#I think not lol

[oops-it-happened-again]

Chapter 4

Izzy reports to her friends and decides that she can't just passively bear all these new developments.

-> Chapter 3

Words: 1355

Warnings: mention of virginity, mention of injury

“Where is Osferth?”

Izzy stared at the screen in confusion; as promised, she’d joined a video call with her friends to assure them that no shadowy monster had appeared out of the darkest corners of the city to drag her to its secret lair.

Instead of her friend, though, she was looking at Uhtred’s handsome face for the second time in one evening.

“He’s in the shower,” she informed him, feeling oddly defensive. “He’s a funny one—I twisted my ankle, and he bodily carried me home.”

“Why is he in the shower? What did you do to him? He’s not…he’s never…Oh…” Uhtred looked positively flustered.

“I’ve done nothing to him,” Izzy cried and winced when a side-step drove a lance of dull pain up her leg.

“Where are you?” Ethel interrupted, pushing into the frame forcefully. “Are you…cooking? Did Edith not warn you?”

“I’m not allowed to cook for the man who’s borne me like a babe in his arms? Are you insane? As long as you don’t explain yourself to me, I’ll do as I see fit.” Izzy hissed, giving her sauce a provocative stir with an old, wooden spoon.

Then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you mean by ‘he’s never…’?”

“Don’t tell her, it will only inflame her further,” Ethel warned thunderously.

“We’re all pretty convinced he’s never been with a woman.” Uhtred cackled.

“Stop telling people that,” Osferth interrupted, standing in the doorway like the wrath of God. “She’s not interested in that!”

“Oh, but she is! She definitely is,” Izzy contradicted and gave him a sweet smile over her shoulder. “Please sit down in the living room. I’ll be with you in a second.”

Turning back to her phone, she saw Edith join at last.

“How are you doing, babe?” she asked, leaning against an open window.

“Turn up the volume woman, I can’t hear anything!” Finan cried from seemingly a good distance away.

“Osferth let her get hurt!” Uhtred jeered.

“Is he standing outside?” Izzy interjected, but everyone just made a dismissive hand gesture as if the answer was evident.

“Did he?” Finan then bellowed. “Are you both all right? Do you need someone to come over?”

“I twisted my ankle,” Izzy corrected, raising her voice almost comically. “I’m perfectly fine, and so is your precious friend. We’ve come to no harm. Now, before dinner gets cold…”

“You’ve cooked dinner for him?” Edith slammed her open palm against her forehead in wordless disbelief.

“Well, someone has decreed that he’s to stay with me,” Izzy commented in an increasingly snarky tone. “I might as well make it worth his while, shouldn’t I?”

She was about to end the call, her thumb already hovering over the red button, when she hesitated.

“The way I see it, people have come to defend and protect us even though you’ve disparaged them adamantly. The least I can do is show the man some kindness—I know not what wrongs they have inflicted on you, and I doubt you’d tell me in their presence, but they’ve been nothing but good to me thus far.”

“You have a good heart,” Edith sighed. “And I fear it might lead you astray. You do not know the circumstances of his birth, and he doesn’t know yours. Do be careful!”

“Edith,” Ethel gasped. “That is not your secret to allude to.”

“The Baby Monk is a good man,” Finan yelled through the open window behind Edith. “He won’t hurt her—stop putting dreadful ideas in the woman’s mind.”

“He might tell her if he so wishes—it’s hardly a secret,” Edith, ignoring Finan, replied with a lopsided shrug. “We just want you to be careful! It’s too easy to fall into something that will…put you in danger, body and mind. Not Osferth himself, of course, he’s…as good as they make them. In theory.”

“Your enemies seem to be mine already anyway,” Izzy laughed wryly. “Fate is unpredictable, and I might have been foolish to think that I could outrun mine. If my past came for me tonight, would you desert me? Hide?”

“Of course not,” Ethel burst out, vexed by the mere thought.

“What past? Are you in peril?” Uhtred shoved himself into the frame once more from below. “Osferth must be told at once!”

“Not tonight, no,” Izzy chuckled. “I’ve never been safer than I am in this very moment, I think. Good night.”

“What past?” came the echo of another voice from behind her. “Are there people who wish to hurt you?”

Blowing up her cheeks, Izzy turned around slowly. “Only if you think matrimony is evil.”

“It can be—do you wish to be married?” Very carefully, Osferth pried the ladle from her hand and set it down beside the bubbling pot.

“Oh yes, I do. Not to a man my father picked for me, though, and not on another’s terms. But enough of that—tell me about yourself!”

Izzy was unsure why she so yearned to know more about a man she’d been warned not to get too close to, but she couldn’t control her boundless curiosity which had thrown her into many an unfortunate situation before.

As he stood in the oblique light of her cheap kitchen lamp, she had to admit that it couldn’t have been the baggy, beige sweatshirt or the ill-fitting, ripped jeans that had caught her attention.

“I haven’t given much thought to getting married, I’m afraid,” Osferth replied tersely, and Izzy automatically wondered how much of her conversation with her friends he’d overheard. “My father, if you need to know, would never dream of organising a match for me.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Izzy said as she started to heap pasta onto the only two plates she owned in this flat—she took a perverse pride in their plain, blue enamel.

When she turned back around, the epiphany hit her like a gut punch. He looked kind and tender, and the fact that he had eyes like a summer sky didn’t hurt either.

In a quiet, lanky way, he was compellingly handsome, but his closed stance—arms crossed, brow puckered in mistrust—made him look much more fragile than his height suggested.

Edith’s warnings echoed through her mind—Izzy decisively pushed them aside.

“Let’s eat; I still don’t know what’s going on. There seem to be a lot of secrets in this place I will have to dig up,” she sighed as she walked past Osferth, woefully aware of the tiny flinch he tried to suppress when her arm brushed across the back of his hand.

“There are no secrets. I know that Edith calls us ‘The Lost Boys’ behind our back. Uhtred and Ethel dated for a while, but she’s decided to prioritise her career. I take it you know that she’s married to another. Finan and Edith had a thing, then she took off to study medicine abroad. His next girlfriend died in a rock-climbing accident. Sihtric is coming to terms with the fact that he and his girl have grown apart.”

He exhaled loudly. “And I’m just me.”

“Is what they say true?” Izzy asked, aware of how unbearably direct that question was, but she couldn’t focus on the revelations he’d imparted while his beautiful eyes were still drilling holes into her forehead. “Do you not hold with womenfolk?”

“I’ve kissed girls before,” he replied defensively. “I have! But…the schooling I’ve had, the life I’ve led—let’s say women were a rare blessing, and…”

“Do they make you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted.

“Do I make you nervous?”

Her gaze was calm and steady even if slightly amused as she sat down on her couch again and looked up at him expectantly.

Izzy didn’t know what had come over her—she usually wasn’t the kind of woman to flirt randomly with men she’d only just met, but something about his demure demeanour and candid eagerness to please moved her to insanity.

“Are we asking the hard questions then? Before dinner?” he sighed, shuffling his feet against the worn carpet as if unsure whether he should sit down by her side or remain standing. “Very well!”

Thank you for reading!

If this is something that could interest you, please let me know!

Read this on Ao3

-> Chapter 5

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[sleepygaymerdisease]

[starrysharks]

ghanaian miku

[sabertoothwalrus]

modern au laios

[inkedberries]

after patrolling, unwinding in a diner somewhere ...

throw the man a bone batman geez

[wuntrum]

the brushes you use for digital art dont Actually matter that much and its more about core art principles and technique or whatever. but maybe this next brush will be the one

[doccywhomst]

[liquidstar]

If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

[sunbloomdew]

do you ever see a person and you are overcome with incredible fondness? and you just think "oh." but not in a romantic or sexual way you are just filled with warmth and it makes you happy, it just does. and you think "i'm so happy you exist. i'm happy you are somewhere out there in the world, doing your thing". it's love but also not entirely

like people are lovely and i feel it in my entire chest like a burning candle that smells like roses and a sunny day

[bereft-of-frogs]

There’s that post that’s like ‘everyone should get into a tiny niche fandom at least once’ fully agree, that was really fun -- but I would like to add that everyone should get into a fandom where their opinions run counter to major fanon because it really teaches you about sticking to your guns and trusting your interpretation of the text without having to rely on peer validation

because WHAT are people talking about sometimes

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[spookberry]

this came to me in a vision

[valtsv]

i think it's so fun that "damn" is such a casual curse word now that it's basically become divorced completely from its original meaning. like oops i dropped my phone, time to invoke the wrath of god about it in the most mildly annoyed tone of voice imaginable.

[oops-it-happened-again]

Chapter 3

Osferth muses about his strange assignment. Izzy has a minor accident.

-> Chapter 2

Words: 1240

Warnings: Injury, insecurity, doubts

Osferth couldn’t stop musing about how small the woman he’d been entrusted with was—the hand twitching nervously against his was so tiny he might have crushed it by simply closing his fist.

He’d neither doubted nor questioned Uhtred when he’d insisted that they’d dispense with rest after their long, hasty voyage and find Ethel as soon as possible.

The perfectly polite maid in her townhouse had informed them dutifully that she’d gone out with friends, and they’d rushed to the busiest part of the flourishing city at once, driven by the terrible dread that hounded them all their days.

What if, this time, they’d be too late?

So much had been left unsaid and undone, and the mere thought of never getting another chance at setting things right had driven them from place to place and from danger to danger lately.

Surely, the women could not have known how many establishments they’d visited in their pursuit—given their frosty welcome—but, at long last, their quest had been successful.

Well-trained and sufficiently experienced by now, Osferth had expected many things but not the small, curvy woman he now dragged through the throng of half-drunken revellers.

He’d seen her at once upon setting foot into that last, artfully decrepit bar.

How could he not have? On account of the looming danger, his senses had been on high alert, and he’d been fiercely aware of another’s eyes on him from the moment they’d entered the unsavoury club, habitually frequented by the local students.

“Damn, do they have to look this beautiful? They’re not even trying to be inconspicuous,” Finan had cursed as they’d shoved their way through the dancers. “They’re begging for trouble!”

Osferth had heard the edge of jealousy in his friend’s voice, but he’d been merciful enough not to mock him for it. Women were his friends’ undoing in general, and he knew not whether he approved of their decision to go back to those they’d lost a long time ago.

Then, this little stranger had said something to the ladies, and a painful scene of broken hearts and shattered trust had unfolded like an inescapable trainwreck.

Even now, Osferth wondered what Izzy could have uttered that would have made her two companions aware of their presence so quickly.

There was no doubt in his mind and heart that she must have commented on one of them, and Edith’s later comment echoed in his mind even as he pulled her onward indefatigably.

What if she’d said something about him? No, he chided himself. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have. But what if?

“Are you all right?” he asked, venturing a look over his shoulder only to meet the same burning gaze. From this close, it almost looked like admiration.

“I’m fine—my flat is just down this street and…”

He grimaced; they’d left the well-lit, well-travelled part of the city, and he felt uncomfortable at the thought of having a young woman walk in the dark on her own.

Instinctively, he pulled her closer, wishing he’d had time to freshen up and change between their arrival and the frantic search for Ethel.

“I’m a librarian,” she said, her voice echoing through the empty alley. “I don’t think anyone would be eager to do me any harm.”

“Ethel is an important woman,” he replied softly without taking his eyes off the wavering shadows ahead. “And she deems you a friend—she’d fight for you. Both her friends and her enemies are fiercely aware of that.”

“So I’m to be walked home by a priest?” Izzy sounded doubtful.

“I’m not a priest. It was not entirely my choice to be given to the monastery, but worry not, if someone was to try snatching you, I’d send them off quickly enough.”

“Oh, I believe you,” she chuckled. “The Lord has blessed me indeed.”

Shaking his head, Osferth wondered whether it would be a good idea to be confined with this woman—she struck him as reckless and impish, and he was afraid that she’d test his patience before long.

They’d almost reached a long row of narrow buildings when a sudden noise echoed like a shot through the street.

Osferth felt the sharp tug on his hand—then, Izzy groaned.

“It’s nothing,” she whimpered. “I’ve just been startled. Don’t think me too foolish, please!”

Scanning their surroundings, Osferth made sure that it had indeed been but a car backfiring before he let his gaze fall upon the limping shape beside him.

“You’re injured,” he said in an almost accusing tone.

“Barely—I might have twisted my ankle. Nothing more. We’re almost there, come on!” Hissing in discomfort, she hobbled on.

Unable to shake the odd sensation that they’d just had a narrow escape, Osferth offered his arm to support her and gasped when Izzy stepped into the insinuated embrace boldly.

“If—all right…” he muttered and promptly slung his arm around her body to lift her cautiously and hurry to the house she was pointing at.

“You smell nice,” she whispered when he let her down once more so she could unlock the front door. “My flat’s on the second floor. Please, do come up.”

Even though he knew that he shouldn’t give in to the strange allure of her shockingly affectionate nature, Osferth carried her up the steep steps and only reluctantly let go of her when she’d sunken into the worn cushions of an old settee with a long sigh.

Bent over her, he found himself mesmerised by her frank expression and knowing smile.

“Not how I expected this night to go,” Izzy grinned, “but I’ll take it. Do you need anything? A shower? Did you have dinner?”

“I’m not your guest—I…” Osferth stammered. The thought of a hot shower and a warm meal sounded wonderful, but he was oddly reluctant to let this strange woman out of sight. “I need to guard you!”

“Lock the door, bar the windows. We’re rather high up, I doubt someone will creep through my kitchen window. The bathroom is just through there!”

Patting his cheek, she struggled back to her feet. “Don’t say I’m too hurt to cook pasta! I’m fine! Go ahead; it seems as if this will be a long night.”

Then, she simply vanished through a door.

With a long, mindful exhalation, Osferth fished his old, battered phone out of his pocket to report to Uhtred that they’d made it to safety and then opened the door she’d designated.

At once, her scent—vanilla and spice—flooded his senses as he stepped around an impractically broad bed to get to the tiny bathroom.

Her flat was littered with empty boxes and stacks of books, and he wondered how long she’d lived here in perfect peace before they’d descended upon her like biblical locusts.

For a moment, he considered whether it would be rude to lock the door, but then again, he couldn’t imagine that Izzy would come to check.

In a fit of recklessness, he didn’t turn the little knob, half-hoping and half-dreading that his involuntary host would indeed come and dispel all his swirling doubts and inane fantasies of being wanted.

The question of what she’d said in the club came back to him, unbidden and all-compelling, as he stood under the mercifully hot spray—had he been braver in these things, he would have loved to ask her.

Maybe, he thought as he got out, he would.

Thank you for reading!

If this is something that could interest you, please let me know!

Read this on Ao3

-> Chapter 4

[shibaraki]

“thirty year olds writing fanfic is weird…” I hate to be the one to break this to you friend. but your favourite manga was literally written by a forty year old man