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#bishop heahmund
jrhysmeyers · 4 months
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Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Bishop Heahmund | Vikings, 5x06 — The Message
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barbiedragon · 6 months
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Kinktober Prompt #7
Prompt: Virginity/Wax Play
Bishop Heahmund x fem!reader (Vikings)
WC: 500
Additional warnings: minor Religion kink
*comments/reblogs are appreciated
A little gift for @valeskafics
Kinktober Masterlist
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You hissed, arching your back as the warm wax pooled across your chest. Heahmund chuckled at your reaction, leaning closer to blow a soothing puff of cool air over your heated flesh before wrapping his lips around one pert nipple.
“Pain can stir eros,” he whispered against your wet flesh. One hand pressed between your slick thighs, stroking your damp curls. A wicked smile toyed at his lips. He was a man of God and a man of flesh.
“I suppose you would know more than me, being a learned man of the cloth and a skilled warrior,” you whispered, keening your hips and pressing further into his touch.
He continued the pleasant stroking before removing his hand.  You writhed and mewled as he drizzled more wax onto your flesh, covering your belly and hips. Very slowly, he scraped the hardened pieces off, pressing a kiss to each flushed mark left behind on your skin. You were starting to understand his words. A quick sting followed by throbbing pleasure that made your belly tighten. His rough, calloused hands grasped your hips as his lips crashed against yours.
“Are you ready for me, sweet maiden?”
You gazed into those piercing blue eyes as desire thundered through your body. You wanted him to ravage every inch of you. To send you crashing over the edge until every muscle in your body ached. It mattered not to you that Heahmund had savored many women in Wessex. He was between your thighs now, and you sought to give him your precious maidenhead. He promised to guide you through repentance later.
“I am, please,” you begged as his body hovered over yours. His cock was hard and heavy between his legs. The sight made you bite your lower lip and wonder if he could fit inside.
Those strong hands guided your knees back as he pressed against your opening, slowly slipping his way inside. You gasped softly, feeling the pressure fill you until he was deep inside. You felt a slight cramping that slowly subsided as you grew used to the feeling. It wasn’t bad, a simple sting; clearly, the lessons and lectures had been meant to instill fear.  Heahmund began to move his hips as your hands settled against his sides.
Each thrust made your body tremble, and soon, you moved your body in tandem with his. Soft moans spilled from your parted lips. Your eyes rolled back as he hit a sensitive spot inside you that made your thighs twitch. You were certain this was your peak. A pleasant yet unfamiliar sensation rolled through you as the tightness in your belly snapped, and you gave your body over to pleasure.
“Beautiful,” Heahmund whispered, holding your chin between his fingers while he studied your face. He pulled out, and heat flooded your face as his spend coated your thighs. “We should give thanks for such divinity.”
His hands clasped over yours as he murmured a prayer of thanks. You swore you heard angels singing.
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thunderfaucet · 8 months
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Longest hyperfixation since Catwoman lol. I truly don’t know how to blur this from casual scrollers. Apologies in advance..
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mnzbrg · 1 year
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whatever this was...... PEAK homoerotism.........
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vikings + text posts
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charliesfandomworld · 5 months
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A little (fast-written and not thoroughly proofread) something for the Summer Solstice Event hosted by @vikingsevents. I combined day 4 (Sweet, Salty, Metallic) and day 5 (Moan, Whimper, Scream) and created a Vampire AU (doesn't every writer need one at some point xd and JRMs role as Dracula gave me the perfect pic). I'm a little late, but I'm here :) Pairing: Heahmund & Ivar Words: ~4000 [AO3] Warnings: Mention of Blood (what a surprise), M/M Blowjob, Mild Smut
If his heart would still be beating in his chest, he was sure it would have stopped the moment he finally put his lips on the soft pillows he had painfully longed for weeks. Or rather, for centuries. It felt like a gentle death, and in a way, he actually died the second their lips touched, uniting in a kiss. 
In an instant, he felt as if he had been reborn. His old self ceased to exist. The suffering self, driven by pain. All the pain of the past centuries, all the suffering that had accumulated during that time, slipped away from him, peeled off like a skin that no longer belonged to him, making way for the hope of a future in which love and passion would once again become his driving forces.
Caught in the maelstrom of his sensations, he gave himself completely to the feeling that the lips, which at first only hesitantly pressed against his, triggered in him. He would have loved to take possession of them directly, to feast on them like a wild animal that had had to wait too long for new prey.  He was hungry, wanted more, but he held back. He mustered all his willpower to do so. Even though it was difficult for him, he instinctively knew that he had to give his counterpart the time to slowly get used to the feeling he was most likely experiencing. It was probably unfamiliar to him and overwhelming at the same time. Not the kiss alone, but the wave of emotions it unleashed. He was sure that he wasn't the only one feeling this way, but that the boy in front of him was also stirred up inside. He felt the uncertainty and probably also the disbelief about what was happening in his tentative approaches, heard it in his fastened heartbeat and shaky breaths.
Sweet - was the prevailing thought that burst upon him, unannounced like a storm on the high seas, as soon as their lips parted a crack, clearing the way into a world full of new sensations. He felt as if there was a slight hint of caramel, or perhaps honey, on these soft pillows, which further enraptured him. He wanted to devour every last trace of this delicious taste, chased after it like an addict after his favorite drug. 
A smile formed on his lips, and had he not disturbed the kiss with it, he would have shaken his head in disbelief at his own surprise at the beguiling taste. Of course, his sweet prince still tasted like the sweetest temptation he had ever tasted. He hadn't gotten that nickname for nothing. Back then, a very long time ago.
He caught himself thinking that he could do without blood for the rest of his life if only he could sip on those very lips every waking minute. They were the elixir he needed more to live, the loss of which had made him an empty shell.
A stupid thought, perhaps, but he was far from being wise. Not when he was close to the one person he love the most and which he had believed he had lost forever.
The fact that he was here, unarmed, and without even having thoroughly checked his surroundings beforehand, was already proof enough that he might not be in his right mind.
The boy, who so willingly allowed himself to fall into his arms, was Ivar - the youngest scion of the Lothbrok family, whose roots as famous hunters went back a long way. Hunters who had tried for several generations to banish him and his kind from this earth, yet they had never been successful. At least in his case. Many of his kind had fallen victim to them, which had only magnified his anger and hatred toward those people, and perhaps it was now up to him to fall into the easiest of all traps that would cost him his survival.
He was walking on dangerous ground, but this kiss alone was already worth the risk. With not a fiber of his being could he imagine that the Lothbroks knew what old soul was slumbering in this boy when not even Ivar himself seemed to comprehend why he too was drawn to him as well. Ivar could have killed him already. He had several opportunities to do so, since he was too careless when near him, but Ivar hadn't done it, instead, the boy surrendered to the kiss as well, letting himself be guided by something hidden deep inside him.
Gently he let the tip of his tongue trace this sweetness and silently begged for further entry into this paradise-like cave.
He had fought many battles in his life already, had brought down many enemies who were begging for their lives on the brink of death. During those times, he also faced many weapons that were specially created to cause him pain and the most suffering before his ending. But never before had he felt anything like fear or a sense of weakness. Never had he felt defeated or unable to fight against something life-threatening.
However, the soft moan that escaped Ivar's lips when he opened his mouth a little wider, which led him to take possession of it immediately, made him feel a sense of weakness for the first time. He felt weak to the bone, on the verge of crying because he couldn’t believe his luck. 
Ivar could stab him right in his cold heart, he wouldn't mind right now, but apparently, his luck hadn't run out yet. No wooden peg dug deep into his chest, but a shy tongue invaded him now, began to circle his, and nestled against it. Another moan sounded. This time from his mouth, and he could feel how it was working its magic on Ivar as well. He could hear his heartbeat increasing, could feel the tremors dancing across his skin.
His sweet prince pressed himself closer against him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Seeking hold, he was more than willing to give it to him.
Of the many battles he had already fought, none was as difficult as this one he was now fighting with himself internally.
Triggered by the sweetness that had overpoweringly anchored itself in his senses, he was overcome by the urge to want to possess Ivar, with every last molecule that made up his existence. He wanted to have him all for himself in fear of losing him again.
It was easy to say that continuing life without him would be unthinkable for him. Exaggerated poetics for most, but he knew that these were not just empty words. He had already had to live through it, knew how bleak his existence had been for the last centuries.
He had already lost him once. About 300 years before. Hunters had ripped him away from him in a brutal way. They had used Ivar as bait to lure him out of hiding, driven by the painful screams of his beloved. Pain caused by consecrated silver arrows that had been drilled into his legs in various places.
At that time, he had not been able to free him and thus had not been able to save him. In the end, he had only been able to watch in horror from a distance as they had beheaded his most loved one. Thus destroying a love that had lasted over 200 years. His existence thereafter was marked by hatred. His drive was revenge against all those who had been involved in this cruel event. Including their descendants. No one should be allowed to walk the earth who carried the blood of those people who had taken the dearest from him.
The dark time seemed to be over now. Although darkness was still his accomplice, needed for protection, it no longer ate through his insides.
Ivar was back. Even if so far only as a shell, he was sure that also his consciousness, his soul would soon push back to the surface. He was as sure of this as he had been at their first brief eye contact that this young man was his Ivar.
- His eyes, those azure depths, had been the first thing that had given him away. Back then, a few weeks ago, when they had run into each other in the twilight. A brief crossing of their eyes had been enough and he had lost himself in those familiar eyes. Had lost all sense of time, overwhelmed by all the memories that had burst upon him at that moment. They both had stopped for a moment as if they had been forced to stand still by some supernatural force and just looked at each other in silence.
That brief moment had been enough to trigger a realization in him, and when his senses had returned and with them, Ivar's heartbeat had reached him, he had been absolutely certain. Many people were nothing special. They were lost in the steady rhythm of the faceless mass, but there was something special about his sweet prince. A striking unevenness that sounded to his ears like the most beautiful classical song, whose tonal perfection no one had yet put on paper. He would recognize his heartbeat among millions and millions, had never heard a comparable one since he was robbed of his beloved.
Only briefly had he been able to catch a glimpse of Ivar's legs, trapped in metal braces, before the young man had awakened from his stupor and continued on his way, turning around again a short time later and eyeing him once more with interest. 
The sight of the maltreated legs had triggered sheer rage in him and only with difficulty had he been able to suppress the scream that had been brewing inside him. Just like the memories that rose along with it, at the same time. -
Flatly, he pressed his tongue against the warm skin on Ivar's neck, licking over it with relish. The throbbing of his heartbeat made itself felt as a gentle vibration on his tongue. He heard the rush of blood flowing through the human shell and the thought of wanting to taste it overwhelmed him. Greed took over. When already on the outside such a foretaste of the sweetest nectar was waiting for him, how delicious would Ivar's blood be then?
His grip around Ivar's waist tightened, his nails deformed into claws almost leaving small holes in the fabric. His sharp teeth grew, scratched over the sensitive skin while he alternated between licking it and covering it with kisses. He was seconds away from plunging his teeth into the thick vein, ready to satisfy his curiosity and hunger, but the tip of a sharp object pressing into his side, right below his rotten heart, made him pause. 
Carefully, he licked over the tempting spot once more before lifting his head and looking Ivar in the eye. 
Already as he moved away, the pressure at his side also eased, even though the sharp end still lingered menacingly close to his body. Nevertheless, he was not afraid. He could read in Ivar's eyes that he had no intention of driving the peg deeper. It was merely a warning. The marking of a border that should not be crossed.
Devoutly, as if it weren't only Ivar's legs that seemed fragile, he enclosed his face with both hands and examined it for a moment, putting all the love he had for him into his gaze.
"I promise that I won't harm you. More than that, I promise that no one will ever hurt you again. No one will ever lay a hand on you again and cause you pain. From now on, I will protect you. No matter what it costs."
He saw Ivar frown as he let the words sink in. They didn't seem to make any sense to him. How could they, if he didn't remember?
"I don't need protection. I can stand up for myself."
The same pride as before gleamed in Ivar's eyes. The same confidence that almost bordered on arrogance, which had fascinated him even way back then. He smiled at him and nodded in understanding.
"I know. And yet I will protect you. I am your loyal servant and anyone who harms even a hair on your head will die. Like all the others before. That is my promise to you." He kept his voice soft, almost a whisper, even when no one was around to overhear.
"No one has ever hurt me."
"Your legs tell a different story."
He watched Ivar as he looked down at himself for a moment as if he had to see once again what had been done to him. Something so terrible that even centuries later it was still manifest in his body.
"I was born this way. It's nobody's fault, it's just the genes." Ivar sounded puzzled. Partly unsure maybe if this was actually the reason.
He stroked over the soft skin on Ivar's cheek, felt the first stronger hairs forming on his jawline under his fingertips. He left it at that. It was obvious that Ivar didn't remember the details and that he was struggling with himself inside. He could see it in his inquiring gaze, could almost hear the questions that Ivar was surely asking himself inwardly, undecided about what he was actually doing here. But his interest seemed to be stronger, his desire for closeness far from satisfied.
By initiating the following kiss, Ivar also made a statement that he was not here to talk. While he had been shy and cautious before, he now took what he thirsted for more confidently. Willingly, he opened his mouth, welcoming the foreign tongue into his realm.
He could feel the warmth of Ivar's breath mingling with his own cold one, creating an electrifying current that surged through their bodies. The touch of his lips was soft, yet firm, their movements synchronized in a passionate dance. Their tongues and lips met with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Breathy moans and sighs that echoed in the air were like a symphony, created by their desire and need, a testimony to the intensity of their connection.
Once again the heartbeat of his once-lost love accelerated, his skin became warmer, exuding a pleasant fragrance that crept into his nose, taking hold of his whole being. Everything around him was once again forgotten, declared unimportant.  His world was Ivar and Ivar alone and he took this place as self-confident as ever.
His hands roamed over Ivar's back, possessively, yet tenderly tracing patterns along his spine, further igniting the fire that burned within them. Ivar's fingers clawed into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening their kiss even more. They only separated to get rid of each other's shirts. In a hurry, they tore them off their bodies and threw them carelessly on the floor, where also the wooden peg had found its resting place in the meantime. 
The air crackled around them and fire blazed in their eyes as they looked at each other breathlessly for a moment. Their bodies yearned for more, their hands could not leave each other, slid exploratively over naked skin. Once again their lips found each other, sealing their testament of passion anew.
He started to open Ivar's pants, slid his hands in the sides, wandered to his butt, and dug his fingers into the plump cheeks, kneading them while he pressed Ivar closer, letting their hips gyrate against each other. Another moan was breathed into his mouth, unleashing another storm of desire to unfold. Without effort, he lifted Ivar up and helped him wrap his legs around his waist before walking to the bed on the other side of the room, continuing to kiss as if Ivar didn't need oxygen either.
When he reached the bed, he bent down and let Ivar slide gently onto the mattress. He propped himself up with his hands, and bedded himself on top of him, gyrating his hips again. Their moans mingled and Ivar leaned his head back to catch his breath, thus invitingly presenting his seductive neck to him. Without hesitation, he let his lips slide back there, kissing his way over the throbbing vein. He didn't linger there long, feeling how Ivar was tensing up again. Purposefully, he slid to his collarbone, licking his way down to one erect bud, nibbling on it, causing Ivar to voice his delight.
The scent that emanated from Ivar wrapped him in an invisible cloak.  It had changed in the last few minutes, had intensified, and he felt like he was lying on the softest pillows, carried by the warmth that poured out of him.
The hands that ran through his hair, clawing almost painfully tightly into it, unmistakably pushed him deeper. He let Ivar guide him, but still took the time to explore his upper body first with tongue and lips,  spoiling kisses here and there.
A tremor ran through Ivar's body and a sound of relief escaped his mouth as he opened his pants further and hastily pulled them down to his knees along with his underwear, freeing that part of his body that craved attention the most.
Desirously he looked at the wet shimmering tip, which stretched towards him. The witness of Ivar's lust was emblazoned on it, arousing in him the need to taste it. Turning his head sideways, he licked the hot flesh with the flat of his tongue, saving the best for last, when he finally absorbed the drop with the tip of his tongue, letting the salty taste melt on his tongue.
Ivar whimpered as his lips closed around the tip, begging for more with the next gasping exhale. He was only too happy to comply with this request, given that his own hunger for more was far from being satisfied.  Nibbling, he let his lips glide over the head, savoring each new drop of pleasure as it rose to the surface. He relished the deep sighs that were coming from Ivar's mouth, bathed in the knowledge that it was he who was giving him this pleasure, these moments of absolute bliss.
Once again he licked over the entire length, noticing the trembling that flowed through Ivar's fragile legs, before he opened his mouth and placed it around the tip, this time taking it deep inside him. Immediately the grip on his hair tightened, urging his head deeper.
Sucking blood was a necessity for him to stay alive.
Sucking Ivar's cock was like a revelation that made him feel alive again.
The pulsing that spread through his mouth made him feel like he had a heartbeat of his own. He took Ivar deeper inside him, letting the sensation penetrate further down his throat. The sounds emanating from Ivar became more and more indignant, his hips reared up, his movements became desperate. He tried to follow the rhythm, willingly letting himself be used for Ivar's own pleasure, not letting the roughness deter him. He let it happen, enjoying the satisfaction he could give Ivar with a little sucking and bobbing his head up and down. He hadn't felt this fulfilled in a long time.
And something else distracted him, making his thoughts wander off.
The buzz of Ivar's blood sounded loudly in his ears. Two thick veins on his lower abdomen sought his attention. They stood out clearly. He saw them pulsing, and he could almost see through the skin how the surely delicious blood was pumped into Ivar's lower body at a hurried pace. His hunger for it grew with every second. A growl came deep from his throat as the urge finally overcame him, bouncing as a vibration against Ivar's cock, eliciting an equally guttural moan from his sweet prince.
He freed himself from Ivar's hard grip, sucked the tip of the shaft again intensely, and then let the cock slide out of his mouth completely. His tongue slid one last time over the length, made its way to the thigh on which he breathed fleeting kisses. Kissing and licking, he approached the lower belly, took Ivar's cock in his hand in the meantime, and continued pumping it in the same rhythm as he had previously spoiled it with his mouth. He increased the pressure around the head, sliding his thumb over the wet tip, rubbing the juice of their lust into both their skins.
Licking his lips, he came closer to one of the pulsating veins, firstly, just pressing his tongue against its pulse, letting it pass over him. He felt how the greed turned his features animalistic and how his teeth extended. It took all his strength, but he raised his head briefly to take a look at Ivar. A smile flitted across his features as he once more realized how gorgeous he was. His beloved had his eyes closed, his features tense with pleasure, his lips slightly open, breathing heavily. His fingers clutched at the sheet to his left and right, and his hips continued to thrust toward his hand, demanding.
He is mine was the prevailing thought as he lowered his head again. Forgotten was the previously made promise.
A scream fought its way through Ivar's lips, triggered by the shock when he couldn't hold on any longer, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Ivar's lower abdomen. The metallic taste of his blood immediately filled his mouth, increasingly befogging his senses. Greedily he sucked the juice of life into himself, was overwhelmed by its delicious taste which he now well remembered.
Ivar reared up briefly, trying to push him away, but his resistance was only half-hearted, disarmed by his hand still pumping Ivar's arousal in a steady rhythm. He continued to drink, feeling the twitching in his hand grow stronger until he heard Ivar moan loudly. The feeling of warm drops landing on his cheek caught his attention and out of the corner of his eye he saw how Ivar slumped limply back onto the mattress, trying to catch his breath. 
Weak hands tried to push him away once again, but he hadn't had enough, kept sucking the delicious blood into his mouth, intoxicated. 
"Heahmund, please don't."
The soft, almost brittle voice of Ivar reached his ears and with a jolt he came to, jerked his head up and pressed his palm on the small wounds to stop the bleeding, but also to avoid being overrun by lust and hunger again.
He hadn't heard that name for a long time, had never used it again after his biggest defeat so far. The memory that came with it was too painful.
They looked at each other. Silently, yet he read so much in Ivar's eyes. Realization shimmered in them, accompanied by tears that tried to flood out. With the back of his hand, he first wiped his mouth, removing the bloody residue from his lips, before leaning down to Ivar, stopping just before his lips. With his thumb, he collected a tear that had made its way out of the corner of Ivar's eye as a glittering pearl.
"My sweet prince," he whispered before sealing their lips again, encouraged by the hand that had settled on his neck, pressing him closer.
The taste of his own blood didn't seem to deter Ivar. Much more it spurred him on, made him become more impetuous again. It was going to be a long night. Of that he was sure. A night in which he would hear his old name even more often, breathed and moaned and accompanied by sweet sounds.
It was time for a new identity anyway and Heahmund knew exactly which one he wanted to revive.
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0nelittlebirdtoldme · 7 months
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My own RMSE fic - for a fandom I haven't written for before!
Vikings (TV) | Ivar the Boneless/Bishop Heahmund | 3700 words | Smut | M/M  | Rated E | Relevant Tags: Dubious Consent, Power Dynamics, Age Difference
“I subject myself to your orders,” Heahmund just says calmly, his words lacking any emotion. “Utterly. Fully.”
But it isn’t good enough for Ivar. “Prove it.” His teeth shine white in the dim light, glimmering up to the other man.
Or: Ivar demands for Heahmund to prove his loyalty to him.
Pretty sure @alcorc once expressed interest for me to write Viking fic (if i misremember, please forgive me). Also tagging @mikaharuka and @argyleheir, in case any of you feel like checking it out 🖤
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otcc · 5 months
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Vikings and Vikings: Valhalla Recs!
Phew, it's been a minute since I've done one of these. Now back with a new design and additional fandom! Keep in mind that this rec list is my personal taste and yours might differ. I managed to read twelve fics despite the year I had and I think twelve fics for twelve months is a good number. (list below the cut)
Crossing the Abyss by @northernxstories - E - Multi - 23,6k
A beautifully written Space AU with polyamorous pairings. The relationships between the characters are just as interesting to read about as the bigger story of their journey. And I don't think I'm biased in the least, just because I made part of the art. This story is a whole treat!
Summary: The Kattegat was a unique vessel, designed to cross the expanse of space known as the Abyss. Once a ship enters the Abyss, the stresses surrounding the vessel increased exponentially and there was no known means of navigation in the starless void. Captain Bjorn Ragnarsson, known as Bjorn Ironside for his ability to survive seemingly impossible battles, has relied often on his brothers, Ivar, Ubbe and Hvitserk, and his sister, Gyda, to crew his ship.
Ivar was determined to defeat the impossible Abyss and has heard of a scholar who has invented a method of navigation that might be able to accomplish the task. Gyda and Ivar came up with a plan to get this information and if necessary, kidnap the scientist. Once on board the ship, the scientist is faced with unexpected challenges and rewards. However, before they can attempt the journey, Gyda must face her past.
October Rust by @bouncehousedemons - T - Ubbe/OFC - 1,9k
Wonderful imagery throughout the whole fic and and a great continuation of Salt of the Earth and Sea, which I also highly recommend to read! Summary: Ubbe assumes his lover has met a grisly demise, until an unexpected reunion with his brother proves otherwise.
polish the blood and the bruise by @underragingwaves - M - Hvitserk - 4,7k
Soldier Hvitserk, veterinarian Ubbe and a kitten. All very strong points to sell this fic, but please, it is so much more! If you like military themed stories, are a sucker for angst and family bonding this fic will hit all the right spots. I love it dearly and I'm sure so will you. It's also a nice crossover with Vikings: Valhalla characters.
Summary: Hvitserk came home from war, or so they tell him. Most days, he begs to differ about whether he ever made it out of the desert.
Reactions of your Kind by @ulfrsmal - E - Ubbe/Hvitserk - 3,1k
A bit of forbidden action in a hot spring and very nice mental images being painted along the way. Kudos to the lovely author!
Summary: Plagued by thoughts and desires he shouldn’t have had, Ubbe retreated to the hot springs outside of Kattegat… and had his bath interrupted by the one person he’d hoped wouldn’t see him so weak.
Sleepy Mornings by @ritual-unions - E - Ubbe/OFC - 7k
This is a story that reads like devouring your favorite food, while savoring it for as long as possible. Tender and electrifying and Ubbe is so very in character, I love it.
Summary: Winnifred lives a sheltered life as a Christian woman in King Alfred’s court. Not truly understanding the meaning of sexual pleasure her new husband, Ubbe Ragnarsson, is more than willing to show her the path.
I wish I knew how to quit you by @niishiki - E - Ivar/Heahmund - 1,2k
To make it short, if you love the naughty forbidden church sex, old/young pairing and Ivar being a little shit, this is a must-read.
Summary: Bishop Heahmund is a man of God - yet, he finds himself unable to resist temptation time and time again.
Til the light comes back by @naps4bats - T - Emma/Canute - 5,4k
I really liked how canon was translated into modern day AU and how well it worked! It's a lovely story with all the characters we like and don't like but still love to read about.
Summary: Emma and Canute enjoy a brief romance during a power outage. A couple of weeks later, they find their real lives intertwine.
Summer Days, Summer Nights by @encomium-emmae - T - Emma/Canute - 3.5k
An absolute lovely read for this pairing, set in a modern day AU. I like me some competitive Emma and Canute duo!
Summary: During a week of mandated vacation at a beach resort, Emma encounters a dark-haired stranger. Too bad he turns out to be a first-rate jerk.
Lost Amongst the Meadow by @emma-ofnormandy - M - Emma/Canute - 1,5k
A canon compliant piece that fits perfectly like a missing scene!
Summary: Canute wakes to an empty bed and sets out to find his wife in the early summer dawn.
to look at me and think of conquest by @mercurygray - M - Godwin/OFC - 2,5k
Absolutely adore the OFC Edith and her chemistry with Godwin. This 'verse has a few more little stories on tumblr and they are definitely worth checking out in the authors #edith eadig tag!
Summary: Godwin of Wessex knew how to be useful. He’d been Aethelred’s advisor before he’d been Edmund’s; before the Danes had left he’d made himself invaluable to Canute, too. And now that the first wife had taken up residence, it looked as though she, too, was availing herself of Godwin’s offered expertise.
Godwin has also never been a man who needed help - but he won't be able to deceive the Queen on this particular matter alone.
I Will Join You by @shelivesinhermind - Gen - Leif & Liv - 641 words
Missing scene potential. Wonderfully written and the respect Liv deserved to receive after her death.
Summary: A funeral for Liv.
The End of the Beginning by toughtobeashamgod - T - Freydis/Harald - 1,1k
Directly set after Freydis kills Kåre and even though it's rated T, it's a little bit gory due to the description of blood everywhere. Nevertheless, this fic was a nice little read and fits seamlessly into the canon 'verse.
Summary: They had come so far into this new world, only for it to end so quickly.
Read and share, share and read, loves! ❤️
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barnes-lothbrok · 1 year
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Ivar and Bishop Heahmund have matching scars
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jrhysmeyers · 5 months
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HEAHMUND IN EVERY EPISODE 5.06 — The Message
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everythinganything0 · 9 months
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I FINISHED A HEAHMUND X IVAR FANFIC AND I AM NOT OKAY.
I NEED MORE PLEASE
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thunderfaucet · 11 months
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Heathen & Christian
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heavenlymorals · 1 year
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Feather Kisses and Romanticism
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Summary: Heahmund wakes up before his boyfriend and takes the time to admire him.
Sometimes, a man just wants to write short pure, meaningless fluff about one of my favorite fluff tropes. It feels strange to write stuff without angst to be honest haha!
As far as Heahmund was concerned, he was the luckiest man to ever exist on God’s beautiful green earth. Did he deserve that self-inflicted title? Probably not, no matter how much he kept the Lord close to his heart. But it didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, he was King Midas if King Midas was able to control what he transfigured into gold. Selfish, quick to anger, and prideful Heahmund was the luckiest bastard to ever exist, and to him, that was a simple truth, like how the sky is blue and how water is NOT wet (Don’t get him started with that). 
What in the world could make a man think this way? 
Well, it’s usually one of three things. Money, fame, or love. Or two of the three or all three. 
Heahmund was so lucky because of lucky number three. Love. He was in love. In love so deeply and vehemently that it seemed almost ridiculous, sort of like when you skim through some cheap, paperback romance in the back of a seedy bookstore and start cackling because of the absurdity of the wording and syntax and literary devices that the author was so sure would make the reader tear at their heartstrings in agony when in truth, they just wrote the longest joke to ever exist. 
What a strange emotion love is. The most beautiful thing to perhaps ever exist. No wonder so many poets and authors and singers will harp on about love. Love this, love that. No wonder. True love is a strange paradox of being the most selfless person you can be for another person all because of a selfish desire. Perhaps that was a bit pragmatic, but it was definitely not prosaic. 
In this soft sea of blankets and pillows, the sun shines photogenically through the blinds, making golden strips on the floor that trail onto the white sheets of the bed. The entire room was blanketed in a sea of morning gold. The lighting reminded Heahmund of the canvas strokes that those romantic painters in the nineteenth century were so fond of, with their warm colors that can automatically put any man’s soul at ease. Works that came to his mind were The Ninth Wave by Ivan Aivazovsky and Ophelia by Friedrich Heyser. Perhaps it was a bit ironic to think about sweet Ophelia and how she became mad because of her love. Nevermind that. 
As the golden light trailed onto the linen, it crept onto the back of a certain someone’s head, carding its ethereal fingers across the back, making his dark umber hair shine like a halo. 
Heahmund smiled as he looked at the boy across from him. How the hell did he get so lucky? In what way did he please God for God to send him Ivar Lothbrok? Whatever he did, he probably couldn’t amount to it ever again, for goddamnit, how could he? He had all he could ever want or need right next to him, and the best part of it all? Ivar was his. His. It still felt strange on his tongue sometimes, knowing and saying that Ivar was his boyfriend, and not only knowing it, but feeling it so vehemently in every single vein, muscle, and bone in his body. He’s had numerous flings before, relationships too, but they never made him feel like this like his heart sprouted wings and is looked at as the most perfect and truest work of art in the eyes of Cupid or Eros. 
He stared dreamily at Ivar, so enraptured by his beauty. He looked like a painting. With the golden light seeping through the windows and hitting the back of his head, he looked like a beautiful painting, with his dark hair and his puffy strawberry lips. Not even real. But he was real. 
What drove him to love Ivar was his laughter, his manic gleam, his overwhelming intelligence, the way he could make him feel as if he was floating and weighed nothing, and so much more. He didn’t love Ivar because of his looks, but he certainly did not mind that part about his lover. Gorgeous fae. Dazzling Angel. He had a chuckle to himself the last time he called Ivar his angel.
“You do know that angels are just…masses of eyes and wings and rings and stuff, right? Literal Eldritch beasts? You'd go mad just by looking at them?" 
Heahmund rolled his eyes and gave Ivar a small peck on the lips. "Alright then? I go mad everytime I look at you. You're too beautiful for my mortal eyes." 
Ivar blushed, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink. He returned Heahmund's small kiss and wrapped his arms around the older man's waist, hugging him close. "Gods, you're something else." 
"I try." 
Ivar was still asleep. His thick, dark lashes fanned over as his eyes were still locked in sleep. They looked like doe lashes. One of Heahmund’s arms was thrown lazily across Ivar’s waist, filling the dip where his waist met his sides. His other arm trailed forwards, slightly, and gently brushed his finger against the lashes, feeling them tickle him slightly. He then brought his hand to trail gently across the rest of Ivar’s face. He gently moves a lone strand of hair that fell across Ivar’s face and pushed it to join the rest of that dark waterfall. He brushes his fingers across his temple, his beautiful cheekbones, and the underside of his jaw. Ivar felt that one, as he shifted a bit and Heahmund grinned. 
Bolder, he crept even closer to his sleeping angel and began to kiss him. On the tip of his nose, on both cheeks, on the crook of his neck. His incoming stubble no doubt tickled Ivar, ushering the boy to wither gently. 
At last, Ivar's eyes fluttered open. They call the eyes the windows to the soul and as Heahmund looked lovingly at Ivar's eyes, he could definitely understand why. Ivar's eyes pulled on the forearms of his soul, dragging him into an abyss of ecstatic bliss and joy. The blue looked like the blue where the sky would meet the sea. Gorgeous. Everything about him was gorgeous. Heahmund remembered that terrible day where Ivar broke down into tears at the thought that Heahmund would abandon him because of the scars that streaked his legs. Such baseless thoughts! Perfect. His Ivar was perfect.
The slits of his eyes showed the soul of the sea that took its place in his irises. In his sleepy state, his mouth formed an adorable smile as he reached upwards and gave the older man a peck on his lips. 
"This is the third time you've woken me up like this, Heahmund…"
Heahmund smiled, somewhat shyly. "I'm sorry, Love. I can't help myself." 
Ivar grinned and crawled on top of Heahmund, pinning him down with his weight. Heahmund wrapped his hands around Ivar's back, his fingers drumming on the smooth skin. Ivar started leaving feather-like kisses on Heahmund's neck, trailing down to his shoulder. 
"Oh, Heahmund…I can't help myself either." 
They stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's presence, bathed in golden light, a modern rendition of a romanticism painting. 
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popcorn1989 · 2 years
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Ivar and Heahmund Edit
I made this for @nothingtolosebutweight why? because I was inspired by her fanfics. Check her Storys out. I hope you like it my dear!
Song: Imagine Dragons - Enemy
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