Bloodborne Hunter Fanart Novels & Stories

As Alex continued to absorb Ruth’s pain, he noticed bullet holes in her hand. “Hunters…” he muttered, frowning, relief mingling with anger as he continued channeling the pain into himself. He gritted his teeth, feeling energy coursing through him and into her body. His gaze shifted to the crescent mark on her arm—it was glowing red, pulsating slowly.

Noelle whispered, her eyes welling with tears as she looked on at the picture on the wall. Ezekiel followed her gaze, and his eyes widened as he finally took in what had startled his mate and best friend. "Who's the baby?" Hunter knew the answer well enough but he just wanted to be sure. He did not want to be even one percent wrong about this. "Me." It was a monochrome painting of a younger looking Master holding baby Noelle, standing over the corpses of dead wolves. Brown streaks ran across the painting – it was evident to the wolves that it was blood.

Celeste’s: a skateboard made of frozen blood, twin tails streaming like comet fire. Caption: Because power without love is just another cage. Seras’s: a cheerleader pyramid built from burning bodies. Caption: Because rage is warmer than grief. Lucian’s: a dragon curled protectively around a tiny flame. Caption: Because some things are worth burning for. Jax’s: a wolf pack running under a sky full of falling stars. Caption: Because family isn’t blood; it’s who shows up. Li’s: a laptop screen cracked open to reveal an entire universe inside.

I smiled gently. “You have a warrior’s body.” I ran my fingers down a particularly ropey scar down her side. “What was this one from?” “Bobby Brown,” she said. “A werewolf that liked to hunt human children. He had a thing for their hearts. He’d barbecue them.” She shuddered with the memory. “He had killed my client’s nephew. Took me a week but I got him. Brought his heart to my client as proof.” She spoke matter of factly, no pride in her voice. She might not be proud of herself, but I was impressed. I had heard of Bobby Brown and had heard of the hunter that got him. I didn’t realize it was her.

“Game or not, the hunter or the hunted, I will take this art and find out everything, starting from the Tarots.” To the wind that brought its gentleness and delivers the melody that makes and breaks everything of the chess pieces worlds into both hell and heaven, a smile draws into the bright light of the full moon, as it's neon purple colored eyes sparks with the stance and form of a child that’s claim is someone of the sole and first God. "You made this happened, do you?”

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

Selena’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and she chose flight. “Damn it, he was not alone.” A man with a deep voice said, taking out his fangs from the gushing body of Ethan, but despite not being hungry, the creature knew it could not let Selena leave. It did not enjoy its meal because Ethan had the most common blood group in the world and that was their equivalent of a flat cola. This had quickly turned into a horrid evening, one of the most traumatic events for Selena but it was about to get worse. “Hey… You shouldn’t be doing that,” A voice said, it had the same bass as the one that had just killed but it was a lot more authoritative.

These hunters will turn the world upside down if only to find her and get the coveted prize. "Yaya, I'm going to the gym. Don't cook dinner for me. I'm just going to grab something to eat at the nearby resto when I conclude my workout." “Sure Ma’am. I understand.” Stressed from a long day's work, she chose to unwind and let go of some steam. This is her habitual way of getting rid of the toxins in her body. In her reckoning, the sweat that flows out of her pores drives away the microorganisms that have clung to her. Aside from her exercise routine in the gym, she believes that tonight is special. It is forecast that a full moon will be rising from the East. It is time to go hunting and quenc

Nothing felt like enough. “Silas,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest. His breathing was shallow, his body too still. The scent of silver mixed with blood was suffocating. The hunters were getting closer. I could see their shadows through the gaps in the trees, hear their low voices cutting through the air. I squeezed my eyes shut, muttering a prayer to anyone who might be listening. A shift in the wind made my breath catch. A familiar voice rang through the air. “Let’s wrap this up! We’ve got enough!”

The vision abruptly disappears. Brook-ta-man vomited. The hunter's blood splattered across the floor like a sticky goo. The vampire, full of disgust for what he had drunk, moved his hands creating spell threads, froze for a second. The white-faced's blood flared up like gasoline, the mutilated body caught fire. The vampire set the hunter on fire. Brook-ta-man looks at the burning body of the enemy.