#the dog deserves a private life even if the fandom was completely normal in your view

[computercreature]

gonna be real honest when toby fox said the amount of fans undertale got gave him anxiety i don’t think he was trying to say the fandom is full of freaks and i think it’s weird when people assume he stays out of the public view because he hates aus or shipping or whatever. he literally made a game about accepting people who are different from you and too many fans decided the fandom was “toxic” over harmless fun

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 9

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: The Dregs finally have some bonding time but its ruined

Note: So complete honesty, the second song that inspired this fic makes an appearance in this chapter and its uh ‘I2I’ from A Goofy Movie so yes, you can all imagine my surprise when I heard this play for my kids and instantly said ‘the Dregs would love this shit’ and well, I went with it, also I think I used this gif already but I love it so its appearing again

Taglist: @amwitherspoon​ @mcntsee​

Y/N spent the next day trying to catch up with everyone from her past, seeing old friends and even training the new Grisha that were volunteering for the army.  It was refreshing after being forced to play a role she hated for so many years.  She felt freer than she had in a long time and she felt herself coming out of her shell more.  She struck up an instant friendship with Nina as the women trained the up and coming Grisha and she finally asked about Kaz's time in Ketterdam more. "So in Ketterdam you were a servant?" Y/N asked, staring at Nina surprised.  "And I knew Kaz was in the Dregs but he wasn't the actual leader?" "I was an indenture," Nina corrected.  "And no, Kaz was second in command to Per Haskell and well, I guess since Per didn't survive the assault Kaz is sort of in charge now.  He probably said he was in charge to impress you."   Y/N blushed and tried to brush it off. "I don't think Kaz goes around thinking about how to impress me," she said, sitting down at the dinner table with her plate of food.  Nina smiled and shook her head. "Look, we all know that you and Kaz have a thing, Jesper can't keep his mouth shut, but we've all agreed that we don't want to say anything because no one wants to die by caning," she said.  "So yes, Kaz Brekker thinks about impressing you, and apparently stalks you since that's about the 6th time I've seen him looking at you since lunch."  She nodded her head towards the line for food where Kaz was standing.  When Y/N looked and saw him he looked at Matthias as if he had been listening to what the giant was saying.   Y/N shook her head and looked back at Nina.  "I'm impressed that you somehow broke through that icy wall he has around him." "I don't think I broke it, feels kind of like I just found a small door and crawled through," she said.  "I mostly just want him to be happy, well as close to happy as Kaz Brekker gets.  Though I'm not made of kruge so I doubt he's that happy." "Who knows, maybe he likes you more than kruge," Nina said.  Both women started laughing, drawing some attention to themselves.  Jesper and Inej soon joined them with Wylan coming soon after.  Matthias was next and finally Kaz.  He approached the table and cleared his throat.  Wylan looked up from his spot next to Y/N.   "What?" he asked, noticing the murderous look on Kaz's face.   Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled.   "Move merchling before he gets angry," Jesper said, pulling Wylan closer to him.   "I don't know how you tell...he always looks angry," the boy grumbled as he started eating.   Y/N saw Kaz throw him a look before he started eating himself.  

A few minutes into the conversation about the possible job that was going to be given to the Dregs Wylan threw a hand up and it smacked Kaz's shoulder.  Kaz had let down his guard some, not really paying attention and didn't expect the interaction.  He paled and felt a little dizzy for a moment, the world going a little fuzzy.  He hadn't had an incident like this in a long time.  He had come to expect the small bumps and touches from others and braced himself all the time for them.  Now however, after the journey and him having held hands with Y/N last night, he had let down that guard thinking he was getting better, but this proved him wrong.  No one else seemed to notice that he was struggling and he was glad, he didn't want them to see his weakness so clearly on display.  He had to recover quick but at the moment he didn't know how, his vision wasn't refocusing and he could feel his chest closing, feeling sickness rising in him.   "Kaz, listen to me."  Her voice, he heard it in his head.  At least he thought that's where it was.  "Breathe.  Breathe again.  One more time.  Now close your eyes and open them.  Look at me."  He did as she said and when he opened his eyes and looked at her he saw they were alone at the table.  She smiled at him.  "I told them you were still tired from the journey, they went to set up a fire circle for tonight, asked for us newcomers to join them."   "Alright," Kaz said.  He was still focusing on her voice, letting her talk and letting the sound ground him.  From the way she was looking at him he thought that she knew what he was thinking so she kept on the conversation for them both.  They wanted her to bring her guitar, wanted to hear her sing something.  She hoped she didn't embarrass him with her song choice, it was going to be a silly thing she had written while in school.   "Do you think you can stand and walk, they're waving us over now," she said.  He hadn't realized it had gotten truly dark already.  He was going to need to be better about keeping  his guard up, he couldn't let something like that happen again.  He nodded and stood, leaning more on his cane then normal.   Y/N rose and kept a good distance between them, giving him space that he desperately needed and he appreciated her for it.  They worked their way to the other Dregs and sat on seats around a roaring fire.

"Could have used your help with this thing Miss Inferni" Matthias said, giving her an annoyed look.  Nina elbowed him in the ribs.   "I could light your coat on fire if you really want to use my powers like I'm a trained dog," Y/N shot back, sitting down.  Jesper had run to her tent and gotten her guitar.  He sat down and handed it to her.  Kaz sat down next to her and she felt his mood shift, his panic attack was over and he was back.  He looked at her and nodded, confirming he was alright and she nodded back. "Play the song, I think we all want to hear it," Wylan said.  The others murmured agreement and Y/N blushed.  This song was so dumb and she was going to be mortified but she had promised. "Alright so remember I wrote this when I was around 14 so its going to sound like silly fantasy nonsense," she said.  She tuned the guitar a little bit to make it sound brighter and started playing.  It was more upbeat than anything she had played recently and she was really struggling with getting the rhythm down until she heard someone playing what sounded like drums near her.  She looked up and Wylan had a bowl and some spoons and was making a beat for her to play too.  'Thank you' she mouthed to him and he smiled brightly back as he kept playing.  She finally found the beat and started to sing.

"I got myself a notion, one I know that you'll understand To set the world in motion by reaching out for each other's hand"

She teasingly reached out to Kaz, a smile on her face so he knew she was playing.  She expected him to blow her off, roll his eyes and look away, but to her surprise he actually squeezed her hand for just a moment before pulling back.  She felt her heart do a little leap in her chest.  It was one thing for him to touch her in private, where no one could see, but out here with friends was another story, he was comfortable with her and was showing it around others.  The others didn't seem to notice as they were having fun moving in their seats, sometimes making wooping noises to the music as she kept singing about love saving the world.  It was silly but it made everyone smile and that was what she was hoping to do.  They deserved this time to bond as friends again. As the song ended they heard a mocking clapping from nearby.   Y/N turned to look at who was ruining this moment and saw an older man who looked rough, and well, his eyes held evil in them, covered in a thin layer of cruelty.   "That was lovely, just so sweet to see the Dregs back together," he said, voice light, like he was talking to old friends.  Inej stood up, folding her arms. "Not now Rollins, we will speak later," she said.  It clicked for Y/N who this was.  Pekka Rollins.  The man who had nearly destroyed Kaz.  Rage roared inside her and she stood abruptly.  She could feel the anger radiating off of Kaz next to her but he was controlling himself, biding his time.

"O, want to give me a private show little lady?" Pekka said.  This brought Kaz to his feet.  He had felt more then seen the rage that had filled Y/N when she realized who this was.  He was practiced at containing his malice for Rollins but she wasn't.  When she stood he stayed seated, hoping that Rollins would just finish whatever business he came here for and then leave.  Apparently that wasn't going to happen. "What business?" Kaz asked like they were in Ketterdam again.  He figured that's not how things worked around here but it would hopefully remind Rollins of whatever he came here to do.  Rollins laughed. "Living in the past my friend, time to catch up.  I just came to thank you Brekker, breaking me out of that Fjerda prison saved my life.  If I hadn't be escaping I wouldn't have heard those Second Army shits talking about demolishing Ketterdam.  Thanks to you I got most of my crew out, sorry about yours though, shame you couldn't get them out," he said.  Kaz took a deep breath, remembering that his time to kill Rollins was fast approaching.  He would do it in secret of course, take his time in the night and make sure that by morning the body would be unrecognizable.  This mantra kept Kaz from striking the bastard right here.  But it didn't keep Y/N at bay.   Before anyone could react she threw a large rock right at Rollins's face, cracking him in the nose.  Blood poured and he cried out in anger and pain. "You bitch!" he said.   Y/N had a fireball in her hand ready to fire. "Leave now, your business here is finished," she said, becoming every inch the Darkling's second in that moment.  Kaz could see her where someone evil, someone like him, could trust her, deep inside she was the same, she just worked to suppress those traits while he relished in them.  Rollins took the hint and walked away, some of his crewmates coming over to help, glaring at Y/N as they left.   Kaz and Y/N sat down again and they looked at each other.  He was asking her to help him kill Pekka Rollins, tonight, without saying a word.  She understood him completely and nodded. "Tonight," she said.  He wished she hadn't spoken it aloud but it didn't really matter. "You can't kill him Kaz," Inej said.  He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "His death is mine to collect," he said.  "I call the shots for the Dregs and I saw when I take a life."  Inej took a breath and he saw her change, her demeanor becoming one of a leader, ready to compete with him instead of work under him. "It doesn't work like that here Brekker," she said.  "Pekka Rollins did get most of his crew out so our people from Ketterdam joined together, everyone was a Dime Lion or a Dreg and we were forced to become partners.  If you kill Pekka Rollins then those sides will start infighting and this resistance already has enough of that.  Leave him be, a Dreg cannot kill a Dime Lion."  Kaz gripped his cane tight and stood, turning and walking a few steps.  He stopped and glanced back, knowing that Y/N was following him.  He let her catch up to him and they walked back to his tent. "I have a plan," she said as they entered.  Kaz looked at her a little surprised and a little proud.   "Let's hear it," he said.  He knew they probably were thinking of the same plan but he would let her have the credit for it. "I'll get Rollins, if I had to subdue him I will but with how he looked at me I think he'll come willingly.  We got out of camp and then you can have your revenge.  I'll burn the body after.  If he's found everyone will think I did it and after my display tonight I'm sure no one would be surprised.  I'll make sure to distance myself from you and the Dregs out there, make sure they can't pin it on you guys," she said.  Kaz smirked and nodded. Well, think you can work your magic in about an hour?  Head out of the camp and go east, I heard there's a hut there for skinning animals, I think I'll borrow it," Kaz said, feeling the sick thrill of knowing he was going to do something truly horrifying.  

[thickenmyblood]

2/3 a fic like that. i started following you again after january because it was completed and (to put it bluntly) you went 'anon' so you were not blogging as much. it's happening again with another author whose capri fics i looove and i do not want to unfollow !!! being jealous is bad and im not a bad person

The first and final parts of your question never made it through. However, I wrote a reply to what I think the issue here is.

You’re not the devil for being jealous of other people. It’s not a pleasant thing to feel, mostly because it stems from comparing yourself to others, but it’s not unnatural. It seems to me that you’re talking about authors’ popularity and how well received a fic is in fandom, and so the reply I’ve written will focus on that. If that’s not what you were talking about… sorry in advance. 

It’s taken me a while to answer this because I kept falling into the old trick of saying kudos and comments don’t matter and they don’t necessarily mean anything. But that’s not the thing you should be focusing on. Some fics are popular because they’re really, really fucking good. Some authors are BFNs because they’re very good at fandom stuff (plots, writing, characterization, meta). Chances are if people like something, that thing is good. There’s a reason people like certain stories so much and go back to them over and over again, and me telling you that happens because life is random isn’t fair to those who work hard at creating content for all of us to enjoy. It’d be dishonest and simplistic.

But what also would be dishonest is saying that it’s about merit. X worked really hard on their fic, they deserve every kudos and comment they get. Y had the most original idea on earth, it was groundbreaking, and so they’ve earned their likes and reblogs. Z took thirty writing courses, of course they’re the most read author in this fandom! 

Sometimes you work hard and people don’t like what you wrote. Sometimes you research and put in the time and effort and tears, and the response you get is “meh”. It’s not about who deserves what. I think jealousy comes from a place of entitlement a lot of the time. Why is this person getting the attention I think I deserve? It’s not about deserving. How does one even measure merit, be it one’s own or other people’s? Are merit and effort even related to greatness and quality and popularity? I don’t think so.

I feel jealous often, not so much of other authors having bigger platforms or a lot of followers or their fics being far more popular than mine will ever be. I’m jealous of people who write honestly. I often write characters I can’t relate to in situations I would never be in/put others through. That is pure escapism, which is fun, but not very honest. I wish I could write more truthful things, but truth is itchy and uncomfortable and I don’t want to think about it too much. So I don’t. I’m also scared of making the reader feel uncomfortable. I envy people who don’t care about that.

I’ve read fics and thought, “I will never be able to write like this”. And that’s fine. It’s a normal thing to think. We’ve all been there. You shouldn’t write like anyone else. You should write like yourself because everyone else already has their own writing style, their favorite adverbs and adjectives (mine is warm, by the way), and so why would you try to sound like somebody else? It’s like faking your voice all the time. Imagine if you tried to talk with an accent 24/7. That’s what copying someone else feels like to me, like I’m forcing myself to be something I’m not. It’s fine for the first two paragraphs and then I just want to quit.

Something that’s helped me a lot over the years is not putting people on pedestals. I admire other writers. I admire artists. I admire kind and patient people. But the moment I start treating them like gods it all goes to shit because it means that whatever good qualities they have are divine/impossible to incorporate and develop, and so I stop trying to be better because what’s the point? I also don’t strive to be better than X or Y or Z. I just try to be better than what I’ve been in the past. I’m better than I was in middle school, and high school, and the first two years of university. And I’ll be better next year. Hopefully.

Another thing that helps is talking to those BFNs. Once you interact with them you realize they’re human beings (so, in essence, walking Ziploc bags of flesh and feelings) and they feel inadequate and weird and jealous too. Send them a question on anon. Ask them what they dislike about their own writing, what they struggle with, what fics inspire them, what it feels like to be popular. Not all of them will respond, but those who do will flesh out in your mind. They’re just people. 

There’s a lot of stigma around jealousy. You’re not a bad person for being jealous*. If you never felt jealous or envious or even hurt over someone else’s success then I don’t know what you were doing in middle school. But although jealousy is entertaining... it doesn’t get you very far. 

If nothing I’ve said helps, remember we’re all cheetoguy213 here. Try explaining to your friends in real life that you’re famous online because you wrote a fic about one dude double fisting another dude while wearing a duck costume. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

* What does make you a sucky person is acting on those jealous thoughts. It’s one thing to feel angry that someone’s fic is doing better than yours and another thing entirely to message them about it or leave a mean comment or talk shit publicly about them/their work. That is problematic. Vent to your friends in private. Go to therapy. Walk your dog. Read TMG. Don’t hurt people.

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {17}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 16. Oh Brothers

17. Never Again

Hans knew it was ill-advised-- because everyone told him so. Still, he was a determined man, and doubly determined to make sure that he made himself useful. So after a few weeks and Hans could pick up his sword from the bureau, he had someone fetch him a cane, and walked out of his room escorted by Captain Kristofferson, to meet the guards they had wrangled up. 

 "Gentlemen," He announced, as he arrived, setting down a stack of papers he had brought with him. "I am Hans, and I have had many titles. Prince of the Southern Isles, Admiral of the same, treasonist, prisoner, fool, and advisor; I'm sure I'm missing a few. To you I am 'trainer' or 'teacher'. I'm here to ensure that people like me can't get past people like you again, so we don't have another raid like what happened a few weeks past. When I'm back in form after having been stabbed in the recent raid, I'll teach you all how to run to catch those who would flee, to fight those who would attack, and to stamp out any cowardice or fear of pain you have. At the end of training we will all have bruises, we will all want a heavy drink, and some of you may hate me, but you'll be a good set of guards in the end." 

 "Some of you were thwarted by a snow-child specifically meant to be kept out of a room you were guarding, and others had no problem letting a prince from another country casually take control of a kingdom. I had better not see abject failure to perform your duties like that again. That you now have a treasoner standing before you telling you how to do your damned jobs is a disgrace, and you need to be aware of that." He paused, looking over the guard staff, standing tall and speaking with the authority of the Commander of the Navy that he had once been. 

 "So, it's a very good thing that we're wiping that slate clean." He gestured to brush his hands off, leaning on his cane as he did. "From here on out, your motto is 'never again and never before'. You will never let that happen again, and it never happened. When you get hit in sparring, it has never happened before and it will never happen again. When you fail to complete physical training, it has never happened before and it will never happen again. When you fail, it will be a unique experience and you will learn from it or by god I will make you learn from it. You are here to guard the Queen of Arendelle, not to protect a sweet-shop in the market square from children. If you don't have an excuse from the doctor, you will train daily. If you aren't mourning a family loss or having a baby, you will be at work, and if you make a mistake you will own up to it and you will deal with the consequences like a man, and carry on with life as normal. And if we're all good at what we do, and we're all alive and well, we might even have a bit of fun with it. I've never been a man of the lash, I've always been more for drinking with the men, but I will bring it back if I have to. Now, everyone, pick up a paper and a pencil. I need to know where you're all at. I'll never have anyone do anything I wouldn't do, once my wound is fully healed I'll train right alongside the rest of you, and I'll challenge you to best me at every step. For now, let's get to know you and your experience." Hans was, and it was easy to forget, a military man. He knew how to command men and how to motivate them, both positively and negatively. 

The papers asked a number of questions. Name, Age, rank, years of experience; but it also included questions about travel, how many languages one spoke, personal hobbies; strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing. Some things were intellectual questions about math or logic, some were morality questions. It was a strange hodgepodge of all sorts of questions, almost at random. ~~*~~

The majority guard consisted of men from their late teens/early twenties to mid-forties. There were a few outliers of course, but it's seemed like an accurate representation. The age differences seemed to split the men into two categories: the seasoned members that had been serving since before the Coronation and the new recruits who started serving after, many of them joining recently after the raid. So there were a lot of old dogs and new blood in the mix. There had been some murmurs among the men. Mostly among the new cadets, as well as some of the stubborn old men. A lot of them had been taken aback, when they found out the infamous Hans of the Southern Isles would be their training teacher. The newest recruits had only heard rumors of the Prince's return to Arendelle, they had not witnessed him taking charge during the raid nor understood why he was no longer a prisoner. Even if they were supposedly wiping the slate clean and having a fresh start, there was still some notable doubt among them, yet none of them spoke up to voice their concerns. They did as they were told and picked up a paper and pencil, at least they were good at following orders.

Hans adjusted himself to sit on the desk a while, to give them all time to work. 

 "When you're done, turn in your papers up front. If for whatever reason you can't complete a question, come to me and ask. I'm a bit of a bastard, yes, but I'll never tease you for an affliction like not knowing a word or not knowing how to read entirely. Indeed, if any of you know anyone who can't hear and needs a job, bring them here. Deaf people are oft good guards, and unfortunately overlooked. Hell, a few particularly ambitious women wouldn't hurt the guard staff either. We're a bit short staffed, by the look of things." He looked among the room. It was packed tight, but the room was already fairly small for the kingdom's guard staff. "Perhaps things are done differently in the Isles, but I don't understand how a kingdom can exist so readily with so few guards. I suppose I should be glad we lasted as long as we did, during the raid. It isn't the fault of any one man, nor even the group of you, I suppose. I cannot fault a fisherman for not catching fish, if none taught him how. At any rate, this is not a graded test." 

 He waited patiently until the tests were turned in, then stood up again. He moved more slowly, but hid how much pain he was in. "I'll look at these tests a bit later. If you have concerns, feel free to bring them to me privately, I'm sure you know where I'm staying." He offered, leaning heavily on his cane. "Now that that's done, let's clear the air a bit. You all have questions, I can see. I have answers, and I'm not opposed to giving them. Go ahead and ask, I can't do much physical training with you yet, after my own injuries, but I can train your minds, and I've precious little else to do while I'm healing. So, give me your best shot. Ask your questions, 'what did this son of a bitch do to deserve this job'?" He was still a sailor, and there were no royals around. He could curse if he damned well pleased. He waited to see who had questions to ask.

It was rather quiet, with only a few hushed voices murmuring among each other. It seemed no one would be brave enough to question Hans, then all of a sudden the silence was broken. 

 "What did you do?" one of the new recruits boldly asked. Surprised, everyone turned to look at the young man. "'Cause last most of us have heard, you were the traitor of Arendelle, tryin' to take over the throne." There were gasps at the cadet's audacity to ask. Even with all the eyes on him the boy stood tall and not sheepish about what he'd just asked. Hans had offered after all, everyone was thinking it, so why not dare to ask to get the answers they wanted?

Hans chuckled a little. "Brave boy, I'll teach you how to lead. It takes guts to ask those questions before others, guts that leaders need and followers need to learn to use." He observed. "I was the traitor, yes. I had my reasons, reasons I'm sure I'll tell you all about at some point, but rest assured they weren't very good. I came back to tell my side of the story and make amends. For more reasons, I was in the castle at the time of the raid. Because the castle rooms aren't built as a prison cell, the doors were left unlocked and guards left, under the assumption that they would be able to stop me if I tried to leave. I won't postulate about whether or not that's a correct assumption, but I never tried the door until I heard the sound change in the hall, and the guards understandably gone. Then I went searching for a sword, to help fend off the attackers. By the time I got to the Queen's side, even Captain Kristofferson was down, so the Queen and I held off much of the attack until Anna's boyfriend -Lord Kristoff, I believe?- came in with bow and arrows. The fight wasn't fun, but we managed against nigh impossible odds. I got stabbed in the process and caught a pommel to the face, the Queen got a slight scratch to her face and an injured arm." He explained. "As it turns out, the pommel truly is the way to 'end them rightly'." That was a very niche and obscure joke he didn't expect a single one of them to understand. As if to illustrate his point regarding wounds, he raised the hem of his shirt so they could see the unpleasant wound to his side, stitches gone, but the wound still red and warped. "It's not my first, nor my last scar, in battle or otherwise, and I was already healing from the lashes one gets for being a traitor in the navy, if you'd like to see those scars, too." He gestured to his back, but didn't show them immediately. He looked more amused than bothered. "Does that answer your question? I'm afraid I do love to ramble, feel free to ask more."

"Yes, sir." The young man answered with a nod. There was a brief silence yet again. 

 "Question," someone else spoke up. This time it was one of the older men. "About the paper we just filled out. The questions made sense, for the most part, but some of them seemed rather arbitrary, for example asking about our personal hobbies. I don't understand how exactly knowing that information has anything to do with training?"

Hans smiled a bit and shrugged. "Whom do you send to learn tactics for battle-- the man who prefers swordplay, or the man who prefers games of skill? The answer is games, for tactics are just strategy games with a risk. Who do you send to battle, the gambler or the logician? The gambler, because he understands chance. Westergaard ways are old ways, I prepare for sieges and swordplay, as well as modern diplomacy. Does anyone know why Deaf guards are so very useful?" He asked, and glanced between them, to see if there would be answers. "A Deaf man on a ship cannot be fazed by cannon fire around him, a Deaf guard in a castle chamber cannot spill secrets. Every man has his use and every hobby has its useful applications, if only we can find them. We in Arendelle have the unique experience of living in an era under which ice is our greatest tactical advantage, so if any of you happen to enjoy ice-skating-- you'll be the finest swordsmen we'll have by the time I'm through with you. If you have good aim, archers. If you favor brute strength, zweihanders and door-breakers, if you prefer to run, we'll have ammunition runners and recovery men. Everyone will have their uses and be able to be dispatched at notice. I will get to know your names and your stories over time, as will Captain Kristofferson, so we will know where to send you at a moment's notice when you're needed. We'll see who's the best not by bragging, but by practice, and everyone here will be the best in the squad at something." He paused, and rolled his neck, to pop it and let the silence hang a moment. "Every man has his use. Does anyone know why a cat is a necessary crewman at sea?" He waited patiently, to see if anyone would answer.

"Vermin," answered one of the men. "To keep rats from eating everything," added another. "They've got nine lives," one remarked more humorously.

Hans laughed. "Yes I am, but what about the cat?" He joked dryly. "For the mice, precisely, but their luck doesn't hurt either! If the ships had mice, the mice would eat the food, and the men would have no food to eat. Thus, we would have a dead crew and a dead ship, all for the lack of one hungry cat. Who among you will be our hungry cat? Someone will be the lynchpin of success, and it could be for any reason, in any event. Who will be Fletcher, the young man in the crow's nest who could point out pirates in a fog too thick to see the fore from the aft? Who will be the cannoneer Grym, with perfect aim? There is a niche for each of you to fill, in order to make a perfect crew, and without the right ones, we may fall. So, I will find you your niche, if you don't find it for yourself." He assured, already getting excited about the prospect. "And as soon as this damned wound heals, we are going to have ourselves a hunt." He rubbed his hands together, already excited at the prospect. "For now... who wants to try some sword fighting? I'm reasonably confident I can take any one of you injured, and I'd like to see you bastards prove me wrong." He grinned playfully, clearly just trying to get them in the spirit of the game, and get them geared up to beat him at sword fighting.

The men's laughter rumbled throughout the room. Hans had managed to boost the troops' morale to start their training and him opening up for questions had seemed to ease some of their doubts. 

 "I'd gladly oblige to your challenge Westergaard, just to try to prove you wrong, I like seemingly impossible odds. Though it's highly likely you're still able to kick my hind, even in your current condition, I don't think the Queen would be to thrilled if she found out I returned you more scratched up than you are now, that is if I managed to surprise even myself by beating you," chuckled Captain Kristofferson. "I'll also take you up on your offer, for real, once you're in peak condition, even if that means the odds are against me. It'll hurt my pride to lose, even if it's just in practice and 'it never happened', but if it helps me improve myself in any way to better protect Arendelle I'll do it in a heartbeat. I hope you're all committed to do the same." He declared, taking the lead trying to set the example to his men as is to be expected of a Captain.

Hans rubbed his hands together. "Excellent, let's show the men a good sporting game, shall we? Out to the yards then, tell me you've got some good practice swords? I expect to have to order you all a whole new armory, but practice swords should absolutely be standard. I don't know whether I'll be more disappointed if they're falling to pieces, or if they're new." He warned. He still leaned on his cane somewhat as he moved. "Luckily my injury isn't on my sword-arm side. You might stand a chance if I had to operate left-handed." He teased. In spite of the cane, he moved quickly enough. He moved out to the practice yard, and claimed himself a practice sword closer to a navy cutlass than his own bastard sword, with a few practice swings. "This'll do." He then went about checking the space to clear it out, and used the point of it to hack a few rings into the space. 

 "Who was present during the raid?" He asked, when he was done, moving himself to the center of the rings he had made. "Who, if any among you, recalls what direction I shouted as I passed by to find the Queen? What advice did I give? And, why am I asking?" He loved to challenge them with questions, in between making them laugh. He was glad to see they had a sense of humor about them. That was more or less how he led ships, too.

There were various voices that answered: 

 "Press in!"

 "Repel them back!"

  "Hold the line!"

 As Hans was having a teaching moment, the Captain was choosing his sword, he decided to go with a standard arming sword.

Hans clasped his hands over his wooden sword-hilt and looked so proud. 

 "My god, you actually listened." He seemed genuinely touched at the idea. He took a moment, then cleared his throat a little. "Now, today we're going to see what I mean by that. We can all see where I'm starting, yes? Bulls-eye." He gestured down, standing in the middle of the field. 

"Captain, drive me as far from this point as you can, and I'll try to defend without moving from the bulls-eye. Then we'll switch, and see who can press the other back furthest. You know the rules, only thieves try to hit family jewels, ey? And I'd like my head as un-cracked as possible while I'm still recovering from my two recent near-death experiences. Otherwise, do your damnedest, or I'll never stop giving you shit about it." He flourished with his wooden blade a little, and readied himself. The Hans who trained men was certainly a different man from the Prince Hans who was all 'Your Majesty's and 'Good Sir's. He suspected this Hans was the one the men would learn from best.

"I won't go easy on you just because your wounded Westergaard, I know you won't hold back either, and I'm quite aware I'll never hear the end of it if I don't give it my all," affirmed the Captain with a nod, holding his sword with both hands in the ready position. Once he saw Hans was ready he charged him with all his might.

"Good, because you'll never hear the end of it when you lose to a wounded man, either." Hans teased. He proved to be an agile fighter, in spite of his cane, which he seemed to have forgotten about, fallen to the ground. He defended and parried skillfully, using short thrusts and sharp raps about the shins to force the Captain to back up as best he could, stepping to one side or ducking or even turning -into- attacks to avoid being forced back. He didn't hit hard, because that wasn't the purpose; nor did he aim to disarm, because that would've gone against the point. He simply aimed to hold his ground. While injured, of course, this was no easy task. Being limited to a circle was a difficult business, and this was certainly the challenged position to begin in. He was forced back once or twice by attacks to his weak side, which he was forced to defend more carefully against, but he regained his position by stepping in close and aiming for weak parts of the abdomen, or careful strikes near the neck. He said he wouldn't attack the head, but he'd never said anything about the throat. He was all business during the fight, perhaps entirely because he had to be, as he was recovering. He kept his free hand over his wound, to protect it from getting any worse, but he never flinched from a blow, even if it did make one of his many injuries hurt.

  "I think we've quite made our point, Captain? We never did specify an endgame, my fool mistake, but if I reopen any of my wounds, my doctor may simply stitch me up with a burlap like a sack-doll, so I ought to be careful." He chuckled a little, clearly wearing a little, himself. He would be the first to admit that he wasn't in full form, and he doubted the Captain was, either. They had proved the point, that was the necessity. The battle was short, but illustrative. "Shall we switch?"

" Of course," agreed the Captain. "Wouldn't want to get an earful from the doctor and much less displease her Majesty by being the one responsible in completing your transformation from man to hessian." They switched places, and the Captain was trying to prepare himself for Hans swordsmanship as the one charging, he knew the younger man was far more experienced in swordplay than he and the only he could really do was try to stand his ground as best he could for as long as he could manage.

 "I'm tempted to say you think far too much of her Majesty's opinion of me." Hans pointed out. The first time he said it, it was an amusing aside. Now he was beginning to wonder what exactly their reputation in the castle was. "You're not implying anything, are you? About Her Majesty or I?" He seemed genuinely thrown by that idea. It took him a moment to think about that, before he began his assault. He started easy, throwing a few attacks, defending a few others. Then as he got back into the rhythm, he took his own message-- Press in. He stepped into the Captain's personal space, ignoring the lines, shoving the other's sword away to get as close as humanly possible. He was also not above throwing in an elbow or a knee. Swordsmanship was one thing, but in close combat, a dagger was more useful, and an elbow would do in the meanwhile. Again, he didn't do it painfully, he was illustrating a point. His goal was not to hurt the Captain, nor to disarm him, but simply to push him out. That was the advice that he gave to the Arendelle guards-- push forward.

"Not at all, I'm not implying anything," the Captain retorted, stern shake of the head. "Just indicating the Queen's compassion, and that it wouldn't look good on my behalf as her Guard's Captain if I mistreat an already injured man." The Captain was just calling it like he saw it, Elsa clearly cared about the Prince's well-being that was undeniable, he wasn't insinuating anything about their relationship, he would never presumptuously speak ill of the Queen. 

 The Captain had not expected Hans to get up so close and personal in his combat, he was finding it quite difficult to continue to roll with the punches. Hans was good at using him as a dummy to demonstrate the tactic.

"Oh good, I might've been a little thrown, then." Hans teased gently, sounding much less bothered now. "My brother Eduard was always much better at this tactic," He admitted, even slipping past the Captain, only to turn and hook his throat with an arm. Harmless, no blade contact, but enough to halt the defense. "But he was good at getting into men's personal spaces for much different reasons." He let the insinuation be playfully scandalous for the men to ponder over. He twisted to kick the Captain's leg out from under him and bring them both down-- though Hans came down on his knee, and grunted a bit as his wound moved painfully. "Ah, and there's where my doctor yells at me." He huffed, cringing at the pain he inflicted upon himself. The landing for the Captain would have been softer, all on the grass, nothing contorted or twisted, just uncomfortable. 

 "Alright then, well done, Captain." He stood back up, though struggling a little with his wound, and offered a hand to help the other up just the same. "Now then, lessons: See how far we moved?" He gestured down at the ground. "I gave the Captain no choice but to retreat, by getting into his personal space. It limited my opportunities, but I am familiar with one of my favorite rules of swordplay: Swords alone are for duels. Wars are won by teeth and pommels, sand in the eyes and dirty tricks. Use your elbows, use your knees, use your god-given wits before you lose them. Hell, use your head if you fancy it's hard enough. Watch your environment, know your opponent. Are they chatty? Wounded? Favoring their left? Do they excel at power or balance? Lord, I think I'm done with demonstrations for the afternoon." He laughed somewhat painfully and used his sword to pick up his cane, to use that. "Don't let me catch any of you using a sword as a cane either, wood or no. Else I'll teach you what a sword is for the way we do in the Isles." He huffed a little, leaning on it. He really needed to be more cautious.

 The Captain took his hand and stood up quickly, not wanting to weigh him down. "We might have been a bit too ambitious. How about we --and I mostly mean you-- don't do anymore physical demonstrations ey, Westergaard? At least until you manage to heal that up well enough not to damage it again, lest you wish to keep the injury there indefinitely. I'll handle the physical training myself until you're up to the mark, you shouldn't worry about anything other than writing up guidance or giving out orders before that time comes. Don't worry I'll be as rigorous as you intend to be, can't cut them any slack. Got to give it our all from the set about else they're bound to rout later, once you're finally ready to train them for real. You might be in charge of retraining, but it's still my job to command the troops."

 Hans chuckled dryly. "Ah, but it's just not as fun for me." He joked. "A little pain never stopped me from a damn thing, but you are right, her Majesty would be vexed by me hurting myself, so I'd best not do that again for a bit. I wasn't really planning to do that, to be frank I was expecting the written test to take longer." He glanced at the sky to check the time. He didn't exactly have a watch, as a prisoner. "I'm just showing my pains now so you'll keep me honest." Why else would he? Pain was useless to him. "I'll see about writing up some simple physical fitness goals and exercises for you to train them with. I may start borrowing men periodically to speak to them about these tests, get to know a few." He looked over at the men pensively.

  "So then, that, my dear boys, is what we call a Pyrrhic victory, something I'm quite prone to. Is a win still a win when you've lost as much as you've gained? That's a philosophical subject for you to decide. For me, as long as whatever I do improves the chances of her Majesty surviving another raid, I'll take my pains and be glad about it. Pain just means I'm still alive enough to suffer it, but maybe that's just a philosophy one gets with twelve older brothers. So, what do we think of me? Hm? Am I good enough to train her Majesty's guards after my wound is properly healed?" He wanted to see, was the murmuring and skepticism still there? Had he won them over? Or were there yet holdouts who hated him? They were the ones he wanted to speak with first and longest.

The men all silently looked at once another for a moment. Then some voices started to spark from the crowd.

  "Yeah!"

  "For Arendelle!"

 The voices all got louder and echoed among the men, they all seemed rather animated, cheering and raising their fists in a sign of support, if there were still any embittered people among them they surely didn't seem to stand out anymore.

Hans seemed, not just surprised, but genuinely touched. In a way, it was bittersweet. They believed him so readily, they genuinely thought he wanted to help Arendelle. And, he did. But god, how did they believe it? What had he done to deserve that same loyalty that he got from his crew. 

 He fixed his usual confident look to his face, with a wry smile. "Excellent. Keep that spirit, men. And do come to visit me if you want to talk about anything. God knows I'm bored, healing. I'll take these papers, and leave you to it, returning to my... room?" He looked at the Captain, almost raising an eyebrow. "I'll be perfectly honest... I'm still not used to not calling it a cell." Did that say more about him, or what he was used to?

 "Anyway, I should be off, before I do some other demonstration and accidentally kill myself." He laughed dryly. In truth, he was leaving so he could get to his room and try not to cry again, this time with, what, relief? It was a good feeling, whatever it was. Bittersweet.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Gentle beast, ds dreammare. Please

Fandom: Dreamswap by @onebizarrekai

Set in the same verse as this

Characters and pairing: DS Dream, DS Nightmare, DS Dreammare

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 1,658

Summary: No one has seen Dream in a week. Naturally Nightmare, as his mate, is the one enlisted to find him.

Nightmare has been staying in the headquarters of justice Reigns for a little over six months now. It’s very strange to see what Dream has done to their home timeline in the fifty years he’d been running from the other… At first he was very worried that the other would try to do something awful to him… But, Dream so far has been completely genuine about his desire to apologize for being a giant dick when he’d first consumed almost all of the apples after turning all but one of them positive. The other hadn’t asked where the single negative apple has gone - and hasn’t tried to do anything weird or awful to him…

The negative spirit is cautiously optimistic that Dream really does mean it. That he wants to help those less fortunate in the multiverse and while negativity should be minimized - as people don’t deserve to suffer - complete eradication is pointless and… Dream doesn’t want him dead. He never did, but had lost control of himself and the magic that he’d consumed had taken control of his mind temporarily. He’s been working at the orphanage for the past week - there’ve been quite a few new admits and most of them are from fell or other rough AUs, and he’s been gently pulling some of the aggression and bitterness that the poor kids have been suffering under for most of their lives, while also encouraging them to open up.

It’s a difficult process but… Nightmare finds it to be rewarding. And it’s really adorable how they all light up whenever he plays his violin for them. Some of them even sing alongside and it’s super, super cute. He can see a lot of the good that his other half has done, and hopes that what he’s been doing will help the other. It’ll take a while before he fully trusts Dream again, but… The positive spirit has been proving himself so far.

He’s smiling a little as he makes his way over to the main portion of Justice Reigns - intent on poking Dream out of his office in the tower - guessing that the other had decided that he didn’t need to sleep and work on paperwork and other really boring things (as Dream would have come to tell him he was going to go fight someone if he left their home to go bashing heads) for the week that he’d been working with the new kids.

A Random Minion (who’s name Nightmare cannot for the life of him remember) comes rushing up to him, their aura filled to the brim with worry “Lord Von Licht! I… Please come with me quickly…”

“Huh? No. Lord Von Licht has wings. I’m Nightmare, his spouse.” The negative spirit responded, a small smirk appearing on his face as he followed the other “What is it that you need?”

“I… I… I will answer your questions as soon as we are in a private location, sir.” The Minion answered back, their emotional aura spiking further with fear and anxiety.

Was this where everything went to hell? Should he try to make a break for it, or leave the AU entirely? No… Nightmare guessed that he should at least see what was going on before either running off or smacking Dream’s head on straight. As soon as they came to an empty room the minion actually dragged him into the room, shaking a little. “I… This needs to be kept quiet but… N-No one knows where L-Lord Dream is. No one’s seen him in a week, just after you left for the orphanage sir… I-It’s not common for him to vanish for a couple of days but… It’s been a week and none of us have any idea where he might be.”

“Great. Was he acting weird before he vanished?” Nightmare asked, frowning a little. Dream had seemed perfectly fine as they’d kissed goodbye, but… The other could be a cagey and unpredictable bastard.

“N-Not to anyone’s knowledge, sir… As far as any of us can tell, he’s still in this timeline, we just… We can’t find him. We were hoping since the two of you have… You two are mates, that you might know him well enough to find him?” The Minion explained in a rush “This has been kept quiet - only the highest ranked in Justice Reigns are aware that Lord Dream cannot be found.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to cause a panic. And yeah, I can track his feathery butt when we’re in the same timeline.” Outside of it too, if he really tried. Not that Nightmare was going to tell them that. Best not to spook the mortals after all. “My phone’s fully charged and I’ll call Champion when I find Dream.”

“I-If you would please check in every couple of hours with a text to… T-To make sure that we know that you at least, are able to be contacted, sir?” The Minion suggested timidly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Dream’s probably just gone off somewhere to brood. He does that sometimes. Or read. A week’s not a very long time to either one of us, though he’s a lot more responsible than I am in regards to time management than I am. Normally at least.” Nightmare responded, waving a hand dismissively as he turned off his eye lights and reached out with his senses… “Oh… I… I think I know where he is. Uhm. I’ll just - double check to be sure.”  

With that he teleported off, ignoring the frantic shouts from the minion for him to wait, or at least explain where it was he was going. There were only a couple of reasons why Dream would be there of all places, and none of them Nightmare thought were good ones. Certainly none that his other half would want his mortal minions to see him in a… Not so great mental state.

Sure enough, Dream was there. He was sitting in the top of the remains of the tree, his wings curled around him and leaning against the dead, withered trunk of the tree. Nightmare sighed a little before carefully climbing his way up to the other, and calling out “Dream…? Why are you here? How long have you been here?”

The other jerked a little before turning to look at him, his eye lights pale and somewhat fractured. Dream growled low in his throat before tackling him, causing Nightmare to overbalance and the both of them to fall out of the tree “Dream, what the fuck!” He flailed as he tried to grab onto the tree - but they were carried too far for him to save them from a fall.

Dream’s wings flared open and they landed safely on the yellowed grass of the meadow that both of them had long ago called home. The taller skeleton gently nuzzled one side of Nightmare’s neck and purred happily, his wings wrapping around the both of them as the other peppered his neck and face with little kisses, occasionally letting out some rather ridiculously endearing chirping noises.

“I… H-Hey! That tickles! Hahahaha… D-Dream stop that!” Nightmare flailed - the light kisses tickled and the other was acting very strangely. The other’s kisses were much warmer than normal. The negative spirit frowned a little and Checked his other half, sighing a little and frowning. “Okay… How the actual fuck did you get cursed?”

Dream just purred and chirped at him again, nuzzling into him more, unable to respond to anything other than what his basic instincts told him to do… And it was… Kind of endearing to see just how sweet his other half could be.

“I… Okay, I’m just going to teleport the two of us home, and then get you to the healers so they can break the curse… I wonder if you’ll remember anything like this…” Nightmare mused, gently petting the top of the other’s skull, as well as one of the other’s wings a little.

Dream just purred louder, clearly happy to be as close as possible to him. Nightmare snickered a little, unable to stop himself from taking a couple of pictures before calling Champion “Hey - I found Dream…” The other batted lightly at the phone before hugging Nightmare tightly, grumbling wordlessly.

“You did? Is he okay? What’s going on?” The dog monster prompted, concern in every syllable.

“He got cursed somehow.. Mgh! Dream stop it… Mph!” Nightmare tried to explain. Dream had started to kiss him, in an attempt to stop him from talking, as well as trying to grab the phone from him “He’s running on base instinct… Which was to go home and to kiss me apparently. I can try to bring him to the medical wing, but… It’ll probably be easier if you can bring a curse breaker to that giant dead tree in the middle of this timeline. That’s where we are.”

“I… Uhm… Okay. I will be right over with a doctor and a curse breaker immediately. Just try to keep him there, sir.” Champion asked “If you two move, please try to text me?”

“Yeah, I’ll try.. Ahaha! Dream stop tickling me! Oh… I… Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you… Please stop whimpering…” Nightmare murmured in low, soothing tones, wincing a little as the other stared down at him with large golden eye lights, tears gathering in the corners, distressed. He nuzzled into the other’s side, purring a little “See… I’m sorry…” He was glad that he ended the call, as that would be super embarrassing if anyone else heard that for the both of them.  

Dream carried him over to the base of the tree, before sitting down and cuddling him, purring loudly and occasionally giving him kisses. Nightmare leaned into the other’s touch, refusing to be lulled to sleep. Eventually Champion and the medics arrived. Thankfully Dream had fallen asleep before then, and they were able to undo the curse before the CEO did anything embarrassing.