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.

Angus first sensed trouble when he felt Papa’s hands go cold. Papa froze bare seconds after that, so it was relatively easy to deduce that something big was amiss. 

Dad noticed too, and said, “Dove?”

Papa pointed a shaking finger at a humanman in a bookstore. He was waiting to sign books with his face on them and the title, Wrongful Evidence. There weren’t a lot of people buying it.

“Let’s… let’s go another way,” said Papa.

The man at the bookstore had other plans, and called, “Taako! Taako, come on over! Let’s settle this like adults.”

Papa muttered, “Gods damn it…”

Angus said, “Papa? What’s wrong?”

“Just… someone from my past, honey. Someone I thought I trusted…”

Angus had a few memories of the Story and Song. Well, ones that stuck in his head, at any rate. He did remember that trust was a huge deal for the Twins of the Starblaster. For someone to lose Papa’s trust… that had to make him a bad man. Angus didn’t like judging prejudicially like that, so he looked out for any other evidence of misdeeds or chicanery.

One: The way Papa greeted this Humanman. “Sazed,” he said with a chill beyond the arctic. “Got your spotlight at last, it seems. In a way.”

Two, the finer print on the covers of Sazed’s book: One man’s fight against a prejudicial legal system in his own words. Angus opened a copy on the table and started speed-reading. He mentioned a place called Glamour Springs. That was one of Papa’s nightmares, Angus recalled.

Papa still felt bad about something that had happened there.

Fortunately, there was a true crime display nearby and Angus could take more books to speed-read so long as he was within sight of Papa or Dad.

It didn’t take him long to find all the errors in Mr Sazed’s book. For starters, the forty deaths at Glamour Springs was only glanced at in there, but the other books never left out a single detail. One book even had complete autopsy reports.

When Angus came up for air, Papa was radiating icy fury and Dad was all but threatening vengeance in hushed yet civil tones. “Excuse me, sir,” said Angus. “Papa? Dad? I believe I’ve found some flaws in Mr Sazed’s key arguments.”

Sazed glared down at him and tried to loom. “You’re a baby,” he said. “You can’t even read.”

“On the contrary, sir, I can and have read five books on the topic of Glamour Springs. You weren’t declared innocent, nor exonerated for mass murders, but your trial was put on hold until sufficient evidence could be gathered. I have that evidence here.”

Papa’s frosted anger eased into soft, putty-like adoration. “That’s my boy,” he whispered. “That’s my beautiful genius boy…”

Angus placed five books in a line. Anatomy of a Massacre, The Ghoul of Glamour Springs, Minds of Monsters, Deliberate or Disaster, and Mr Sazed’s own Wrongful Evidence. “Mr Sazed’s trial was put on hold because the evidence in the Story and Song is not legal evidence and only holds to Papa’s character with all his memories intact. That part is regrettably true. However… Anatomy and Deliberate both state that wizards who transmute food always focus on the taste. Which is why Papa’s -and I quote your book- ‘stupid chicken tricks’ always involved the cooked product rather than the raw meat.”

Papa started to relax. Dad started radiated pride. Mr Sazed started looking nervous.

“Since Papa has never tasted arsenic, even within the Century of Stories, I find it suspicious that the people of Glamour Springs perished due to arsenic poisoning.”

“Nightshade,” corrected Mr Sazed. “It was nightshade poisoning. The elderberries were transmuted… and Taako’s certainly tasted nightshade.”

“Only during the Century, and that episode was documented and retold,” said Angus. “Papa had no memory of the Century during the years when he was running Sizzle it Up! sir. That was definitely well-known, especially in view of Papa’s genial attitudes to people during his decade incognito.”

Now Mr Sazed was looking really nervous. “Er,” he said.

“Further, the symptoms of arsenic poisoning only resemble the symptoms of nightshade poisoning, as described in Minds and Ghoul. There are distinctive differences between the two, and the victims of Glamour Springs all perished from Arsenic, and the evidence is very plain. Therefore, we have a large number of poisonings, connected with the Sizzle it Up! show. There is definite evidence in all who died, including those found with elderberries in their pockets or hands. Papa could not have created arsenic in food, so that leaves anyone else connected with the show. That leaves you, sir, as the only viable suspect.”

The gathered crowd, who had come to watch the fracas between Taako and his ex-manager, were starting to glare daggers at Mr Sazed.

“Further, Papa had no motive at all to poison anyone, sir. You, on the other hand, were repeatedly witnessed requesting time in the spotlight and equal billing. You had a definite motive to ruin Papa’s show.”

Mr Sazed had a knife. That was when the Fantasy Mall Cops pounced. Angus might have brought up enough circumstantial evidence to resume Sazed’s trial, but a fresh, attempted murder was far more interesting.

Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 53 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: Kravitz joins the purr pile

Tumbl'd 3: Forever TAZ - Chapter 51 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter, a loudmouth bigot gets taken down by a seven-year-old

[AN: Holy shit I missed this for so long AAAAAHHHH please don’t hate me, Nonny]

It was late, and Papa wasn’t home. Dad had kept Angus’ mind off it for this long, but the clock still ticked and the hours mounted up.

“Papa’s not back,” Angus worried. He had grown used to accepting the idea that new parents weren’t permanent and still feared that these ones would somehow vanish.

“Papa’s going to be fine,” said Dad. “I’d know if he was in danger. It’s way past your bedtime now. You’re in your pajamjams, you’ve heard your chapter…”

Angus couldn’t sit still, and couldn’t make himself be sleepy. He’d already had some of Papa’s guaranteed apple pancakes and better-than-a-sleep-potion hot chocolate, but he still couldn’t make himself rest. “Papa kisses me goodnight,” he managed, voice trembling. “He’s not here t’ kiss me g’night…”

“I know, pet. I know. Some missions take longer than a day, love. Papa loves you to bits, and he’ll be back as soon as he can. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup are going to help him if he’s in danger… It’s okay…”

Sniffle. Sob. “…’m scared ‘nyway…”

Dad held him close and started humming. Rocking gently as he swayed back and forth. “Au clair de la lune,/ Mon ami Pierrot,/ Prête-moi ta plume/ Pour écrire un mot…”

Angus didn’t understand Fantasy French, but the melody and rhythm were gentle enough to remind him that his tummy was overful of warm carbs and at least some of his family was here. He blinked… longer and longer… every time he opened his eyes or woke up a little, Dad was still singing. Softly. Gently. Calmly. If Dad could be relaxed about Papa not being home yet, Angus could certainly try.

Blink… most of the lights were out, there was just enough light to give shape to the darkness.

Blink… one of the cats was making biscuits in Angus’ leg.

Blink… the same cat and three of its fellows were curled up on him and Dad.

Blink… Gold and green light in the dark. The familiar shape of Papa in the night lights. “Hey, pumpkin… I head you missed me.”

“…’s worried ‘bou’chu…”

A warm smile. “I literally can’t die, baby. Not for a whole lot more years. Papa’s safe. It’s all okay.” Warm hands in his hair. Warm lips on his brow. “Wanna get tucked in now?”

“Five more minutes?” he begged.

Papa settled down with him and Dad and about five cats. “Sure thing.” His purr was the secret ingredient, and the next time he opened his eyes, it was dawn… and both his parents were still wrapped around him.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 0]

[AN: Wishing you well in your battle with the panics. May your happies at least quiet the little beasties down]

Angus McDonald, age six and a half, woke before the alarm was about to go off and, just in time, reached out to silence its musical chime. Papa hadn’t even entertained getting him a mechanical alarm with its harsh and frightening bell. That sort of thing brought back too many bad memories and Papa understood.

That was one of the reasons why he was doing this. One amongst very many.

Glasses on (he had the freedom of vision whenever he wanted it) slippers on his feet and bathrobe over his pyjamas (no more cold floors leaching heat and sensation from his toes) and gathered his clothes for the day (he had a choice, no more grey, thinning clothing that did nothing against either the chill or the heat) and padded off to the bathroom to wash. No more rough treatment from Nurse Stronginthearm. No more tepid water that smelled of carbolic and pee. No more harsh scrubbing sponges. He could take his pick of soaps and washing instruments, he could linger and luxuriate in bathing if he wanted to. But he chose to be quick and efficient, this morning.

This morning was parents’ day.

Washed, dressed, and the bathroom tidied up, he crept down to the kitchen and started gathering tools an ingredients. Two cookbooks, one scroll copied from Fantasy Youtube, and some of his own notes.

He was going to make his parents some lava cakes for parents day.

Angus had to melt the chocolate in a double boiler since Papa wouldn’t touch a Fantasy Microwave with a Barge Pole of Reaching. That was okay. He knew how to do that. Even for two batches of ganache. One hazelnut praline for Papa, and the other dark chocolate blood orange for Dad

Once they were ready, he poured them into the ice cube containers and popped them into the freezer. While they were cooling, he washed up and got the cake moulds and batter ready.

That was from one of Papa’s best cake recipes. The Choc-o-licious cake. Working on that batter took all the time he needed to have for the ganache to freeze.

Problem. The Fantasy Youtube video hadn’t told him about greasing the ice cubes tray. It took some serious twisting and at least one count of taking a cube out of the tray in small fragments.

Papa always said to use the happy accidents. Therefore, he stirred the little frozen chips into the batter and hoped for the best. One Choc-o-licious with the hazelnut ganache. The other with the dark chocolate blood orange. All set carefully into the right place in the Aga for cakes.

So far, so good. Sort of.

Angus cleaned up and peeked into his parents’ cote. They were still snuggled under the covers. The dawn light had yet to creep into Papa’s eyes and force him into consciousness.

It was so tempting to just crawl in there for a small nap, but he had cakes in the oven. Therefore, he went back to the kitchen with one of his favourite Caleb Cleveland books, and nearly burned them.

Which was why he wasn’t thinking when he smelled burning. He ran to the oven and pulled the tray out without first putting on an oven mit. It burned! It fell. Hot cake mess spattered all over the place and then Papa blinked into the area.

He stepped on the hot tray and in boiling-hot lava cake to scoop him up and then hurried him to the nearest bathroom. Cool water soothed Angus’ hurts and a minor potion of healing solved all the injuries.

Angus was still crying. “Your feet. I hurt your feet.”

“I’m the one who stepped in the hot stuff, bubeleh.” He finally ran his own feet under the cool water and downed a potion of his own. “See? All better.” Papa scooped him into his arms and purred. Soft and gentle and reassuring.

Angus still felt bad about the cakes. “I wan’ed to surprise you with a cake each an’ I was makin’ you some special lava cakes and I almost burned them and I didn’t mean to hurt myself an’ I’m so sorry…”

Papa rocked him. “Hey. Hey, little man. Hey. Hey, listen. It’s okay. We all make mistakes. It’s fine.”

“It’s parent’s day,” Angus sniffled. “Wan’ed t’ do somethin’ special.”

“Hey,” said Dad, who came in to see what the fuss was about. “You know what’s more special than cakes in bed?”

Sniff. “What?”

“Cakes made together.”

Once all hurts were healed and the damage undone via Prestidigitation practice, Taako surveyed Angus’ plan. “Not some bad invention, there, little dude. Good job putting it all together like that.”

Angus started smiling again. “Really?”

“Yeah, you did some good detective work there.” Papa gave him a hug and a kiss. “Want to learn the best way to do a ganache?”

Cooking together with Papa and Dad was the best. Papa knew every trick about cooking good food and showed them to anyone willing to learn. Dad and Ango grouped together as apprentices.

They learned a lot that morning. Including that ganache lava was best with ice cream.

“Thanks for being my parents,” he said.

“Thanks for being our kid,” said Dad.

“Without you, we’d have no special occasion to have cake for,” added Papa.

After that, the best part of the day - snuggling with his parents for a lazy day in. All cuddles and kisses and comfort.

[TAAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]

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Short Answer: Depends on the universe.
Long answer: This -

Canon Compliant

Angus McDonald baulked the instant the light spilled into the old tunnels. Agatha, her hand in his, felt his pulse jump. She crept forward and whispered, “Bad guys?”

“Worse,” Angus whispered. “Cobwebs.”

She peeked, looking in at what their dark lantern revealed. She leveled a glare at him. “Cobwebs scare you?”

“Not the cobwebs. The spiders that made them.” Angus felt compelled to add, “I don’t make fun of you for hating big heights.”

Young Angus Verse

Agatha noticed that Angus’ breathing quickened as they stepped into the confines of the tunnel. She whispered, “Claustrophobia?”

“Kind of,” he whispered back. “I told you about the orphanage I started in, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a lingering thing with small, dark spaces…”

Agatha understood. This was just like her lingering thing with small and fast insects. “It’s all right. There’s a way out the other end and we have a dark lantern. It’s going to be okay.”

He focussed on trying to breathe. “Sorry if I squeeze your hand too tight,” he whispered.

Circus verse

“…werk,” mumbled Agatha, pulling away from the edge.

Angus, used to the trapeze and the tightrope since practically infancy, looked over the edge. “Yeah, that’s a long way down. There’s a ladder. I could carry you…”

“…werk,” she repeated. “This is worse for me than thunderstorms are for you.”

“You be in one wind-tossed caravan once, and then argue with me,” he countered. “It’s okay. The ladder’s in good repair. I’ve never slipped in all my years. You’ll be fine.”

Agatha kept her eyes closed and clung tight all the way down.

Baby Birds AU

Angus shrank away from the table and the bowl of black-to-brown things that was one of the feast options.

Agatha, who’d taken him as her plus one on this mission, leaned closed to his ear and whispered, “You okay?”

“…looks like mould,” he whispered, breathing fast. “I hate mould. I’ve always hated mould.”

“These are butter-fried mushrooms,” she whispered. “They’re tasty. I promise they’re good.” To prove her words true, she speared some and set them on her plate, taking a cut and eating it. “See? It’s good.” Agatha offered him a tiny sliver. “Want to try?”

It took him ten deep breaths to brave a taste. Just like it had for her to try jellied eels.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]

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THIS IS SO GOOD HOLY FUCK I NEED MORE OF TINY ANGO

You’re in luck, friendo, because I have just copied all my Young Angus Verse minifics into an anthology over on ao3 [right here] for your viewing pleasure.

More minifics as more prompts come in, of course. You know where my ask box is.

Tumbl Into TAZ - Chapter 99 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

Fae shenanigans

New school! New books! New clothes! New people! Loud noise everywhere, of course. People made noise. They made a lot of noise, especially on occasions like orientation day at Miller Academy.

He knew this in advance. He thought he was prepared.

But still the hubbub of chatter hammered at his ears. Still, the confusion of uniformed bodies dazzled his eyes. Still, the eternal clatter of footwear on tiled floors vibrated his very bones.

And there was a black cloak around him and the cool touch of Mr Kravitz’s skin on his cheek. “Deep breaths, Chickie,” he cooed. “Need some green?”

Mr Taako was there, much warmer and soothing his hair. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“…loud,” he said. “Green please.”

The three of them made their way to the nearest small garden. Miller Academy catered to many kinds of genius and recognised the need for little courtyards full of green, growing things. This enclave had an abundance of feathery ferns and soft mosses to cover the ground. There was also a sort of wicker basket chair that his parents plopped him into like a prince into a throne. Papa at his left hand and Dad at his right.

“Deep breaths, baby,” said Papa. “I’m gonna call Aunty Lup and get her to bring your teachers over here, one at a time.”

“It’s not going to be like this all the time,” soothed Dad. “You’re going to be okay, Chick. Breathe with me.”

It was easy, now that they were in a space that felt safer, was less loud, and had a deep calm to it. He could focus on his breaths. Centre himself with the help of the wickerwork basket of a chair, and its inherent, subtle creaking.

“Lulu’s got this,” Papa returned to kneeling on the moss. “Need a hug?”

Angus lunged into his Papa’s arms. His bracelets jingled as they wrapped around him. He let his world be Papa’s perfume and the soft texture of his clothes and the silky softness of his hair and the warmth of his skin.

Somewhere outside of the world that was Papa, Dad said, “Want some Calm Emotion?”

Angus shook his head. This place and the comfort of his parents was good enough to defuse the rising tension caused by the hubbub of the halls. Two more breaths and he was able to stop his shaking.

By that time, the first of his teachers had arrived in Aunty Lup’s tow. A kind-faced half-Elf woman with skin almost as dark as Dad’s.

“Hi there, Angus,” she singsonged. “Orientation’s a big noise, huh?”

Angus let himself relax into Papa’s lap. “It’s good, now. My family knows how to help me.”

“We’re prepared for this sort of thing,” assured the teacher, who introduced herself as Miss Terkiish. “No more than ten students per classroom, easy courtyard access and soft rooms if the need arises.”

“According to the hall monitors, things should be going quieter in about ten minutes,” said Aunty Lup. “We can time the rest of the tour for the lulls in noise.”

Angus felt safe enough to say, “That sounds like a great idea. Thank you.”

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 6]

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