ch.1

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Hey! It is me, the author who decided that they had enough of just simping and decided to fuel to the already burning desire of fellow simps! The y/n IS male so do not be surprised if you are refered to as he/him. All constructive criticism is helpful but no down right rude comments. HTTYD DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. With that said I hope you enjoy!

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There were dragons when I was a boy. Fearsome fire-breathing reptilians with wings - well some had wings and others sprayed acid that could melt the meat right off your bones or sprayed boiling water that put you in such agony that if you survived, you would be the one to finish yourself off. Either way these monstrous beasts were not ones you should challenge.

I know you would not believe me after all, if such fearsome creatures roamed the land you now roam, contaminating every inch of earth, why is there no trace of them? Or better yet, where are they? They all flew, swam or crawled back to their homeland not leaving a bone, fang or any trace that they once inhabited this land. You are curious of my story? Ok, sit down, maybe with a snack and a blanket, plush or pillow to cuddle. I'll grab my own.

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This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridians of Misery. My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets. (A truly beautiful view.)
The only problem are the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have...

In the distance, not too far away I saw a dragon breathe fire onto a building, more specifically the door, that currently was where your cousin was hiding. A tired sigh escaped my lips as I hit the snout of a large dragon with small, pathetic wings.

-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have... pride. We're fearless. My name is Y/n Jorgenson, also known as Y/n the bloodthirsty. A title that I earned and carry with pride.

My attention is once again stolen as I see my twig-like cousin running and getting grabbed by his collar by the chief, Stoik the Vast. My uncle, his dad.

They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. A sigh came from my lips once more.
"Hiccup just stay out of trouble for tonight, please." I silently prayed to the gods that my cousin would not cause trouble tonight or at least not get injured.

I continued fighting dragons, if one got out of reach I would throw my axe, aiming for the wings or tail flaps. Either would prevent it from getting far. I left a trail of injured or dead dragons on the ground. Sometimes, if I stared at their forms for too long, I'd feel remorse but my tribe came first, feelings came second.

I spotted and attacked a zippleback, two gronkles and a deadly nadder. I heard Hoark say that he saw a monstrous nightmare. A dragon that lived up too its name, some stories claimed it was the pet of Hel; it could light itself on fire! but even this beast had a weak spot. Everything has one.

Yells of brave Vikings and roars of rabid dragons rang throughout the village.
"Hoist the torches!" Two large torches were raised and lit. Dragons started to swarm them, like a moth to a flame.
A dragon swoops down from the sky, almost majestic, before lightning a house. This is why we always need resources and why every building is new. Dragons destroy everything.

"FIRE!"
'yes, of course there would be fire, we are under a dragon attack.' I saw a group of 5 young teenagers charging towards the fire with water buckets in hand.

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