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loyalshipper asked, "Okay, adopted!Angus when he’s like 15 who is on a case and runs into Kravitz because he had quite yet realised he was tracking down a necromancer and temporarily gets spelled into being a 6 month old."

“Angus Fortitude McDonald!”

In spite of being nearly sixteen years old, in spite of that being almost an adult. In spite of that age already being an adult in many species that just happened to not be his own… Angus jumped in his hiding spot. He turned, pasting on the world’s fakest ingratiating smile, to face one of his adopted dads.

“Hello, sir…”

Dad had his Stern Reaper Face on. It held little to no fears for Angus, because Dad often used his skeletal visage to emphasise how much it was past his bedtime. What did give Angus some trepidation were the multiple reasons why his dad could be here and now. All of them resulted in the conclusion that he, Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective, was in deep, deep crap.

“Don’t ‘hello sir’ me, son… what the fuck are you even doing here? You said you were out on a case.”

“I am out on a case, sir. I’ve traced the cult to this location. I was just about to take some notes.”

“I’m just about to take in some dangerous necromantic bounties, maybe you should–”

Too late. One of the cultist nutcases had found them. They fired off one spell. Kravitz leaped into action, scythe of office whirling. Bounties were reaped, and a battle was epic, but a father’s mind was constantly concerned about the fate  of his son. He wasn’t dead - he would know. That thought alone was enough to keep him moving forward. Angus was alive, he reasoned, therefore Angus was safe.

He was - in a very technical way - right and wrong at the same time.

Angus was alive, true. Angus was safe - technically. He was still exactly where Kravitz had left him after the Reaper leaped into action. This was because the spell used had de-aged Angus McDonald to a state of complete helplessness. As Kravitz found out to his detriment when the Reaping was done.

Angus McDonald was much, much smaller now. So small that not a single one of his former garments fit him any more. He could sit up, wobbling slightly as he did so, and stare in confusion at the world  around him because literally everything was a blur.

Angus McDonald was both nearly sixteen and technically six months old.

“Oh fuck,” Kravitz sighed. “Taako’s going to fucking kill me.”

*

Taako did not, actually, fucking kill him. At first, he gasped in glee and cooed, “You stole me a baby! Aw, thanks, sugar skull. I was getting a little empty-nesty around here… Hello da baba… hello…?”

Since Taako’s arms were full of prodigy progeny, Kravitz decided to break the truth. “Uh. Dove? This one’s a baby we stole earlier…” He drew out the signature satchel, glasses, fancy lad cap… and the wand on a lanyard. Laying them on a nearby tabletop.

“Angus?” Taako said, staring worriedly into the baby’s unfocussed eyes.

Baby Angus chortled and grasped for his Papa.

“Okay,” Taako started pacing, soothing the infant version of his teenaged son as he went. “Okay. Obviously not anyone’s fault. Guessed that much. So. How the fuck–?”

“Our cases collided and while we were arguing about it, one of them got a spell off.”

“No clue what it was? How to reverse it?”

“Not yet,” allowed Kravitz. “The good news is that all the necromancers are in ghost jail, so the Raven Queen and I are letting Lup play with them until they confess.”

Taako smiled. “My sister’s on the job, and it’s a job she loves. We’ll have this sorted in no time.”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 1]

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 63 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter - Blupjeans babies!

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dualityandsuch asked, "Prompt: Pocket Angus McDonald"

In Taako’s defence, he never thought he had to run a perception check whilst packing for an adventure. That was his line and he was sticking to it. Even with an actual baby on the battlefield.

“I’m not a baby,” insisted Angus McDonald, fresh out of Taako’s Pocket Spa and smelling of pumpkin spice, for some reason. Also an actual baby. “I am twelve, sir.”

“Horseshit,” said Taako reflexively. “You were eleven, last year.”

“That’s kind of how years work, sir. They pile up.”

“That’s nice,” said Taako. “Keep your baby head down or you won’t be getting any more pile.”

“I’m not a ba–”

“FUCKING DUCK!” Taako shoved him down, moving into the way of some bad guy’s overpowered arcane blast. He shot something from his Umbrastaff, but it didn’t look good for the world’s favourite flipwizard.

Taako fell. Singed to a crisp. Down to negative hit points.

“SIR!” Angus readied his wand and fired off the heaviest-hitting spell he knew, one of Taako’s specials. “Abraca-fuck you!”

Frankly, it was amazing that it took the bad guy down. Angus didn’t have that many levels nor that many spell slots. The heroes of Story and Song would later claim that they had softened the big bad up for him.

But that wasn’t important to Angus right now. He ran to Taako, frantic, and poured a healing potion into his mouth. “Sir! Are you all right, sir?”

“…I canonically cannot die,” murmured Taako. He opened his mismatched eyes and smiled. “There’s my beautiful magic boy…”

“Sir, you nearly died.”

“Key word - nearly. That’s the important part,” he sat up and ruffled Angus’ hair. “Chillax, okay? Taako’s gonna be fine.”

“What the hell were you doing here, kid?” Magnus demanded. “That was fuckin’ dangerous. Never do that again!”

“Ease off, Magnuts. He saved my life. Technically.”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]

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loyalshipper asked, "Baby!Angus’s first Candlenights? Either present opening, Candlenights dinner, or watching Taako stress over Candlenights dinner"

“Any particular reason why your spawn is in a highchair, babe?”

“Several,” said Apa, who was doing several things at once only moreso,  with extra anxiety on the side. Angus could tell. Apa always whisked or mixed faster when he was stressed about something. “One, he likes to be tall. Two, poor baby’s got a little of the separation anxiety and he’s happier when he can see what Apa’s doing. Three, we’re learning some words.”

“Any interesting ones?” teased Aunty Lup.

“Chop,” said Angus, who thought it was interesting to watch the knives turn things into chunks. “Chop, chop, chop… ‘lice! Chop, ‘lice, dice.”

“Aaaw, that’s too adorable. You’re sure I can’t steal him?”

“Go fuck’n make your own.”

“Duckie,” echoed Angus.

“Almost, sweetling. We got us a goose. Gooooose…” Which was a big pink blob somewhere beyond Angus’ range of focus. “Which counts as a dire duck, I think…”

“Only on that one world with the mega-versions of everything. Can Aunty Lulu help Ango make Maple Thumbprint Cookies?”

Angus jiggled in his chair and giggled in excitement. Cooking with Aunty Lup was the best! He got to be all kinds of messy and could play with the dough and it was always super tasty afterwards. “Map’l Lulu!”

“I think that’s a ‘yes’.”

“You’re still not stealin’ my baby, sis.”

“Oh, just make the stuffing, we’ll be making a mess. Won’t we, Ango?” Aunty Lup picked him up out of the high chair and gave him a cuddle as they danced around and she sang. “It’s a mes-sy bab-y Can-dle-nights, that’s how you know it’s fuuunnnnn… If the baby’s mess’d from top to toe, then the fun has just be-guuunnnn…”

Angus wriggled in her arms and laughed and said, “Map’l, map’l, map’l!”

Angus got to add ingredients to the bowl, and turn the handle of the sifter, and help Aunty Lup stir everything together. He got to squish the dough and leave handprints in it. He had to sit and watch as Aunty Lup added special sweet jelly to the handprints, and was yawning in his seat when they went into the oven.

“Aaawww… someone’s ready for Santa’s visit…”

“Merle better not give him a godsdamned potplant. Augh! My seasoning!”

“I’ve got ‘im, Dove. You worry about the food.” Papa had Angus in his arms and there was bath time and PJ’s and tucking in to his cradle cote with the most patient of the cats as a teddy bear.

There were delicious smells when he woke, and the cat who was with him oozed out into the bigger, greater expanse of the house tree. Angus crawled out to the opening of the larger cote to see a whole lot more grownups than usual. He could spot Apa and Aunty Lup in the kitchen, and the big shape with the blue legs had to be Uncle Barry.

“Heeeyyy, it’s the pipsqueak.” The big fuzzy shape resolved itself into Uncle Magnus. “Hello, Master Angus. Shall I be your transportation, this morning?”

“Up! Up!”

Uncle Magnus had a lot of Up to spare. Angus laughed to be yeeted briefly above everyone else’s heads.

“Oi! Careful with him…” said Papa.

“I’m careful, chill out.”

There were colourful things under the mountainous Candlenights tree. Angus could only see blobs, but they sure got his attention. They twinkled along with the fairy lights and had NOT been there the night before. One of the cats emerged from the depths over them, stretching as it went.

“Aaaah!” Angus pointed. “Colours!”

“Lots of colourful presents, yeah,” cooed Uncle Magnus. “The star of the show’s noticed the presents, and good old Santa has been here.”

“You guys owe me a new lumbar support,” grumbled Grampa Merle from under a host of cats. He was stationary, squishy, and warm. Three things the cats adored. There may or may not have been a bonus fourth with the things that were always in his beard. Angus couldn’t tell from this far away.

Apa dusted himself off. “Okay, the goose is getting cooked, we can hand out presents, now.”

“Pwesents,” echoed Angus.

“That’s the Candlenights spirit,” cooed Aunty Lup. “Gimmie love, gimmie lots, gimmie Candlenights trove.”

“That hardly rhymes, Lulu.”

“Grinch!”

Uncle Magnus put Angus down near Papa, who had distribution duty. “Oh, this one says it’s for a special little boy.”

“Must mean me,” joked Grampa Davenport.

“It’s from Santa,” rumbled Apa. “That means it’s for the baby.”

The present fit neatly into Angus’ lap, and the colourful paper was fun to play with. So much fun that he almost didn’t notice when some of it tore.

“Well, the wrapping paper’s a hit…”

“He’s not quite a year old, Luce. Let him discover.”

Oh! There were things inside the bright colourful outsides! This one was a bouncy ball! Angus tossed it up and watched it swirl with colours and sparkles as it bounced to a stop and, of course, got attacked by a couple of cats. He crawled after it, laughing. Trailing ribbons and paper that the cats pounced upon, much to the hilarity of all.

Hours passed by like that, with ripping paper and ribbons and so many fun things and cats pouncing and laughter and… and then, there was the feast. An entire table full to the brim with delicious food and a golden-brown roast goose and thumbprint cookies and things wrapped in other things and so much colourful stuff. Angus wanted to try it all.

He said, “YAH!” to everything, even the dreaded vegetables, because Apa and Aunty Lup made it all look and smell so attractive.

This just had to be the best day in the whole world!

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 2]

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 60 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter - more Kravitz-luume shenanigans.

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trainwreckgenerator:
“just woke up
”

trainwreckgenerator:

just woke up

(via sapphireswimming)

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Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 59 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter, Taako gets the news about the new family member.

cw: vomiting

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loyalshipper asked, "Baby Angus being sick for the first time in his very young, very short life and Taako and Krav freaking out while Merle exasperatedly has to heal Ango."

When Kravitz came back at one in the morning, he found Taako pacing the floor with a very upset Angus in his arms. The baby was just wearing a diaper and Taako was looking very, very frazzled indeed.

“Great, you’re back,” said Taako. “Put that frosty hand of yours on our boy’s brow, real quick. Or hold him.” He didn’t even wait for permission, just thrust a whiny baby into his arms.

Angus just whimpered, but he was scalding hot to Kravitz’s senses. Hotter than Taako usually felt when he felt compelled to pounce on his undead hubby. “He… shouldn’t be this warm,” he allowed.

“No, our boy’s feverish,” said Taako. He had his Stone of Farspeech out and was apparently dialling a frequency from memory. “And it’d help if a certain alleged Cleric would PICK UP HIS DAMN STONE!”

Angus mewled piteously, poor baby had hardly any voice left to cry.

Kravitz hummed some soothing tunes, not exactly focussed on a spell, just trying to soothe their baby. Poor little Ango. Apa Taako had tried several home remedies, if the mess on the counter was any indication. Herbal teas and medicines, ice, herbal teas turned into ice… cooling washcloths, the lot.

“…the frequency you called did not pick up, if you would like to leave a message…” Taako slapped the stone down with an, “Abraca-fuck-you!”

Angus cried weakly, a limp and miserable weight in Kravitz’s arms.

“I could try a healing spell,” Kravitz offered.

Taako took a few steadying breaths. “You got Cure Disease?”

“No, but I do have Revifying Slumber… it might help break the fever if it counts as a Condition.”

“Worth a shot,” Taako shrugged. “I’m calling Mags. He’s closer to Bottlenose Cove, so he can go kick Merle’s ass for me.”

Kravitz started humming Lean on Me as he juggled Angus from one shoulder to the other. The magic flowed with the notes and Angus drowsed as he sucked his thumb. It was difficult for him to tell as he warmed up through the power of true love, but it seemed like Angus’ fever might be easing.

“Yeah, that’s Krav in the background. Ango’s sleeping for now, but… babies, right? Just… go sic your direhounds on Merle and get up his ass for having his Stone turned off. We need a cure or a rest or something… Already? Sweet. Soon.” Taako hung up. “Magnus is rushing in.”

“That’s good news,” sighed Kravitz. “Did my spell work?”

Taako felt their baby. “Still hot, so… nope. At least he gets a little sleep, poor mite.”

…and the parents, not so much. Kravitz could tell. “Have you had any kind of rest?”

“For the two days since you left?” Taako asked. “He started on this thing yesterday and I’ve been calling the Dwarf every other hour since that afternoon.”

So… possibly not. “I’m guessing I can’t spell you on this watch?”

“Fuck no.” Taako’s stone chimed, indicating Merle’s frequency. Taako pounced, “ThisiscasadelTaako, pleasetellmeyou’recominghere,”

Magnus’ voice said, “He had it on Silent the entire time, and yes, I am bringing him. Super-speed.”

“…fuck me, he has the Boots of Haste again,” muttered Taako. “Great news, lug. Just make sure he doesn’t impact the door on his way in. And re-set his fucking Stone while you’re there.”

“I already did that.”

Taako wavered a little during a really long blink. Kravitz caught him in a spare arm and guided him to the couch, draping a sleeping baby across his chest. “You just keep him close, Dove. I’ll do all the fielding.”

Taako mumbled, “You know I’m going to catch whatever crud Ango’s got, right? I’m going to be hideously ill.”

Kravitz said, “In sickness and health, babe,” and then smooched both his loves.

Magnus rushed in, Dwarven Cleric over his shoulder. Dogs at his heels. Every cat in Casa del Taako fled for safe enclosures and Angus himself woke at the ruckus and started his weak cries again.

Taako got up, glaring boiling liquid death at Merle and Magnus, and began again on the Grumpy Baby Two-step. “Get on over here and do that voodoo you do, damnit,” he grouched.

“I did make a promise,” Merle grumped, waddling over to the centre of attention. Taako sat so he could reach, and tried to fend off the sniffing and curious dogs that seemed to be everywhere.

“Heel,” Magnus barked, and the dogs seemingly evaporated from the area, clustering around the big, burly oaf. “Sit,” and they sat, panting in the way that all dogs did when they knew they were being good good boys.

Merle laid on hands and mumbled a few words to Pan and finally, Angus’ fever broke. “He’ll be able to ride out the rest, no trouble,” he announced. “Just a cold.”

“Just a cold,” mocked Taako. “Dude, a cold doesn’t drag out that long. Susan and her fucking anti-vax and wine crowd let that killer ‘flu get loose, didn’t they?”

“It wasn’t the killer ‘flu, geez…” Merle rolled his eyes. “It’s just some cruddy rhinovirus that’s doing the rounds. Hit him a little hard, that’s all.”

“I’m gonna tear her and her little disease vectors a new one, just you wait,” Taako vowed.

“After a decent nap, Dove?” suggested Kravitz. “And a good meal. When was the last time you ate?” He was definitely two-missed-dinners crabby. Kravitz could tell.

“Uuuuuhhhh…”

“Yeah, you need to eat something,” decided Magnus. “One Magnus Special coming right up.”

“Oh gods, not Depression Dinner,” moaned Taako. “Out of the way, lugnuts, you always get the spice profile wrong…”

Magnus shot Kravitz an ‘OK’ sign and then scooped up Merle for the trip back. “It’s been a slice. See you soon.”

Magnus, Merle, dogs and all zipped away in a small cloud of dust, leaving Kravitz the alleged trouble of getting his two closest treasures to bed.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 1]

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dualityandsuch asked, "Fic request: In Kintsugi Taako “I’m always a slut for pasta” Taco"

There were certain advantages to living on the moon. For starters, the regular threats couldn’t get to them. Second, Kalen had no idea where any of his favourite targets were. Third…

“There’s a fucking Fantasy Olive Garden on the MOON!”

None of their patchwork family had seen Taako flip out like this about a restaurant. In fact, they’d never seen him excited about anything related to food since -well- since Glamour Springs.

“Fantasy Olive Garden?” said Merle, who missed the drama in Glamour Springs. “Really?”

“Shoosh,” advised Mak’arune. “This is good.”

“It might be the best,” said Angus.

“I didn’t know you were into Fantasy Italian,” said Magnus.

Taako said, “I’m always a slut for pasta.” He was looking at the Fantasy Olive Garden like someone who was looking at paradise. “And those bread sticks… hmmm…”

The rest of the patchwork family looked at each other with speculation in their eyes. They had a plan.

So, too, did Madam Director, who had added the Fantasy Olive Garden to the moon base five seconds after she heard about Taako’s difficulties with food. It took a special kind of genius to know how to use someone’s weaknesses for the greater good.

…the kind of genius it took one hundred years to create…

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Anonymous asked, "A tired, grumpy, young Ango, all too tired but also wound up, doing that thing kids do, going in circles, when they're tired. Up to Papa Taako to coerce him to sleep. If you dont mind that is. Thank you"

Taako watched their adopted son going around in circles. Anxious or excited or just plain not wanting to go to sleep because the previous order of things was disrupted. It was easier to watch than trying to chase the kid down for sure. It had already been a long-ass day and he was personally too worn out to do extra pre-bedtime calisthenics.

Ango was obviously tired and just as obviously too stubborn to admit it. Going around the place in circles because keeping his body moving kept his brain awake or some shit like that. Taako, now a grown-ass adult, was more than a hundred years from that behaviour or those levels of energy.

How had his poor mother survived himself and Lup racing up and down the stairs on the twilit summer nights of Tre-Llew Ddion? No wonder she handed them off to Uncle Ench at summer’s end. They must have plain worn her the fuck out.

No, that was unfair. His whole family had secret weapons. Loggy foods. Pre-bedtime treats that were guaranteed to nail a kid down, stomach-first.

Taako smiled, leaving Angus to his orbits, and got out the kid-stopper ingredients. Sweet-pop fritters. Whipped cream, natch. The family recipe for hot chocolate… Flour, milk, cream (doy), honey -Ango was old enough for honey, but still too young for processed sugar- maple syrup, cocoa, maple sap, drinking chocolate, maple crystals, malt… herbs and spices…

Taako set up his prep station so he could keep an eye on Ango. All these recipes were the sort that could be put down in a second or less if an orbiting kid managed to trip and fall or otherwise hurt themself during their extended shenanigans. He seemed fine going around and around, but Taako wasn’t about to take any chances.

The thick, rich fritter batter was loaded with the nicer spices. Nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom, and just the right zing of ginger, then peppered through with small cubes of green apple, sweet corn kernels, and a generous handful of raisins. A dash of just the right amount of maple syrup and they were ready to become fat golden blobs in the deep fryer.

Taako started the milk warming up. More cardamom and nutmeg, less ginger and cinnamon. Cocoa, of course. Malt was the new secret ingredient. The old one, Taako recalled, was a carefully-measured spoonful of medicinal rum. Not allowed in this day and age, no matter how medicinal it claimed to be. He sweetened the whole thing with honey and added a dollop of cream for richness before he began whipping the rest up for garnish, sweetened with the slightest dash of maple sap.

Once the fritters were fried on both sides, Taako let them drain and dry a little on Fantasy Paper Towels before dusting them over with a sparkling of maple crystals. This was magic enough to lure his boy to the kitchen counter, where wide, dark eyes watched the ordinary magic of meal prep in progress.

Long years in Sizzle it Up! gave Taako the knowledge of just the right amount of horseshit to add into the presentation. So when he plated up, he not only added some whipped cream flowers to Angus’ two middle-sized fritter blobs, but also some sparks from his Prestidigitation.

The hot chocolate was strained into Angus’ favourite mug, loaded with pink marshmallows and topped with more of the cream. It also got a light dusting of drinking chocolate.

It was better than a Sleep spell, and far more enjoyable to boot. Ango was nodding before he got halfway through his second fritter. Those freshly-sticky fingers of his were the perfect segue into tooth-brushing and bath time.

A warm bath, with the white noise provided by the bubbles, had Ango floppy and complacent before the last button was done up on his fluffy, flannel PJ’s. Taako purred as he carried their boy to the big family cuddle cote.

“…w’nna wait f’r daddy,” Ango complained muzzily.

“I know, pun’kin,” Taako cooed. “Daddy’s havin’ a big adventure and we can’t be awake the whole time. ‘S bad for your health.” An idea came to him like a brilliant new recipe. “How about I teach you a way to get the same rest faster so you can be awake for longer? Would you like that?”

“Mm-hmm…”

Ango would probably fall asleep on the first attempt… and maybe up to the tenth, but it was worth a shot. Little half-Elves didn’t Trance as easily as the full-blooded ones. It all depended on how dominant his Elven side was, actually.

Taako helped him sit properly and taught the correct breathing rhythm. He got it straight out of the tin, brilliant lad. Next, guiding him into the meditative state of mindfulness and memory. This was where, according to the clever souls who wrote all those books, a half-Elf was most likely to slip into sleep.

Ango defied expectations and lifted off of the cushions of the cote for a solid minute. Of fucking course Taako took a Fantasy Polaroid of the event. Then, he fell into slumber and Taako guided him down into a comfortable sleeping position, tucked in with a warm, fluffy blanket and weighed down by one of the cats.

Gods-damned adorable.

Taako scooted a little away so he could Trance peacefully. When he came up -and floated down- Krav was just entering the cote, crawling inside with exaggerated care. They smiled at each other in recognition of the Parental fear of waking the baby.

“Hey, Dove,” Krav whispered. “Sorry I missed bedtime.”

“I got him rested anyway,” Taako whispered in turn. “I’d better be big spoon so our baby can see you when he wakes up.”

They enjoyed a good, long kiss before Krav settled down. As he got comfortable, he murmured, “What is in those fritters? I thought I was bone tired before, but… you could knock me out with a feather.”

Taako snorted at the pun. “Ancient Elven secret,” he said, playing with Krav’s hair. “Get some rest. I’ll watch over us.”

Krav didn’t need much more convincing. Those fritters packed a punch.

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