#I do know the og story had the mouse king but the og story also had a CHILD have a love interest

[gruvu]

Nutcracker Season 2022: A mixture of days 7, 11 and 14.

Hardt actually doesn’t wake up as a nutcracker. It kinda is.. It’s hard to say the first time he is cursed he kinda is just.. Awake the entire time and trapped in that crisis for a couple years. Then the 1949 dodge van is where Clara finds him and he finds it a safe spot. THEN we have THRISTLE... My rat king who actually is not the major villain of the story due to it taking place after the story we all know and love. But there are so many details and I will not get to them right now. 

[camchuckforever]

Ask and you shall receive @justdonotaskmewhy

A/N we’ve definitely skipped ahead. To be honest I moved and don’t know where my story notes went for the og story 🥺🥺 also I wrote this on my phone sorry for any grammar errors

But. Here we go

NOT MY EARS MY HEART

September 2023

The twins Dave’s and Charlotte are 16.

Rosalind is 28

“Mills?” Charles called to his wife who stood fixing her hair in the bathroom.

“Yes?” She poked her head out, a curling iron wrapped in her hair.

His face had turned pale, pale white. His eyes to heavy to look up at her.

“Darling? What is it?” She undid the curling iron and ran over to her husband.

“Mummy—we have to go. Now.”

Camilla gulped.

They both knew the day would come. And after the loss of Philip, they all knew Her Majesty wouldn’t be long for the world.

“Do we get the children?” Camilla asked. Would it be too alarming to pull the twins out of school?

“Yes, Anne said we must.”

Her heart raced fasted than a racehorse at the Ascot. This had been the one job that Charles had been trained for his entire life—whether he liked it or not. At least he had that, his mother wasn’t supposed to be queen and Charles’ grandfather wasn’t supposed to be king. None of this should have happened, Camilla thought. But, where would they be had it not actually happened? No thriving love story of C & C and their herd of children. No longest reigning queen that was practically the world’s own gran.

Camilla shook her head like she erased a blackboard.

Now was the time for survival mode. Now she had to be the mother she was made for that Philip and Elizabeth had trained her for. To be a rock, as she always had.

She buzzed her private secretary and her husband’s. With a list in her mind, Camilla asked them to gather ‘the funeral outfits’ and to round up the children.

“Ma’am, shall we tell them the situation?” Charles’ secretary asked, a clipboard in hand.

They both looked up, unsure. The loss of their grandpapa had been rough on all of the children, and only a short time ago. They were so young, the twins not even born yet when her own father passed. Would they be able to be smuggled into Clarence House without having the paparazzi capture their tears?

“No,” Charles answered first, reading her mind. “Just get them, now!”

He stood up, and stretched his neck. His mind spun and Camilla could tell he was bringing to panic, and grow angry. SHe knew that he would have to take the roll of king and while it delighted him that he would be able to being placing environmental saving ideas, it also angered him. He wouldn’t wish the throne upon anyone, especially in this day and age.

Two housekeepers hustled in with two dressing bags that were labeled with their names. One walked over to Charles and draped the bag over the edge of the bed. She began to unzip it while Camilla’s was unzipped as well.

“Charles?” She asked. “Look at me.” It was an order. A soft order, but an order none the less. “We need to be strong for our family. For each other.”

He nodded, slipping back into his zombie phase that he had after his father passed.

Camilla’s mobile began to ring as she stepped into a simple, black dress. She clicked the speaker function.

“Rosey?” She asked as the housekeeper zipped up the dress.

“Mum?” Rosey asked, quiet as a mouse.

“Dear, it will be okay,” she falsely promised. “You’re on your way? Do you have an outfit?”

“Mmmhmm,” Rosey choked out. The four in the room, their royal highnesses and housekeepers included, felt a pang of sorrow. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Rosey tried to hold herself together and that one wrong word would send her into a fit of sobs. She took deep and shakes breaths. “Mummy,” she cried.

And cried.

And cried.

She hiccuped and cried more, harder like the light of her life was being extinguished. Rosey had always been closest to her grandmother—horse women at heart and soul.

“Rosey,” Camilla choked out. She took a deep breath. “Please dear, tell me you’re not driving.”

“No, Carl is. I’m meeting—um, I’m meeting Uncle Eddy and Sophie at the airport. You’ll be flying out directly?”

“Yes.”

“Rosey,” Camilla said once again. Like the name was the only thing holding her together. The name that came from her own mother, the strongest woman she’d had growing up. “You must try to control yourself in front of the cameras. We aren’t telling the twins until we arrive to the heli. You remember how destroyed they were about grandpapa.”

There was near silence at the other end. Rosey breathed deep and gave out a little cough.

“Yes mummy. Tell papa I love him.”

“I love you dear!” He called out across the room as the housekeeper tied his tie. Any other time Charles would shoo them off,f even her, and tie his own tie. This time, they were on autopilot.

They slipped on their shoes just as the secretaries returned.

It had been mere minutes, but they began by announcing that the twins would be arriving in minutes.

Camilla held her husband’s hand and gave him a solid kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered. “No matter what happens, we will get through this together.”

“And I you, we will survive as we always have.”

CHAPTER TWO

The twins arrived to Clarence House and ran straight to their parent’s rooms. Charlotte grabbed the dress bag with her name on it and dashed off to the bathroom while Dave’s hid behind a room divider.

“Papa?” Davey asked as he hopped around on one foot, pulling his socks on. “It’s gran isn’t it? She’s sick and we’re being called to say goodbye, aren’t we?”

Camilla and Charles looked at each other.

“We know it is, you wouldn’t pull us out of school and have black clothing set aside for us unless it was.” Charlotte came out, slipping a delicate earring in.

“We didn’t want to upset you,” Charles responded, unsure of what else to say.

“You wanted to save face, the public ‘s in an uproar papa,” Davey said. He zipped through doing up his tie and slipped into his suit coat. “It’s okay, you can tell us. Gran is a monumental woman.”

“And she is still your gran, young man!” Camilla brushed off a piece of lint off of his shoulder. “You’ll still show respect. No matter the historic moment we’re about to be apart of.”

A tear rolled down Camilla’s cheek. Her youngest child reached up and gathered her into a soul-crushing hug. How had he gotten so tall and large?

“Sir? The helicopter is here.” Charles’ private secretary poked in.

“Okay,” Charles clapped. “Clear faces. No smiles.”

Camilla and the twins stepped out after Charles and headed toward the helicopter. They were seated and the helicopter took off. Camilla clutched Charles’ hand nearly the whole way—take off and landing being the worst parts.

No one spoke the whole ride, the sense of dread and sorrow sinking into each of them the closer they got. Part way through, Charlotte reached out to her brother and rested her head on his shoulder.

As they’d grown, each had developed into their own person, but every once in a while, Camilla would catch them being the twins joined at the hip like they were when they were toddlers.

Her nose twitched and she tried to hide her tears. Charlotte then reached out to her.

The helicopter touched down and the four stepped out into the future of the unknown. Camilla prayed Charles and the family would have time to say goodbye before she passed. She knew it would kill Charlotte if she wasn’t able to say goodbye, just like last time.

Inside, Andrew stood waiting, watching them come in. He gave Charles one look and the future king took off sprinting up the stairs. Camilla took a look at her ex-beau and read the exhaustion and sorrow on his face.

“Charlotte, Davey, go. Go now,” she said out loud, not breaking eye contact with Andrew. As soon as the teens were half way up the stairs Camilla sighed. “This is it isn’t it?”

Andrew nodded.

“The doctor said a few hours at the most Mills.”

“God,” she choked out as silent tears streamed down her face. “I’m so terrified Andy.”

“Hush now,” he cooed. He wrapped her into a hug and stroked her hair. “We’ll all get through this together. Beside, you know how lonely she’s been since Phillip passed.”

Camilla nodded and shook her head, again she shook the tears and thoughts from her head.

“You best go, Anne ‘ll need a break for a bit before the rest arrive.”

She forced herself up the stairs.

Camilla was tired of death. One by one people had been taken from her. Her mother in 1994, a mere two months after Rosalind was born. Her father, before the twins were born. Her brother only a handful of years after that. Her father-in-law, and now her mother-in-law. It seemed to come much faster the older she got.

Old.

She was getting old. She trembled as she thought of how young the twins would be when she and Charles passed, even if they lived into their 90’s.

Charles sat on one side and the twins on the other. The mighty Queen Elizabeth lay in the middle, a breathing tube under her nose. Her face had gone pale and the spots on her hands had grown.

Camilla never saw her mother grow old and fragile like Her Majesty. In fact, Camilla had outlived her mothers age three years ago. Every moment felt like stolen time, time that could be taken from her at any second.

Anne walked over, her hands in her pockets. Her hair up in her usual style, but more frazzled.

“She’s unconscious now,” she whispered.

“Andy told me,” she whispered in reply.

Both women reached out and pulled the other into a side hug. They touched their heads together and stood in silence.

“Mummy?” Davey called. He stood and made his way to her. He joined his mother and aunt in a group hug. “Papa needs you mum.”

Camilla nodded and joined Charles on the edge of the bed.

“She looks so at peace darling.” Camilla swept her hand back and forth across her husbands back. She didn’t expect him to respond, he merely nodded.

Noise and rustling came from the foyer. Soon, Charles’ younger brothers, sister-in-laws, and eldest daughter entered the room.

Rosey and Prince Andrew froze in the door. Everyone knew Andrew was the favorite child. He’d always been favored slightly more, even with the past having reared its ugly head.

They grabbed each others hands and stepped in.

All of the children and grandchildren that were there stood around the bed. Camilla, Sophie, and Winny all stood back.

Andrew broke into gut wrenching sobs, which triggered everyone else. Camilla’s children all held onto each other.

Once the first round of tears subsided into telling stories about their matriarch that sent them into fits of giggling, the doctor came in. He checked the queens vitals and then left, telling them she was still holding on.

Everyone was in and out of the room, a few trays of hours dourves was made and they all nibbled throughout the day.

The clock struck 4 in the afternoon and beeping from the machine grew wider apart. Then it seemed to stop, sending alarms through the room and halls. Nurses and doctors rushed in. The beep came back. Then stopped.

The only noise in the room came from the medical staff. Everyone stood still, their breath held.

The doctor held the stethoscope to her chest, then pulled away.

He turned to the family, specifically Charles. He bowed his head.

“Your Majesty, I’m deeply sorry—“ his condolences were drowned out as tears and sobs broke out.

Charles wavered where he stood.

“Darling?” Camilla touched his back.

He turned, his eyes threatened to release a flood of tears. Camilla wrapped her arms tight around him and stroked his hair. He sobbed into her shoulder.

When he broke away from her, Anne came up to him and curtsied. The rest of the family followed suit. When his own children came up, Charles lost it once again. The fear in his eyes growing as each child returned the look.

Camilla stepped back to him and curtsied. She took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

“Your Majesty.”

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

A handee Nutcracker?

Well this is more of a warm up and a quick sketch for fun, but somehow it ended up giving me a "Christmas on July" sorta vibes due to the story XD

Anyways here is Riley Ruckus as Clara/Marie (as I grew up with that version)

As for some context:

This is heavily based on the rest of an idea of an unfinished WIP that I wrote in December around 4 am because insomnia was being mean to me and I couldn't sleep. It is more based into the "Nutcracker and the four realms" but with my twist on the story.

Regarding Riles outfit...

She's actually wearing a dress that got teared up when her Godfather (Owen) pushed her down the portal to the fantasy world he created + she had had some nasty encounters with the Mouse King's rats + awful luck got it like that. Mother Ginger! Daisy did help her out. They did have a sorta awkward start as Riley trusted absolutely no one XD

BTW what Riley is holding is a sewing pin because she became really tiny like a Mouse (the magic of the fantasy world) + Prince Nicholas and Mother Daisy help her investigate a gigantic (since she is tiny it looks crazy big) workshop of Owen to know two things:

1. Why the hell did he push her down to the fantasy world he created?! (I am not sure if it would be well or going into the Narnia route XD)

2. The real reason why the fantasy world the toys and the characters are slowly being destroyed. (As Owen and Amy created the fantasy world that is currently named because I swear the "Nutcracker World" is corny AF)

Part of my OG idea for this universe (which I might write about or leave as an idea) was to deal with the time period struggles (One with Riles and misogyny and her expectations of that time) and one more focused on Owen's grief and escapism. The others I haven't thought much; but I do love the idea of shaking things up a bit by actually make Riley bond with the Mouse king (Mortimer) as both go through similar struggles (is mostly platonic) and Riley slowly becoming less abrasive and more comprehensive to the fantasy world she was in.

I am not sure what would be Mother Daisy Danger, Princess Scout the sugar plum fairy, of the Nutcracker Prince Nicholas "Nick" Nack would face, but it might be heavily inspired by their games' counterpart as this is a human AU XD

Feel free to ask anything or scream at me for doing Christmas stuff when It's June and is Summer (where I live)

PS: Also the pink is just cotton candy stuck after some shenanigans in Princess Scout's kingdom XD

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Way of the Willow

Now here’s a controversial episode from season one. Let’s delve into the discourse, shall we. 

Summary:  It's Queen Arianna's birthday, and she receives an unexpected guest: her estranged sister, Willow. Willow and Rapunzel quickly bond, sharing a lot of the same personality traits (most notably them never wearing shoes), and Arianna feels a bit left out. To add to her aggravation, Willow has given her a pet with an annoying rattle. Eventually, Arianna explodes at her sister, letting her know her irritation with her and throws away the rattle. The pet starts to multiply and rampage over the countryside. Meanwhile, Lance and Eugene  take the King camping. 

More Filler, More Poor Pacing, More Fatigue 

This is yet another episode that was moved around. Noticing a pattern yet? It doesn’t effect the plot much, but it kills the pacing dead. By the time you get to this episode you’re just tired and bored and ready for the show to just get on with things. 

Let's Talk About Representation 

So we have here a show that is marketed towards pre-teen little girls run by two middle aged white guys and written primarily by men. The creators have claimed that female relationships are the focus of the show, but only to give us one female friend for our main hero, no other friendships with women in them, just two sister relationships, and only one mother that is even alive. 

Furthermore they go on to break up that single female friendship, refuse to give any focus to the only mother in the show, and then wrap the plot around the dead abusive mom instead, making her unnecessarily even more horrible than she was in the OG film. (just to make the equally abusive father in the show look better)

Meanwhile we get four father figures, all of whom are just some variant on the ‘overprotective estranged dad’ trope. Even though at least two of them could have been easily written to be mothers instead and it’d not change the plot one bit.   

When women talk about about poor representation in media, it’s things like this we are often complaining about. That’s not to say that men can’t write women.  Miyazaki, of Studio Ghibli fame, has made a lifelong career out writing movies for and starring women. Nor is this a claim that the TTS crew are misogynist. You can be well intentioned and still screw up. As is most often the case in films. 

But nevertheless, if you are writing for a demographic that you are not a part of then you need to either include those voices in the development of your story or reach out and consult people within that demographic. And no, you’re wife/niece/daughter/mother does not count here. You need to go beyond your personal social circle, as people who either don’t know you or have worked in the industry can be more open about what is needed in the writing process.  

Sadly there are rumors, (and please keep in mind this is only rumor, and we’ll never know the actual truth due to the fact that production artists are under contract and can’t share things without fearing for their livelihoods) but there are stories of the head showrunner shutting down the opinions of the female storyboard artists who warned him of some these creative decisions. 

Moreover said creator responded to criticisms of how his female characters were written by claiming he ‘knew strong women in his life’ as if that actually had anything to do with his writing skills. It’s a poor response and smacks of ‘Well I can’t be misogynistic, I love women. See, I married one’. Dear, male creators, please don't ever do this. It makes you look bad. 

So Where are Arianna and Willow From, Again?

The show keeps dropping hints that they’re from Corona itself and are born princesses, but that makes little sense. Because if Arianna was the rightful heir she’d have far more political power then she actually does in the show. If we’re to buy the idea that only Rapunzel will be in charge, and not her and Eugene, or even just Eugene. Then we have to accept that it’s because she’s the rightful heir by birth. If so, then Frederic must also be the blood heir or otherwise he wouldn’t be able to do all the things he does in the show. 

TTS is so determine to not have any real world markers in the show and keeping things a ‘fantasy’ that it winds up swinging too far in the opposite direction. To the point that it undermines its own worldbuilding.     

The Conflict Between Willow and Arianna is Good, but Unnecessary 

I’ve seen some debate over ‘who is right’ here, along with tons of unwarranted shade thrown at Willow, but the truth is, it doesn’t matter. Neither side is right or wrong, and for once the conflict in TTS is real, complex, not easily solvable with a ten minute conversation, and is presented evenly so that you know where each side is coming from. But in the end, it doesn’t add anything to the series. 

Willow is never seen outside of this episode. This is the only story that gives Arianna any kind of focus. Rapunzel learns nothing useful from witnessing their squabbles and it’s all build up to a be bad parable/parallel in the series finale. 

It’s a waste. A waste of conflict. A waste of character. A waste of time. 

Had Arianna been treated as an important character to the narrative, like she should have been, then maybe the episode would have fared better. 

Arianna is Reduced to a Pointless Parallel

We talked about it before but this might be the most grievous example of Tangled’s useless parallels.

Willow and Arianna are meant to be ‘foreshadowing’ (and I use that term loosely) for Rapunzel and Cassandra’s conflict in the finale season. Let me count the ways of how bad this actually is..

For starters Willows and Arianna’s conflit isn’t actually the same as Raps and Cass. There’s some overlap, but ultimately theirs is actually deeper and more complex than the Raps vs Cass stuff. It’s also only between them and does not involve ruining the lives of other people. So it’s a weak comparison to begin with.

Cassandra isn’t even here to make the parallel complete. She barely interacts with Arianna and has never met Willow on screen.

Rapunzel learns the wrong lessons from this. She gets encouragement from her aunt to go traveling and a pep talk from her mom during the show’s finale, but she doesn’t actually apply any of the actual context of the arguments being made to her own life. Making the parallel shallow.

Reducing a character from the original film, one that you did not create and who has reasons to be have more plot importance then they are given, to a mere ‘parallel’ for your favorite OC is just bad fanfiction. This is something that I would expect from a seven year old setting out to write their first ever story. Not from grown adults, who are supposedly professionals, who've worked for years in the industry and are employed by the largest entertainment studio in the world.

Now before you jump down my throat, there’s nothing wrong with fanfiction itself, nor with children exploring their favorite stories in ways they find personally fulfilling. But I happen to hold mass produced media to a different, and ultimately higher standard. As well should we all. A television show made by the mouse has more real world impact than a little girl posting on Ao3.

Critiquing stuff like female representation, the behind the scenes hiring processes that leads to either good or bad rep, and the impression these stories can have on people still developing their worldviews is important. Questioning things are needed in order to make change happen. If you never acknowledge how giving a show targeted to women to a male showrunner can cause problems then you’re never going to push the big companies for more female lead shows. Which means more women are left without work.    

This is Subjective but...

I don’t like the Uumlaut being used as the main conflict. Look, if you like the Gremlins references, good for you, but I was promised sword fights and adventure according to the pilot and all I got was a parody of a 80s horror comedy that decided to skip out on the ‘horror’ part. The Uumlaut isn’t threatening enough to be interesting and the lack of real threats and challenges in this show is really starting to weigh things down. Plus it just distracts from the far more interesting human drama going on with Willow and Arianna. 

Like if you don't want action to be the focus of every episode, that’s fine, but commit to that. Don't just half-ass it because you feel the need to shoehorn in an action sequence where it isn’t needed.    

Conclusion

I like Willow as a character, but not this episode. They needed to do more with her to justify her existence, and they needed to do more with Arianna while at it. Sadly, you won't really miss out on much if you decided to skip this episode and that’s a shame. 

Also... 

I’ll forever headcanon that Willow is the wife that Stan mentioned back in Rapunzel’s Enemy and that she’s his and Pete’s beard. You can’t change my mind. Poly relationships for the win! 

[loulougoingsolo]

"There's A Wiener on the Left!"

In Finland, when I hear someone talk about Easter (in Finnish, Pääsiäinen), the first thing that comes to mind, for me at least, are witches. It's a tradition here for kids to go around town dressed up as witches on Palm Sunday, and trade decorated branches of willow for candy. It's quite similar to trick or treating on Halloween, something not as big a deal around here. But because witches equal Easter in my mind, I find it very fitting that in today's GMM, Rhett and Link were joined by Gavin Leatherwood from the Chilling adventures of Sabrina.

I've watched the first season of Sabrina, but something else has always come up, and I haven't watched the rest yet. Of course, I have watched the og Sabrina the Teenage witch, but let's not bring that up. No, actually, let's: I'm not ashamed to admit that I quite enjoyed the show, even the stiff robotic cat. But even though some quite unusual animals and other oddities are kinda the theme of today's game, they actually have very little to do with witchcraft, and more with the magic of photoshop. It's time to spot the differences in some pretty wicked pictures!

Rhett starts the episode by instantly asking Gavin if he prefers leather or wood, (Rhett likes both) just because, Leatherwood. Imagine being a guest on the show, meeting these two dorks for the first time, and this being the first thing they ask you? And then, you end up playing a game where each round ends with someone putting a curse on themself? 😂

Okay, Disney should consider making a Mickey Mouse movie where all the characters' faces would be replaced with dog faces. That Mickey Dog looks amazing!

Buzzer wood would make a fun name for a Toy story fan fic, and I know my mind is pretty deep in the gutter to say that. It doesn't help when Rhett says things like "I like buzzer wood, it's soft."

After Rhett and Gavin find the differences in the koala mask pics, Link has to walk under a ladder and flip a fish to bring bad luck on himself. I had to find out more about the fish thing, and apparently it is a thing, only not while cooking the fish but when serving it.

I'm not very good at this game. I only thought about how my mom has the same green Ikea dish brush that is in the second picture, and then I started to think I should load my dishwasher. If I was playing along, I'd end up doing all the cursed punishments.

Opening an umbrella indoors is considered to bring bad luck in Finland, too, but this is the first time I've heard about Leonardo DaVinci inventing masturbation. Way to go, Rhett!

I spotted the nose in the stairs photo immediately, yay! Honestly, giving Link scissors and a hammer to smash a mirror with was possibly the worst idea ever. He didn't even know which hand to use with which tool! The horror on Rhett's face is very real, but somehow, the chaotic energy in this shot is also very much what GMM is all about.

I don't think the picture of the chickens taking a bath is that weird, but just pretty funny, but now I really need to see that freckle. I'm glad Link lost this round, so we get to see his yo-yo skills. This round was bad luck to whoever has to swipe the salt off the floor.

I made an eight-legged cat from clay last week, but the dog is way cooler. I don't know why, but I think Gavin just put a curse on that pretty little rainbow with his wicked eye. But, I have to ask with Gavin, why would Link imagine a little girl in a gown pointing at the rainbow instead of Gavin? Oh, because he's Link. Obviously.

In the last photos, I spotted the creeper, but not the other mistakes. I love how Rhett's first guess, after Stevie said women are more prone to spot the last mistake, was boobies - I don't believe that would apply to all women. When Link guessed there's a wiener on the left, I tried to take a better look at the creeper to see if it was a wiener and not a person. I mean, it's possible, I guess. The Try guys just posted a video with Zack's wiener, so it's not unheard of. But, gosh, Rhett really can't whistle. That was equally painful and hilarious to watch.

Rhett also loses the final round, and somehow, his punishment is to get serenaded by two guys while getting a foot massage? I love how Link harmonizes the Happy Birthday song, he's really good at that!

In More, the guys play Light as a feather, stiff as a board with different objects. I've never tried this, but I did once play with a Ouija board with my friends, and I may have tricked them to think we talked to the spirit of someone who used to live where my family home is. I feel a bit guilty for doing that, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. I just didn't think they'd buy it.

Link admitting to Gavin that he and Rhett are the most sheltered middle-aged men he'll ever meet is somehow quite adorable, and I think the part where Link is doing awesome yo-yo tricks while whistling Deck the Halls in the background as Rhett struggles with the cardhouse while Gavin observes the situation, is one of those moments where you could send someone who isn't familiar with GMM, without context, and see how they react. But Link with that yo-yo...😯😍

Link may have shaky hands, but his reaction speed is phenomenal! I'm glad Gavin took his leather jacket off, it would have sucked if they spilled that orange juice on it.

Okay, I'm gonna stop now. They definately saved the best part of today's show to the end, because seeing Wushu sit on a pizza box up against the sky while the guys sing that song from Lion King is possibly the best thing I've seen in a while. And it's the perfect scene to end this post:

[ivarsrideordie]

The Hidden Clearing

Must be 18+ to read. No if, ands or buts.

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: Smut, language, rough sex, BDSM, and fluff.

Title:  A Hidden Clearing

Words:  3,346

Masterlist

This will also be posted to my  AO3  account in the future.

There is no Danish in this except the normal nicknames and pet words.

If there is Danish written into the story, I just put ((insert text)) at the end of the sentence or paragraph.

If you would like to be tagged, comment or message me. I’ll be happy to add you.

You opened the shower door. Alex stood there smugly grinning. You were excited but you didn’t want him to see that. Grabbing your towel from the holder, you climbed out. He eyed you hungrily.

“I’m going to get ready so we can go to dinner. I should be ready soon.” You sweetly smiled.

“I’ve got a surprise waiting for you. So hurry up.” He had a wicked grin spread across his face and you loved it. You felt butterflies build in your core. You were wondering what he had planned.

As you walked by, you brushed your wet body against him. He licked his lips.

“You like that? Do you Mr. Andersen?” You bit your bottom lip, giving him an innocent puppy dog look.

“Mhm.” He pulled you close. His lips softly kissing down your neck. You felt heat sear through your body. His tongue licked at your collarbone. You let out a longing sigh.

“Alex. We are going to be late.” You whimpered.

“I know.” He mumbled through muffled kisses up your neck. “You taste so sweet min elskede. I just want to eat you up.” He nibbled on your earlobe. Your body quivered. You grabbed his face, pulling it to you. You invaded his mouth with a deep kiss. Your tongues crash together. Gods, he tasted so good.

You pull back. “I am going to get dressed. You should really calm him down.” You grinned and glanced at his erection.

“But Lille Mus!” He whined.

“Go! I will see you in the living room.” You kissed the corner of his mouth and went to dig in the closet for a sexy dress.

You heard him mumbling something incoherently in Danish as he stomped down the hall. His game room door slammed shut. You stood there smiling. “Well, at least he’s playing a game to calm down.”

You were searching for the perfect dress and you found it! You placed the dress against your body and looked in the mirror. Ah yes. This is it. You slipped on a pair of black fishnet stockings. You were about to put on a pair of black thong panties when you decided against it. A devilish grin came across your face. You went to your dresser and pulled out your garter belt. This was Alex’s favorite one. It was a silk belt with lace on the underside. He loved the silky feel of it. Whenever you wore it, he would slide a hand under your dress just so he could pet it. And you of course. Tonight he will be pleasantly surprised since you decided not to wear panties. You hooked the belt straps into your stockings. You grabbed the dress from your bed and slid it over your head. You had chosen a spaghetti strap leather dress that was skin tight and zipped from bottom to top in the front. You sprayed on his favorite perfume and lightly painted your face. Alex loved your natural look but you always wanted to look your best on date night.

“Alex?” You called in a sing-song voice. “I’m ready!”

You heard him jump off the couch. Hurried footsteps came to the door. He flung open the door. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you. A sound came from him you had never heard before. You couldn’t even describe it if you wanted to. It was sexy beyond words.

“Åh Lille Mus. Jeg kunne spise dig lige her og nu!” He growled. ((Oh little mouse. I could eat you up right here and now!))

Your stomach lurched into your throat. Ivar was coming out. You could hardly control your excitement. Alex had a devilish grin. He slowly walked over to you, eyeing you up and down. Your body grew warm. Your face flushed. He reached out for your shoulder, dragging a finger as he walked behind you. Your body shivered. He wrapped his arms around your waist. Your body reacted to his touch. You let out a small whimper. He pressed his lips against your shoulder. He moved your hair to the side to access the nape of your neck. His lips and tongue peppered your neck. Your eyes closed. Your head fell forward to allow him easier access. You slid your arms behind you and grabbed his hips. He had started grinding his cock on your ass. Gods you wanted him. You wanted him now.

“Alex. A… Alex. Come on.” You stifled a moan. “We need to go.”

He growled against your skin. He brought his mouth to the shell of your ear and whispered. “Who is this Alex you speak of? Hmm?” His scalding breath whisked across your lobe. His voice seethed in that devilish Viking accent.

Your knees grew weak. “Oh, my king. King Ivar. I am so sorry. I… I...” Ivar stopped you.

“You what? You’ve been bringing another man to your bed? Have you been a slutty little bitch?” He snapped. He swung you around by your arm to face him. His eyes dark. He was practically salivating with lust.

“No, no my king! Never!” You pleaded. You bit your lip. You fought every instinct in your body to just let him have his way with you right then and there.

“Good. Go get in the car, my queen. I’ll be right there.” Ivar licked his lip. Pop! He smacked your ass hard. You whipped around, looking at him with shock and lust. Ivar chuckled. “Go!” He shooed you away.

You headed out to his ‘57 Chevy. It was a beauty. Candy apple red with a blonde drop top. You climbed into the passenger seat. You started thinking about Valentine’s Day. How he had done everything you asked him to do. Everything he wanted to do. And you didn’t care. You loved every minute of it. You felt your pussy grow wet. Your hands slid to your thighs. You lightly tickled the inside of your thigh. Ivar came from the house. He had changed into a black blazer and black pleated pants. His blazer was unbuttoned revealing a gray microfiber shirt that clung to his well toned-chest. His long brown hair was hanging down, resting on his shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat. You crossed your legs to alleviate the throbbing in your sex. God. Look at him. You let out a sigh. Ivar opened his door.

He glanced at your fingers lightly massaging your thighs. His face grew dark.

“What time do we need to be there?”

“Soon.” Ivar snapped. “I see you are touching yourself again. I have told you time and time again. Why must you do this to me? WHY?!” His roar sent a chill through your body. You unexpectedly moaned. He rolled his tongue around his bottom teeth. “I see.” He got in the car, slamming the door.

Ivar started down the driveway. A few miles down the road he swerved off to a side road. He drove deep into the woods. There was a small clearing. He stopped. You kept your eyes forward and gulped. You felt his stare. Slowly you looked to him. He was licking his lips and grinning that sexy Ivar grin. You bit your bottom lip.

“Åh min dronning. Jeg ved, du har været en slette lille hore. Du har ligget sammen med denne mand ved navn Alex. Jeg vil lære dig, hvad der sker, når du snyder på Ivar den Boneless!” Ivar hissed. ((Oh my queen. I know you have been a slutty little whore. You have lain with this man named Alex. I will teach you what happens when you cheat on Ivar the Boneless!))

Before you could say anything, Ivar was on top of you. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling your hair. You whimpered.

“Jeg vil kvæle dig så hårdt, dine tænder vil vokse lige.” You felt his hand slide up your dress. “What is this? No panties! What were you going to do with this Alex?” He bellowed. ((I’m going to choke you so hard, your teeth will grow straight.))

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His mouth crashed into yours. He moaned into your mouth. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip. You felt his free arm slide under the small of your back. He laid you back on the bench seat. Ivar unzipped your dress revealing your supple breasts. His mouth found your breasts. He bit down on one nipple. You sucked a breath in through your teeth. His hand grabbed your throat. He slightly squeezed. You felt your cunt grow slick.

“You will always be mine.” Ivar hissed. He reached between your legs. He ran a finger up your slit. Ivar licked his finger as if he had just scooped whipped cream off of a sundae. “My. You taste so sweet and you are so wet. I can’t wait to get my cock in you.” He squeezed a little harder on your throat. Everything was getting fuzzy. You could feel the heat of his enraged cock against your leg. He let go of your throat to unzip his pants. You coughed and inhaled deeply. He pulled his pants down and laid on top of you again. The tip of his cock lightly teasing your lips. You spread your legs for him to enter you.

“Oh no. You don’t get that yet, Lille Mus.” His hand went back to your throat and applied pressure. Ivar nipped at your earlobe. You shivered at his touch. Your throat began to burn. You gasped for air. Ivar released slightly. You sucked in a deep breath. He reached into the glove compartment. He pulled out your pair of handcuffs. You smirked but quickly hid it. Man, those things are getting a lot of use lately. You couldn’t help it. You grinned and he saw.

“Hvad er så sjovt? Morer jeg dig?” He vehemently spat. His grip grew tighter. You dug your nails into his flesh. Your throat burned. Each breath becoming harder. You felt yourself passing out. ((What is so funny? Do I amuse you?)) “Jeg vil få dig til at betale for din uforskammethed!”((I will make you pay for your insolence!)) His head dipped to your neck. His tongue lapping up the salty taste of your skin. He moaned against your skin. His grasp on your neck grew stronger. He growled against your skin as he nipped and sucked. You could no longer breathe.

You smack his elbow letting him know you needed to breathe. He released you in horror. You took a deep breath. “Oh, my gods Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Alex cried out. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh baby, it’s ok. You can keep going. I just needed to breathe.” You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. You place a light kiss on his lips and wipe away a few tears. You sweetly smiled. “Can Ivar come back out to play?” You bit your lip.

Alex slightly smiled. “Are you sure Lille Mus?” He tenderly kissed your chin. You heard him sniffle.

“Yes. Please continue my love. It’s okay. Promise.”

Quickly he got back into character. “Get out of the car. Now!” He hissed.

You shook your head. Fire lit in his eyes. Your body ached for him. He pulled up his pants. Ivar got out, slammed the door and stomped over to your side. He grabbed your hair and dragged you out of the car. You hit the ground hard. You forgot how strong he was when he was role-playing. He pulled you along dragging you to the back of his car.

“Get on the trunk!” He demanded. His face reminded you of that scene where he was crawling to Heahmund after he had captured him.

“No!” Your body quivered. You had never defied Ivar before. He wrapped his arms around your legs, picking you up. He slammed you on the trunk. You licked your lips. Ivar got the handcuffs out of his pocket. He grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them behind you. He snapped them closed tightly. He bit down hard on your shoulder. You let out a yelp.

“You will do as I say. You are now my slave. Do not defy me again!” His eyes devouring the sight of you. He brought your hips towards him. “Jeg har haft flødeskummen. Nu har jeg brug for kirsebær.” ((I've had the whipped cream. Now I need the cherry.)) Ivar dove between your legs. His mouth sucked hard on your clit. His tongue flicked like a jackhammer. You were driven mad. Your legs began to shake. You felt him slip two fingers inside you. He curled them, hitting that sweet spot. He moved his thumb to your clit, still massaging it quickly. His hot breath brushed against your lips. A wave rolled over you. You felt it coming. You were about to orgasm. Ivar buried his tongue deep inside you. Your walls spasmed as he lapped up your cum. He licked and kissed you clean. His tongue paying special attention to the cherry he wanted to taste ever so much. He ran his hands up your stomach to your breasts. He firmly squeezed them.

“What do you say, slave? Should I remove your bindings?” He asked through a thick accent.

“If you wish it my king. My master. I will do anything you ask of me.”

“Hmm.” Ivar pondered. “I will take them off. I hope I can trust you to not do anything funny.”

You nodded. You just wanted what was coming. You needed him inside you. Just like he needed you too. He removed one of the cuffs, pulling your arms around. He pushes his pants down again. He takes your wrists, pulling you close. Before you knew it, your wrists were cuffed around his waist.

“ALEX!! How are we going to get out of this!?” You screamed.

He let out a belly laugh. “I’ve got that covered min elskede. Now back in character.”

“Skrig for mig! Skrig mit navn! Cum for mig! Lad mig skrige!” With one swift motion, he slammed his enraged cock into you. ((Scream for me! Scream my name! Cum for me! Make me scream!))

You gasp as the tip of his cock slammed into your cervix. God, it hurt so bad but felt so good. Ivar began grunting and growling. You roll your hips upwards. He placed his hands on your hips for more control. You contract your pussy walls around his cock. You felt him twitch inside you. He thrust faster. His body began to quake. He let out an animalistic groan. He positioned you so his member massaged your clit as he slid in and out of your pussy. You felt your walls collapsing. The pleasure was too much.

“Fuck me harder Ivar! Oh, gods HARDER!” You bit down on his shoulder, drawing blood. Your cunt exploded in ecstasy. You felt your juices flood out of you and drip down your ass. Ivar felt you release all over his balls. With that, his body became erratic. You kept contracting your walls as hard as you could. Wave after wave of orgasm flowed through you. All you could do was whine and whimper. Your voice hoarse.

“Shit! Shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, my gods Y/N!” You felt his seed coat your walls. He let out a deep guttural moan. He slid his hand up the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled in your long locks. His lips found yours. He softly kissed your lips. His hot breath sweeping across your cheek. He squeezed you tight. Your bodies cling together.

“Jeg elsker dig.” You whispered in his ear.

“Jeg elsker dig til månen og tilbage min kærlighed.” Alex replied. ((I love you to the moon and back my love.))

“So, what’s your plan to get out of this predicament?” You smirked.

“Well.” He started. “I didn’t really think this one through as well as I thought I did.”

“Oh shit. What? What did you do Alex?!”

“Well,” He paused. “the keys are in my pocket. In my pants. On the ground.”

You both looked to the ground.

“Well, this shouldn’t be that hard?” You sarcastically questioned.

“Here.” He lifted his arms above his head. “Try this.”

You try to lift your arms up, but his shoulders are too broad. He chuckled. Cackled. Roared with laughter.

“What is so damn funny?”

“We are going to be found like this days later, dehydrated from fucking like rabbits.”

“WHAT?!” You looked at him in horror. “You need to fix this now Alex!”

He manically cackled and picked you up by your ass. He maneuvered himself so you were riding him piggyback style. He carried you to the front seat.

You clicked your tongue. “Come on, donkey.” You slapped him on the ass.

“Oh lord.” He rolled his eyes. He set you down on the front seat. “Scoot back.” He sat down in front of you. “You know, I could sit like this forever. I love the feeling of your soft, supple tits against my back.” He grinned. You sighed and bit down on his shoulder blade. “Ow! Okay. Okay.”

He bent down grabbing his pants. He fished around in his pocket. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

“WHAT?” You cried. “I’m freezing Alex. What is it now?”

“I can’t find the keys. Want to hear the good news?”

“Oh, my gods! We are going to die like this! Why did I..” Alex shook a set of keys. “Oh for fuck’s sake! You shit head!” You heard him snickering. You felt the sweet release of one of the cuffs. Your arms fell to his lap. He uncuffed the other one, placing the handcuffs back into the glove compartment. He brought your bruised wrists to his mouth. He peppered them with soft kisses. You laid your head on his back.

“Did you have fun?” He licked your wrist, knowing how it turned you on.

“Yes, babe. I had lots of fun.” You ran your hand through his hair. You were always so envious of his hair. It was always soft and full-bodied. He sighed contently.

“We should get going. Don’t want to be late for dinner.” He stood, pulling his boxers and pants up.

“Aww, okay.” You had just started feeling relaxed again.

“Here. Let me help you.” He gave you his hand. “M’lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

He put your dress over your shoulders. The soft leather slid down your body. Slowly he zipped you up. He bit his lip as your body disappeared.

“I can’t wait to taste you again Lille Mus.” He wet his lips.

“Soon enough my love. Soon enough.” You brushed your fingers against his cheek and planted a kiss in the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get out of here.”

He helped you get in the car and closed the door.

The engine roared. You cranked down his window, allowing the cool night breeze to sweep across your face. You closed your eyes.

“Lille mus?”

“Hmm?” You hummed.

“Should we go change?”

“Not unless you want to. You are the one that dropped your pants in the dirt.” You sniggered.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” He looked down at himself. “I think I’ll be okay.”

You took his hand in yours. You sat in blissful quietness for the rest of the trip. The wind blowing through your hair. The smell of fresh cut grass. The salty smell of the ocean. The car stopped.

“We are here min elskede.” Alex sang.

You opened your eyes. It was your spot. You lovingly smiled. “This is perfect.”

“So, what would you like to do next time?” He smirked.

“You will see Alex. You will see.”

Alex opened your door. He gave you his hand, pulling you up. He brought your body close to his. He slid his arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly. You pulled back and brushed off all the dirt you could find on him.

“Let’s go mus. I’m sure Joe is waiting for us.” He kissed your forehead and whisked you into the restaurant.

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