NETHERBLOOM [Lesbian]

NETHERBLOOM

Over six-thousand-years-ago, in a time when Earth was a haven of serenity, creation thrived in every corner. It was a province untouched by ruin, beloved and whole. But as with all light, shadows were never far behind. In the stillness of that ancient realm, malignancy stirred. And when the darkness fell, it came not quietly but with fury—demons rising from the depths, relentless and savage.

Yet even in the destruction, there was hope. An angel stood against the tide. His emerald eyes and blanched skin shone with purpose, framed by locks of marigold, his vast wings an ivory promise of protection. This angel was more than a guardian; he was a shield between mortals and the abyss.

The Celestials, as his kind were known, were warriors of the heavens, wielders of brass weapons forged to combat evil. Over time, the demons retreated, their attacks rare and fleeting. Mortals began to forget. Words of their saviors faded into myth, but the Celestials remained. They knew that peace was fragile, that danger always lingered just out of sight.

King Oliver, leader of the Celestial realm, carried the yoke of his people’s legacy. He was wise, compassionate, and fiercely devoted to humanity. But even the purest intentions can be twisted. In his yearning to protect the mortal domain, Oliver conceived a bold, dangerous idea: a new creation. A species both like and unlike humans, crafted to share the burden of protection.

The bond between Celestials and mortals was sacred—unchangeable. Only when a mortal died and their soul reincarnated could a new Celestial become their guardian. To disrupt this cycle was unthinkable. Those who failed in their duty risked becoming something dire: Fallen. Their once-fair wings blackened, and their honeyed eyes hollowed into voids. They became chaos incarnate, a stain on all they had once fought for.

Oliver was willing to risk everything for his vision. He chose a mortal—Dr. David Hollisworth, a man with more kindness than common sense—to help him bring it to life. At first, David agreed, blinded by the king’s noble intentions. But intentions have a way of curdling under pressure.

Oliver’s experiments, fueled by the blackened blood of his Celestial veins, didn’t create protectors. They created predators. Vampires.

It started with David, but it didn’t end there. One bite was all it took. Vampirism spread like wildfire, turning mortals into monsters with an insatiable hunger and a thirst for annihilation. The terrain Oliver loved fell into ruin, its people begging for salvation that never came. His shame was his undoing. The first vampire became the vampire king, and Oliver, the Celestial protector, fell at his hands.

And so began the downfall of the Celestials.

War followed—long, bloody, and endless. Angels fought vampires, but the battlefield was anything but simple.

Witches–a particular clan of Sorcerers–stepped into the fray, each faction bringing their own agendas, their own griefs. Regina Michaels, a Sorceress of royal blood, was caught in the war.

That was until she crossed paths with the king of monsters himself—David. It wasn’t supposed to happen, and yet it did—a love so mangled, so forbidden, it poisoned everything it touched. Before anyone could stop it, their fate was sealed. She chose eternity, the ultimate sacrifice, binding herself to him forever.

From their fierce and all-consuming ecstasy came an unexpected gift: two daughters, Amina and Arica. With their corpse-like complexion and rich, chestnut hair, they were unlike anything mankind had seen—natural-born vampires, the first of their kind.

The sisters became the foundation of a new legacy, a dynasty destined to reshape the vampire race. And at the center of it all, ruling over the empire they built, was David Hollisworth—the king of immortals.

When Regina fell—murdered by Baek-hyun Choi, the king of the Fallen angels—her death left scars too deep to heal. Baek-hyun’s attempt to drink her blood was his undoing, her very essence lethal to the Fallen. But her daughters weren’t left to mourn quietly.

They raged.

Cities fell.

Streets ran crimson.

They became the monsters the Celestials were most afraid of.

Eventually, even the vampire king couldn’t escape his fate. Slain by a Celestial’s golden weapon, he left Amina and Arica alone, hunted, their existence a threat to the tenuous balance of power. They fled, seeking peace that never came. To escape the never-ending war between vampires and angels, the twins hid, desperate and unsure of their next move. Amina and Arica remained in the backwoods for what felt like an eternity, their breaths shallow and their nerves frayed. The angels, constant in their pursuit, eventually abandoned the hunt. But the damage had already been done—there was no home to return to, no one left but each other.

For months, they wandered the edges of our planet, ravaged by their hunger and the havoc it brought. Until one storm-choked evening, they stumbled upon the lair of a witch ancient enough to remember the first time the stars burned. Her eyes, a never-ending void, pierced through them. She saw their cravings, their atrocities, and the danger they posed to a realm already brittle and fractured by war.

The witch, weary of the horrors they caused, decided she would end their terror. With a spell older than the mountains, she bound their souls into a single, snaring amulet—a necklace that pulsed with an eerie light. Amina and Arica’s bodies faded into nothingness, leaving only the feeble echo of their cries trapped in the gemstone’s depths.

For three-thousand-years, the twins’ souls would remain sealed in the enchanted necklace, their hunger silenced, their reaping stilled. Forgotten by time, waiting for the day when fate would free them once more. They needed a Celestial, born with the power to gain their freedom, to hold the prized possession. The only catch was that the Celestial had to choose one to love, leaving the other trapped in the pendant for another endless cycle. The burden of the Celestial Empire would soon fall upon the guardian’s shoulders as they became its next leader.

But legends don’t stay silent forever.

Angelina Jones didn’t ask to be a part of this war. She didn’t want the visions, the unbearable destiny tied to a past she didn’t remember or understand. But she wasn’t just anyone—she was Oliver reborn. The one fated to lead the Celestials back from ruin. Whether she wanted to or not.

Meanwhile, wickedness grew.

Society trembled as the Blood C- vampires—the last and most terrifying creatures—rose to power. A single blood-red eye glared out from their face, contrasting with the other icy-white eye. Long, broad, and obsidian veins ran from their face down their neck, pulsing and writhing.

The dawn of the Blood C- generation began with the infamous Charlotte Robbie, a name spoken with dread in hushed tones through leaden corridors.

She was a horror unlike any before her.

Her transformation was marked by an unspeakable act: she drained her parents of their lifeblood, leaving behind only cold, lifeless husks. Her insatiable hunger birthed a monstrous legacy, one her vampire pack eagerly embraced. They descended into a morbid existence, a group of cannibalistic vampires.

Their reign of having not only struck into the hearts of mortals and Celestials but also into the Originals—the ancient progenitors of vampire-kind. Even they shuddered at the merciless hunger that defined the Blood C- vampires. These creatures cared nothing for the lives they consumed, their hearts as hollow as their insatiable lusts. Humanity was a foreign concept, empathy a weakness they had long abandoned. To them, only one thing mattered: blood, crimson and unending.

Diligent and ruthless, they prowled the night like predators devoid of conscience, a horrifying embodiment of primal hunger and savagery. They entered a new source of fright into nature, a haunted reminder that some wrongs go beyond the reach of even the most wretched nightmares.

And as the immortals reeled under her reign, Angelina’s well-kept alliance with Amina and Arica became the last promise of survival. Entwined in passion, Angelina and her twin lovers stood against these nightmarish forces. The long-fought battle between vampires and angels found its sudden resolution. Angelina’s love for Amina was a glow amidst the gloom, an intimate bind that held them close even as the globe went up in flames. Together, they forged peace, and Angelina became Queen Angelina Hollisworth, ruler of the Celestial realm. Amina—the queen of the Original realm.

But peace always demands a price.

Arica was lost, her essence bound once more to the cursed necklace.

The queens’ unwavering love for one another led them to another goal. They searched for a Sorcerer, someone who could give them the one thing they needed: a gift.

A spell that would allow them to have a legacy. That legacy came in the form of a child—a daughter born of magic and love, thrust into a place of dangerous corruption. With her precious hazel eyes and smooth blonde hair, she was a shining example of change in a place full of war. It was necessary to protect this innocence from all evils.

I am Nadia Harrison, the princess’s protector. An Original vampire with blood on my hands and a promise in my heart.

But what comes next—even I can’t predict.

This is my story. . .