thing that it was, with no regard for the girl that once was me. Because what I discovered, Jake and Cassandra didn't kill me. Victoria didn't, either. They just provided justification for waking the hell up. I removed my makeup and cotton brushes wiped away like discarding the old me. I looked again and caught sight of something new in my eyes. Peace of anger. Hunger. "No more tears," I told myself. "Time they're sorry for all of this."

"This place is all girly and it nauseates me" I bursted into laughter at what he said, I just really like the fact that he manages to make me happy. He held my hand and took me out of the room taking me to his own room where I was before. We entered and he sat me on the bed, he walked towards his table and then came back holding a round white cream jar stuff. I stared at it. "Whats that?". "It can help you take away those marks on you and heal your scars". "Reece ..".

Sin Frostfire Solutions Carla stood before me in six-inch high stilettos, her pale face containing a bit of shine. Her lips were a deep red, complemented by the blood red dress she was wearing. As beautiful as she turned out in her vampiric form, I still couldn’t get my mind off how Scarlet was humping Jerk in the college grounds. Carla’s lips were moving as she gestured with her hands. But I wasn’t listening. Although I was elated to see her, it was difficult to erase the picture of Scarlet and another man in my mind. Even when I knew there was little I could do to change the situation.

However, as the shirt gradually pulled away, what Dean saw sent a shock through him. Chen’s back was covered in scars, large and small, each one bearing a strange and unsettling shape. Some looked like long, deep cuts, while others appeared as irregular burn marks. What struck Dean most was that these scars had been cleverly concealed beneath tattoos. During their previous intimate encounters, Dean had only vaguely brushed against these marks, never fully noticing them.

Intensifying my desire and causing me to throb with anticipation; my arousal growing even more intense and my longing becoming increasingly evident. ‘She is ready to mate with us!’ Spartacus urges. ‘No, she is not prepared to take us yet. We need her relaxed and stretched out. So we don't hurt her when we finally get to knot her.” I groan. As I explore every inch of her skin, I tenderly kiss and caress each of her scars, proving to her that they do not define her. Instead, they are a testament to her strength and resilience. With each gentle touch, I am reminding her that she is beautiful and worthy of love, regardless of what battles she has faced. These scars are a part of her story, and I

“What kind of scars?” She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “There are marks on her body that will never heal. Scars from beatings, from whips, from… other forms of torture. She’s been through so much pain that her wolf… it’s dormant, Xeros. It’s like it’s given up. It’s been so traumatized that it can’t even come forward to protect her anymore.”

N O T E A scar is the mark of a story that, on the surface, is private. It is an implication of what lies beneath and within. Complete scar removal is not possible, but most scars will gradually fade over time. Scars are a natural part of the healing process. Most will fade although they never completely disappear. At times, emotions and memories are stored so well that they can’t be recalled on command. Alternately, the psyche veils itself with trauma that has left its mark and overcompensates to dissociate from trauma. The scar is a container and a

As I was turning her over to dry the other side —I was starting to worry at how limp she’d gotten—I saw them. There were scars all over her back. There was a hideous X mark on her back like someone had used an X-Acto knife and carved it on her skin. Some scars looked like cigarette burns, and some were deep angry slashes. The X mark stood out more than the rest. It was ugly and deliberate. Someone had held her down and carved an X on her back to remind her she didn’t belong to herself and was basically cattle. Outrage bubbled up within me like lava in a volcano about to explode. “What the hell is this?”

Leaning forward, she almost stuck her head into the car and looked at him in confusion. Gabriel reached out and grasped her chin, turning her face from side to side. After a while, he exclaimed, "You look average, and you have acne scars. How on earth did Quentin fall for you?" Xyla was tongue-tied yet again, and her face paled. During her adolescence, she had a lot of acne that persisted for a long time. She had consulted numerous doctors, but none of their treatments worked. In desperation, she resorted to squeezing the pimples herself, leaving behind numerous acne scars.

he left the sentence for me to finish. "Celest." Xander's eyes widen and so does his father's. "Now she's some sort of witch thing." Xander's father growls and Xander sits next to me. I look in the mirror behind me and see my scar. It ran from my left shoulder to my right hip, the black stitches holding it together. Tears fill the rims of my eyes but I wipe them away. This was going to be worse than I thought.