Worth hiding by MichaelLlewr on DeviantArt

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Lovely-day-for-fishing-378497587MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Meadowhawk-The-Curse-Unsealed-1220213817MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Meadowhawk-Winter-s-Bite-1128162678MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Forbidden-love-39214137MichaelLlewr

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MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Persian-Manticore-80461517MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Prince-Trihakis-64578047MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Rojark-110508873MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Prince-Geldradith-66035179MichaelLlewr

Promoted Deviations

Literature

Manuary Prompts: Violence as First Language

“He is searching for something…” the old patheurian spacer muttered, one of his feline eyes milky - fur like the gray of a freighter's hull, his tail lashed the air as he downed his mug. “What makes you say that, old cat?” the human behind the bar asked. “I hear things…” the patheurian replied. “I hear rumors. Even through the vastness of space word travels. Look at what he’s taken… artifacts from civilizations long gone.” “He steals lots of things, he’s a pirate. It’s what they do.” the brown-furred Daedalian to the feline’s right said. The Daedalian resembled an Earth jackal, and wore the uniform of the planet’s Home Guard with a distinctly non-regulation Daedalian blade attached to her belt. “Mmm,” the Patheurian replied, “He does steal cargo, weapons, minerals… but he goes out of his way for artifacts. I think he’s trying to find what’s left of his home.” The Daedalian’s ears parted at thoughts of home: her people had lost theirs. Scattered among the stars, and those

Literature

Obsidian Hunger

Night drapes the city in black velvet, the kind that swallows sound and bends the moonlight into pale, trembling pools. She stands on the terrace of a crumbling tower, the wind tugging at her hair, her gown clinging to curves that burn beneath its silk. The scent of damp stone and night-blooming roses curls around them, heavy with promise. He appears from shadow, as inevitable as darkness itself. Horns gleam black in the pale light, sigils along his arms glowing faintly, reacting to her very presence. His eyes burn, coal-deep and infinite, and the air shivers as he approaches. “No more games,” he growls, voice velvet wrapped around steel. Every step toward her is measured, predatory, and yet unbearably deliberate. “Not tonight.” She swallows, pulse leaping, desire threading every nerve. “I am yours,” she admits, voice low and deliberate, no trace of hesitation—her claim, her surrender, her invitation all in one. He closes the distance in two long, sure strides, and the wind

Literature

Template SFDR #11: The Golden Dream PT3

Wednesday—it was slightly darker this morning than it usually is. That made getting up a bit more comforting, as I usually can’t stand the sun in the sky while getting ready to greet the day. I got ready a bit quicker today and turned on the TV, since I tend to still have a lot of time to spare before getting to work. This time, the news was… a bit interesting. The first story was about a man who was murdered in his sleep last night—but get this—he had two small punctures in his neck, as if a vampire had fed on him. Vampires are just a myth, of course, and there’s almost no way you could convince me otherwise… however, the reports said his body was very cold, and very little blood was found dripping from his neck. Strange. The second story was a little less interesting. A woman and her husband swore they were hearing books being flung across the room downstairs from where they were sleeping. The husband said he went down to investigate after the third time he heard a book hit the

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A Flame in the Ashes

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SpartanBlast

Literature

The Kracken

The KrackenContains soft vore, fatal instances for pirates, and a small, indirect mention of alcohol. Don’t read if you don’t like it.I loved the ocean, but I hated boats.Yet that’s what I was on, getting beaten every five seconds. I collapse onto the wet flooring, my hands bound to mast, feeling like my arms were going to pop out of my shoulders any second. The ocean in the sky drained itself onto the ship, hailing cries of thunder, as I knew the souls in Heaven were crying for those suffering below them. Sailors practicing their songs in a drunken state, under an influence I vowed never to take part of. I lived on a port town in the Cari...

Literature

The Son's Return: Part 1

The Son's Return: Part 1Contains soft, nonfatal, near size vore. Don’t read if you don’t like it.In this world, dragons ruled over everything. The land was divided between warlords, who served under their ruler: The Dragon King. Warlords would duel each other until one submits, where the winner would get a prize from the other of their choosing.Once, a warlord used his forces to destroy a small village that was unable to pay its tributes. Another warlord named Thunder, one of the highest and with close connections to the king, searched the rubble for survivors. The only thing he found was a 10-year old boy named Jacob, barely any life in h...

Literature

The Unbreakable Oath

Contains soft vore, minor blood, and suspenseful situations.Sequel to “Voices in the Night”It had been a few months since Jake had met Mimic. His friends, Ryan and Nick, never knew the truth, since the dragon did something to make them forget. He let Jake keep his memories, in exchange for making the unbreakable oath, where he would die if he revealed Mimic, or the existence of dragons. Long had the human been wishing to visit his dragon friend, but college came first.Jake finally graduated in June, and the first thing he did was tell everyone he was going on a camping trip.Bags packed, filled with whatever he would need, as he certainly w...

Liturature

Literature

Hunter and Dragon

"1500 silver per pound for dragonbane? That’s robbery." Lea tossed the dried leaves back onto the merchant’s stained burlap pile, her fingers brushing the grip of her Glock out of habit. The cramped black-market stall reeked of sulfur and desperation. The merchant—some Anthro snake-naga hybrid with a cataract-clouded eye—shrugged. "Take it or leave it, hunter. Purists bought up the last three shipments. Heard they’re seasoning their bullets with it now." His remaining good eye flicked to the Guild insignia on her coat. "Unless you’re in that business too." He said almost accusingly. Lea’s gut twisted. She exhaled sharply through her nose, deliberately loosening her grip on the Glock. "Just need it for research. Got a lead on some draconian poachers near the border." The lie tasted bitter, but the Guild had ears everywhere. Even here. The merchant snorted, scratching at his neck where a Purist-brand—a crude, scarred sunburst—peeked beneath his collar. "Sure, sure. Everybody’s

Literature

The Dragon Rider: Through misty valleys

Warning: lots of vore ahead. Don't like but still want to read it? Good luck!For another full hour the trio walked along the edge of the cliff, sometimes between the trees where the cliff was steep and the stones were loose. Most of the time they went along the path between the precipice and the tree line. While walking Aranam enjoyed the heat of the sun that was climbing higher in the southeast. Finally they reached a place where the cliff wasn't that steep and behind a large rock there was a path, leading down into a gap between the two cliff faces. The path was just wide enough for the two wolfas to walk next to each other and went stee...

Literature

A Casualty of War (Dragon Vore)

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS VORE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE VORE, I STRONGLY ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. As a Nord, I believe that Skyrim is rightfully ours. Who do those Imperial pigs think they are? Strolling into our province like they own it, banning the worship of our hero-god Talos and destroying the Nordic way of life. I hate them with a passion, which is why I joined the Stormcloaks, an army of Nords who share the same opinions as me. I enjoyed the life of a soldier, all the Imperials I could kill, all the mead I could drink and all the friends a man could wish for. The years I fought under the blue banner of the be...

More by MichaelLlewr

MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Lovely-day-for-fishing-378497587MichaelLlewr

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MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Meadowhawk-Winter-s-Bite-1128162678MichaelLlewr

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MichaelLlewr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/michaelllewr/art/Prince-Geldradith-66035179MichaelLlewr

Promoted Deviations

Literature

Manuary Prompts: Violence as First Language

“He is searching for something…” the old patheurian spacer muttered, one of his feline eyes milky - fur like the gray of a freighter's hull, his tail lashed the air as he downed his mug. “What makes you say that, old cat?” the human behind the bar asked. “I hear things…” the patheurian replied. “I hear rumors. Even through the vastness of space word travels. Look at what he’s taken… artifacts from civilizations long gone.” “He steals lots of things, he’s a pirate. It’s what they do.” the brown-furred Daedalian to the feline’s right said. The Daedalian resembled an Earth jackal, and wore the uniform of the planet’s Home Guard with a distinctly non-regulation Daedalian blade attached to her belt. “Mmm,” the Patheurian replied, “He does steal cargo, weapons, minerals… but he goes out of his way for artifacts. I think he’s trying to find what’s left of his home.” The Daedalian’s ears parted at thoughts of home: her people had lost theirs. Scattered among the stars, and those

Literature

Obsidian Hunger

Night drapes the city in black velvet, the kind that swallows sound and bends the moonlight into pale, trembling pools. She stands on the terrace of a crumbling tower, the wind tugging at her hair, her gown clinging to curves that burn beneath its silk. The scent of damp stone and night-blooming roses curls around them, heavy with promise. He appears from shadow, as inevitable as darkness itself. Horns gleam black in the pale light, sigils along his arms glowing faintly, reacting to her very presence. His eyes burn, coal-deep and infinite, and the air shivers as he approaches. “No more games,” he growls, voice velvet wrapped around steel. Every step toward her is measured, predatory, and yet unbearably deliberate. “Not tonight.” She swallows, pulse leaping, desire threading every nerve. “I am yours,” she admits, voice low and deliberate, no trace of hesitation—her claim, her surrender, her invitation all in one. He closes the distance in two long, sure strides, and the wind

Literature

Template SFDR #11: The Golden Dream PT3

Wednesday—it was slightly darker this morning than it usually is. That made getting up a bit more comforting, as I usually can’t stand the sun in the sky while getting ready to greet the day. I got ready a bit quicker today and turned on the TV, since I tend to still have a lot of time to spare before getting to work. This time, the news was… a bit interesting. The first story was about a man who was murdered in his sleep last night—but get this—he had two small punctures in his neck, as if a vampire had fed on him. Vampires are just a myth, of course, and there’s almost no way you could convince me otherwise… however, the reports said his body was very cold, and very little blood was found dripping from his neck. Strange. The second story was a little less interesting. A woman and her husband swore they were hearing books being flung across the room downstairs from where they were sleeping. The husband said he went down to investigate after the third time he heard a book hit the

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SpartanBlast

Literature

The Kracken

The KrackenContains soft vore, fatal instances for pirates, and a small, indirect mention of alcohol. Don’t read if you don’t like it.I loved the ocean, but I hated boats.Yet that’s what I was on, getting beaten every five seconds. I collapse onto the wet flooring, my hands bound to mast, feeling like my arms were going to pop out of my shoulders any second. The ocean in the sky drained itself onto the ship, hailing cries of thunder, as I knew the souls in Heaven were crying for those suffering below them. Sailors practicing their songs in a drunken state, under an influence I vowed never to take part of. I lived on a port town in the Cari...

Literature

The Son's Return: Part 1

The Son's Return: Part 1Contains soft, nonfatal, near size vore. Don’t read if you don’t like it.In this world, dragons ruled over everything. The land was divided between warlords, who served under their ruler: The Dragon King. Warlords would duel each other until one submits, where the winner would get a prize from the other of their choosing.Once, a warlord used his forces to destroy a small village that was unable to pay its tributes. Another warlord named Thunder, one of the highest and with close connections to the king, searched the rubble for survivors. The only thing he found was a 10-year old boy named Jacob, barely any life in h...

Literature

The Unbreakable Oath

Contains soft vore, minor blood, and suspenseful situations.Sequel to “Voices in the Night”It had been a few months since Jake had met Mimic. His friends, Ryan and Nick, never knew the truth, since the dragon did something to make them forget. He let Jake keep his memories, in exchange for making the unbreakable oath, where he would die if he revealed Mimic, or the existence of dragons. Long had the human been wishing to visit his dragon friend, but college came first.Jake finally graduated in June, and the first thing he did was tell everyone he was going on a camping trip.Bags packed, filled with whatever he would need, as he certainly w...

Liturature

Literature

Hunter and Dragon

"1500 silver per pound for dragonbane? That’s robbery." Lea tossed the dried leaves back onto the merchant’s stained burlap pile, her fingers brushing the grip of her Glock out of habit. The cramped black-market stall reeked of sulfur and desperation. The merchant—some Anthro snake-naga hybrid with a cataract-clouded eye—shrugged. "Take it or leave it, hunter. Purists bought up the last three shipments. Heard they’re seasoning their bullets with it now." His remaining good eye flicked to the Guild insignia on her coat. "Unless you’re in that business too." He said almost accusingly. Lea’s gut twisted. She exhaled sharply through her nose, deliberately loosening her grip on the Glock. "Just need it for research. Got a lead on some draconian poachers near the border." The lie tasted bitter, but the Guild had ears everywhere. Even here. The merchant snorted, scratching at his neck where a Purist-brand—a crude, scarred sunburst—peeked beneath his collar. "Sure, sure. Everybody’s

Literature

The Dragon Rider: Through misty valleys

Warning: lots of vore ahead. Don't like but still want to read it? Good luck!For another full hour the trio walked along the edge of the cliff, sometimes between the trees where the cliff was steep and the stones were loose. Most of the time they went along the path between the precipice and the tree line. While walking Aranam enjoyed the heat of the sun that was climbing higher in the southeast. Finally they reached a place where the cliff wasn't that steep and behind a large rock there was a path, leading down into a gap between the two cliff faces. The path was just wide enough for the two wolfas to walk next to each other and went stee...

Literature

A Casualty of War (Dragon Vore)

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS VORE. IF YOU DON'T LIKE VORE, I STRONGLY ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. As a Nord, I believe that Skyrim is rightfully ours. Who do those Imperial pigs think they are? Strolling into our province like they own it, banning the worship of our hero-god Talos and destroying the Nordic way of life. I hate them with a passion, which is why I joined the Stormcloaks, an army of Nords who share the same opinions as me. I enjoyed the life of a soldier, all the Imperials I could kill, all the mead I could drink and all the friends a man could wish for. The years I fought under the blue banner of the be...

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Deviation Actions

Manuary Prompts: Violence as First Language

Obsidian Hunger

Template SFDR #11: The Golden Dream PT3

The Kracken

The Son's Return: Part 1

The Unbreakable Oath

Hunter and Dragon

The Dragon Rider: Through misty valleys

A Casualty of War (Dragon Vore)

Manuary Prompts: Violence as First Language

Obsidian Hunger

Template SFDR #11: The Golden Dream PT3

The Kracken

The Son's Return: Part 1

The Unbreakable Oath

Hunter and Dragon

The Dragon Rider: Through misty valleys

A Casualty of War (Dragon Vore)

Worth hiding

Description

Manuary Prompts: Violence as First Language

Obsidian Hunger

Template SFDR #11: The Golden Dream PT3

The Kracken

The Son's Return: Part 1

The Unbreakable Oath

Hunter and Dragon

The Dragon Rider: Through misty valleys

A Casualty of War (Dragon Vore)