Bloodborne Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

Some others talked about several encounters and then eventually stopped coming into work, never to be heard from again. There were some girls Lavinia knew of who seemed to want attention from vampires. They claimed there was something pleasurable about being on the bleeding end of a bite. To feel that vulnerable and desired. Lavinia knew whatever these girls had experienced; It would not be the same with Isaac. She turned onto her side and pulled the covers over her face.

“Oh, but you did. Your fire woke it. The boy carried sleeping blood. Old blood. The kind the Council thought was gone. And you, my dear, pulled it out of him like pulling thorns from skin.” I shook my head hard. “No. He was just Damon. He was normal.” Magnus laughed, low and cruel. “No one is normal when they stand too close to you. You are the spark that wakes the dead blood. You make the buried rise.” Damon groaned, clutching his chest. The glow spread across his neck and jaw, his veins shining silver like rivers of light. His body shook as if something inside him was tearing free.

Not at Cain’s penthouse or the café, but in Samantha’s backyard under fairy lights and wine-fueled laughter. The kids played tag in the grass. Their husbands talked sports around the grill. They smiled. They joked. They wore their masks like couture. “You ever think about what comes next?” Samantha whispered while sipping from her glass. Grace raised an eyebrow. “After Cain?” Ava’s laugh was low and bitter. “There is no *after*. There’s only deeper.” A shadow moved near the side gate. Just the wind—or maybe not. None of them flinched. Because when you live inside a lie long enough, you start to recognize when the wind shifts and smelled like blood

“Mine carries lineage. If I ever betray you, let this act bind me to death.” Before she could protest, I brought the blade to her palm and made a shallow cut, just deep enough to draw a thin line of red. She gasped but didn’t pull away. Then, with deliberate care, I pressed our palms together. The moment our blood mingled, a jolt of heat surged between us. It wasn’t like the fire she had conjured earlier, this was older, deeper, almost sentient. It coiled around us like a living thing, threading through my veins and hers, sealing us in a bond that went beyond words.

Heat flooded through me, overwhelming, unstoppable. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. His groan vibrated against my mouth, low and raw, the sound of a man unraveling. His hands gripped my waist, dragging me against him, and I felt the tremor in his body, the hunger barely leashed. His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing along my cheek. I felt the tremor in his fingers, the thrum of his pulse, and it mirrored my own. Desire and frustration collided, leaving me dizzy, caught in a whirlwind of sensation.

Luciana breathed out in relief, ignoring the looks she was getting from her roommates. She began to ponder upon what she had learnt from the library. She learnt that almost all supernatural creatures have classes, depending on how pure their blood was. She also learnt that over the years, the royals have preserved their pure blood by only breeding with people with pure blood too. They also strengthen themselves by drinking blood from other creatures, most especially the sirens.

Trevor finishes lighting the candles and Blair rushes toward me, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me closer as they all begin to sing. By the time they stop singing, the clock strikes the minute I was born, and I take a deep breath ready to blow out all 18 candles. But the front door crashes open, loud enough to make all of us jump, wind rushes into the room extinguishing my lit candles. My jaw drops as I see a man in front of me with piercing red eyes and when he opens his mouth, his fangs are undeniable. Vampire. There’s a vampire in our home. The fear in the room is so thick you could almost taste it. My ears feel like they’re ringing and I can faintly hear Trevor yell to Blair, “Blair,

I feel guilty because feeding from people like Alex, like this woman, feels like an even greater violation than feeding normally is, like a sort of betrayal. I still do it, of course, and her blood tastes just as good as Alex’s had tasted, and I savour the experience, slowing down and trying to taste the intricacies of the flavours within. There’s something that reminds me of citrus, and something that reminds me of rose. Is this the experience shared by all those other immortals, the ones that don’t belong to this cursed bloodline of ours? If it is, no wonder so many of them glut themselves on it. I heal her up, then return her drink tray to her, letting go of the sorcery on the door and wa

I had watched him kill traitors and humans with a single slap, snapping their necks like twigs. Veyron leaned in. I met his eyes, and his frown deepened. "Close your eyes." I obeyed, shutting them tight, surrendering to the darkness. His lips met mine. The kiss was soft at first, then came his tongue and something metallic that tasted of vanilla and copper. I knew it instantly. Veyron's blood. He never bled unless he chose to. His blood was currency in our pack, harvested by scientists for healing syrups and pills that cured everything from infections to cancer. Taken directly, it granted rapid healing, surging energy, vitality that made the recipient feel reborn.

Bright red, staining his palm and fingers. For an instant, he just stared at his own hand, the blood shining under the corridor lights. Another cough. More blood. Little, but blood. “The bond.” The Lycan growled, not out of anger, but out of understanding. “It’s trying to sustain both. What hits her is crossing over.”