#westergaard brothers

[simpofhans]

Young Lars bc his child self deserves love 💕💕💕💔💔😭😭😭😭 + IVE NEVER SEEN A SINGLE YOUNG!LARS DESIGN IN THE FANDOM LIKE??!!! 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[pirate-of-the-southern-isles]

WIP-Wheneverday

@moriche tagged me, I am tagging @annaofthenorthernlights and @titanicchickandhearses!

I didn't see any conditions regarding lenght, so I will just toss in half of the chapter!

Context: 4 year ago pirates have raided the castle in the Southern Isles, stole everything that wasn't bolted down - though some of them were prepared and came with crowbars - and also Hans. Who is now a pirate captain with his own vessel, the "Black Sheep". Right now, him, Layla (who took him in back then) and Bernard (mutual friend) are in the Republic of Pirates for a short shore-leave, but they gotta pick up the pace, as they are racing against each other to find a Big Treasure.

The first part of the race was won by Bernard. He got the first clue to the Big Treasure but he didn't manage to open it. So when Layla and Hans broke into his house and tried to steal it, he gave them a choice: either you open it for me or I will tell captain Rogers (Layla's father, Hans' former captain) you have tried to rob me.

Hans, knowing what Rogers senior thinks about stealing from a fellow pirate, having an overall bad luck recently, stressing with Arendellians on his deck and being really sleep-deprived, got scared and is having a nice, little panic attack with PTSD flashbacks.

Roland is the 9th in the line brother.

Bones is a dog. Dalmatian.

*

“Damn it!” Hans smashed his hand against the wall. “Show me again, there must be something we are missing!”

“Hey, easy, easy…”

Easy, sure. If his usual problems weren’t enough, now he will also, apparently, have to deal with captain Rogers. And if he didn't want something, it was to have to explain himself! There were already plenty of things that he didn't particularly want to share with him, but he always somehow managed to get them out of his mouth anyway.… but not this one. No. This one he will be allowed to just forget and there will be no problem if only he will open this box. What’s the issue with opening something like this? In the end, they may just crush it like a stubborn walnut. But then Bernard will definitely tell on them. He will probably tell anyway, blackmailers always tell in the end, he knew it better than he would ever wish for. You do what they want and they will go and tattle anyway, just to see you squirm. He had enough experience to know better already…

The shadows were back in his mind and started lurking around the overloaded with stress and lack of sleep neurons. He was suddenly hearing those familiar laughs, he could smell that obnoxious, sickening salt in the air.

No. Quiet. He had to conceal it. Damn, he should have gone to bed at a normal time last night, especially if he knew there would be so much to do today… he knew a human brain can be tricky if it won’t get enough sleep, why would he do that to himself again, just please, let those damned laughs be silenced…

“No ”easy”, give me that!”. He grabbed the box from her and shacked it vigorously. “There must be a way…!”

“If you break it…” Bernard just gave him a side-eye.

“Be quiet!” Hans snarled; his hands started to tremble. “I have to focus!”. He rattled it again. When nothing happened, he took his knife again and began scratching violently at one of the corner fittings, clearly trying to pry or tear it off. His breathing started to get fast.

“Hans…?” Layla looked at him, alarmed.

“How much time?!”

“Hans…”

He turned his head towards the clock on the wall.

“Twenty five minutes, I can do this!”, he muttered, going back to scratching. “In the end, we can pull those hinges out. And if not, we can try to carve around every layer of this wood, we will eventually get to the needle inside, I mean…”

“There may be something there to protect it”, his friend told him, carefully picking her wording. “Under the lid. Who know what happens once you destroy it. Remember the seven seals?”

“Don’t you remind me of those seals!” he yelled, on a strangely high-pitch note; his hand went off the course and he accidentally ran the blade across his fingers. “Ouch!”

“Oh. Let me see…”

“No!” He grabbed the box again. “I will open it!”

“You will open it in a second, but first let me patch you…”

“Layla!” He turned to her, gaze completely wild. “Let me work!”

Now she was absolutely sure – something was very wrong. And Bernard also saw it, because he rose up from his armchair and moved towards them. Hans was now shaking all over, blood trickling down from his fingers, dripping on a desk. It was only a matter of time before he hurt himself again.

“Give me that”, Bernard ordered, reaching for the Compass.

“No! I still have time!”

“You have time, but you are not able to do it. Give it to me.”

“I am more than able! Like you would know!”

“Hans. Give. Me. That.”

“You told me to open it, I will open it!”

“And now I tell you to stop.”

“You’ve promised me two hours!”. He jumped up from the chair so hard he almost knocked it over. “Not less! It is not fair!”

“Amigo.” From the back, Layla took a step closer and put her hand on his shoulder. “Leave it”.

“I… I am able…” He hugged the Compass close to his chest. “Just give me those twenty minutes!”

“We are not getting anywhere this way.” It took only one leap from Bernard to get to him, grab in half and lift over the floor. “Give me that!”

“Let me go!” Hans immediately started to struggle, but none of his moves could be considered as coordinated. It looked more like a desperate attempt to escape from an animal that was about to be torn to shreds by a predator.

“Give it to me!”

“Bernard”, Layla yelled as she tried to stop it. “Don’t…!”

“Let me go, Roland!”

Everything in the room went still. It appeared as even the clock stopped ticking. The wind outside went quiet. The only sound there were Hans’ panicked, shattered breaths.

Layla looked at Bernard in a way that would probably made someone with less guts run away. She did it very rarely - only when the situation, in her opinion, became serious. The big pirate swore under his breath and put his friend back down, loosening the grip. Hans swayed dangerously, as if he couldn't quite feel his legs. There were already visible traces of blood on his shirt. But was still clutching the Compass.

“Amigo. Hey.” Layla came and embraced him lightly. “It is alright. You are with us. You are in the Republic. Nothing bad is happening. Everything’s alright. Breathe with me.”

Hans leaned with his chin on the top of her head and tried to follow, but lungs didn’t seem to cooperate. Not them, not the brain. His arms fell to his sides. For a moment he was absolutely sure he could smell odour of salt, as it was soaking everything it touched down to the last particle and felt nothing like a real sea.

“I… I was almost at it…” he stuttered quietly.

“We will tackle it later. Breathe.”

“He will tell…”

“He won’t tell anything. Right?” She threw Bernard another stern look, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

“Of course not”, he assured, wondering if he should even be here or if it would be better to leave him alone for now. “I was just saying things, Westergaard. Think about it. Have I ever tattled on you?”

Hans had to admit that, by heart, the answer was “no”. Even when he crashed the “Bad Coin”’s broadside with his bowsprit, Bernard didn’t say a word to Rogers. Sure, he repaid him by damaging the part of the “Black Sheep”’s bow by “accidentally” shooting it from one of his cannons, but…

“And even if I would, so what?” Bernard continued. “I must remind you, who are we talking about. We are not in the Southern Isles. And he is not your father.”

If he hoped that these words would calm him down, he was sorely mistaken. Hans just blinked a few timed and grabbed the Compass with his sliced open hand so hard he felt a shot of pain up in his elbow.

“Bernard…” Layla was clearly speaking through the gritted teeth. “Be so kind, go and make us some tea, alright?”

“I am trying…”

“Go. And. Make. Us. Some. Tea.”

He could argue. Heck, maybe he should! He was in full right to just throw them out the door. He could even get seriously mad. After all, they were the burglars here, they had no right to make any demands for his tea.

But he didn’t want to make already bad situation worse, so he went to the kitchen. Layla, on the other hand, led Hans to an armchair and made him sit down.

“Everything’s fine”, she whispered calmly, as she put her hand on his neck. “You know you are not in trouble. No one will send you back. You won’t go back home. I’ve promised you, remember? I won’t let anyone take you back.”

He didn’t answer, but the trembling was slowly going away.

“I won’t go back”, he repeated. “I can never go home.”

“And you won’t. And now take it easy. Inhale and exhale.”

Bones – now absolutely content and friendly – approached and put his head on Hans’ lap. He whined quietly.

“See? Even the dog is promising you.” Layla scratched the beast’s ears. “Everything is fine now”, she repeated more seriously. “You are here with us. No one is going anywhere. Your father isn’t there, and nor are any of your brothers. No one will hurt you. Why you got so scared anyway?” She lifted her gaze. “You know my dad…”

“You got scared too.”

“I mean, yes, but… You know my dad means us no harm, right? He would scold us into the next millennium, true, he would tell us to apologize, sure, but that’s it. Maybe I should adjust my plan on this angle, but, in the end, we are adults, right? And we would probably tell Bernard anyway, once we know what’s inside of this thing… well, I would…” He touched the Compass, as it laid on the small stand next to them now. “So, that whole “burglary” thing is… well, I would say it is a little strong word”.

“Layla”.

“Eh, alright, have it your way. But we are thieves already. All of us.”

“He would be disappointed”.

“Well, yes, maybe even “disappointed” with a capital “D”…” She frowned a little. “But, in the end, it won’t kill you.”

Hans was just sitting there in silence, biting on his lip.

“I don’t want to disappoint again, Layla” he muttered eventually.

“Again?”

“Again. I know he is not my father, Layla.” He looked at her; now she could really tell how exhausted he is. “But I would really like him to be.”

[blizzahra]

My take on the ones that acted like he was invisible for two years. I always have headcanon them to be the 3 youngest of his older brothers for some reason.

Lukas been in my head for a few years, so no criticism, I am attached to him. They are my sons.

Their rank and age:

Thor: 10th; 28

Lukas: 11th; 26

Frank: 12th; 25

I might imagine every of the 12 brothers now.

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

Frozen--Book 1--Chances

Chapter 2--The Unlucky Prince

_________

Summary

Hans is granted a second chance by a criminal known as the Mystery, someone people have only heard rumors about. How and why the Mystery decided to go out of his way to do this was beyond Hans, and frankly it bothered him. But once the Mystery’s plan goes into action, it’s only a matter of time before something bigger begins to develop.

(AO3 version) (Prologue)

_________

Early the next day in the Southern Isles, a guard walked to a prison cell with a tray of food. He stopped at the end of the hall and turned left to face the prisoner—Hans Westergaard. The green-eyed man sat with his back against the wall, unmoving. His right knee was pulled up, and his right arm was resting on it. His head was tilted at a slight downward angle, and he looked to the floor. His red hair had lost its form and was tangled and messy. His usual princely attire was far from princely, having wears and tears in his clothes and gloves. His once shiny boots were now dull and dirty, and overall, he looked miserable.

The jailor slid the food under the bars. “Such a pity, being unlucky number thirteen and tried with treason. You probably already know that your family is very disappointed in you.”

No response.

The jailor walked off, his footsteps echoing down the hall. At the end of those footfalls, a door slammed shut.

Running his fingers through his hair, Hans tilted his head back and groaned. His eyes shifted down to his food, and he moved his arm to grab something off his tray. Savage squeaking was heard, and rats hungrily skittered to the tray of food, startling Hans and making him stand up and jump back. When the rats left, there was nothing but crumbs. Hans groaned. So much for breakfast. . . .

A small bag was suddenly slipped through the bars of the cell’s window, and the bag landed on the metal bed with a soft thud. Hans turned around to see a navy blue figure at the window hanging by a whip. Startled once again, the ex-prince took a few steps back and reached for his sword. Only, it wasn't on him anymore.

The figure gestured to the bag with his eyes. Not taking his own eyes off the suspended person, Hans reached for the bag and peered into it. And inside were fruits and the occasional bread.

He opened his mouth to say some sort of thanks when he saw no one at the window. Seeing something on his right, he turned his head to see a wanted poster of the—boy?—he had just seen.

Wanted—The Mystery

Thievery, Murder

Looks: navy blue clothing and cloak

Physical features: light jade eyes

Weapons: leather whip, fists

The description was all under a picture of a hooded and masked figure, the only spark of bright color seeming to be the eyes. The reward for capture was $300,000.

Sitting on his hard bed with the bag in hand, Hans began to wonder why a thief and murderer, specifically that one, would go out of his way to give him food when he really could be doing something else. Or maybe he had imagined the person at the window.

Then what would explain the bag he now possessed?

Suddenly he heard voices from down the hall. He went to the farthest corner of his cell and strained his hearing.

“. . . time we end this,” a gruff voice said.

“How many times have I told you? We wait for His Majesty’s orders,” a second voice said, irritated.

“I say the sooner he dies the better it’ll be for everyone. We’ll finally be rid of the troublemaker.”

“I agree, but we have to wait.”

Who are they talking about? Me, or the Mystery? Hans thought.

“Anyways,” the gruff voice continued, “how about that thief whose been wanted for ten years?”

Ten years?!

“Ten you say?” the second voice started. “Bah! I’ve heard of one whose been wanted for fifteen.”

“Oh she’s just a legend in a book,” the gruff voice protested.

“Legend or not she was a murderer with no soul.”

“Well no matter. That murderer they call ‘the Mystery’ was seen in Arendelle last night. Stole some food and killed a man with a single punch. A single punch!”

“I’d like to see what else he can do.”

“I can do that, but better.”

“You did one time. Remember 1834?”

“Oh yes. I almost tore off his head, that rascal.”

Hans put a hand to his throat and swallowed. Suddenly the rest of the pear didn’t seem that great.

“Now you can’t,” the second voice said, a little disappointed.

“Bah. I could—wait did you see that?” The gruff voice sounded suddenly startled.

“See what?”

“Look there! A black blur! Don’t tell me you didn’t see that.”

“You’ve been eating too much—there! I saw it!”

Hans heard someone shift in position.

“You there!” a third voice exclaimed.

“Yes sir!” More shifting in footing.

“A message from His Majesty King William about Hans’s fate.” Hans’s heart stopped beating for a second.

“What of it?”

“He has decided that Hans Westergaard be hanged at noon.”

“Finally!” the gruff voice cheered.

Hans slid down against the wall. He felt like puking up what little breakfast he had. He didn’t want to die, but he also didn’t deserve to live. It was enough they threw him in prison after having him shovel horse manure for who knows how long.

“It’s only eight in the morning, so I suggest you ready the gallows,” the third voice said.

Hans’s stomach went into knots.

Four hours left to live.

_________

(Prologue) (Next chapter) (Previous chapter)

[simpofhans]

YOU DON'T GET HANS AND LARS AS MUCH AS I DO. LIKE, THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS THAT SIMPLE AND COMPLICATED AT ONCE THAT IT HIGHLY FASCINATES ME.... THEY ARE MY FAV SIBLINGS EVER I SWEAR 😭😭😭😭💚💚💙

(Joking, we all get them in Hans fandom 😂😭💚💙 but I just WANT MORE OF THEM THAN THE 2,5 CHAPTERS AND ONE SCENE... 😭😭😭😭💔💚)

I DEMAND MORE WESTERBROS!!!!

[simpofhans]

hans and lars core 💚💚💚💚💛💛💛💜💜💙💙💕💕💔💔💔

[simpofhans]

Happy early Mother's Day (in Poland it's actually 26th May) to the MOTHER of the Disney mothers...

Happy heavenly (or still on Earth, in the main Frozen canon ^^) Mother's Day, Clara of the Southern Isles. The fandom loves you. You are the best mother ever and never let someone put you down on this hill. ^^

AND IN FACT, CLARA IS HIGHLY UNDERRATED, EVEN AMONGST HANS FANDOM... LIKE, THIS WOMAN RAISED 13 KIDS, MOST OF THEM GONE AWAY TO ABUSE HER YOUNGEST SON WITH THEIR FATHER, AND SHE STILL SURELY LOVES THEM ALL... sad but true...

But at least, there are her TWO SONS to actually show her that she, despite her alcoholic problems and fear in the past, is actually, the best mother ever IM CRYING T_T

Happy Mother's day to this cinnamon roll ^^!!!

[simpofhans]

Here is my possible Frozen 3/Frozen 4 scenario scene, where Hans overcomes some possible traumatic experience, and Lars, the only brother WHO REALLY LOVED HIM, is there to help him and comfort him, as father figure should do 💕💕💕💔💔 I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH 💕💕💔💔😭😭