MY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH4MY BIG FAT DRAGON CH4MY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH4 in Science Fiction More Like This
Warning: If you dont like fat Dragons and vore, then do not read.
Chapter 4: Wish Fulfillment
I got up and looked at the small little dragon as it shook the remains of the shattered eggshell of itself. I backed up and stepped on an old dry leaf. The dragon instantly whipped around and faced me. Our eyes locked. I wanted to turn and run, but something in the way those eyes stared at me held me firmly in place. Without warning, the dragon leaped onto me with such force that I fell over backwards. To my amazement, it did not hurt me, but began licking my face all over. Once I was thoroughly covered in drool, it got off and let me up. Not knowing what to do, I just stood there looking at the dragon confused. It saw this, and its little head dropped, a look of sheer sadness upon its face.
You dont remember me, do you?
I was confused. I liked dragons a lot, but never did I imagine seeing one up close, and this one was a little too real for comfor
MY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH3MY BIG, FAT DRAGONMY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH3 in Science Fiction More Like This
Warning: Only for fat Draggies
Flare awoke the next morning on his living room floor to hear voices talking over him. They werent his parents, but someone elses, and there were a lot of them. He cautiously opened one eye a crack, and instantly shut it. He was completely surrounded by animals, and not just his house pets, but wild ones as well. Flare wondered why his dogs hadnt protected him whats more the voices seemed to be coming from the animals. Josie, the most faithful of his dogs, was lying on the floor beside him. A stag was talking to her, and apparently the conversation was about him.
How do we know hes the chosen one for sure? He looks like any regular human to me.
He was lifted clear off the ground by a comet of pure light. If thats not a sign, then I dont know what is. Wait, shh. Listen, his breathings changed. I think hes awake.
Flare shuddered and closed his eyes tigh
MY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH 1MY BIG, FAT DRAGONMY BIG, FAT DRAGON CH 1 in Science Fiction More Like This
Warning: If you are easily frightened, or pee your pants at the mere thought of a big, fat, cuddly, yet powerful draggie, this story is not for you. Should you read this, the author and all supporters involved are in no way responsible for any nightmares (dreams should you happen to like Dragons like me), or any bed-wetting that might ensue. Also, to those who like Dragons, I am also in no accounts responsible if you poop your pants form laughing so hard after reading this warning.
Chapter 1: The Powers That Be and Amazing Origins
Ever since the dawn of time, two great forces have governed our world. Light and Darkness (Good and Evil) are forever locked in a titanic power struggle for dominance. For centuries they balanced each other, then came the making of our galaxy, the Milky Way. As with all the others before, Light and Darkness instantly began feuding over it. Darkness added the cold void of spac
MY BIG, FAT DRAGON CHAPTER 2MY BIG, FAT DRAGONMY BIG, FAT DRAGON CHAPTER 2 in Science Fiction More Like This
Warning: Don't read if you don't like big, fat, cuddly, draggies.
Chapter 2: Destined for Greatness
Fare was not your average 14 year old boy. No matter what he did, no one would accept him for who he was. Sure, you could blame it on the fact that he was a four-eyed brace-face looser who did nothing but watch T.V., surf the web, and play video games. But the real problem lied deeper than that. The real problem was his personality. He was what most people would call "immature". Although he was 14 and in fact was mature, he had a deep, burning, passionate obsession, Dragons. Of course everyone teased him about it, but he didn't mind. He was more of a loner himself and liked his space. If he could he would much rather hang out with his pets and talk to them instead. He always felt so awkward in large groups of people, but seeemed to feel right at home with animals.
Bottled UpThere is so much to considerBottled Up in Free Verse More Like This
When pouring a glass of wine:
The meniscal kiss
Curving into the bowl:
promise of lips stained
with a blush that is
anything but bashful.
The size of the glass,
length of the stem,
and how will he hold his drink?
Will he have the lasting power of
The first sip have
a dry or sweet finish?
Will the evening bubble
Or conversation wane,
fermenting past its prime
into a vinegar of stained carpet
or the clang of a broken glass
on a hardwood floor?
The child is grownHair parted in the middle,The child is grown in Free Verse More Like This
The pigtails fell lose
Some time ago.
Can't say I'm sorry
To have traded the jumper
For a pair of fading jeans.
Some things I miss, though:
My mother's careful hands
working through the tangled
mess of curls,
clothes neatly pressed and starched
skillful fingers making perfect bows
of the ked laces.
Some mornings the only thing that keeps me going
is that one instruction:
"Make a loop, over and through."
The hair I've left to its own devices,
clothes haven't seen an iron in years.
I don't always sit with my legs together
or keep my elbows off the table
but one thing I got right:
Lose ends always need tying.
One Man's TrashGot it cheap at a thrift store,One Man's Trash in Free Verse More Like This
left by some anonymous patron:
maybe an old woman,
cleaning out a closet,
significance lost to time and a
fine coat of dust?
Or did she suffer the loss when
she passed it, still on a hanger,
to the man at the counter?
Did she falter when he offered
only a smile and a "we'll be happy
to take it off your hands" as condolence,
like he'd be doing a great service,
bargaining off her past.
Then "keep only what you use"
the mantra of some clutter-busting
self-help book drowns out
the fifty-year-old strains of "Sleepwalk"
from a high school prom
and her hand slips from the fabric,
saying "You can have it,
God knows I'll never need it again."
DesiderataHands, chest, fingers, back,Desiderata in Free Verse More Like This
eyes with black hole tunnel heading
soulward, stoic, then sordid whispers,
distorted by shifting, lunging, lifting,
leaning forward, moving back,
supressing, depressing, undressing
expressing obsession, a predilection,
to erect a monument to a
lifetime of pent up good intent,
then spent and going slack, exhaling,
words failing, chest heaving, drinking the sound
of labored breathing, sweat dripping,
then slipping back into
the curtain of the dark of evening.
Always Dark insideΚαθισαμε εκει για ωρεςAlways Dark inside in Free Verse More Like This
ατενιζοντας το τελος
που παντα μας πορολαβαινει γιατι παντα ειναι κοντα
και μετα ηρθε η βροχη
να καψει τη μοιρα της απορριψης
και να αφησει ενα υγρο αποτυπωμα στα ονειρα μο
dixrwma matiaμε τη ματια καρφωμενη στο πατωμαdixrwma matia in Free Verse More Like This
και τις αναπνοες της να συμβαδιζεουν με τον ηχο απο τους δειχτες του ρολογιου
ετοιμαζε τις αποσκευες των μικρων στιγμων ...
αυτες οι μικρες στιγμες που την εκαναν ν
HugYou walk up to me.Hug in Free Verse More Like This
I look at you like a cat that is unknowingly trying to imitate an emote.
As your approach comes to an end you put your arms out. Both going past my body on either side.
Then simply, "Hug?"
I do not comprehend this word, your intent nor punctuation.
Your arms tighten around me and your chin rests on my shoulder.
I stand there
what is this new emotion.
The Mythology of MetalDISCLAIMER: If you're "emo" or have emo friends, or disagree with what i place up here take no offense. it's all in good fun.The Mythology of Metal in Settings More Like This
Ozzy Osbourne - First god of metal
Rob Halford - He is, THE METAL GOD!!! He resurected metal after it was betrayed by the four prophets.
Bruce Dickinson - God of light and arts and heir to the thrown of metal. His powers match that of the metal god himself
Eddie the Head - Minion of Bruce Dickinson
Vic Rattlehead - the god of war
Danzig - God of Hardcore, a distant cousin to metal. He is known as the bridge between metal and punk, for he is well known in both
Manowar - the gods of Black wind, Fire, and steel.
Charolette the Harlot - Goddess of love and beuaty...and prostitution.
Dio - Known as the Holy Diver. The messenger of the metal gods as well as the prince of the metal gods.
Melissa - goddess of witch craft. lover of King Diamond.
King Diamond - King of storytelling and the dark arts
Iommi - Created the metal gods.
Varg Vikernes - God of darkn
Quest of...Part 1Quest of...Part 1 in Free Verse More Like This
Quest of the Mystic Knight Part I : Darkness Abounds
Dark demons conjured from their dank tomb
Spreading evil - at the Order of Satan's wish for gloom
Across meadows flowering this wave of fire goes breathing
Scorching everything beautiful – everything living.
Lightlessness creeps over a land left barren
Obstructing even the brilliance of heaven
However a fair maiden wanders aimlessly
Over the desolate landscape vigilantly.
Amidst the ruin she finds a single lily flourishing
Glowing brilliant still amongst the decaying
A sign of life still untouched by the devastation
A sign of beauty purity hope and salvation.
From ashes of Lucifer also rises in beauty
A new Hero – A New Glory to battle this Evil Entity
The danger lies not within His also rising Wisps
It lies within ourselves, are we willing to help what He risks?
silent screams.taste the venom between the smackingsilent screams. in Free Verse More Like This
of twin lips as they break their joint spine
and revel in the sound of death drilling
behind your eyelids until alone is a sound
you think you might want to rest in.
close your heart and button up the shutters
and board up the doors until the wind howls
and the chain is beating against the wood
with a hollow sound like a fist knocking,
but you know better, because no one has
knocked on this door since thirteen hundred
days ago when time was starting and you
had fresh pain[t] and a bright smile.
music hurts in the way of your skin peeling
and love is too bright to even look at and
the voice you want to wrap up to swallow
your breath is strangely missing and no
matter how hard you try, this absence
is just the lack of anything and you can't
drown in nothing no matter how
damn much you want to.
your back is in knots and your head is in
pretzels and you're screaming without making
a sound and crying without dropping a tear
and your flesh is melting all
7 Lovely SinsThe7 Lovely Sins in Free Verse More Like This
The Book of
1 This is how you will know to mark the young among men,
for this is the prayer they pray, again and again.
2 It is these who should be marked and minted into lives worth being spent.
3 These are the words they speak in vain,
"Our father who art in us, tradition be thy name.
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, in me as it is in him.
Give us this day our lovely sins1—those of youth and innocence.
And forgive us our deviance, as we forgive those who differ from us.
And lead us not into similarity, but deliver us from the collective.
For thine is the prison, and the scorn, aimed at abnormal men."2
1:3 1 7 Lovely Sins, Quintessence 1, New Testament
1:3 2 Hope's Prayer, Quintessence 43, New Testament
The Book of
1 Behold, these are the sins
for which you shall be told to repent
When God Sleeps.I. So it comes to this: pangea tearing itself rawWhen God Sleeps. in Free Verse More Like This
from our throats to pour into squares of newly open sky
where the stars grew aches and darkened lakewater
once bloomed into bruised winters. Somewhere
beyond the thick of snow, prayers are strung
on moon-rattled winds
and birds' teeth tear apart the poetry
of our hands. They will raise something beautiful
from these ruined words.
Continents shift slowly. They are
dirt-bound titans, these beasts;
rootless giants that mold themselves
to fit the vision we hold inside our heads. Oceans sigh
and their tides crawl ever upward.
II. Our shadows become umbilical
in certain light. Unknown children cast
dark shapes of water
to nourish the gardens springing forth
from the dirt's wrist like a eulogy for lost sky.
Morning doves sing because they see what we cannot:
the years between us laid out like miles and our feet
that never mark the reddened earth and
the passion-trees birthing flowers of such cold, untamed souls.
We are walking in the wombs of