#house of anubis fanfic

[non-cannon]

Thinking about what if Fabian missed Nina when he tried to save her from the pit that would have pendulums. And also about the fact that we never get any indication about how deep the chasm actually is. So I wrote the following.

...

Fabian raced down the tunnels with Amber close behind him. They had to reach Nina before she fell down the chasm. They could not let the end of the dream become a reality. Neither could bear the thought of Nina falling down an unimaginable depth.

They hopscotched like they never hopscotched before and made it the room with the chasm in record time. They saw Nina before them at the edge. She started to turn towards the sound of their entrance.

Fabian darted forward. With a sudden jolt Nina fell back into the pit as if she'd been pushed. Fabian launched himself forward. He tried to grab her, but only grabbed air.

-

We now go to commercial/end of episode. Even though an end of episode cliffhanger would be more dramatic, the commercial break will be funnier (for me at least).

-

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

-

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!"

-

"Tune in to the Kids Choice Slime Awards!"

-

"Watch iCarly"

-

"We now return to House of Anubis."

-

Fabian tried to grab Nina as she fell into the chasm, but he caught only air. Almost immediately after he misses, a thud is heard, followed by Nina going "Ow".

Fabian and Amber lean over the edge of the pit and see Nina picking herself off of the floor of the pit, which is about two feet deep, and evidently painted black with Vantablack to look deeper than it really is. As they helped Nina pull herself out of the pit another one of Robert's recordings started to play, but instead of another cryptic riddle, it's just him laughing.

[osirian-rises]

Jerome Centric House of Anubis Part One

Jerome was thirty pounds richer by science class, three more underclassman about to learn why they shouldn't have made deals with a Clarke. Alfie was busying himself with a vial of fake blood and a wadded up tissue while their teacher Mrs. Andrews droned on about their upcoming practice exam. His phone buzzed in his bag and he kicked it as if that would silence it. The only one who could be texting him right now was Poppy. Her last year at her current school had her all out of sorts, and they were only two weeks into their terms. She’d be going to Amun next year, unfortunately for him.

“Mrs. A?” Alfie raised his hand, placing the tissue up to his nose. Jerome pointed at it to draw her attention down. “Got a nosebleed. It's a gusher!”

“Infirmary quickly!” Mrs. Andrews beckoned, Alfie standing and racing for the door. The Principal Mr. Sweet cut him off with a warning, Alfie disappearing into the hallway before Mrs. Andrews or Mr. Sweet could notice his nose wasn’t actually bleeding.

“Joy, there’s someone in my office to see you.” Mr. Sweet said, holding open the door as she reluctantly got her stuff. Jerome watched her leave, eyes sharp. There was never anyone to see him in Mr. Sweets’ office.

Maybe he could pay someone to pretend to be a grieving Uncle or something, to get him out of an exam. He snickered at the idea. Alfie would go nuts for that.

Joy never came back from the office.

Patricia had asked around about her, but according to her ranting in the living room, Joy’s parents had removed her from the school. Alfie had immediately come up with some dumb conspiracy he was trying to sell Jerome on, that she’d actually been abducted by aliens or contracted a dark curse.

“So they’ve already got someone else in her bed?” Fabian spoke up, for a singular second looking up from his book. The new girl Patricia had been ranting about too. That was odd. What were the chances an open spot at the school would be filled on the same day? Especially by an American student as Patricia had described.

Alfie started going off about aliens again, Jerome playing alone to appease him.

“We were planning a Rom-Com box set marathon tonight.” Patricia insisted. “You know Joy’s obsession with Rom-Coms. How can she have gone just like that?”

“Patricia, you’ve disappeared more than enough times.” Jerome reminded cooly.

“She would have called me though!” Patricia repeated.

“Yeah, I know she would have.” Jerome agreed. Sometimes talking to Patricia felt like arguing with a brick wall, even if he wasn’t arguing. “But she hasn’t got her phone on and-”

All the overlapping conversation screeched to a halt as said new girl entered the living room. She had wavy light brown hair, and blue eyes. Nothing about her seemed malicious, or alien. Just poor timing then. Jerome rolled his eyes. Unfortunate for her. Not for anyone ready to watch another one of Patricia’s meltdowns.

“Hi! I’m Nina, I’m from America.” She said with an excited wave. Jerome’s eyes flickered over to Fabian who waved back with a quietly repeated hello. He stared at him, studying him suspiciously. Fabian had that stupid look on his face Alfie had when looking at Amber.

“Welcome space girl!” Alfie jumped up from the couch, continuing his bit from earlier while Nina stared in confusion. Jerome snickered as Trudy called for dinner. Patricia continued to interrogate Nina at the table, Amber disappearing to do who knows what. Likely looking for Mick. 

Alfie ate his pasta like a toddler, using two forks to shovel it into his mouth.

“Stop it Alfie, that’s disgusting!” Mara demanded, Jerome laughing at him. “And you’re probably going to choke on it.”

“But it’s delicious this way!” Alfie defended.

“Alfie, don’t play with your food.” Jerome scolded teasingly. He used his fork to launch some pasta at Alfie, who immediately retaliated. The two continued throwing food, Alfie getting thoroughly covered in sauce and noodles while all of his attempted throws at Jerome splattered on Nina, Patricia, and Fabian. Some even landed on Amber as she was walking back into the dining room, quick to back away in disgust.

Patricia grabbed the pitcher of water and poured it all into Nina’s lap. “Oops, sorry!” She said mockingly. Jerome laughed more as he was hit with a handful of salad. He’d predicted that would happen for sure, but on the first night was incredible.

Fabian immediately got up to play the hero, helping wipe the mess off Nina with napkins. Victor entered the dining room and shut down the continuing argument, Nina following him out as Jerome threw a singular noodle at Alfie.

After dinner Jerome and Alfie went back to their room, Alfie doing his best to bother Jerome while he finished up his homework. Jerome’s phone buzzed and he grabbed it. Another text from Poppy glowed on the screen.

“Alfie.” He said as he looked over at his roommate. “Can I have some privacy for a minute?”

“Why?” Alfie asked.

“Need to call…someone.” Jerome settled on. “Come on, surely you’ve thought up some scheme to drive someone crazy. What happened to replacing all Mara’s pens with exploding ones?”

“Haven’t shipped yet.” Alfie pursed his lips, then brightened. “Actually, I do have an idea! Thanks Jerome!” He raced out of the room, Jerome reluctantly dialing his sister.

“What is such a big emergency?” Jerome said tiredly. “If this is about mom-I told you to give it up with her-”

“No.” Poppy cut her brother off. “It’s not mom, it’s Janelle Garner.”

Jerome rolled his eyes. “Didn’t want to play dolls with you? Suck it up Pops, stop texting me when I’m in school.”

“She said-Oh forget it, I don’t know why I bother with you, Gerbil.” Poppy complained. “You’re useless, you know that?”

“Said what?” There was a pause. “Said what, Poppy?” Jerome demanded. “Spit it out.” 

“She said that dad left because I was an accident, and he wanted nothing to do with me.” Poppy admitted. “It’s not true, is it?”

“What are you talking about?” Jerome exclaimed, voice sharp. “Of course it’s not true.”

“Then why did he leave then?” Poppy asked. “Everyone in my school has both their parents and if they don’t, they know why one left. Parents don’t just disappear.”

“Yeah well, ours did.” Jerome said offhandedly. “Just drop it Pops, seriously. Neither of them are worth your time, and neither is Janelle…Do you remember how I told you how to use the printer in the library?”

“...Yeah?” Poppy said slowly. “Why?”

Jerome looked over at the door. He could hear Victor calling for lights out. “I have to go. Here’s what you do…”

Words: 1,131

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

Two for the Show - Chapter 4

Summary:

Eddie and Patricia watch Titanic.

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48628009/chapters/149663506

[house-of-secrets]

In Sickness and In Health

Summary: Nina catches a terrible flu and needs her girlfriend to take care of her.

My newest fic is now up! Check out my addition to the HOA One Shot Day. Let me know what y’all think - XO Evie 💋

Read it here on AO3: Link  

[smallmothwindchimes]

The Chosen "Twins" AU.

Okay so I posted this a few months back, but the fandom on here slept on it so I'm reposting it. There's a whole narrative behind this that I wanna write down, but I might write a fanfic of it, so basically if you wanna follow that I'm in the process of planning it.

To paraphrase the concept of the name of the AU, what if Nina and Joy grew up together (not actually twins but Nina was adopted and just happened to have the same birth date). There's some more nuance to it, but I'm saving it for the actual fic.

[fakeosirian]

Almost a Stranger -- HoA Fabian/Patricia One-Shot

Post-S3, hurt/comfort, angst, lots of mess.

Fabian and Patricia have always been friends, despite how surprising people (themselves included) found it. Most days, they bicker, or they make plans to avert whatever crisis they're in this week, but the crises finally dried up, and bickering doesn't feel quite the same when the sentiments are ringing true more of then than not, these days.

At least they can be miserable together.

read on ao3 or here below the cut

Is it alright to be myself again? Can I finally be myself again? I don't need a reason to find I'm beginning to feel myself again I'm leaving the memory behind So I can finally be myself again Auf Wiedersehen, I'll see you later, some better day Cards on the table Vanity off to the side Always been able To get myself back to a stride Time's an eraser A reverie speaks for itself Sign your own waiver And you'll never be somebody else You'll never be somebody else Almost a stranger And even to those that I know I'm the remainder Of memories thrown to the cold Life is too painful When honesty comes at a price And lies are non-fatal Unless they're the four-letter kind Unless they're the four-letter kind

Fabian had been stuck in limbo for three straight weeks.

Ammut’s destruction did not cancel exams. That’d be an admission of guilt on Mr. Sweet’s part, and regardless, despite things feeling Decidedly Over around Anubis House, that didn’t apply to the school year. As he stared at his ceiling, there was still a month and change left, and while he wanted the Valedictorian spot, he didn’t want it badly enough to study early through the funk.

Well. Another year, he might have. In truth, his lack of early bird vigor had little to do with the exams themselves and everything to do with the black hole in his memory he’d do anything to scrub out entirely. Just knowing it was there at all was more than enough – he was guilty to admit he’d eliminate even the negative space it cast behind it without a second thought, if given the chance.

Eddie growled at his laptop across the room. He must have nearly died again. (In the video game, Fabian reminded himself, when just thinking that made him reflexively nauseous.)

Unable to stand the mounting pressure any longer, Fabian shot up from his bed and strode across the room to the door. Eddie pulled one half of his headphones off his head and peered over the lid of his laptop.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just getting a glass of water.”

“Cool.” He went back to his game without missing a beat; Fabian let go of the breath that lodged itself deep in his torso.

The hall was dimly lit – it was past 10, but Victor had gotten…noticeably lax about curfew recently – and dead quiet. Fabian’s steps lightened out of habit, and he stopped short when he saw a light flickering past the cracked kitchen door.

He slid up to the door and peeked through; Patricia leaned against the island counter, one hand gripping it tightly enough to blanch her knuckles, and the other blanching its knuckles on the handle of a mug. She stared into a lit candle on the counter like it held the answers to all of life’s biggest questions, and if she looked away for even a moment, they’d evaporate completely.

He wasn’t meant to see this, that much was clear.

He’d frozen on the spot, not paying attention to the way his weight shifted onto the door; unlatched, the door put up no resistance against his body leaning forward, and while Fabian was still mid-panic deciding how to proceed, the door’s hinges whined once it hit that one spot in their rotation. Patricia startled, blowing out the candle. Fabian gritted his teeth and held back a curse.

“Who’s there?”

“Me. Sorry.” Fabian ducked out from behind the door, sheepish eyes jumping all around the room, anywhere but on hers. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine,” Patricia said, a bit too quickly. She glanced at the smoke spiraling upward from the smoldering candle and back at him. “Someone left that lit. Fire hazard.”

“Right.” He fought down the urge to call her out. Why lie about that? It’s just a candle. It’s…definitely just a candle. Nothing weird about candles. So, no reason to lie, but she did anyway. I probably look suspicious. She’s acting suspicious. I’m acting suspicious. Suspicious of what? Ugh. It’s Patricia – of course she’s being weird about a candle when it’s just a candle. How long has it been since someone’s said something? Oh God. She can see it in my face, can’t she?

“Going to share with the class?” Patricia’s grip on her mug jerked a bit. Her shoulders were tense; Fabian’s were too. He heaved a sigh – felt a lot more like shoveling dirt than breathing should – and walked past her to get a glass.

“Nothing.” She stared at him, wordless. “Nothing worth the breath to explain, at least. I just came to get some water. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Sorry.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” she insisted. Fabian pressed his lips together and nodded; it came out jerky, insincere despite his best efforts and intentions, and her face pinched up in disgust. “If you’ve got something to say, then just say it.”

“I really don’t.” She scoffed. Fabian closed the cabinet door, but his hand hovered over the faucet handle for a moment. He tried, but he couldn’t let it go. “Seriously, are you okay? You seem upset. Is something bothering you?”

“If you even have to ask,” she grumbled. “It’s nothing to get all worried about. Would be better if you didn’t, actually.”

“Patricia.”

“Fabian.”

He put the glass down next to the sink and stood directly in front of her.

“I’ll leave it alone if you ask me to, but –”

“Already did, so case closed.”

“But, there’s no reason to suffer through it by yourself on purpose.”

Patricia looked at the floor, kicking the tip of her slipper over it, back and forth, back and forth. Fabian opened his mouth, compelled to fill the silence but with no particular thoughts in mind; it hung open for a moment, and closed when he came up empty. He turned around and turned on the tap.

“I was trying to calm down. Not from anything in particular. Just relax, whatever that means,” Patricia said underneath the rushing water. Fabian turned it down slightly – but not off. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, too quick for eye contact, and put his glass under the stream. “I heard somewhere staring at a candle works. Total crap, in my opinion. Now I’m tense and I have a blind spot smack in the middle of my vision.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

“Me neither.” Fabian huffed a laugh. “Doesn’t help that Eddie’s teaching some twelve-year-olds some colorful, new vocabulary over Call of Duty right now.”

“What, cause he’s losing?”

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

Patricia grinned behind her mug. Fabian decided not to question why, upon closer inspection, Patricia decided to drink black tea if she was ‘having trouble sleeping, or something.’ The longer he lingered, the clearer it became to him that their ‘somethings’ were the same.

That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. …And yet he was still in the kitchen, talking. A strike of fear flashed across his mind – acting against his feelings, or were they his feelings, or was there something else driving the car? – and he forced down a gulp of water.

Unsurprisingly, he choked, and Patricia slopped tea on the counter in her haste to get her mug out of her hands. He waved her off, red-faced and suppressing the last of the sputtering, and forced his ragged throat in line.

“Wrong pipe.”

“Right.”

She positively dripped skepticism; rich coming from her, Ms. I Can’t Be Seen With A Candle.

He sniffed – water had gotten all the way up his nose, because of course it had – and took less ambitious sips while Patricia made a half-hearted attempt at mopping up her spilled tea with a paper towel. Every second that ticked past, the silence got thicker. Fabian wanted to leave. But, he hadn’t yet, and he wasn’t making any moves to. There was something…unfinished about this.

That original ‘something.’

“I guess you could say I haven’t felt myself lately,” Patricia said, apropos of nothing (or something). Fabian half-choked again – his glass was at his lips and ready to tip – and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s one way of putting it.” He sighed. “You don’t remember anything either, do you?”

“No, nothing.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Not that I really want to, but I keep looking around in here like I might, like it’s possible I’m just missing something, and I can’t not know about it if that’s something that’s possible.”

“I find it hard to try in the first place because the sinking dread of what I’m going to do about it if I did remember something gets in the way.”

“Well, nothing, right? It’s over. Done and dusted.”

“Joy won’t look me in the eye.”

Patricia froze.

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since I’ve…been back…she’s seemed off. Not around anyone else, and nothing like I could remember before.” Fabian grimaced. “People have told me things I’ve said, but no one’s mentioned anything I said to her. I just…don’t know, and it’d be so hard to explain. I wouldn’t believe me if I was her.”

“She hasn’t told me anything about that,” Patricia said, her voice small. “Are you sure you’re not…y’know.”

“No, I’m not imagining it,” Fabian grumbled. “I think Jerome’s noticed too.”

“Ah.” She took a slow sip from her mug. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, people only noticed you acting weird because you’re usually pretty nice. Me? Apparently, just an average couple weeks, as far as everyone else was concerned.”

“It…doesn’t,” Fabian said, wincing. “And you weren’t completely normal, anyway.”

“Oh, great. I was worried I hadn’t made enough of a mess.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Patricia barked a laugh; it sounded painful. Fabian’s face grew hot. “You had no idea what they were doing in the Gatehouse! We didn’t even know what a sinner was yet.”

“Sorry, Officer, I didn’t realize Evil Things were happening in the Evil House. Won’t happen again.”

“Well, I did know, and I went anyway. Could always be worse.”

Patricia glared at him. He didn’t buckle; why would he? She couldn’t say anything worse about him than he’d already said himself. Bomb defused. She broke eye contact, muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

Before he caught up with himself, Fabian poked the bear.

“What?”

“Don’t talk like that around Eddie.” Fabian stared at her, missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Nevermind. Just don’t. Better yet, leave the entire topic alone.” She picked up her mug and pushed past Fabian to exit the kitchen.

“Patricia, wait.” She stopped, but she didn’t turn around. Her knuckles flexed where she gripped the door for dear life. “Do you…not talk about this at all? With anyone?”

“Why would I? Do you?”

“Fair point,” he said. “Um. Maybe we…should.”

She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes shone, glassy, under the low light of the kitchen.

“Why.”

“It’s…hard? When you don’t?”

She pressed her lips together. He ran through all of the other exits in the room that didn’t involve getting past her in his head. Two, by the way. Laundry room, window. Not looking good.

“Maybe.” She turned to the threshold again. “Thanks, Fabian. Sort of.”

“Er, you’re welcome. I guess.”

She disappeared down the hallway. Fabian lingered in the kitchen; he couldn’t leave, not while his heart raced and his blood sang in his ears.

*-*

That was before, but this is now: a summer trip to New York City, Patricia, Fabian, and Alfie on a plane, with instructions to meet Eddie and KT at the airport. (The directions to where they’d meet in the airport looked as clear as the alchemy recipes Victor left lying around in the cellar, so functionally directionless and with the implication of harsh consequences for failure.)

Fabian didn’t like to think too much about how he couldn’t make it out for Nina before. Alfie had offered to pay without hesitation, otherwise it likely wouldn’t have worked out this time, either, and making a comparison between the two situations seemed like an exercise in misery.

Three hours into a trans-Atlantic flight, and exercises in misery sound appealing for being exercises at all. He’s stuck in the middle seat, Alfie sleeping in the aisle seat, and he’d already finished the only book he’d taken out of his carry-on.

Patricia’s awake, though. They hadn’t talked much once the novelty wore off and Alfie passed out, but one glance at the book that wouldn’t un-finish itself and Fabian knew he’d have to break the awkwardness sooner or later.

She’d propped up her chin on her hand, staring out the window like something other than ocean would show up. He taps her on the shoulder, and she grunts her acknowledgement.

“Excited to see Eddie?”

“Huh?” Couple seconds to process. “Oh. Yeah, loads of excitement.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Oh, shove it. I’m exhausted, and I can’t sleep on planes,” she says. “Yes, I am excited to see Eddie. I bet you’re going to be missing Mara, then.”

Fabian’s breath catches.

“Mara?”

“Well, yeah.”

Yikes. He hadn’t told her, had he.

“That didn’t really…”

“Oh.”

“It’s pretty recent. You didn’t miss anything, or. You know.”

“No explanation necessary.” Does she look…relieved? “To tell the truth, it was weird anyway. Sorry if that’s mean.”

“It’s not. It…made sense, but.”

“Too much sense?”

“Too much sense.”

Patricia nods like she’s got a cigar hanging out of her mouth.

“Always thought she picked people who she had nothing in common with, but turns out that was her type all along. I suppose I owe her a ‘you told me so’ for all the times I told her otherwise.” Alfie stirs in the aisle, and Fabian waves his hand in a ‘volume down’ motion. She grimaces, but she’s clearly got more to say. “Was it…mutual?”

“Yeah,” Fabian says. “It…yeah. Two dates, and at the end of the second, we were both looking for the opening. No big deal. Guess I’d just gotten in the habit of starting something new at the end of the year.” The laugh isn’t completely forced. Patricia awkwardly pats him on the arm.

“Not all of us can have the surprise whirlwind romance of Joy and Jerome.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself and Eddie short.”

He hadn’t even wanted to say it, not really, but he thought it’d be the right thing. Evidently, it wasn’t, because Patricia’s eyes widen and dart back to the window. She rattles off a stilted agreement a moment too late.

That isn’t wishful thinking, is it? It shouldn’t be. Worse than making ‘too much’ sense, it made none at all.

Despite no wishes being made, the monkey’s paw curls anyway. The first day of the trip goes great (navigating the airport aside); the second day, Patricia and Eddie spend the latter half of the afternoon arguing behind a bedroom door while Alfie, KT, and Fabian do their best to drown it out with the TV. It’s not working.

Alfie just cranks the volume up a couple notches when they start shouting again, and KT turns it down when they get quiet. Fabian would get involved in the tug-of-war over the remote if he wasn’t so invested in spending every single ounce of willpower he had to not make sense of the snippets he caught anyway. Morbid curiosity is already a real enough concept to him, but he hadn’t yet considered that it also applied to situations without someone trying to kill you directly. You can absolutely die of anticipation, all on your own, with a heartrate fast enough.

Eventually, whatever show they were hardly paying attention to in the first place didn’t cut it anymore, and KT suggests that the three of them go around the corner for some snacks. Of course, that’s when Patricia and Eddie throw open the door.

“I’m going with you,” Eddie says, no room for argument as he grabs his wallet and keys out of the bowl next to the front door. He strode past so quickly Fabian couldn’t even see his face; his voice was bent out of shape, hoarse and evaporated. KT, Alfie, and Fabian share a look; Fabian takes a step back towards Patricia, and the other three leave without a moment’s hesitation. The door slam echoes throughout the Miller’s apartment, and in the void of sound it leaves behind, Fabian wonders if he’s made an enormous mistake.

(Why this would be a mistake, he didn’t know, but it nags.)

Fabian whips around to face Patricia. Her cheeks are splotchy and red, her breathing shaky, and Fabian remembers how deeply unequipped he is for this. Something must have shown on his face; her breath catches, her eyes get glassy, and it’s all over.

“Come here,” Fabian says, or something tells him to say, because he’s acting entirely on instinct when he erases the distance between them and takes her up in a hug. She’s stiff as a board in his arms, but she isn’t throwing him off (like he knows she is completely capable of and willing to do), so he’s at least avoiding the big mistakes.

He guides her to the couch; she hiccups into the side of his shoulder, and he can feel the twin wet patches there stick to his skin. They’re forced to break up for a moment when they sit down.

“I’m sorry,” Fabian starts to say, but he only gets halfway through the second word before she fully breaks down into sobs. That’s when it clicks for him – he knows these sobs.

“I only –”

“I know. When you’re angry.”

“Very angry,” she corrects between heaves.

It had been years since the last time, so long he’d nearly forgotten, but he still knew what to do. He puts an arm around her shoulders and buttons up his mouth; she lets it all out. There’s words in there between the tears and gasps, nothing that’d make it easier to understand, and nothing he dares to press.

Who knows how much later, Patricia’s mostly stopped crying, still muttering under her breath here and there and wiping tears off her cheek with Fabian’s upper arm, and Fabian’s phone buzzes. It’s a text from Alfie asking if they’re clear to come back.

“What’s up?”

Fabian fumbles to respond to the text – not yet, need a bit more time – and attempts a lie by omission to the question – just Alfie – but she sees right through it. He puts his phone back in his pocket (where she’ll have to wrestle him for it if she really wants to – he doesn’t examine that thought too much).

“They’re going to be taking a bit longer with the snacks.”

“What, because I’m crying?” He sighs – he’s supposed to be avoiding getting into it with her while she’s still upset – but before she can get either angry or angry with herself for being angry, he shifts the topic:

“What do you need right now?” Her mouth drops open in surprise, and not a moment later, less in surprise and more out of offense. “Do you want them to come back?” Her jaw shuts with a click. “Talk about it, then? Or do something else entirely? We could go on a walk for ourselves.” The straws he’s grasping at break apart in his hands, but it’s enough to get her laughing.

“Wandering around NYC without a guide would be insane – that doesn’t sound like a Fabian plan at all! Who are you and what have you done with him?”

Oh, that’s what was so funny. Haha. Oh.

She looks horrified once it sinks in for her, too, but he just…laughs. Very hard, to the point he can’t stop laughing, actually; it’s nervous and jarring, but it’s infectious, and she tentatively starts laughing, too, enough to finally interrupt her crying, until his chest catches on a laugh-turned-hiccup. He’s crying, he realizes. He wasn’t laughing at all. He’s just crying.

Now it’s her turn to fumble her way through an apology (and he knows why she’s compelled to since she’s not subtle – she can needle him and call him a geek but only because he doesn’t…break when she does).

“No, it’s okay – I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be comforting you,” he says, voice thick with tears, which she just shakes her head at, no words. He gets ahold of himself as quickly as he lost it. “Seriously, no apology necessary. I know you get it.” She still doesn’t have the words, but she nods.

They sit like that for a while; Fabian’s not sure how long, the best marker of time available the erratic rhythm of their heartbeats interrupting each other over and over. His picks up whenever he thinks about it too hard. Maybe he was wishing it into existence, but sometimes, he could have sworn hers would do the same.

Without preamble, she explains:

“We’ve been having issues because Eddie’s mad I can’t forgive myself for what happened. Whatever that’s supposed to mean in this context – I think he’s being daft. There’s way more to it than that, if that were even it. I mean, if it were that simple, wouldn’t I have just done it already?” Fabian understands both sides of this argument a little too well to stick his neck out, so he presses his lips together tightly and waits for her to continue. “It’s pretty easy for him to feel that way in his position. His biggest sin was trusting the wrong people.”

“Nina always felt guilty when things went wrong,” Fabian chips in.

“Exactly. Something about being in charge makes people all weird. It’s so selfish. Has anyone ever properly been in charge of anyone else around here? We’re all just doing stuff and half-talking about it and hoping it works out. It’s so hard to look yourself in the face and recognize what went wrong is entirely your own fault, but it’s the only way you get better, right? It’s insulting for someone to step in and blame themselves and take that away from you.”

Fabian is taken aback because it feels wrong, just as selfish in a way, but something buried deep inside him agrees strongly enough to scare him a little. He’s never had that feeling validated before. He thinks it probably shouldn’t be, reflexively, but that in and of itself exposes the deep river of self-doubt running below all of that. Alfie got sinnered too, they’ve talked about it, but he’s been able to cope by still trusting his core intentions to be good. Patricia is the only other person who understands. He can trust her more than anyone else, in a twisted sort of way, and if she trusts him…

Does she? They make very significant eye contact. Of course she trusts him. This is Patricia – she doesn’t cry in front of anyone if she can help it. Except him, apparently. It’s not like he’s keeping her here by force. (He couldn’t even if he wanted to.)

Suddenly, he’s very, very, very aware of the fact that they’re alone for as long as they want to be (within reason) and there’s a dangerous current arcing between them. Judging by the look on her face, she’s well aware of it, and just as flummoxed as him.

But…just as interested. They’ve been physically close ever since she broke down crying, but their faces were not this close five minutes ago. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

“Eddie!” he squeaks. She whips around to look at the door – he clarifies:

“No, they’re not here, they’re still gone, I just. Well. We’re…”

“We’re what, doofus?” Now he’s irritated.

“We’re about to kiss?” She opens and closes her mouth a couple times (and stares at his) but she can’t dispute it. He continues: “You’re still dating Eddie.”

Patricia deflates into him – cue the flush simmering away on his face roaring into a towering inferno – and mumbles into his chest.

“Am I?”

(He’s positively mortified how quickly that got him excited. Forget mortified – disgusted.)

“…Isn’t this exactly what got Jerome in trouble?”

“Are you seriously comparing me to Jerome Clarke right now? While cuddling me?”

He’s too flustered for words; she sits up, but she’s still holding on to him, now eye level. He can see the justifications flying around between her ears, so clearly that he pinpoints the moment she picks one and sticks to it.

“It’s not like it’d be the worst bad decision we’ve ever made.”

“That’s a pretty low bar to clear.”

“Exactly. Why beat yourself up for this when you’re too busy tackling the big fish?”

“…I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Why can’t it be?”

Fabian sighs.

“Patricia.”

“Fabian.”

She’s not going to let up; she forced his hand.

“Patricia, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really, genuinely want—” Chokes a bit. “To kiss you. Right now. I needed to say it out loud to make sure you know I mean it, but mostly because I’m having a hard time believing this is real.”

“Same here.” Her wobbly little smile looks like victory; unfortunately, victory over which battle hits him like a brick to the chest, and it’s much harder to want to reach out and take it after that. “What? Is everything okay?”

Fabian shakes his head. He waits for her to fight him, agree, do anything, really, but the ball’s still stuck to his side of the court. He struggles to find a way to say it that doesn’t feel so…accusatory.

“Do we really want to taint…this…with that? You're still...”

She sighs, looks at his lips again, and looks away with a shake of her head.

“I hate that you’re a good person.”

“Hey, I could say the same about you. That was the last of my resistance I was using there – if you’d fought me at all, well.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Sorry! Sorry. Ugh.” They stop talking, but they don’t stop holding each other. The gears in Fabian’s head turn in time with his stomach. “Don’t break up with Eddie for it.”

Patricia gets up, puts him at arm’s length, but still holding onto him.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” He blanches – did he overstep? Had he missed something? Or is he really that self-centered? She whacks him in the arm. “And stop overthinking it! Seriously, why are you worried about that?”

Fabian hems and haws a bit. Despite the involuntary rush of adrenaline – cued just in time to match the way his mind went completely blank on the topic despite the clear logic he used to make that statement in the first place being there just a second ago – he’s shocked to find that she’s not angry. She sounds shocked, a bit upset, but not necessarily with him. He takes a couple steadying breaths as she looks on with concern ratcheting upwards.

“You and Eddie are having a hard time right now, and for good reason, but it’s not unfixable whatsoever. You have a strong relationship. I don’t mean to insinuate anything, only that I don’t want you giving up on that prematurely for…whatever this is, or rather could be.”

Patricia frowns, brow furrowed to the nose and storm clouds rolling in.

“Don’t worry about what me and Eddie are doing. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Even though he feels like he’s the one in the wrong here, he can’t help but get his hackles up involuntarily at that obvious falsehood. She groans and waves her hand. “Oh, you know what I mean. It’s a mess, but it’s my mess. Our mess, me and Eddie’s, I mean. If it ends, it ends because of us, and there’s plenty of us to go around already.”

“Okay,” Fabian says, desperately grasping for that trust he had in her earlier. He finds it more easily than he was expecting, lying right behind her eyes and in the thin, crooked, half-broken smile she puts together from scratch for him.

“But.” He tenses up. “The two of us have been through a lot together. I’ve known you for basically forever.”

“Not all of forever has been pleasant,” he can’t help but offer. She snorts.

“That’s sort of what I mean. Don’t discount what this could be because of what it might have been before.”

That…huh. It struck a chord with him, but…

“Does…does that mean anything at all?”

“Oh, shut up. Don’t make this bit of forever unpleasant, too.” They both laugh, and things feel as close to comfortably normal as they could, what with the pervasive feeling that This Isn’t Happening For Real still hanging over the room present. Or her hand on his shoulder, still. Mostly the hand.

“This bit?” He can’t help himself – it’s so easy to give in to the urge to be cheeky around her.

“Yeah, this…whatever we’re doing. How we’re being better friends because we hate ourselves but we could be also…” she trails off, nose crinkling as she tries on an entire store’s worth of ill-fitting phrasings. “What did I say about not making this unpleasant?”

This time, when he cries from laughing too hard, there’s no pain in it whatsoever.

Eddie, Alfie, and KT return shortly after. Eddie still seems bothered, but less than he did when he left, and Patricia’s able to keep her cool just fine when he walks in the door. The only slip that gives her away is the quick glance back at Fabian when Eddie finally vacates the threshold of the door and puts their convenience store haul down on the coffee table. It was so quick that only Fabian would notice, but the gnawing anxiety in his gut wouldn’t stop reminding him that his own over-focus on Patricia would be the far more obvious thing for an outsider to notice there. That’s the only reason he saw her glance in the first place.

It's easy enough for them to pretend that everything is some semblance of normal for the rest of the trip. When they’re in a group, whatever activity they’re up to and the five-person banter are far too distracting for minds and eyes to wander. In a group, Fabian can’t tell if that subtle bit of distance between Patricia and Eddie is all in his head or not, and the less people there are, the distance between everyone invariably gets larger. Consideration for personal space, maybe. Maybe.

The trouble comes when the group whittles down to just Fabian and Patricia again, so they do their best to limit how often that happens. Fabian ranks it among the hardest things he’s ever done where the consequences don’t involve someone dying.

By the time they’re on the plane home, he’s so exhausted from tamping his feelings down that he doesn’t have the energy to feel them in the first place. He sleeps most of the time, unlike last time, and is only awake at the same time as Patricia (the one who claims to not be able to sleep on planes) once. They spend most of it in silence, Alfie’s snoring matching their stuttering heartbeats, and dare not refer to That Night.

Fabian would hold Patricia to her word – to not hurt Eddie on his behalf – no matter how much it hurt the two of them in turn. For now, he’s left with a lightness in his heart, and an ugly churning in his stomach.

[ironicsopsychotic]

the hard part

if sneaking around behind the whole house’s backs was hard, it’s nothing compared to navigating where that leaves them now. under normal circumstances, kissing someone, cuddling with someone, having sex with someone, thinking about that person all the fucking time would constitute a romantic relationship. but normal circumstances have never applied to the chosen one and her osirian.

hoa | nina/eddie | rated t | 17.8k | 03. in "the more you think of me the more i'll manifest" series | pov alternating

link in the reblog!¡ 

[mask-of-anubis]

it’s nice to have a friend ch. 4

Chapter 4: “friends who kiss”

Summary: Sometimes friends who used to hate each other sneak around, sometimes they kiss each other, sometimes they even harbor super casual not-at-all-deep feelings for each other and keep them a secret from everyone they know.... you know, just friends being friends.

Link to AO3

[theosirianischosen]

Given the recent events in Doctor Who, I was doing research last night on the Osirian race to see if there could be connections between Doctor Who’s Osirians and House of Anubis’s concept of the Osirian. I also Googled to see if anyone else had discovered this connection and wrote about it or based an existing fanfic on it. Instead, I got a response from Google AI, and, uhh…

So… happy pride month to Eddie and Alfie, I guess!?!?

[winniewells]

Here’s something I learned today that you may need to hear too; don’t belittle what you love because it’s not well known.

Tonight, I was with my boyfriend and his roommates and his roommate asked me what I would be doing if I wasn’t with my boyfriend. I told him I’d be writing fanfiction and then he asked me what for.

So I started off by saying “House of Anubis-it’s this dumb kids show-“

And then he stopped me and said, “No, don’t belittle it.”

It was probably the first time I ever felt like I could actually talk about how wonderful the show is and how much I love it without being looked at as strange.

So don’t belittle what you love

[lovelyamneris]

“Kira’s head hurt too much to think of something brave to say or do, and it hit her like a bolt of lighting that she was going to die in the musty tower room of the Gatehouse on a random school night.” -Two Is Company by @incorrectsibunaquotes

[non-cannon]

Not me quietly giving all of the good ideas to Alfie and Amber in my fic. Like I know Sibuna only has one brain cell, and it's usually Fabian's, but it just feels in character for one of them to be the one who points out the obvious.

Though I do fear that this may be coming at the cost of making Fabian look stupid. To be fair, he doesn't always have the brain cell and some times is quite stupid.

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

The Endling - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nina lays out her situation for Fabian, pleading for assistance. Fabian is left grappling with a choice to dabble in powers he has only ever seen from the sidelines.

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55633855/chapters/145263088

[the-fiction-witch]

Commission Page

Commissions are open

Any Character is Available on request but as a basic level list -

11th doctor Doctor Who (BBC) Adam Douglas Lewis (ITV) Aeron Bracken House of The Dragon (HBO) Ageon Targaryen House Of The Dragon (HBO) Benny Watts The Queens Gambit (Netflix) Bran Stark Game Of Thrones (HBO) Casey Some Dogs Bite (2010) Daemon Targaryen House Of The Dragon (HBO) Davos Blackwood House of The Dragon (HBO) Donald Death Of A Superhero (2011) Gwayne Hightower House of The Dragon (HBO) Jacaerys Verlaryon House Of The Dragon (HBO) Jack Dawkins The Artful Dodger (Hulu/Disney) Jacob Portman Miss Perigrins Home For Perculiar Children (2016) Jake Murry Accused (BBC) Jerome Clark House Of Anubis (Nicklodeon) Jojen Reed Game Of Thrones (HBO) Lampwick Pinnochio (2009) Lancel Lannister Game Of Thrones (HBO) Lucerys Verlaryon House Of The Dragon (HBO) Lucien Crown Morbius (Sony) Luke Skywalker Star Wars (Disney) Malcolm Mclaren Pistol (Disney) Newt The Maze Runner (2014 - 2018) Nigel Orbit Ever After (2013) Officer Thanission Star Wars The Force Awakens (2015) Oscar Tully House Of The Dragon (HBO) Otis Millburn Sex Education (Netflix) Paul Nowhere Boy (2009) Rafe Sadler Wolf Hall (2015) Romulus Augustus The last Legion (2007) Sam Love Actully & Love Actully Red Nose day (2002 &2012) Samuel Brawne Bright Star (2009) Samuel Emerson Phantom Halo (2015) Simon Brown Nanny Mcphee (2005) Timothy Latimer Doctor Who (BBC) Viserys Targaryen Game Of Thrones (HBO) Whitey Winn Godless (Netflix) Willughby Blake Slaughter House Rulez (2018)

[lilrowantree]

officially at the stage of new hyperfixation where i begin to write fanfic and i’m almost scared

rough guideline, ish:

[fakeosirian]

Flat On Your Face: Chapter 10

read here on ao3!

Is that sound the rain on the windows, or the bottles everyone's jamming their feelings into threatening to overflow?

teaser:

“You’re not going to ask for my help, are you?” “What? Why would I?” Patricia sputtered. Joy rolled her eyes again and threw the magazine off to the side. Patricia turned away from the mirror to face her, but Joy grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her back around, making eye contact through the mirror instead. “Watch it!” “Watch yourself,” Joy shot back. She stood behind Patricia, pointing at her reflection’s forehead. “See that?” “No.” “Yes, you do,” Joy grumbled, pushing Patricia closer to the mirror. “Worry lines.” Patricia whipped around. “Since when did you become a walking botox infomercial?” “Since never – have them all you like. I’d be surprised if you didn’t after all you get up to.” Patricia didn’t miss the edge to her voice there, but she wasn’t done. “But you shouldn’t have those right now, if all is well and you’re meeting up with who I think you are. Unless there’s something I’m missing.”