#thorunn
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Shieldmaiden, beloved by the gods.
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Vikings + affectionate drunk!reader
Summary: How different Vikings characters would react to a normally unaffectionate reader becoming very clingy/cuddly once they get tipsy
Notes: Me??? posting?? it's crazy ik
Taglist: @bragisrunes @demon-of-the-ancient-world @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 (hmu to be added to any kind of taglist!)
Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN! (but might take a while)
Ragnar
Whaat this is crazy
He so didn’t totally expect this from you
Calls you a lightweight and teases you
Full well knowing you won’t get angry at him this time
Lagertha
She’s the type to raise an eyebrow
Watches you be super nice to all your friends with an amused smile
Gives you a cup of water to help you sober up
Enjoys the attention way too much
Aslaug
Sober up? Aslaug will pour you another cup
Takes full advantage of the affection
Pretends like it never happened when you ask her the next day
Gets giggly when you get giggly
Athelstan
So confused
I hc that for some reason Athelstan can drink his fill so he never gets tipsy
Why are you suddenly so nice?
You like him????
More than a little suspicious
Ubbe
‘oh gods’
He already has Hvitserk crying his heart out and now you’re starting to smile??
Honored
Makes you sober up for his sake
Hvitserk
You can try to be more affectionate than him
Drunk Hvitserk is smiling, cuddling, eating
He’s tailing Ivar, telling him all about how much he loves his brother Ivar without realizing that its him
But he still gets even happier when he sees you
Sigurd
Don’t expect him not to be drunk while you are
Also super affectionate drunk
A bundle of hugs
Will make you sing scales if you try to sing a song
Ivar
Hates that his hardened warrior is melting (does not hate it)
Why are they suddenly cuddly and all smiley?
Ugh this will ruin their reputation!!!
Totally enjoys the attention
Thorunn
At your feet
Immediately
She’s never seen you like this and she loves it. A lot.
Becomes affectionate in turn
#thorunn#ivar#sigurd#hvitserk#ubbe#athelstan#aslaug#lagertha#ragnar#vikings#ivar the boneless#ivar x reader#history vikings#ivar lothbrok#hvitserk ragnarsson#sigurd ragnarsson#vikings fanfiction#ragnar lothbrok#hvitserk x reader#ubbe x reader#athelstan x reader#lagertha x reader#aslaug x reader#ragnar x reader#tw alcohol
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Gunnhild and þorunn look alike.
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Some Vikings Characters But They're Clickbait Articles
Ragnar:
"This Man Commissioned His Friend to Build a Boat - You Won't BELIEVE The Reason Why!"
Rollo:
"Man Betrays Brother in the Worst Way, But His Reaction Will Blow Your Mind!"
Lagertha:
"Wait Until You See How This Woman Dealt With Two Crappy Marriages in a Row"
Floki:
"Priests HATE Him - Read How This Man Keeps His Friends and Family Pagan"
Bjorn:
"This Kid Wanted to Be Just Like His Dad, But Did That Turn Out How He Expected?"
Athelstan:
"Experts Say Living With Pagans Can Turn You Away From God - One Monk Seems To Be Defying the Odds"
Aslaug:
"Is She REALLY a Witch? Wealthy Mother of Four Finally Addresses Rumours, and Her Answer Will Shock You!"
Ecbert:
"He Attempted to Make Peace With the Vikings - How it Ended Blew Everyone Away!"
Siggy:
"Is Your Partner Filled with Regret and Self Loathing? Take A Few Tips From This Woman Who's Seen it All"
Thorunn:
"Slave to Shieldmaiden - One Woman's Inspiring Journey Will Amaze You"
#vikings#vikings series#vikings shitpost#ragnar lothbrok#rollo lothbrok#lagertha#floki#bjorn ironside#athelstan#aslaug#king ecbert#siggy#thorunn#*shrugs*
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It's good to take a break from nanowrimo to read for a little bit ☺️
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#vikings#thorunn#Þorunn#ubbe#hvitserk#pastel concept#vtrash moodboard#I just felt like it#I blame Taylor Swift's Lavender Haze song
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if I had a voice, I would sing
read on Ao3
Thorunn and Ivar, through the years.
Written for the @vikingsevents Summer Solstice Challenge, Day 1: Meadow
“How blue are Ivar’s eyes today?” Aslaug asks, and Ivar opens his eyes wide for Ubbe to check.
“Very blue,” he reports.
“Then you must not train today,” Aslaug says, caressing his cheek.
It is the third straight week she has said this, and Ivar finds it doubtful that she will ever relent. He must watch from the sidelines yet again, pointing out his brother’s mistakes. Even Siggy has a small shield now.
Hvitserk takes the opportunity to steal from Ubbe’s plate.
Ubbe pulls up the cart. This is the part where Ivar will lift his arms up, and he will put him into the cart, and he will drag him along so that he can watch them train.
This time, when his brother reaches under his armpits, he screams.
“Ubbe!” Aslaug scolds, rushing over to comfort him.
She rubs his chest and tries to lift him.
“No!” He screams again. “No, no!”
Aslaug sighs, and rubs at her eyes.
He struggles out of his chair, pushing aside worried hands- all except Sigurd, because of course Sigurd wouldn't be worried about him.
Ivar the Boneless, whose great deed is living by the grace of his mother, falls to the ground like a worm.
As he crawls, there is nothing great about Ivar. But he crawls, because it is the only thing he can do, and if it is the choice between two humiliations, then he will choose the one that is on his own terms.
It is more exhausting than he expects. As soon as he is out of the line of sight of his family, he allows himself to breath as raggedly as he likes.
The dead weight of his legs drags him down, and yet he can feel the pain of them, the scrapes of his useless knees. His pants are ruined- not that that has ever been a concern for him, his mother will surely replace them on the morrow- and his hands are caked in dirt.
He carries on, and drags himself to the other side of the hall. He sits up, and leans against the wall, watching people pass by.
It is there that his brother’s wife finds him.
“What are you doing here, young Ivar?” Thorunn asks. Siggy is not with her. Most likely she is with his brothers, learning how to block and push with their small shields, learning how to strike with their small swords.
Without him. All of them, without him.
“Go away,” he says.
To his surprise, she does not immediately obey him.
“Does your mother know you here?” She asks, unconcerned.
“No.” The word escapes his lips against his will. “Please do not tell her.”
“Of course not.” She cocks her head. “I thought you would be training with your brothers.”
He glares down at his useless legs in response. He hopes their reality will make her uncomfortable; he already expects the sight of them to drive her away. But instead, she tilts her head and looks him in the eye.
“Ah. That explains why you are so angry.”
“I am not angry.” He seethes through his teeth.
She scoffs. “Of course you are angry. You are a slave to your body.”
He snarls, exposing his baby teeth. “I am no slave.”
"Perhaps not. But you lack choices. In my eyes, that makes you a slave."
He has no cutting comment for that, so he keeps his mouth shut.
“Do you want to learn how to fight?” She asks him, after an uncomfortable pause.
What a stupid question, he thinks.
“Of course I do.”
“Then you deserve to learn.” She crosses her arms. “Do you want me to carry you or do you want to crawl?”
“I want to crawl,” he says. “Where are we going?”
“To your first lesson.”
That is the first time she takes him to the meadow.
---
The lessons are slow-going, at first. There is quite a bit of trial and error.
For one, they must sneak away to the meadow, and there is not much he can do to hide himself from his watchful mother.
She starts him out on a stool, and teaches the most important lesson: how not to get hit.
They quickly rule out him ever using a shield. His balance is precarious enough to start with, and he cannot shift it for defense.
Ivar must make up for the lack of a shield with devastating offense, she decides. It is a similar fighting style to Bjorn’s, but where Bjorn uses hammering blows from above, Ivar will use his lower vantage point to surprise his opponents. Every party must be quickly turned to counterattack, every dodge must become a way to get inside an enemy's defenses.
After two weeks of lessons, he comes wearing gloves that allow his fingers to peek through, with bands around his forearms. His pants are thicker, too, and he has tied his legs together.
“Floki says that if I am to crawl everywhere, I should have a new pair of shoes,” he says cheerfully.
He has to adjust to holding the weapon with these new gloves.
It doesn’t take long for them to be crusted in mud.
---
“So this is how you have been spending your days, wife,” Bjorn says, leaning against a tree. “Making new memories in this meadow, hm?”
Thorunn snorts, smacking his shoulder. His brother laughs, clearly pleased with himself, and tugs on one of her braids.
Ivar pipes up, not happy to be left out. It happens to him far too often.
"I am learning to fight, Bjorn. She is teaching me."
“Should I be worried?” He asks her.
“Yes,” Ivar answers for her. “I will become a greater warrior than you. I will surpass you in all things.”
His eyebrows go up in a comical shock. “I should be careful, Thorunn. All my brothers aim to defeat me.”
"I would protect you," She says, "And Siggy would avenge you."
"Vengeance is the domain of sons, not daughters," Ivar says, irritated at how laughable they find this scenario to be.
“I must make do with what I have,” his brother says, completely unbothered by him. “But my father once told me that a father may be jealous of his sons, but a daughter will always be a light in your life.”
Ivar cannot help but think, what does Ragnar have to be jealous of?
“That’s enough rest,” Thorunn says. “Bjorn, you should go against him, since he intends to surpass you.”
She steps back as they ready their weapons.
Ivar has always known that his brother has possessed fearsome strength, but it is another matter entirely to face it himself.
Each of his swings is a hammer-blow, and it is all he can do to block against him.
The meadow rings with the song of steel, his desperate yells, until his brother binds their swords together and shoves, hard, knocking him to the ground.
His brother looks down at him, appraisingly. Ivar lifts his chin up, baring his teeth in feral defiance.
“You have learned well, brother,” Bjorn tells him, lifting him back onto the stump. “I would be honored to fight beside you one day.”
It feels like the highest praise.
---
Ivar parries Thorunn’s strike, barely shifting on his stump.
“That’s good,” she says, patting the length of her sword. “But you must be stronger with your counterattack.”
He nods, and prepares for another series of strikes.
She lifts her sword again, and attacks.
“What are you doing?”
She flinches out of reflex, while her young pupil merely stares.
Aslaug, hands covering her mouth, rushes to his side. Sigurd smugly looks on.
Thorunn’s mouth gapes in shock. She never thought Aslaug would make her way out here, but she should have known better. Aslaug would walk through fire for her beloved son.
“She’s teaching me, Mother.” Ivar has always been willful, but his defiance rarely comes this calmly.
“You could have gotten hurt.” Aslaug fusses over her youngest, checking him for bruising or broken bones.
Sigurd looks vaguely disappointed- but not surprised- by this turn of events.
“What were you thinking?” Aslaug whips her head around to Thorunn. Her kohl is smeared around her eyes, as if she’d been interrupted while applying it. Her eyes are murderous.
She knocks over a cup on the table, spilling wine.
What were you thinking?
She tangles her mistress’ hair with numb fingers.
What were you thinking?
She knocks the loom with her hip, causing a mistake.
What were you thinking?
No. You are a free woman now. She is no longer your mistress.
Thorunn pulls herself to her full height. Not as tall as Aslaug, but enough to look her in the eyes.
“He needs protection, yes, but he deserves choices. If Ivar wants to fight, then he should.”
She catches herself bracing for the slap. Certainly the bristling rage in Aslaug’s eyes always seemed to foretell that. Her body has still not forgotten slavery.
You are free, she repeats to herself, you are free.
She keeps her eyes away from her former mistress’ twitching hand. She will look her in the eyes.
You are free. You are free. You are free.
"Is this what you want, Ivar?" Aslaug asks, turning away from her.
"Yes, Mother," he says, blue eyes blazing.
"Then there is no doubt you will surpass even your father," She says, and turns to leave, Sigurd tramping behind her.
Once she is out of sight, Thorunn picks up her sword again.
"Let us return to our practice," She says, hiding the trembling of her fingers in the strength of her grip.
---
Once the two of them can practice openly, all things become easier.
Ivar comes up with a design so that his hand-axes have spikes on the handles, to make it all the more easy to crawl. He describes it to the blacksmith, hands flying.
He can fight with his brothers now. He is on a level where he can put them to a draw- with no small amount of dirty tricks. He can be with them on the training grounds.
But he prefers to learn from Thorunn, and the meadow, away from curious eyes. But also because she is much more willing to entertain his wilder ideas, and experiment.
“What if I was able to attack from below? On the ankles, or the knees?”
“You would be too easily trampled,” she says, frowning. “The front line would not be your place.”
“My brothers could throw me at the enemy,” he suggests. “Break their lines, and surprise them.”
Her eyes narrow, unsure if this is a legitimate suggestion.
His cheeky grin says otherwise.
“Tch,” she scoffs. “They would certainly be surprised.”
Thorunn tells him of Bjorn’s dream of the Mediterranean.
“I know already,” he says, with no small amount of childish pride. “Floki told me. That is why he is designing a new boat, as he did for my father.”
There it is, that slightest twist of the mouth, when he mentions his father. She never brings him up, not like any of the other members of the family.
“You knew my father, didn’t you?” Ivar asks her.
“Not very well,” she says. “I was only his slave.”
He cannot imagine his mentor as a slave. Ubbe has mentioned it of her before, so he knows that it is true. But he has never known her as anything other than a free woman. She was the one who taught him freedom.
“What was he like?”
She hesitates, the same way his mother does.
“He was a great man,” she says. “Inspiring. When he led, you wanted to follow, especially in battle.”
“I did not know you fought beside him.”
“Only twice,” she says. She points to her scar. Quite fearsome: he remembers cowering from it as a baby, and even when he first began training. “And I could not go to Paris with him.”
“I would have liked to go with him.” He pouts. “Of course, I doubt my mother will let me into battle at all.”
“We have not been on raids for years,” she says. “We have many years yet where we can convince her.”
He looks over at his unlikely champion, who has so casually pledged her support, and smiles.
---
The time has finally come, for him to enter battle, and although Thorunn is proud of her first- and only- student, now it is time for them to part ways.
“I don’t understand why you have to leave,” he says, pushing himself onto his stump again. “You should come to England with my father.”
“Ah, but I have been to England before,” she says. “I was promised Paris years ago, Ivar. And I intend to go beyond that.”
“What if you do not return, hm?”
“As long as I do not die before reaching Paris, I will be happy.” She shrugs.
He shrinks into himself, as if he could hide the words he says.
“I would like to fight with you,” he mutters. “I would like to fight with you, and my brothers, and my father.”
Ragnar had never liked her, had doubtless never noticed her while she was serving him. All she was to him was an error in his son’s judgment.
Thorunn remembers much of Ragnar, but it is doubtful he remembers her as anything other than mother to his first grandchild. Perhaps as the woman who carried that grandchild into battle, receiving a scar that still marks her.
Ivar does not remember anything of the reality of Ragnar. They have been fed a steady diet of stories, great tales that neither Aslaug nor Thorunn contradict. Thorunn, because she cannot be bothered. It amazes her that Aslaug seems to want her sons to have a good opinion of their great father.
“You have a choice here,” She says. “You can come with us, or you can go with your father, or you can stay with your mother.”
He bites his lip, his eyes wide.
“What do you want me to choose?” He asks quietly.
Sometimes, she forgets that Ivar looks up to her. The concept seems so ludicrous to her- the son of a king, asking the advice of a former slave. If she asked it of him, she might actually sway him.
“I want you to choose.” She says, finally. “Do not forget that you deserve choices. Always.”
When Ivar leaves, Aslaug hugs her sons in turn and kisses them on the forehead. She saves her tears for once Ivar boards their boat. They stand on the dock together, Ubbe holding his mother.
As the boat sail away from each other, Thorunn stares Ragnar in the eye, the way she never would have as his slave.
#vikings#thorunn#ivar ragnarsson#bjorn ironside#aslaug#vikingsevents#summer solstice#vikingssummer#fic#bjorn x thorunn#glory and gore
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New Muse!
Thorunn
Shieldmaiden
Warrior
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😔🤙camote
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One thing I’m remembering that I really didn’t enjoy about Vikings was how disposable daughters were. It got to a point where if a character had a baby and it was a girl, or there was just generally a young daughter anywhere, you just knew she was going to die fairly soon whenever the narrative needed a general death. For a show that’s all “yeaaaa shieldmaidens, look at how much better the Norse women are treated compared to the wives and daughters in England!!!” it’s uhhhh disappointing.
#especially floki's daughter#there was all this build-up and he had that prophecy that she was going to do amazing things#apparently not#gyda was just a way for ragnar to feel guilty after aslaug#and thorunn's arc was all for absolutely nothing bc the writer wanted to give his daughter a bigger part#so he wrote thorunn out so his daughter could replace her#so much lost potential
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There is a storm inside her now, a storm that truly has her living up to her name, a storm that she is now free to unleash.
- dropping glasses just to hear them break by @dragonsoftheeast
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Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler
A/N: this was, as always, super fun to write. i decided to add in some super underrated characters bc i like them sm
tagged: @alicedopey, @demon-of-the-ancient-world (if u want to be added - comment)
Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!
Ragnar
Slightly uncomfortable at the beginning of it
Nah jk, he’s hella touch-starved
Two minutes in he melts into you
Will maybe ask you an ‘are you okay?’ after he’s got his fill
Didn’t want to ruin the moment
When you tell him you’re not okay he just starts cuddling you again
Lagertha
Immediately knows something is off
Makes you tell her before she cuddles you
Will get you some or something to eat
Gives you a big bear hug
Also makes you go for a stupid mental health walk
Bjorn
“Do you want to fuck?”
He does not know what you want from him
Awkward side hug
Apologizes later that day and gives you a bone-crushing hug
Ubbe
He already knew something was off
Lets you hug him and then puts an arm on your shoulder
‘Are you alright?’
Will do whatever he can to help you
Also gives extremely good hugs
Provides enough blankets
Hvitserk
At first he doesn’t notice
He’s just so, so happy you want to cuddle him
Eventually he goes ‘are you okay?’
Listens to whatever went wrong for you that day
Then becomes very clingy in turn
A little puppy
Ivar
As someone who I hc to not like touch that much himself, he’s irritated, mostly
Gives you an awkward hug back before he creates some distance
Gives you a ‘what are you on?’ stare
If you talk, he’ll listen
Very reluctant to hug you
As if you’re a prickly cactus, but he still manages at least one decent hug
Athelstan
2 words: touch. Starved.
You don’t live in a monastery to receive hugs all day
Soggy wet kitten aesthetic
‘Uhm okay’ *hugs you back* ‘What’s wrong?’
As someone who’s basically English, he makes you tea
And hugs you again
Thorunn
She’s talking to her friends when you come over and start grabbing her arm like a koala
Doesn’t mind – she loves you, and she’s not ashamed
Eventually, she asks you if something happened
Will take some one on one time with you to take care of you
Does not mind the clinginess though
Elsewith
Oh she immediately knows
Ofc she’ll ask you what’s wrong
Takes time off her queenly duties and comforts you
No one is allowed to upset you further
Poor Alfred knocks on the door and Elsewith shoves him out
Cuddles you until you feel better
#ragnar#thorunn#elsewith#ivar#hvitserk#ubbe#bjorn#lagertha#vikings#ivar the boneless#ivar x reader#history vikings#ivar lothbrok#bjorn ragnarsson#vikings ivar#vikings imagine#hvitserk x reader#ubbe x reader#bjorn x reader#lagertha x reader
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rcbcrn:
getting off the boat from england and setting his feet on home soil made athelstan let out a long sigh. it felt good to finally be home after so many days of staying in a place he no longer called home. seeing thorunn brought a smile upon his lips.❛hello thorunn. it is good to see you again. and the trip? it went well. no unnecessary bloodshed,❜ he said.
❛has eveything gone well here?❜
“What happened in England?”
Thorunn was curious to know, hoping that Athelstan would expand on his answer. She could go wherever she wished now, if she wanted, and perhaps England could be a good place to start. She recalled that they had gone raiding, and she wanted more details on how it went.
“It has! Queen Aslaug freed me from being a slave, which I thought impossible.”
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Vikings going to the home improvement store:
Fell in the cacti display while wandering around the gardening section: Lagertha, Ecbert
Being yelled at by employees while frantically ascending the Forbidden Orange Stairs: Bjorn
Taking sick selfies in the lighting aisle: Siggy, Thorunn
Shitting in the display toilets: Floki
Tokyo drifting one of those flatbed carts down the aisles: Ragnar, Torstein
Lying on the flatbed, holding on for dear life: Athelstan
Lovingly touching all the carpet samples: Helga
Stealing paint chips for aesthetic purposes: Kwenthrith, Rollo
Just wanted some goddamn light bulbs and everyone else ruined it: Aslaug
In the car sleeping: The Seer
#the seer#vikings#vikings series#vikings meme#source: the internet#lagertha#king ecbert#bjorn ironside#siggy#thorunn#floki#ragnar lothbrok#torstein#athelstan#helga#kwenthrith#rollo lothbrok#aslaug
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Oh hey, didn't see you there.
I was just reading an epically amazing scifi book. 😉
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