Bloodborne Hunter Fanart Novels & Stories

I’ve officially lost my mind. I was born and raised to be a Hunter, to kill the supernatural beings that endanger the lives of humans. I was trained to kill vampires, not fuck them. Yet here I am in an alley, literally balls deep in Daniela. I shouldn’t be doing this. I really shouldn’t be enjoying it this much either.

The symbol in the middle was also 2 pieces running vertically with a curve at the top on both sides, representing a skull almost. This, encased within the jagged circle, represented The Vampire and The Hunter. What a fitting mark.

High cheekbones and a very very sexy lips with an equally straight nose. So freaking beautiful. My breath caught and my heart seemed to be not functioning properly. It kept stuttering, beating out of time. As he stepped in he completely ignored my presence. Three steps ahead, he turned and looked in my direction, who was beside the shop's door and the most cornered place beside the window. He turned and I could see the tattoo that ran up on the side of his face, like a carving of some kind, so beautiful. He surpassed the hot meter. He could be in a magazine, posing and the article will be titled, 'Dark angel spotted nearby.'

Stephen explained a bit. "Ohhh that's why everyone was tense when I first entered the office. And Max left the office when I had the finger cut". Callum exclaimed and Max nodded. "Yes. Among all of us, Max has the least tendency of blood tolerance. Because he still prefers Human blood unlike us. And mostly unlike me. Because I don’t feed on human blood. Like only once or twice. Otherwise I am happy to be a lion hunter". Stephen smiled. "So that wasn't the Red Cherry Wine you were drinking". Callum thought for a while and then his eyes were wide again. Stephen looked at him and laughed out loud.

His mind was blank for a second. Later on, he found himself licking her blood and slowly biting between the neck and the shoulder of the hunter. Little by little his teeth are pressing on her skin. But before he completely bite her, he was back to his sense. He was stunned for a few seconds. His hand starts trembling while looking at his face of Accalia. He wanted more, he wanted to bite her, and he wanted to mark the hunter. But when he remember the face of her mother, he feel guilty about what he was doing. Instead of biting the hunter, he bites his arm until fresh blood flows in it.

His blade gleamed silver, and his grin made my blood freeze. Before I could even scream, the hunter went flying backwards, his head cracking against the doorframe with a sickening sound. Derek’s hand was around his throat, dragging him back out into the hall like he was nothing but trash. His face and his eyes, they weren’t human anymore, glowing amber, sharp and wild. The hunter gurgled, spit blood, and went limp. I staggered back, heart racing, then saw it. Derek’s arm. Where the hunter’s blood touched his skin, it hissed. Smoke rose off his flesh. His veins were blackening under it.

The pale brown almost birthmark looking tattoos along his arms, shoulders, back and chest blaze with divine light and a long bow appears in his massive hand, a full quiver on his back. “Careful of the weres and the humans!” I warn, as he nocks a wicked looking arrow and let’s fly into the back of a knife-wielding vampire with one of the Candlewood wolves pinned against a tree. Twitching as if a current of electricity was running through him, the vamp staggers back, but before the loosed were can tear into him, the arrow bursts into a white-hot flare, burning the bloodsucker from the inside out. My father glances at me, arching a brow.

“You’re earlier than expected.” Draven’s expression turns lethal. “You know me.” “We know both of you.” The hunter lifts something small from his belt. Not a weapon. A silver disk marked with symbols Vaelith has never seen before. The creature inside containment suddenly slams against the fractured boundary hard enough to shake the clearing. “Don’t let him activate it!” Too late. The hunter presses his thumb against the center. The symbol ignites instantly. And agony tears through the bond.

Seemed like they hadn't been touched for a long time. I picked up the first one. It was a portrait of Boomer, drawn as if it was not an artwork but a real picture. The colors blended with each other so well like some professional artist put their heart and soul in it. The second one was of Doser... then another of the boys together… and one of Karen. At the end of the canvases there were written the letters 'H. K.'. H. K. Hunter King. Hunter drew all these? Admiration filled my heart.

Blood trailed down my temple and before I could turn, Maverick was down the truck, grabbing an iron pole as he attacked the Moon Hunter who also defended. Despite the pain threatening to rip me apart, I alighted from the truck, weak and giddy. I watched as they clashed, engaging in a brutal fight. My vision blurred, my body getting weak. Marks. Chains. My spiritual sight was activating, and I could see the Hunter, blue chains trailing from his back. Marks of the council control glowed from his arms. My vision was back, and then I found out what Moon Hunter had in his hands. I gasped. A gun, laced with wolfsbane and whispersteel. He pulled the trigger, a silver bullet flying out from the gun.