Dragon Ocs Novels & Stories

On prom night, she finally had him. One perfect, breathless night with the son of the King Alpha — the boy she’d loved from afar for years. She woke up the next morning a completely different Omega. Softer. Heavier. Plus-size. When she went to him, trembling with hope, he looked her up and down and laughed. “I never slept with a big pig like you.” Her heart shattered. Then the new student arrived — the son of the King Dragon. Cold, powerful, and dangerously interested. And when the pregnancy test turned positive… he didn’t hesitate. He took what the Alpha threw away. Now the rejected Omega belongs to the Dragon. And the Alpha who discarded her is about to learn what it means to los

Dragon starts rolling up his sleeves, revealing faded Calavera tattoos, “Chain’s fine. Got a tension tool in my box. I’ll fix it antes de que (before) sundown.” Poking at the rusted exhaust, “Pfft. Tool ain’t magic, kid. And this exhaust? Sounds like a dying chupacabra.” Dru stifles a laugh. I shoot her a glare, but I'm trying to hide my own smirk with my beard. Dragon shakes his head, then glances up towards Dru on the porch, “¿En serio (Seriously) You think I’d let her hurt? I seen what happens when you don’t guard your crew.” Dragon rolls up his sleeve further, revealing a tattooed date—“2003–2019”—inked beneath the Calavera’s hollow eyes. The numbers curl like smoke from a prayer candle,

The divine dragon soared into the sky, unstoppable. Countless bolts of lightning were instantly wiped out under the dragon's presence. The dragon pierced through the thunderclouds, tearing through them and blasting them apart. "Ah!" Oscar was sent flying. Blood sprayed across the sky. He took a heavy blow, and on top of that, was hit with lightning backlash. His injuries were serious. Like a kite with its string cut, he dropped straight down. With a loud bang, he slammed into the ruins. Gideon waved a hand, and the rubble flew off, exposing Oscar.

Up above, the holographic scoreboard in the sky flipped to reveal updated scores — Ravens 41 Dragoons 36 — But the Dragoons were nonplussed. There was plenty of time for them to make up the difference. And besides, they had a plan to stick to. “Alright, form up,” ordered Mad Monk. “We’re off to take Assembly. Lead the way, Dorf.” “You got it, boss.” Big Dorf then blasted off towards their next targeted zone, though they had to pass through Living & Social. That zone had relatively low buildings and offered zero cover, so they moved through it as fast as they could.

It seemed Oswald intended to manipulate the situation to extract more money from him, given his prolonged silence. Oswald got to the point, "I know, but I'm in a financial bind right now." Draco snorted. "I'll give you 280,000 dollars once it's done." Oswald chuckled. "But I believe your worth exceeds that, doesn't it?" Annoyed, Draco reprimanded, "You're simply identifying those involved. How much do you need for that?" With that, he abruptly ended the call, fearing Oswald might know too much.

Then he looked at JD and started explaining. “Have you heard of the Olympus Gang?” he asked him. JD’s face show recognition then frowned. “Olympus Gang is widely known in L.A. They are illegally selling guns and drugs on the state. Last week, one of their transactions got interrupted and most of them die. It circulated among the members that a Black Dragon is the one who killed them. So they started tracking you down and found you here in Korea. They followed you here.” Edward explained. “How did you know about it? Are you members of the gang too?” Yosef-hyung asked. Edward looked at him and answered.

Draco's deathly aura when he entered the van indicated he was in one of his worst moods, which was very surprising considering he had been with the lady boss just a few moments ago. Let's face it, Draco had finally been showing human emotions these past few weeks ever since he met Miss Jones. The man was previously like a robot who, apart from his deathly glares and his signature frigid scowl that always adorned his face, showed no emotion that could tell you what he was thinking or feeling inside.

She glided lightly over the ground, her magic both elegant and devastating. On the far flank, Oscar, the second son of the King of Dreadmoor — a mountain of a man — slammed his fists into the ground. The earth split beneath the Dark Knights’ feet, jagged pillars of stone erupting to trap and crush. His dark armour gleamed, his black eyes blazing with controlled rage “Try getting through this, you bastards!” he growled.

It was worth taking a chance that getting enough flaming oil around them would work. Ghaeron did not need oil. The Dragon swept over the group, flaming, but barely singed the outer edges thanks to the mystical shield. He made a second attempt with no better result. With a roar of frustration, he landed behind the attacking Moran’kaar and swept his foreleg through the rearmost members. Their misshapen bodies were knocked aside and torn asunder, some of them twitching unnaturally though they were in two or more pieces. The Dragon’s second attack was forestalled by the Alva’himar, who sent a volley of energy at him. Flinching, he spat flame in their direction, knowing they would deflect it but

A low, ancient sound that promised ruin. Her last prey still lingered in her mind, dull and uninspiring. “Mother of Deserts… please!” Argonios, Dragon Slayer of Vamidr, a legend among mortals, fell to his knees. The great sand expanse swallowing the sound of his plea, his voice broke like reed in the wind. Tears streaked through the dust on his face, molten sand clung to his armor that has been half-melted from the heat of her power.