Fanfiction Book Binding Novels & Stories

I look over to where Primus had been sitting not so long ago. What's this? Primus left something behind. A book? Was this the gift he meant to give me? It is a small thing, dainty. I cannot imagine someone as large as Primus ever reading this because how could he ever hold onto it without breaking it? It looks so precious, and fragile. Even as a child, I can't imagine he would have been small or careful enough to read it. Gently, as if lifting a rose from a vase, I pick up the blush pink volume, marveling at the delightful texture of its silk binding, the title embroidered in gold. While I might not know many words yet, I know enough that I can read the title of this book.

She tore the box open. Inside this box were a dozen books. Most looked the same—typical bindings, mostly classics. But one book stood out immediately. It didn’t look anything like the others. It was thick, overstuffed and weathered, with leather binding. It looked as if it had been through a war. And it looked ancient.

The contents thumped and it was kind of heavy. “Open it, silly boy.” With great vivacity he ripped the paper from the box and peeled away the tape that secured the edge and looked inside. He gasped as he brought the book out of its cardboard confines. “I know that you will never be able to replace the one that got messed up, but I thought maybe you’d like another one,” Sebastian said in a light, perhaps nervous tone. Jaxsen stared at the authentic camel leather binding of the journal in his hands and couldn’t breathe. The covers were textured under his fingertips and he could tell the paper inside was recycled. Just like his old one.

Lucian slid the book to the floor and pulled me onto his lap and just held me, giving me comfort as everything hit me all at once. "I promise you that I will embrace you whenever you need comfort and never harm you or hurt your feelings intentionally," he growled low into the top of my head before kissing my hair. I laid my cheek against his shoulder and mumbled a soft thank you. I drifted off to sleep held in his surprisingly warm embrace.

A book with a leather binding. No diamonds. No large sums of money. No secret weapons or blueprints. Just a book. I felt stupid for a moment. Then I reached in and took it out. The weight of it was substantial and firm. The spine was strengthened with old thread and the leather has become smooth with use and age. I had never seen a single crest stamped on a cover before. A crown, dagger and an ember. All three combined to form a single horrifying symbol. I took my place at the desk and got it open. and started reading.

and I showed him the book I am holding. “Is that your story, right?” Syrel asked and she gets the book away from me. “What the heck. There is nothing inside” she reacted when she saw the content of the book. “It’s just a sample handbound of my story. Besides, where are calculating how we can put all of it in just one book. Look at it, it’s thick because it has 500+ pages” I explained to her. “So don’t expect that it has contents now because it’s just a sample” I added.

Jomar humorously said, making me laugh as well. "You'll be in trouble with Jenny if she hears that," I teased. "That's our little secret, Yannie," he said, still laughing. "By the way..." He took a bookbind from his bag and handed it to me. "Here." "What is this?" I asked in surprise as I gently took it from him. "It's a bookbind for our Filipino Stenography. I had it made recently. Printing at my uncle's office was free, so I got a bit extra," Jomar replied with a smile.

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.

Not for them. For me. I stopped when something caught my eye, my fingers hovering over a familiar section of the shelf. The same place I had taken the herbal book from before. My hand moved without thinking, pulling another book free, the leather cover worn and aged like it had been waiting far longer than I had been here. I wiped a thin layer of dust from it with my palm, my eyes scanning the title slowly. Binding. The word alone made something in my chest tighten slightly. I stared at it for a moment longer before opening it carefully, the old pages shifting softly beneath my fingers. The scent of aged paper filled the air as I flipped through the first few pages, my eyes moving over the w