#implied anxceit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creataav · 10 months

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oh look! a sanders sides fic? yes indeed!!

its presently a work in progress, but i'm planning on updating this relatively frequently. i want these chapters to be kind of long (>2,000 words), so it might not be a weekly thing but i'll update as often as i can. ch. 1 will be on tumblr, all chapters after that can be found on ao3!!

Virgil didn’t think he would ever get used to being friendly with Janus again. The other sides - mainly Logan and Patton- had made the decision to integrate him into their group without him, but he would have appreciated a heads-up before he ran into the snake lounging in the living room, watching some kind of crime documentary (Virgil was too distracted to check what it was about) without a care in the world.

“Wh- How- When-” Virgil paused, catching his breath and trying to slow his brain down enough to form a coherent question. Janus glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, turning down the volume on the TV. “No one told me you moved in.”

Janus frowned, although there was a glint of something in his eyes that made Virgil uneasy. “I thought you all were the pinnacle of communication these days. Unless…?” He looked at Virgil with false shock. “They just didn’t think to tell you.”

Virgil suppressed a groan. He didn’t have the patience for Deceit today. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. To his disappointment, Janus was still sitting there when he opened them. “I’m not in the mood for you today.”

“Take it up with Patton, if you’d like. He’ll totally agree with you and kick me out immediately. I might not even get to say goodbye to Logan!” Janus turned the volume back up, but not before throwing Virgil a pout.

“I’d think you’d want to chat with Roman, with how dramatic you’re being,” Virgil muttered, heading to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He heard a gasp from the couch and ignored it. Today was going to be a long day.

—

Even though Virgil knew that Janus was being sarcastic, he found himself at Patton’s door, biting the inside of his cheek and building up the courage to knock. He chickened out, and shot him a text instead.

9:35 AM

virge: can we talk? im by your room.

He waited a couple minutes for Patton’s reply, hearing some thunks sound from behind the door.

Patton-Cake<333333: Ofc!!!! 1 sec, Ill b right ther!!

Virgil smiled, shoulders relaxing a little bit. The door in front of him creaked open, Patton not at all surprised that Virgil was waiting for him in front of it.

“Hey, buddy! What’s up?” Patton stepped back, gesturing into his room for Virgil to enter, closing the door behind them. “Oh- wait, one second-” He turned and started rummaging through a canvas bag that seemed to be bigger on the inside than the outside, since Patton’s arm had fully disappeared inside. He let out a sound of triumph and pulled out a fidget cube, one that he knew Virgil loved. “There we are.” He tossed it to him, and Virgil smiled gratefully, immediately beginning to push the little buttons on its side.

Patton waited for Virgil to speak first.

“Who decided to let Deceit in here?” Virgil saw Patton’s throat bob as he swallowed hard. “Pat-”

“I meant to give you a heads-up,” Patton said, pulling out a pop-it for himself and beginning to fiddle with it. “But I didn’t know how to say it without stressing you out and Jan really didn-”

“Jan?!” Virgil almost dropped his cube. “Patton, I mean this with all due respect, but what the fuck is going on here? I know you’re gonna be like ‘have some empathy Virge! You were like him once, too’ but this is so different! He’s Deceit!” Patton winced at Virgil’s impression of him. He felt a twinge of guilt at having hurt the other sides’ feelings, but he forged ahead. “You seriously can’t be planning on fully integrating him into our space. I truly don’t think he could ever go back to being a friendly presence in the mind palace.”

Patton paused. “Logan thinks it would be a good idea to get Thomas to accept every part of him. To give everyone the same kind of treatment without having some of us banished to dungeons or wherever Remus is now.”

“I know that that’s not why you’re doing this, Pat. If it was, Janus would have told me to talk to Logan. But he knows that you know something that if I knew it it would make me feel bad.” Virgil blinked. “That makes no sense but you get what I’m saying! He wanted me to talk to you. And more often than not he wants to hurt my feelings. So I can only assume that something you’re gonna say to me will hurt my feelings. Well, lay it on me, Pat. Quit beating around the bush.”

Patton blinked. “Is that really what you think of him?”

“Yes!” Virgil set down the cube, pushing his bangs out of his eyes and looking pleadingly up at Patton. “That’s why I feel so on edge with him being here. He hasn’t been nice to me since Thomas was a kid. I can’t imagine he would ever go back to that. He hates me. I make his job harder. He doesn’t want me around, and believe you me, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Are you sure, though?” Patton’s voice was quieter now, and he was pushing the circles on the pop-it faster. “I mean, people can change.”

“But we’re not people, Patton. We’re sides. We don’t really change.”

“You did.”

Virgil grunted, trying to find some kind of argument that he could make. “But I didn’t have a history of sabotagi-'' He faltered. “I just really don’t feel good about him being here, Patton, why don’t you get that?”

“I do,” Patton said, looking up at Virgil, empathy and understanding filling his eyes. “I really do. But I also think that it’s not easy for him. He’s only ever been around you and Remus. He needs to be nurtured and loved and taken care of. Just like you do. Just like all of us do. And it’s OK if you don’t want to spend all of your time with him. I understand. But you have to give him a shot. Or else he can’t get better.” He set down the pop-it and moved to sit next to Virgil, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Remember when you first came to live with us, and how unhappy Roman was about it?”

Virgil nodded, leaning in a little. Patton took the hint and moved his hand, using it to wrap around Virgil instead and give him a hug.

“Do you remember when he stopped being so unhappy?” Virgil thought back, and several different memories filled his mind. Disney, being in his room, Bizaardvark, cartoons... “It’s hard to pick just one, huh, kiddo?” Virgil nodded. “Acceptance like that is gradual. It has to be. I’m not asking you to forgive Janus overnight. I’m asking you to consider it. And then, maybe in a couple days, I’ll ask you to say hello to him once and a while. Just a hello. That’s it. And then a few days after that I’ll ask if you want to join us when we watch a movie together. It’ll take little steps. I’m just asking you to try.” He moved so that he was looking Virgil directly in the eyes. “Can you do that for me, Virge?”

Virgil hummed noncommittally. Patton chuckled before his eyes turned serious again. “Well if you can’t consider it, I’ll tell him to avoid you so that you don’t have to interact with him until you’re ready. How does that sound?”

Virgil burrowed his head further into Patton’s chest in answer, and Patton squeezed him as a reply, sighing contentedly as he leaned back, setting Virgil’s head on his lap and running his hands through his hair. They sat there for a few moments, Virgil curled into him, savoring how warm the other side was. Patton frowned and examined a piece of Virgil’s hair. “Your roots are growing out. Do you want me to help you re-dye it later?”

Virgil pulled a piece of his bangs down in front of his eyes, and studied it. “I can do it on my own. Don’t want anyone else breathing in the bleach fumes.” He blew the strand out of his face and pushed himself up, smoothing the hair that Patton had pushed back. “Thanks for offering, though.”

Patton smiled, getting up to open the door for him. “Of course, kiddo! If you ever want to talk about anything - Janus-related or otherwise - feel free to stop by!”

Virgil gave him a pat on the back and headed out the open door, planning on retreating to his bedroom. When he walked in, however, he saw Roman in the corner, going through his CD collection. He felt a groan build up in the back of his throat, and added a little bit of his Anxiety oomph to it. “Princey!”

Roman jumped, dropping Pretty. Odd. by Panic! At the Disco on the floor. His face and ears flushed red and he scratched the back of his neck. “Virgil! How’s it going… buddy?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and picked up the disc. At least it was still in the case. “What’s the deal, Princey? And if it’s about Janus-” Virgil said when Roman opened his mouth to respond, “I already talked to Pat about it and my energy for heart-to-hearts is depleted. It’ll be five to seven business days before I’m in the mood for another one.”

Roman raised an eyebrow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch Lilo and Stitch with me. I’m not in the mood to talk about the snake.”

There was enough venom in Roman’s voice that Virgil knew it wasn’t his place to pry, so he ignored it. “Uh-uh. My turn to pick the movie.”

Roman frowned, but something in his eyes looked relieved that Virgil was willing to join him in his distraction. “Somehow, I feel like it’s always your turn.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Fine. What are we watching?”

Virgil grinned. “Coraline.”

—

Virgil stood in the kitchen, making popcorn, becoming increasingly annoyed that he could see the dark brown roots of his hair in his reflection in the glass. He’d have to redo it sooner than he was planning if it was getting on his nerves this much. And warn the others before he did, since it would certainly stink up the bathroom. He glanced at the fridge. Logan had put up a magnetic whiteboard a long time ago, and Patton had bought four markers for it, a dark blue, a light blue, a red, and a purple. One for each person that lived in the house. Virgil noticed that a yellow one had joined the collection. “Damn it, Patton.” He muttered to himself, taking the purple one and uncapping it. The only note on it was one of Patton’s weekly motivational quotes. “Folks that mind don’t matter and folks that matter don’t mind!” it said. Virgil snorted. He wondered if Deceit had even noticed the efforts Patton was going to to include him. Hell, he’d even gotten a personalized whiteboard quote! Not even Virgil had gotten that before. They were usually just blanket statements that worked for everyone, like the “You are enough!!! ❤” that appeared after the courtroom debacle, or the “Your only limit is your mind!” that was hastily scrawled during Logan and Roman’s debate about Thomas’ motivation. He raised the marker and wrote underneath it, “doing my hair @10:30 sunday morning,” his handwriting small and cramped but still big enough to be legible. He paused. The room was silent. That was weird.

“Shit, the popcorn!” He muttered, bolting back over to the microwave and taking out the packet. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-” He was burning his fingers, and it hurt, but he was much more focused on the charred smell that was drifting from the bag into the air.

Roman turned back to look at him from the couch. “You alright, Virge?”

Virgil winced. “Yep!” He took a whiff of the bag and bit his lip. “How- um- burnt would you say you tend to like your popcorn?” He could practically hear Roman’s confusion. “You know what, don’t answer that, because this was the last packet. The popcorn’s going to be a little crispy.” There was no point in pretending that anything else could happen. He pulled a metal bowl out of the cupboard and poured the popcorn into it. Virgil happened to like his popcorn a little burnt, so maybe some of it might be salvageable to him, but he was almost certain that Roman wouldn’t. Roman couldn’t even drink coffee without a pound of sugar in it, there was no way he would eat something as bitter as extra-crispy popcorn. Virgil sighed and glanced around the kitchen, eyes darting desperately from distraction to distraction before he honed in on a target. Perfect. He smiled, grabbed it and took the two items into the living room where Roman was waiting.

Roman glanced up from the couch as he pulled up the movie. “Gummy worms? Oh, Virgil, you really shouldn’t have.” There was something lurking beneath his words.

“Of course I should have,” Virgil plopped down on the couch next to him, tossing the bag of gummies into Princey’s lap and adjusting the bowl on his own, “I fucked up the popcorn. You deserve snacks with your movie.”

Roman looked into the bowl and wrinkled his nose. “What did you do to it, Emo? I didn’t know popcorn could get that charred.”

“I got distracted and kinda zoned out?” Virgil took a deep breath. “Someone - I assume Patton, who else - got Janus a marker.”

Roman’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, several gummy worms stuffed into it. Actually, his whole body seemed to have frozen, his face was the only thing that seemed to be shifting whatsoever. Virgil noticed something shift in his eyes; they became shiny and wet. And bloodshot. Very quickly.

A tear trickled out. “They didn’t listen.” Roman said, putting the gummy worms into his mouth. “Of course they didn’t. I always have to be wrong, don’t I?” He laughed, but it was cold and sharp. “How fucking ironic is that? The knight - the prince, even - always being the one in the wrong. I’m fucking sick of it.”

“They didn’t even give me a heads-up.” Virgil’s words were barely louder than a whisper. Roman looked at him, surprised. “I just walked in this morning and he was sitting right here.” He patted the couch next to him. “Watching some kind of true crime shit. Nobody told me. I was barely even awake- I didn’t know what to do. I talked to Patton but… I don’t know. I just can’t feel good about this.”

Roman took the bowl of burned popcorn. Virgil hadn’t touched it. He opened the bag of gummy worms and offered it to him. Virgil took some, shoving them in his mouth miserably and switching the TV to Disney+. Roman raised his eyebrows, tear tracks still stained on his face. “Don’t pity me, Virgil. Of all the things I want from you, your pity will never be one.”

“I just want you to pick tonight. I’m not in the mood for Coraline anymore.” Virgil knew that Roman really needed something to control. He wasn’t pitying the prince, he just wanted to support him in the little ways he could. He handed Roman the remote like it was an olive branch. Roman took it.

He was going to have another chat with Patton soon.

#my writing #fic #seasons shifting #my fics #fic updates #sanders sides #virgil sanders #anxceit #janus sanders #post svs:r #sanders sides fic #ts virgil #implied logicality #ao3 link

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

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The Power of Storytelling: Something to Protect

listen nonny i wanna put the full ask here but it's so long so i'm just gonna link it here

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: none for this part

Pairings: anxceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2742

Tobias fiddles with the strap on the bag as he walks toward the tent grounds. Merk had promised this was the best he could do and, well, the blacksmith had never let him down before. Anticipation and fear war in his chest as he gets closer and closer.

“I didn’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important or worthwhile,” he mumbles under his breath, “and I’m sorry I broke your box. I didn’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important or worthwhile and I’m sorry I broke your box.”

He can do this. He messed up, he will apologize and try and fix it. That’s what he should do, that’s what he’s going to do, it’s happening. Right now.

But what if Invoq’s still angry? What if he laughs in Tobias’s face and tells him to get lost, that he never wants to see him again? What if he does never see him again? What if he’s already gone when he gets there?

Tobias shakes his head. No use thinking about that now. Remember what you’re going to say, you idiot, focus on that.

“I didn’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important or worthwhile and I’m sorry I broke your box. I didn’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important or worthwhile and I’m sorry I broke your box.”

He turns the corner and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the tent still there, pennant flapping in the wind. He glances down at the bag in his hand and pushes onward. His recitations become internal, not wanting to embarrass himself any further by admitting that he’s rehearsed this, or worse, making Invoq think it isn’t genuine.

He pauses before he knocks and takes a deep breath.

“Oh!”

Just as he raises his hand to knock, someone barrels through the tent and almost knocks into him. He stumbles back, arms around his precious cargo, only to find Invoq doing the same in front of him. They splutter, looking at each other.

“I, um—“

“I was just coming to find you.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I, uh, I was looking for you too.”

“You, um, you found me.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Tobias shifts a bit. “I, um…I had something I wanted to say to you.”

Invoq shifts, still hiding something behind his back. “You did?”

“I’m—“ goddamnit, this is why we practice, “I didn’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important, and um…”

He shoves the bag at Invoq who fumbles and takes it.

“I’m sorry I broke your box.”

Invoq stares down at the bag. “Is this…for me?”

“Yeah. I, uh, didn’t get a good look at it while I was, um…” Tobias scratches the back of his head. “But I asked Merk if he could make something, and I, uh, this way you might not have to…spend so much?”

Invoq frowns, stuffing whatever he’s carrying back inside the tent as he opens the bag. His eyes widen as he pulls out what Tobias’s best guess of the latch was on the box, laying it in his gloved hand. He looks up at Tobias, mouth open.

“I know it’s probably not right, but…” he shrugs, “figured it was the least I could do.”

“How did you…”

“I said I didn’t get a good look at it, but I’ve, uh, I’ve had to pry people out of…boxes before.” He looks away. “I figured there must be something else on it that you could open from the inside. You’re…you know enough about what you’re doing to have…planned something like that.”

“You’ve…you’ve had to what?”

He looks up to see Invoq’s white face. “Huh?”

“You said you’ve had to pry people out of boxes before?” When Tobias nods slowly, Invoq curses and fumbles for the thing he’d been carrying. “Here.”

Tobias opens the pouch slowly and tips it to let the contents fall into his hand. A single gold key. He looks up as Invoq points at it.

“That’s my master key. Goes to all the locks on all of my props. It’s the only thing that can get me out of anything I get myself into. I have two copies, and now…now you have one.”

Tobias’s breath catches in his throat as he turns it over. “I…”

“I’m sorry too.”

“…Invoq?”

Invoq shakes his head. “I…I didn’t think about what it might be like for you to come along and see…that. And you…you had no way of knowing what I was doing, so…”

“You scared me,” Tobias admits, “you really scared me.”

“I know, I just—I didn’t want to admit it. And don’t say it’s okay,” he says sternly, pointing at him, “because it isn’t. It’s not okay and you don’t have to pretend it is.”

Tobias just nods. Invoq sighs.

“And don’t pretend it’s part of you being a sellsword either. I’ve met other sellswords, none of them care like you do.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.”

Invoq nods, a little awkward. Then he holds up the latch. “Thank you, too, for this. I, um…I won’t practice alone anymore. You can come keep an eye on me, if…if you want.”

Tobias smiles. “Yeah, I do want.”

“I’d offer to explain to you how the trick works, but…” Invoq glances down at the latch with a smile. “I think you figured it out already.”

“A bit, yeah.”

Invoq sighs, the familiar dramatic act seeping in like warm morning sunlight. “And to think, is all my magic so easily seen through?”

“That’s not the magic,” Tobias mumbles, resolutely avoiding his questioning gaze, “you’re the magic.”

He hears Invoq’s intake of breath and turns to go, hide his flushing cheeks somewhere else, when a hand catches his chin and makes him look up. Before he can say anything, the hand cups his cheek instead, and Invoq looks at him for a moment before bringing their foreheads to rest together gently.

“Thank you,” he whispers against Tobias’s nose and mouth, “thank you, my friend.”

He can’t do anything but stand there, the glove cool against his cheek, leaning into him in the quiet of the clearing.

They lose track of how long they stand there, only pulling apart when a chillier breeze makes Invoq shiver and press closer to him. Tobias reaches out and wraps his hands around Invoq’s upper arms, rubbing firmly.

“Come on, let’s get you in the tent, out of the wind.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oh?”

Invoq grins at him. “Conras is supposed to be in town tonight again, will you come with me?”

Tobias hesitates. Go somewhere with Invoq? Yes, absolutely. Risk getting bizarrely accurately called out by an old man who looks like he can see into his soul? Rather not, thank you.

But then Invoq pouts and says: “Please?”

“Okay, now you’re definitely pouting.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Shall we?”

He puts up a good-natured grumble but lets Invoq loop his arm through his and walk down the path. “You seem comfortable there.”

“Oh, you mean here?” Invoq leans against him. “Yes, well, you’re a very good arm to lean on.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Mm. Perhaps I should hire you after all, if only to escort me everywhere.”

Tobias laughs. “By the way the town’s been talking, I bet they think you’ve already done that.”

Invoq throws his head back and laughs too. “We really have been attached at the hip, hmm?”

“Enough for people to notice and talk.”

“People rarely do little else.”

“Well,” Tobias says, pulling Invoq a little closer, “I’m happy to escort you anywhere you’d like to go.”

Invoq’s brow quirks. “Anywhere?”

“Yes. Even to the ball.” He smirks a little at how much it catches Invoq off guard. “Or would you rather I ask you properly?”

“I, um—I—“

He chuckles. “I would be honored to escort you to the ball, my lord.”

“Oh, he even says ‘my lord,’” Invoq mutters to himself, “alright, fine, fine.”

“Well, if that’s how you feel, you could always say no.”

“What? No, no, that’s not what I…” Invoq trails off when he sees the smirk on his face. “You’re…you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Yep. And it worked.”

“You,” he declares, “are rude.”

“Pretty much.” He grins. “You gonna tell me to quit it?”

“Never.”

They laugh all the way to the circle of logs. They end up meeting with another group of townspeople who smile and wave—and nudge each other at seeing the two of them so close—as they near the fire pit. The children are already gathered there, eagerly bickering about what story they should ask for first. They sit as the night begins to close in again, waiting for Conras to arrive. Sure enough, soon one of the children spots him and they rush off to escort him to his seat.

“Well, my little ones,” Conras says as he looks around the fire pit, “what shall this old man tell you about tonight?”

The children immediately begin to clamor for his attention, for stories, but his gaze is down near the outside of the circle. After a moment, he holds up his hand and the children fall silent.

“Amelia,” he calls softly, leaning down, “Amelia, what’s the matter, little one?”

The child, a little girl on the corner, shakes her head. Conras lets out a quiet noise, opening his arms and reaching down.

“Come here, little one, come…shed your tears here.”

Amelia goes, letting Conras pick her up and cuddle her in his arms. The other children begin to talk amongst themselves again, giving the two of them privacy. They seem to be having their own whispered conversation, interspersed with more cuddles when the poor child can’t get her words out.

They should look away, as others have done, yet Tobias can’t. There’s something quietly hypnotic about watching Conras comfort the little girl, even though he feels like a bit of a voyeur as he does it. Perhaps it is that his heart is that much more sympathetic to the plight of a child, or ensuring that the townspeople he tries to protect are safe, but whatever it is keeps his gaze there, even when Conras glances up and catches him.

His eyes widen but he doesn’t look away, instead hoping the cocktail of concern and protectiveness churning in his gut shows nakedly on his face.

Conras holds his gaze for a moment, inscrutable, before a warm smile crosses his face and he nudges Amelia. He nods in Tobias’s direction and she looks, her poor face streaked with tears, but able to hold his gaze. He whispers something to her and she nods, slowly getting down and coming over to him.

“Hey, there,” Tobias says softly, making sure his sword and anything else sharp is set aside and holding out his arms, “what can I do for you?”

Amelia holds out her arms, silently asking to be picked up. He does, setting her gently in his lap and helping her wrap her arms around him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “what’s the matter?”

“‘M scared.”

“Scared?” He glances at Invoq, who scoots a little closer. “What’s scaring you?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?” She nods. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Amelia, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Amelia, then. I’m Tobias, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I like your ribbons.”

“Thanks.” She shuffles a little, squeezing him a bit tighter. “Conras said you could help.”

“That’s right, I can.” He adjusts his grip a little to pull her firmly against the bulk of him. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“It—it is?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I take jobs to make sure you’re safe from things that could hurt or scare you. If people are scared, they come to me and I help them.”

Amelia snuggles closer. “I’m scared.”

“And here you are.” He reaches up to pat the back of her head. “Do you want to talk a little more about what’s so scary or do you just want me to hold you?”

“I…I don’t like the dark.”

“The dark? No, I don’t like the dark either. It’s really hard to see.”

“Y-yeah.” One of her hands plays with the back of his collar. “I don’t know if something’s coming to get me.”

“Like what?”

“L-like a wolf, or a monster, or—or—or someone big and scary.”

“Well, if a wolf wanted to come and get you, it would have to get past all the guard dogs. And they’re big and strong and love you a lot, don’t they?”

Amelia nods.

“And if someone big and scary wanted to get you, they’d have to get through your parents, right? Your parents would be really scary for you.”

“Mommy is scary sometimes when people are mean.”

“And I bet she’d be real scary if someone wanted to come get you.”

Amelia takes a shuddering breath. “And what about a monster?”

He tightens his grip on her and holds her close, leaning down to put his mouth next to her ear. “A monster would have to get through me. And I can be very, very scary.”

“You’re not scary.”

“I’m not scary to you, no, because you’re my charges and I keep you safe.” He pulls back a little when she moves and rubs away a tear. “I’m very scary to things that make you upset.”

“That’s true,” Invoq murmurs quietly, “he can be scary. And he really wants to keep you safe.”

Amelia sniffles. “R-really?”

Invoq nods, “really. He helped keep me safe.”

“He did?”

I did?

“Yes, he did. He’ll keep you safe too.”

Amelia looks back at him and he nods, letting her lean down and cuddle him again. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you want to stay with me or go sit with your friends?”

“I think I wanna go back to my friends.”

“Okay. But anytime you need a hug, you come to me, okay?”

“Okay.” She squeezes him tighter for a moment and then he helps her slide off his lap. They watch her scurry back to her friends, listening to Conras’s story. She looks over her shoulder a few times and he always waves back.

“You’re good with them,” Invoq murmurs as the story wraps up.

“I’m good with scared people,” he murmurs back, “that’s all.”

Invoq nudges him. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

He’s thankful that the low light of the fire covers his flush.

“Conras?”

“Yes, little one?”

“Will you come to the ball?” The child peers up at him, eyes wide. “Please? It’d be so much fun!”

Conras laughs. “No, my dear, I will not be going to the ball. Have you seen the state of my clothes?”

The children laugh too as he points out a massive hole in his cloak, politely waving away the seamstress’s offer to fix it.

“No, my friends, I’m afraid I would not be welcome there. That is a very different kind of fun.”

“Then you should tell us another story,” the children cry, “because you won’t be with us at the ball.”

Conras bows his head. “What would you like to hear?”

Virgil takes off Tobias’s clothes and looks at the key on his desk. He runs his fingers over it, the cool metal making his hand tingle.

He looks at his wardrobe and at the rest of the Imagination clothes. It’s been such a long time since he had a reason to wear some of them, he can’t wait.

He looks at the key again. Reaches out and picks it up, feeling the weight in his palm.

He’s going to tell him. If he’s right—and he’s pretty sure he is—at the ball, he’ll tell him.

Janus sets Invoq’s hat on its stand and runs a hand down the cloak hanging next to it. This is it, his first appearance as Invoq at a ball. It’s going to be spectacular, he can almost see it now. As he turns, he catches sight of the last of Invoq’s face fading into his.

He should tell him. He…he owes it to him now. And he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one who figured it out.

When the ball comes, he’ll tell him.

And if he’s really who he thinks he is…he has no idea how that’ll go.

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