Fanfiction Bones Novels & Stories

She didn't feel like the words were being screamed at her, but for her. "Blood of Family! Blood like Bones Digging Deep!!" Then she was crashing, falling, down, down, hitting things along the way, some roots, some white objects, hard. Like bone.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Rise of the Forsaken The old roots of Ironfang ran deep—twisting through stone and silence, deeper than most wolves ever dared to tread. Lyra followed Kira through the hidden passages beneath the capital’s underbelly, where forgotten oaths and abandoned bones whispered secrets in the dark. The tunnel opened into a vast cavern, lit only by veins of glowing fungi that clung to the walls like ancient scars. Wolves—dozens of them—lifted their heads as Lyra emerged from the shadows.

“You mean to say we stand here listening to the ghosts of those who should have never existed, and you expect us to believe that is strength? That is poison, Syra, nothing more than poison.” Syra’s violet eyes glimmered like the surface of a lake at midnight as she answered with quiet certainty. “Poison to the Pack perhaps, but not to Fenric. They are his blood as surely as they are mine. Do you think he vanished into shadow by chance? Do you think the Bonebinder chose him without reason? You cannot sever blood no matter how much you wish it gone. The howl is his inheritance.”

"If I don't return by sunrise, continue to the capital. Tell Lord Blackmoor's son what happened." He stepped through the bone archway before she could object further. The darkness within closed around him like liquid night, cutting off all sound and sensation from the world outside. For a moment, he experienced perfect isolation, suspended in void without reference point or direction. Then the bones began to sing. Not with sound as living creatures would understand it, but with resonance that vibrated through whatever remained of his soul. Each named bone in the ossuary's construction contained not just identity but memory, experience, the accumulated weight of lives willingly surrendered to

I laughed as we walked towards the restroom, “I told you to skip biology and get this over but no, you want to be hard-headed, now look at you.” “Shut up,” she said weakly as I pushed open the restroom door. I barely rolled up my sleeve as Janea bared her fangs, the pointed canines pressing into her bottom lip and making an indention, her eyes becoming slivered and a glowing shade of yellow, her painted nails sharpening into claws. She chomped down on my arm and no amount of healing or durability can take away the pain of being bitten by a hungry vampire. “Whoa! Take it easy Janea! That actually hurt,” I exclaimed.

Another soldier, older, added hoarsely, “It didn’t last long. They screamed once, maybe twice. And then they… dried out. There was no blood, no flesh. Just bones left behind, like something had hollowed them out from the inside.” The words sank into me, cold and heavy. I looked down again at the bones. There was no blood on the floor. No stench of rot. It was just as though the bones adn clothes had been brought her as it was instead of the two alive men who were brought here for an investigation. My anger flared, sharp and immediate, but underneath it was something I rarely allowed myself to feel. Dread. This wasn’t the work of a knife or poison. This wasn’t even cruelty in the way I unders

I murmured, turning the thick page to reveal a two-page spread of a terrifying canine skeleton. "The bones in these drawings are elongated to support an unnatural muscle mass, and the fangs are way too large for a regular timber wolf," I pointed out the impossible biology. I leaned closer to read the handwritten notes scribbled in the margins, and the dark words made my stomach twist into a cold knot. "You are starting to scare the shit out of me," Connor admitted quietly. "The notes detail specific bone densities and healing rates, and the text describes the creatures shifting their actual skeletal structure under extreme distress," I read aloud.

“I didn’t write any of this. The maps, the letters, the war — none of it was in my story. I never even thought about most of these places.” He takes a single step forward, and the air in the room shifts, pressing against her skin like a heavy blanket, making it hard to breathe. “You wrote the bones,” he says, and his eyes never leave hers — dark as obsidian, deep enough to see into if she wasn’t afraid of what she’d find there. “The names, the shapes, the places where power could grow. Someone else added the flesh — the blood, and pain, and purpose that makes a world real rather than just words on a page.”

My back arched violently, a scream tearing from my throat that sounded like tearing metal. Crack. My shin bones shattered. The pain was blinding. I convulsed, my legs thrashing, but Jax held me down. He didn't stop thrusting. If anything, he drove harder, his rhythm syncing with the breaking of my body. "Yes, little wolf," he panted, sweat dripping from his face onto mine. "Bear it." Snap. My ribs reorganized, cracking and shifting. My jaw unhinged with a sickening pop. It was agony. It was ecstasy. The pain of the transformation blended with the pleasure of his cock driving into me, creating a sensory overload that shattered my mind.

Ever since I was young, I knew that my parents' work was unique. My father was a detective who had solved many major cases, while my mother was a forensic artist who was capable of finding clues from the victim's bones. Together, they solved numerous cases. Their most famous one was the White Bone Case five years ago. It was a case about a criminal gang who abducted and killed homeless people before using their bones to smuggle drugs. Since these were real human bones, they could easily avoid being caught by claiming these bones as medical materials.