Conscripto 2020

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This fanfic is a cross between the manga “Boku no hero academia” the show, “How to Train Your Dragon” and then the game/books of Five Nights at Freddy’s. At the bottom of this fic will be the characters and a bit more description on who they’re supposed to represent.

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Time Taken: It took around three weeks to develop the characters and to write it out.

Word Count: 8308

Hashtags- #featurethis

Communities: Five Nights at Freddy's

Theme: Apocalyptic | Endless Winter

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Today, like all other days, was a day full of nothing but cold. The ice that lingered outside refused to give even a single drop of water when the sun crawled its way into the sky. The cheeky moon barely had seconds to hide before the sun would spot it. It was almost as if the sun was trying to chase the cold away as well when it spotted the moon, but at last, this endless winter was an unforgiving enemy that refused to bow.

The ground was smothered in snow, untouched by anything other than a singular pair of pawprints from a small rodent that dared to arise in the merciless pitch-black night. A hole in the snow surrounded by talon marks by the twisted trunk of the oldest chestnut tree in the forest suggested an altercation had occurred. With the tiny mouse paw prints having been cut short from its escape to the chestnut tree, it seemed obvious to the dragon that an owl had snatched up a poor mouse in the unforgiving night. He rose his head, sniffing for any signs of the owl nearby; but nothing remained. That very well could have been the last mouse; and it belonged what very well could have been the last owl. His beak slightly opened at the idea of a delicious bird, only to snap just as sudden with an unhappy singular long-winged flap from his striking red-scaled wings with darker circles imbedded in an asymmetrical pattern.

A loud growl singled from the beasts’ belly, demanding that he focus on the task at hand. He shook it off, warming himself in the process as he gave another light wing flap. The warm lasted but a second as he tucked his wings back against his body, the harsh winter nipping back at the action almost as if it was offended. Imagining what happened at night would not feed his belly today, nor would it be smart to stay in the open daydreaming. He shifted his body closer to the ground, scaled belly brushing against the endless white ocean of snow that never seemed to end. His talons felt frozen, numb from the hours of hunting that left him with the result of nothing but exhaustion. Like every day, the idea of leaving was becoming much more like reality than an illusion.

Unsurprisingly, he thought of retreating to the safety of his den once more. Food was far too scare nowadays, and it seemed like more dragons were converting to attacking other species for their scraps. The lingering words of his Handler seemed to mock him the more he pondered about what to do.

“Hunt and store for yourself while I’m gone for the next month, Hawks. The weather hasn’t turned like it should have, something is wrong.”

Why did his Handler leave? He didn’t know. He hardly understood anything he said; but that was okay because he brought warmth and food often. His departure from the small house they lived in was days ago, and it seemed like the longer he was gone the shorter the days grew. The crisp air that came with an overabundance of pollen and the call of the birds he loved so dearly never came. There were no babies this year, and if they were the unforgiving endless blizzard that conquered the land swallowed up the newborns into a cold, endless sleep.

This horrid winter had no end in sight. Blizzard after blizzard left him numb and achy, his red-spotted wings desperate to take off and head south but his body stayed planted on the ground. He wanted his human back, but he stood out like an ugly eye sore. A mango-patched dragon couldn’t hunt anything discreetly in the powder white landscape that summed up the last two years. He should have been flown south a year ago; but he loved his handler far too much. He couldn’t leave without him; he couldn’t leave him to die. However, he could feel that his body was growing colder. He could feel that moving his wings felt like he was trying to wave around frozen sticks. He was unsure if he could fly, and if he did, he needed to leave.

Hawks retreated to his Handlers old, dilapidated den. He found himself crawling into his large bed full of sheep wool and other pelts. He had no doubt in mind that this would have to be the last bit of warmth he would need before he took off and headed down south to escape this endless cloud of white. He simply felt too weak to go another day without food.

Morning came far faster than he expected, but as expected the warmth was just enough to make him feel like he wasn’t an ice cube. He gave a few heavy wing flaps, trying to escape from the sleep before he let out a soft and aggressive growl. He steadied himself tiredly, taking a few uneasy steps from the creaky wooden house before glancing at the windows.

Just white.

Nervousness washed over the dragon. Would he truly be able to make it that far? How far /was/ the south? Could it be days away? Weeks? What if he couldn’t make it? What if he froze along the way? What if his wings became too stiff? What if-

creeeeeeeeeak

The spikes along his tail shot up, his head snapping towards the door. He let out an aggressive warning, flaring his wings up instantly to make himself seem bigger as a nasty sneer lingered from his throat. His throat snapped shut on instinct, the secondary flap on the inside of his throat opening to let out the main gas that’s used to spark his flames, like flint on steel.

With no food in his belly to initiate the power needed, he was unable to emit flames. Even if he had the food, his body temperature was far too low to spark a flame that would last more than a second.

“Calm down, birdbrain,” the voice from the bear sighed heavily. Was it a man? Perhaps it was a bear? His fur looked as such, but the worn brown pelt hanging from his body seemed off. When he took a step inside, banging his heavy boots on the ground, the snow seeped inside like it too was trying to escape winter. A howling wind tried to follow, and it succeeded when he left the oak door wide open. He shifted towards the Deadly Nadder, only stopping when he saw its tail raise, spikes stiff and aimed towards him.

With little to no fear, he pushed off his head- no no no, the pelt. It was a human. Of course, bears couldn’t talk. The man had black hair, almost looking as burnt as his skin. The only visible part was his chest, neck, and his jaw that contained the horrid purple skin grafts that held onto his skin by gold metal staples. The burnt skin was not from a dragon, but from his own, “quirk.”

In recent years, quirks had start to become more dominate than rare and unusual. They had just suddenly started to pop up one day, crossing the globe the next. Humans began to awake with strange powers, some easily able to dominate the dragon species. This human’s power was called, “Cremation” which allowed him to cast his entire body on fire in powerful blue flames. However, the flames were damaging to his own skin, for it could not the power that came from him. The heat tore through his skin and muscle, leaving nothing in return. With the top half of the pelt off, his narrowed turquoise eyes focused on the golden eyes that belonged to the Deadly Nadder.

The dragon could feel himself trying to spark his flames once more, body jerking as he failed. His giant head snapped into focus to stare at him before his wings tucked back to his sides in defeat. He took a few bold steps towards the human, cooing. Recognizing the noises and having no energy to fight, the spikes lowered down slowly. He kept one giant eye on him, focused and unmoving as he advanced on the human suspiciously. The human made little to no movement, looking up at the dragon before lifting a hand.

The hand planted itself on the dragons light red scaled nose, right in the blind spot. His hand felt very warm; a threat for the never-ending fire that roared underneath his skin. The dragon let out a happy noise, and the human sighed in what seemed to be relief.

"M’glad you’re still okay. What’s wrong with ya?” He roughly poked the blind spot, but the dragon did not pull away. He leaned more into the warm hand, “you’re hopeless.” He sighed, “you could have frozen to death ya’know. You should have flown off… But you’re still here, so now we’re going to leave together.”

Hawks had no idea what he was talking about, but he his tone seemed determined. He trotted towards the door behind him, steadying himself on the busted and frozen porch. His long black talons latched onto the icy boards, jaw snapping a bit before his stomach rumbled. On que, the human opened up the pelt a bit more, exposing the many different colored pelts he had lining the inside of his outfit. He pulled out a small leather bag, the string hidden underneath a lynx pelt snapping as he tossed the bag out in front of the dragon. It landed in the snow, sinking down at a slow pace.

The dragon leaned forward after a moment, spines flattening down as his Handlers’ hand ran across them. He snapped his jaws around the back as soon as he smelt the chicken inside. He barely had to use his beak to tear it open before the dead bird tumbled out, it being an entire featherless raw chicken. A single crunch was all it made as the Deadly Nadder swallowed it whole. It went down smoothly, just like the spines he had.

Without warning, his Handler grabbed onto the base of his wing and hauled himself onto his back. The dragon was a bit caught off guard, but he stood still to let the man settled himself down on his back. Once more, there was little to no warning before the norriette tapped his foot against his leg, and, with newfound energy, the dragon burst from the confinements of the old log house. He refused to look back, and he heard the pleased sound of his Handler bursting into laughter at how fast the dragon was willing to up and leave to an area that only instinct controlled.

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The mango-colored dragons’ wings felt too stiff. They burned at the lack of exercise from the days with no food. One chicken wasn’t cutting it, but at least it made the pit in his stomach satisfied. The burning session never halted, nor did it stall the longer they flew. It seemed to spread from the base of his frozen wings across his back. It simply increased to the point where his wings stopped flapping and were loosely gliding. His feet tucked in a way that would represent more of a sick Nadder than anything. He might have been sick, but it was impossible to tell from the deathly cramps that had been pulsing through his body the last few days.

Simply said, he was overexerting himself with energy he simply didn’t have. They were lucky to get as far as they did, the weather having opened up a perfect flight pattern for the yellow dragon to soar. The path in front of them, like everything else, was a sheet of white stretching across the land. The trees that once towered higher than the mountains themselves crumbled at the ruthless winds. The howls had died down for the duo, bowing their respects for what might have just been the last two living things as far up north as they were.

Broken branches stretched across the land, only being visible from the branches that tried flutily to escape from drowning in the sea of white. Landing now could very well be a death sentence considering that the valley they were hovering over met the entrance to a vast grassland. The bird-like dragon couldn’t help but feel anxious the longer he flew, wings growing weaker the more he carried on.

It didn’t take much longer for the true dread to sink in. The wind started to mock them, blowing from the right to off balance him, only to start blowing from the left when he adjusted. His Handler moved a hand against his head, trying to reassure him with light and soothing head pats. He didn’t shake them off, but he did start to get lower to the ground incase he did end up crashing. Everything in his mind screamed for him to stop, to take a break.

The wind started to howl like a ruthless mutt panting for a treat, and while the worry settled into the dragon’s head, his Handler brought his attention back into the real world with more pats. “Hawks, look,” he nudged the right side of his face. The dragon turned, his eyes landing on a moving blur far off in the distance. “Head towards it.” The man demanded, and the dragon did as told.

The closer they got; the closer Hawks realized it seemed to be some sort of circle of people dancing. In the middle was what seemed to be a dead pile of livestock, all scrawny. The life had long drained from their faces, but the cold had preserved the pain that lingered in their expression. The circle had been flattened by what the dragon could only assume was the people themselves, but there was not a single trail from where the people came from. It was simply a circle full of about 8 people in very light clothing dancing and laughing like they were having the time of their lives.

Hawks found it safe to land besides the circle when his Handler demanded him too. His feet sank into the snow as he approached the people cautiously. Even with the dragon looming over them, the people paid them no mind.

“The prophet!” An older woman cried, hands in the air as she gave a light spin. She had no boots on, her feet as black as coal. Hyperthermia had kicked into her body, her fingertips cracked and as black as could be. The tip of her nose was bloody, ears crisp and black, icicles forming from anywhere liquid was on her. None of the people looked much different, all having light clothing, blackened limbs from the cold, and looking as if they were on the border of exhaustion.

His Handler jumped off his back, standing next to the dancers that were so entranced in dancing that they were unaware of his presents. They cried strange things thorough a broken language the dragon did not understand. They spoke of a prophet, crying for him to save them. It seemed like even the wind quieted down to hear their pathetic begs. His Handler grabbed the hand of a man who looked ready to fall over, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” He sneered.

The man couldn’t slap away his Handler. His black limb had been /hanging/ in his sleeve and he didn’t seem care as the limb cracked and fell, hanging limply in the norriettes arm. “Don’t touch me! The prophet! He’s coming to save us! To drag us away from winter! You’re unholy filth- get OFF!” He rammed his head into his Handler, the man crumbling to the ground seconds later, gasping in happiness, “he’s coming!” He cried in his delusion, "we have found the right place! The spirits were correct!"

Hawks watched in disgust as his Handler stepped away from the man who started rolling on the ground like an infant. He rolled face first into the snow before he was unable to get back up. He stilled not even a moment later, suffocating in the white ocean. His handler dropped the limb next to him.

“Listen my child,” a woman stated to his Handler without looking, “he is coming. us! Dance! Dance for our savior! Dance for three days and he will come to send us to a warmer place! The spirits say so!"

“Look,” His Handler scoffed, staring at the lump against her chest, “there’s no prophet, lady. Look, my name is Dabi. Let me take your kid, we’re going to a warmer place. A real warmer place." He stressed.

Hawks took a step forward, standing on the man who had just crumbled to the ground. He cocked his head at his Handlers sudden kindness. He never offered to do anything for anyone else. The child couldn’t be older than a few years old, but its body was stiffened when Hawks spotted it. The life barely clinging to its eyes as the infant tried so hard to hold on. The dragon could smell death lingering on the baby, its frozen limbs being a haunting reminder that even if his Handler planned to take the child, it would not survive.

“Touch me and I’ll kill you!” The woman cried, moving her kid closer to her chest. She stalled her dancing for a mere second before collapsing face first into the ground. His Handler jerked forwards to catch her, but she slammed too hard. Both were dead upon impact; the winter laughed at them.

Hawks let out an unsure coo. He was anxious to leave these insane people. Dabi glanced towards him, eyes unfocused as he watched the rest dance themselves in bliss. He moved over to his dragon, steadying his wings before leaping onto him. “Lets go.” He stated quietly.

Without another word, they once more lifted into the sky. The Deadly Nadder watched as large furry black, grey, and white wolves crossed through the snow towards the dancing group of the dead. He didn’t hear their cries; drowned by the wind as they exited the area.

They didn’t have to fly far before they found another group. This one was much larger, half crumbled to the ground while the others did haunting spins around them in a dazed state. Snow absorbed the song, so they didn’t need to hear their cries of some sort of prophet. The further Hawks flew, the more circles they found. They moved in haunting patterns, only to collapse as they ed by. It wasn’t until they found one completely dead before Hawks spotted a purple-tufted man standing at the center on top of the dead livestock each seemed to contain.

His Handler didn’t notice as the man disappeared into the blanket of white, and he didn’t plan to stop to investigate. A sinking feeling settled in his chest the farther he flew away. Hawks felt exhausted.

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His wings gave out as they entered a ghost town, long abandoned. Vikings were prideful; they never left their home. Weather it was the winter that drove them out, or the strange, “prophet” he didn’t know. Dabi stayed settled on Hawks back all the way until the crash, hoping off at the last second to avoid getting hurt as the dragon rolled into a ball of snow. He popped his head out a moment later, shaking the cold from his wings before leaping onto a pile of loosely attached logs. Dabi rose his hand to warn him, but the dragon ended up slipping off the wood. He was up on his feet a second later, angrily snarling at the wood before letting out a disgruntled noise and pushing his way into an open window large enough for him to slip into. His Handler entered through the window of the tiny house, just like him.

The room was almost empty, nothing remaining in the brick house besides a simple broken green couch, his Handler claiming it before he could. Hawks stared intensely at him, a sly grin popping up on the humans face, “what?” He questioned.

Hawks stamped his foot down demandingly, forcing himself to stay awake.

“My chair.” Dabi stated casually.

Hawks move closer, turning his head to stare at him with one eye. His head once more cocked in a birdlike fashion.

“No.” Dabi stated firmly, “stay.” He emphasized.

The dragon jumped onto the small couch, practically crushing the human in the process. The man let out a shrill cry, only to groan in pain when the dragon was completely sitting on him. With a light wing-flap, he tried to stall the couch as it tumbled over from the weight of the two.

Dabi chuckled as they fell over, pushing the dragon off him before he motioned to the couch, “you broke it.”

Hawks stared at him, then chirp-roared and stood back up, stamping his foot demandingly for him to move off the couch.

Sighing in defeat, Dabi removed himself from the couch, letting his dragon steal the small spot that he was far too big to fi the dragon that cuddled up against it. The human moved closer, eventually making his way into his tiny arms before his body started to warm up. His hands lightly sparked with flames as he steadied himself on warming his dragon friend. The hours of flying suddenly felt too tired for the two to bare, drifting off into a warm and quite sleep.

Quite until his sharp hearing picked up the sound of stamping feet from something outside much later into the day. The mango-color dragon lightly lifted his head from behind the couch, being careful of his personal heater- or his human in other words. The white was gone, swallowed whole by the looming blackness that settled over the area like a wolf on a carcass.

It was pitch black outside, and the cold was physically leaking in from the window. The windowsill was completely frozen, the door looked as if it had been superglued by ice, and he couldn’t help but to shiver at the wind that was singing its sad tune in the night.

Something was walking outside, and it seemed big. It had heavy footsteps, the ground crunching softly and slowly beneath what seemed to be four sets of heavy feet. To the sharp-sensed Deadly Nadder, he had an idea of what it was.

To him, it was simply another dragon. However, it seemed like something was off with it. It walked in an uneven manner. Instead of step-step-step-step, it was more of step-pause-step-pause-jerk-step-pause-step-pause-jerk. It leads him to assume the dragon was injured and being cautious, but why hadn’t he have flown south when this endless winter sunk itself into the land like the other wild dragons?

Standing up, the dragon exited the house with as quite as footsteps as he could manage. His claws made a steady tinking noise as they ran against the ground, and soon enough he reached the window, poking his head out.

Feet away, he was met with some unholy image of a Boneknapper that looked like a Deathgripper. Instantly, he knew something was wrong from the way its head turned almost robotically at him. It was a slow drawl, soulless black eyes focusing on him before lighting up into an unnatural shade of white. The dragons body shifted upright, taking a few jerky steps towards him like his body wasn't his own. The bones that were imbedded against each other grinded unnaturally against one another, then the dragon’s jaw became unhinged into a horrid gapping hole.

Inside that hole was the rotting corpse of what seemed to be an actual Deathgripper. Its jaw as broken as could be, half of its skull jammed into the bone-like suit, the other half of it hanging loosely to expose a frozen brain. It took an unsteady step before a high-pitched wailing arose from inside the dead creature, neck spasming from the inside to cause the dead dragons head to start pulsing.

It charged, body jerking violently to the side as its mouth shut to hide the dead dragon inside. The eyes blinked off, back to the black before it slammed against a wooden stake in the center of the building feet away from Hawks. The mango-dragon jolted back inside, squawking abruptly into an aggressive screech, wings flailing up and pushing himself backwards. His large feet landed inches away from his Handlers head, the man jolting awake and away just in time for the bone-suit to try and fling itself into the building.

Using the bit of warmth he had left, the familiar feeling in his throat bubbled and snapped before an array of fire came bursting from his maw. A steady stream of the hot material landing directly into the face of the bone-dragon creeping itself into the room. It let out an unnatural human-like dragon-cry before pulling itself back out the window. A quick weight was on the Deadly Nadders back, and the rough and hot fingers of his human gripped the horn-crown on his head. He ducked his head down, yelling at him to go.

Hawks did not move because the dragon was blocking the exit. Where the hell was he supposed to go? There was only one way to go!

“I SAID GO!” He yelled, pulling his right hand away to slap him roughly on his wing. The hand felt too hot, and it stung his wind.

So, he did go. Right into a brick wall. He slammed face first in a horrible attempt to break it open. His handler roughly jerked his head towards the door, “go!” He stated again. Once more, he did not move. He tried to shake the pain from his face, the bone-suit creeping back into the room by this point. A long bone-like scorpion tail rose, and the bird inside the dragon took off through the door. He didn’t spare a second when it came to the sudden pain from breaking open the front door, nor did he stall from his short run and leap into the sky.

In every direction there was another bone-like dragon. They moved unevenly like something he’s never seen before. His Handler must have noticed the way they jerked like a puppet on a string, because their movements were not fluent in the slightest. Hawks tried to get higher, to escape their sights but it seemed pointless. They craned their necks higher every time he moved higher, and his wings hurt too bad to go faster.

He was going to crash again. The unforgivable frozen ache that settled against the base of his shoulders had him crumbling like ash. He crashed into the snow only a few hundred feet from three more bone-suited dragons.

A low song emitted into the air the closer the bone dragons got. It was… Hypnotic.

It was warm, soothing like a mother.

It was calming, all his fears disappearing. He gave a loose wing-flap, the words of his Handler sounding like they were surrounded by water. His eyes started to dilated, everything become blurry. The figures of the bone dragons loosely fading out as they moved closer.

There were 8 of them at this point, but Hawks wouldn’t be able to tell. The last thing he was able to see was the shape of a man with a tiny bump against his chest. The sound of the song became louder, and it felt like he was lulled into a sleep that was unnatural, but soothing.

He barely felt as his own feet started to drag through the snow, the figure becoming much closer. His body drifted on a cloud as the song became louder, eyes dilated so far that he couldn’t make out anything but outlines. He didn’t even need to be forced to walk as he was coaxed by the shape of the man in front of him. It was soothing, the jerky figures of the bone dragons disappeared into a prowl on the town.

He finally snapped out of it when he was trapped in a large cage, his Handler standing besides it with chains against each limb. His eyes took a moment to focus, the feeling of peacefully floating on a soothingly cloud came crashing on him like the ocean itself had landed against him. His body felt heavy, and he let out a soft whine before settling himself down onto the ground. He felt a warm hand rubbing his back from in-between the bars he was currently leaning on. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. That hand moved lower, smoothing down the scales and spikes against his tail.

“The song from this dragon is intense, is it not?” An unknown voice questioned in a mocking tone, “even your dragon couldn’t get out of it. All that yelling was useless, was it not?”

Hawks turned his head to stare at a man covered in leather. He was a tall and slender man for being a Viking. His eyes were golden, a long leather bird mask with a golden zipper from the nose to the end of the beak was attached on his face. He had purple tuff attached to dark green patches of a thick leather jacket, a large metal belt tightly wrapped around his waist, and multiple pockets popped out from every loop. His pants were just as thick leather, and his boots went up to his knees. They were over his pants though, and had matching purple tuffs trailing along the rim and on the edges of his sleeves. He had thick white gloves, and a small pouch on his chest that contained a small baby Death Song dragon. The baby Death Song dragon had two large six-pointed butterfly-like wings with symmetrical patterns. There were three large circles full of multiple shades of blue on each wing. Patterns of red, white, and orange were mixed on her yellow wings. Her body was long and slim, with two tiny weak crippled legs forced against this man’s body. Heavy chains were imbedded on them, forcing the already crippled things to pull. She had two light blue fin-like objects poking out from her face, but they were frozen stuck. Two large horns on the top of her head poked at the mans chest, as did the broken horn on her nose.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” His Handler scowled, “everything is dying. The world is freezing over and we only have one way to go if we want to live- so why are you still here?”

The purple tufted-man laughed. He moved through the cave they were presently in, the walls dark, but large wooden sticks ablaze were lined against the walls. Hawks didn’t need to turn to feel the breeze from the entrance, but he did look to see that this cave was long, and it went down deep. A lone cry from a small dragon echoed through the tunnels. It sounded in pain, but instead of wanting to help, Hawks wanted to feast.

“Haven’t you noticed that this sudden winter seems almost… fake? I’m waiting it out. This winter was made to wipe out the dragon species! Humans will rule, and you need to know what side you’re on, kid.” The man moved closer to his Handler, his Handler standing up to glare daggers at the purple-man.

“A fake winter; what are you, stupid?” He scowled, “you’re going to sit in this weather and wait? You’re an idiot; deranged. Where will you get food?”

The man smiled, the only indication being his cheeks raising from underneath the mask, “I claim of providing freedom for the people who live nearby. A prophet to take them to the promise land. I collect them when done; eating whatever remains.”

Dabi shook his head, slightly disgusted, “you’re a cannibal, but even you know you can’t go walking outside for long periods. Even I have a fire quirk and I can barely stay outside for more than 7 hours.”

“That’s why I used dragons.” The man stated blandly, shrugging it off, “I use what’s left and create what I’m calling a bone-a-tronic. See, the only dragons who stayed in this area were either sick, were nesting with eggs, or had a human. I simply use my Song dragon to lure them in, then with a bit of reconstructing… I can make the perfect puppets. See, I learned that using the souls of the anguished can deal a great amount of energy in the afterlife. It took a lot of experimenting, but once you attach the anguished soul to an object, it stays there forever.” He moved closer, but not close enough for his Handler to reach. He rose his arms in the empty cave, erupting into laugher. Hawks felt tired trying to listen.

“Take a metal rod and shove it into a dragon’s spine! It’s /so/ simple! They can’t move, and they die slowly; helpless. They die feeling angry, and with a bit of…” He ran his hands through his dark hair, sighing peacefully, “reconstruction… you can really accomplish anything. Do you know of witchcraft,” the man paused, “I’m sorry I never got your name?”

“I didn’t offer it.” Dabi bit back.

“Well, do you know the most anguish a dragon can feel is when they gain a human partner? You force a rod into their back so they can’t move, then you leave them for dead. All while we take their pretty little dragonrider and torture the hell out of them. They feel helpless, and they try so hard to save them, but they are paralyzed. Their spirit attaches to the rod, and with a bit of witchcraft we can transfer that soul over to the pole. Steadily, you chip away at the flesh and mold them into the perfect shape, leaving just the head and back for attachment purposes. Gain a fresh load of bones, which is nothing when you have people dancing to their graves; and you have mindless little puppets. It truly is a wonderful idea, is it not? We don’t need dragons!”

“You’re insane.” Dabi stated with pure awe, “you’re delusional.”

“Am I though?” The man questioned, running a hand across his baby dragons head, “I have done it successfully 8 times before. Though, my first experiment had far too much free will. A small price to pay when it came to removing my other cognitive abilities in favor of less will, but you do what you do.”

The mans eyes landed on the Deadly Nadder, “it looks like that will soon be nine, will it not?”

“Touch my dragon, and I’ll burn you alive.” Dabi stated with intense aggression, eyes locked onto the man who wouldn’t even look at him.

“You’re bound by too many chains. What will you do?” The man questioned mockingly, looking at the two. Hawks looked over at his human unsurely, his arms and legs pulling against the chains. Enough to reassure his dragon, but not enough to open or move in front of the large box cage. Hawks felt weak, like he wanted to roll back over and fall asleep. He settled down and made no effort to move.

Dabi narrowed his eyes further, “my dragon is an idiot, you don’t want him anyway.”

“An idiot means he’ll listen. We just need to remove a bit of skin and he’ll be perfect will he not, Eri?” The man questioned his baby dragon, smoothing over the frozen appendages she had on her face. The dragon cooed, leaning against the warmth in an almost scared manner. He stroked her for a moment, just long enough to where she started to sing. The warm soothing voice soon started to wash over the mango-colored dragon and he was lulled back into a peaceful state of mind. Long enough to be placed into a calming sleep. A sleep that he wouldn’t have minded sinking into forever.

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When Hawks finally came out of his song-lured daze, a sharp pain was settled in his back. His wings felt limp, and his body felt numb yet on fire at the same time. He was laying in the center of the cave, his Handler tied up with thicker chains nearby. The dragon let out a soft coo, trying to rise up to move towards him. His body didn’t budge, his torso barely moving. Panic instantly arose in the dragons mind as he tried to see what was wrong with him. His eye glanced at his body, but there was nothing wrong.

He gave it another try, a shooting pain settled in his spine and making him freeze. He let out a pained whine, settling back down in confusion. He stared at his lifeless legs, his wings loosely laying at his sides when he tried to move them. He looked back towards his Handler, the man looking pained and worried at the same time. The norriette was biting his lip nervously.

The mango-colored dragon adjusted himself a bit when he heard the soft footsteps of the other human, soon followed by multiple other clanking pairs of feet dragging something. The Deadly Nadder was unable to catch a proper glimpse as whatever walked behind him… Stayed behind him. There wasn’t much to say as he tried to disappear in the stone while his mind did loops in attempt to figure our why he was unable to move. As the footsteps started to get further away, he tried to shift his body once more. A shooting pain pulsing through his body when he turned a bit too far and he let out a loud cry. It felt like something was trying to shove out of his skin.

“Stop moving!” He heard Dabi shout at him, and he let himself fall back down with a weak huff.

The single pair of footsteps came closer from the exit of the multiple pairs of dragon feet. The purple-man popped up in his vision, “hello my little pretty, are you ready to start?”

The red-winged Nadder tried to nip at the man in one swift jerk of his head. He barely had to slip back before he was out of reach, turning to look Dabi. He moved closer, and the mango dragon tried to jolt towards him with an aggressive hiss. His body didn’t react, but he verbally let him know that he did not appreciate it, and would attack if he got too close.

The mans eyes stayed locked onto his Handler, and a sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he stepped closer. The dragon let out noise after noise as he attempted to thrash and get closer, but he barely moved an inch, the pain being too much to bear and left him settled down in a panting mess. Panting far too much earlier than he usually would have.

“Overhaul, you don’t gotta do this.” Dabi stated in what seemed to be a warning, but at the same time it was enough desperation to put him on the edge. He watched the man push his back against the wall to get further from him.

“Tell me your name and I might just give you a few final words.” The man, Overhaul the dragon assumed, spoke darkly, "I like to name the dragons after their handlers after-all."

“Fucking, Dabi.” His Handler stated testily, jerking a bit away when he reached a gloved hand to cup his face. If looks could kill, Overhaul would be dead. The man let out a very pleased laugh.

“Dabi,” Overhaul spoke, the word gleefully rolling off his tongue, “one minute.” He spoke in a honeyed tone, moving closer to the chains before undoing all but the one wrapped around loosely his waist. His Handler was in front of him before he knew it, and he let out a soft and happy coo at him being closer.

Hawks had gone days without food. Hawks had found himself frozen in place more than once, scales sticking to the ground and blood pouring out of the wound when he pried his feet off. Hawks had felt himself growing weaker as the days ed by. Hawks knew he was already on the verge of death before taking the last bit of strength he had to attempt to fly to a new life.

A land with warmth and food. A land where he would not be hungry. A place he could find more dragons; some like him. Before winter settled in and took over. Fighting the weird Boneknapper look-a-like suit was pushing the strength he gained from that singular bird he had scarfed down too far. The small thrashing as he tried to scoot closer to his Handler was enough to waste any energy he had left. He barely lifted his head up, breathing becoming much more labored and much harder than it should have. The air that reached his lungs felt sharp, his eyes felt heavy.

His Handlers hands worked themselves against the scales against his face. They felt hot, but for once he did not lean into the warmth. A lazy sigh settled into his voice as he let the stiff muscles he had loosen. He felt content and safe, the looming winter finally settling over him. He could feel his eyes becoming too heavy, and with little struggle he let the winter finally take ahold of him.

The howling winds screamed with delight when the dragons chest stopped moving. For weeks it had been begging to take him. The dragon had refused, wanting nothing more than to be with his Handler. He wanted to leave so badly, but he waited. A ruthless battle that ended the same way it did with every animal in the land.

With every buck. With every wolf. With every bird. With every mother. With every child. With every father. With every baby. With every adult. With every senior.

This would be the year that would wipe the planet out just to start a new. A ruthless winter that would never end.

Dabi watched the light fade from his dragon’s eyes. The light that had once been so afraid of him, only to become overly attached. Sometimes the light was mad, but other times it was happy. He had hoped with every ounce of his being that his dragon had taken off and finally left him for dead like he had done so many times.

His stupid, idiotic, imbecilic scaled bird. Who was he kidding? Dabi knew that he would never have been able to complete their journey to the possible destination they were headed to. He was surprised he hadn’t crashed before-hand, gliding being the biggest factor they had. The wind that ran through his pet’s scales had to have been freezing him from the inside out the higher they were. He was too weak to make it, and Dabi knew that.

The norriette leaned down, pressing his face against his unnaturally cold dragon. He sighed quietly, wrapping his arms around his limp neck. The shuffling noises of the bone-a-tronics that this Overhaul man had created came back into view. Dabi didn't look as they got closer.

“No.” Overhaul stated when they tried to move closer to the dead dragon, “he’s not dead yet, you can't take him.” He stated blandly, snapping his fingers in their face. He grabbed a long thick stick that was leaning nearby, moving closer to the biggest one and slamming it on his boney skull. The bone dragon jerked, stalling to stare at him. Overhaul repeated his command for them to leave, but the first one moved closer. Overhaul swung once more, slamming the stick against the bone snout.

The dragon stared up at him after the action, standing taller than him. Two specks of white flashed in the boney beasts’ eyes, unfocused. The dragons head jerking to the side to look at him, eyes rolling like two balls in its socket before his neck stretched down, mouth clamped down on Hawks leg to drag him back to the stockpile.

Overhaul once more struck the dragon in anger, "he's not dead yet!" The bone dragon turned towards him, only for it to unhinge its jaw and bite him and his baby Song Dragon in half.

Dabi was completely stunned as they landed so hard so suddenly. They didn’t even cry at first, the Viking having been split in half. It took Dabi but a mere minute to see that the tiny butterfly-like dragon had been perfectly spared on his chest. Her tiny body having been curled up perfectly to avoid the large chomp of the monster that contained the mindless zombie of a dragon. Overhaul too, was currently still alive. He let out a choked cry, hands shakily reaching at his waist and feeling nothing but soft warm organs.

Dabi didn’t try to stop them as they dragged the corpse of his dead dragon off into a deeper part of the cave. He swallowed hard, glancing at the chain on his stomach before easily slipping out. He took a few steps closer to the delusional man known as Overhaul before lightly taking the baby dragon off of his chest and holding her closely. What did he call her? Eri? He avoided Overhaul when he reached at Dabi, "help me." He pleaded, blood gurgling from his mouth in panic.

Stepping away from the corpse and the half-dead man who cried and screamed as he got dragged off minutes later by another bone-a-tronic, he ran his finger against the frozen folds against the baby dragons face. He watched as they were quick to open once warm, and she let out a delightful chirp before humming a tune. Glancing outside in the dark abyss, he looked back towards the dragons that were nothing more than mindless slaves, and the ruthless winter.

He would take his chances with the weather before they considered him dead, plus he wouldn't have to hear the shrill cries coming from Overhaul. His voice suddenly got heavier, "no- no! Don't climb into me- you're- ugh- eurk- grfllll..." Dabi listened just for a moment as it sounded like one of the clingy bone dragons was trying to crawl into the man. Was it trying to possess him or something? He shivered, his heart feeling heavy as he slipped the dragon against his chest and safe in his shirt. He was sure this walk would be his last days.

Dabi fought tooth and nail against each day he trudged through the winter. Every moment he found the corner of his eyes freezing over, he found shelter. Every moment he felt his fingers and toes feel too cold for it to be healthy, he found food. He could occasionally feel the little dragon in his shirt squirm, but he kept her there. He didn't loose his mind because he talked to her constantly. He didn’t quite understand why he kept her, but he didn’t plan to let her die alone like that. Every dragon deserved to go peacefully, not lure others to their deaths like his dragon. It seemed that keeping her was a good choice, because every time something went wrong, he found what he needed.

Yet, Dabi felt himself settle into the grief the longer he walked. For days, all he could think about was all the interactions he had with his pet. Weather it was the bad times, like when he first learned that Deadly Nadders can’t eat cattle and he got vomited on, or the good times like when he learned that his dragon loved cuddling. There were fun interactions too, like when his dragon loved kicking him out his seat to get the most comfortable spot in the house. He was an attention hog as well, enjoying basking in the looks from others due to his unique colorization whenever they were in town.

Days turned into weeks that went surprisingly well. Weeks turned into months very quickly, but it seemed like hope was allowing him to escape to the far south. The winds still mocked him, but the blizzards and snow seemed to be getting thinner. It wasn't until his luck turned when his food started to get eaten. He had enough food to survive himself for two months, but his rations were down to nothing thanks to the little baby on his chest digging through the inside pockets. He was hoping to have gotten there by now, to hunt for new food for him and Hawks. He wanted to hunt for something fresh and not frozen. It wasn’t until the snow was barely up to his ankles when he reached the top of a cliff that overlooked a massive valley. Horror sunk into him as he saw what was nothing more than a graveyard.

Thousands of dragons laid waste in the valley, piled on top of each other and persevered in snow. Some eaten apart by other dragons, others with loose bones or wings jutting out. They laid lifeless, forever still like a statue. Most were laying flat on the ground, but all were laying in pairs. Some were in group clusters, cuddled up for warmth that didn't save them.

It was at that point when Dabi realized that he was as far south as he could have gotten. The warmest point on the planet, rumored to be filled with thousands of tropical fruits, dragons, and the warmest waters to exist.

And that place was frozen.

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Extra character description, plus who they’re supposed to represent!

Hawks is a Deadly Nadder dragon with light red wings that have a darker shade of red in a circular pattern scattered around his wings. His feet, beak-like maw, and the bottom of his tail is tinted a darker shade of red that blends into mango-gold shade of his skin. At each blended spot is a small scatter of red dots. His belly is a lighter shade of mango, and his horns are a light shade of tan. This dragon has multiple leather straps attached around the base of his wings, his upper chest, lower stomach, then his neck. In the center of his back is a small saddle with three small bags. He is representing the Boku No Hero Academia character: Hawks, and he is representing a dragon from How to Train Your Dragon.

Dabi is an adult Viking with a slim frame. There are multiple purple-blue burn marks littering his arms, legs, chest, neck, and the lower half of his jaw. The most noticeable markings are the two just below his eyes. He is covered in multiple pelts of fur, everything ranging from wolf to bison. Underneath his multiple pelts are multiple bags full of stolen goodies. He has so many pelts on his body that he looks like a bear, and seeing his skin is almost impossible. Dabi has the ability to use blue flames anywhere on his body from his quirk. He is also from Boku No Hero Academia, and he is representing a Viking from How to Train Your Dragon.

Overhaul is supposed to be a mixture of three of the characters. Besides his name (BNHA) he has Grimmels (HTTYD) ambition to kill all dragons, but he’s using William Afton’s (FNAF) intentions to kill dragons. Instead of using real dragons like Grimmel does with his Deathgrippers, he uses only one real dragon and the rest are metal. The metal dragons are from bone like a Boneknapper. Overhaul is a tall and slender man, with golden eyes, and a leather bird mask with a golden zipper from the nose to the end of the beak attached on his face. He has purple tuff attached to dark green patches of leather, a large metal belt, and multiple pockets along his waist. His pants are a thicker leather, and his boots go up to his knees, over his pants, and has matching purple tuffs trailing along the rim and on the edge of his sleeves. He has thick white gloves, and a small pouch on his chest for his baby Death Song dragon.

Eri is a baby Death Song dragon with large butterfly-like wings that have symmetrical patterns. She has 6 points on each wing, with three large circles full of multiple shades of blue on each wing. Patterns of red, white, and orange are mixed on her yellow wings. Her body is long and slim, with two tiny weak legs with chains imbedded on them. She has two light blue fin-like objects poking out from her face, but they remain frozen inwards. She has two large horns on the top of her head, and a broken horn on her nose. She is from (bnha) and her dragon is from (HTTYD). She is half-representing Circus Baby from FNAF, but she doesn’t give the, “kids” their life. Instead, she lures them in like Baby and lets the, “Scooper” do the rest.

There is a total of 8 robotic dragons, all from various children from the FNAF series with the names of Overhauls men. All of the robotic dragons look like Deathgrippers, but they’re built artificially from bones /like/ a Boneknapper. Inside each robotic Deathgripper is a small exoskeleton made from actual metal that contains the soul of the children from FNAF. The Missing Children, Charlotte Emily, and Michael Brooks are imbedded into the dragons. They do not want to kill the Nightguard, they’re more like the puppets that appear on the nightguards chest. They pop in, beg to be taken, and when the nightguard falls asleep they climb into his body to escape. They want to escape, so they try to attach themselves but they’re too big and end up killing their escapes very brutally.

The snap! (FNAF)

I would have loved to go into detail about Overhauls guts basically being spewed everywhere, but sorry! Community guidelines. I wanted to try and implement a bit more FNAF since the time zone wasn't really... Modern if you get what I'm saying. So I tried to reference "purple guy" and the "spring-lock trap" ensuing from the, "children"

Aka: Overhaul getting chomped by one of the dead dragons. The dragon being the trap, more or so like the bite of '85 than the spring-locked trap, but I tried.

Death Circle (FNAF)

This was another case of me wanting to implement FNAF. So I kinda went off the idea that people felt, "drawn to the location by unnatural forces" (in the books) more than I referenced the game. Them dancing to their graves was just one of the creepy ideas, but the whole idea of them being drawned to that spot was because of the, "purple guy"s power.