X Scars Novels & Stories

My skin, luminous and as pale as the moon. His fingers skim my collarbone, leaving a flutter of sparks as he moves my hair to hang down my back. I see it. two black puncture scars with beautiful and intricate black vines, with flowers and what looks like ivy leaves. It trails from the punctures down my side and over my new and improved curves. It weaves around my leg like a snake and stops on my foot.

The firelight dances over our faces, showing the deep feeling in our eyes. “I need you to know something, Xander,” I begin nervously, clutching a small charm that has been with me through many problems. “Every scar on my skin, every wound, it tells a story—a story of pain, loss, and sometimes, hope. But I fear that some of these scars... they might break us apart if we allow them.” Xander’s eyes soften, and he takes my hand in his. “Aria, those scars are proof of your survival. They are signs that you’ve survived pain and still stand here, stronger than ever. They don’t define you...they improve you.”

She had no idea what state the wound was in after not seeing him for the past several days. Xavier felt a warmth in his heart, along with being secretly pleased, knowing that Gabriella actually cared about him. He then readily took off his sweater and propped himself up, giving her an unobstructed view of his wound. His abs were well-defined, but a distinct scar, around three inches long, graced his left abdomen, still a tender pink where it hadn't completely healed. Gabriella lightly touched Xavier's wound before she looked up at him and asked softly, "Does it still hurt?"

He started patting my back gently and I soon relaxed into his hold. I breathed in his scent and it sort of calmed my raging and turbulent soul. All the confusion I felt earlier began to dissipate and I leaned into his hold. "Nathan?" I called against his chest. "Yes, my Luna," he answered. "I thought getting healed from the scars on my body was going to put an end to my problems," I began. Nathan moved his hands into my hair and began to play with it by running his fingers through it. "I had no idea that the scars only changed their original position. . ." I trailed. "From my skin to my soul," I muttered. "And every day, it gets worse. . ." I went on.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

She remembered being told that it wasn’t her fault. She remembered seeing a tall guy standing beside Jace’s grave, his back towards her. He was probably his younger brother whom she never had a chance to meet. She remembered everything. She looked down at the scar on her forearm, there were a few scars on her body that left marks. They reminded her of that horrible night. The one on her forehead was nearly invisible now, but the rest were the same. They didn’t hurt but the memories did, the nightmares did. Her older sister had been her support in all of this, her sister, her parents, Faith, and all her friends.

“You told me once you were addicted to my face. Said it was your drug. Well… it’s gone now. Just scars. So please—go find someone whole.” “I’m so sorry, Jake…” Ariana choked out. “Sorry?” I laughed bitterly, my head shaking. “I wish sorry could fix it.” And then—something warm touched me. A hand. Small. Soft. Real. It was Liz. I knew how her hands felt. “Jake…” Her voice was soft, trembling. Her eyes were dripping with tears, but she didn’t look away. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t disgusted. She was just… there. She touched my scars like they were nothing, tracing them without being disgusted.

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.

She says with a smile. “Climb on the platform. Can you take your shirt off for me so I can measure you properly without it in the way?” She asks gesturing to me to step on the platform. Fuck, not now why here, everyone is going to see my scars that pass us. I want to say no, but I know this is inevitable. So, I do the last thing I want to do now and take off my shirt. I hear Xavier gasp, but I don’t turn to look at him. I know what he sees, there is a branding mark on my lower back on the right side and my back has sooo many scars from where they marked me with a metal rod. The old lady takes a few minutes to get her act together and starts measuring me. When she is done with my upper half,

His blood boiled and his wolf seeked exit. "I believe that there are some creams used for fading scars" Chris said. He wasn't used to treat beings who were not of his kind and werewolves had the ability to heal quickly so there was no need to have any creams like that in his possession. "But it'll take awhile" Chris added, earning a growl of disapproval from Zephyr. He hated to see those scars on her skin and he wanted them gone immediately. "Ah, I know..." Chris started excitedly but paused midway as though he said something he wasn't supposed to say.