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.
It was the Conjoined Twin Act without the special shoe and the bespoke leggings. And more swearing and bickering, which always drew a laugh. Taako did the sparkles and the showy shit. Lup did the pyrotechnics. They both made fucking excellent food.
Taking it on the road was a stroke of genius. It meant that they would never be run out of town. They could run themselves out whenever the atmosphere turned bad. Not that there was much sign of that. The crowds absolutely loved them.
Lup couldn’t exactly remember who sponsored the Stage Coach or the merchandise deal, but they were moving so fast that neither of them could keep up with the demand for autographs. Lup grinned at her brother, who grinned back. They knew better than to say it, but this was it. This was them finally getting out of the gutter. This was their path to better things.
“Hello, again, gorgeous,” cooed Taako. “This is your third show. Like what you see?”
Lup sized him up in a cold second. Doughy boy. As far from gorgeous as he could get. No doubt Taako was attracted to the insurance that he would survive a winter or two and the fact that he would be less likely to run away.
“Uh. Uh. Are you the girl one?”
Okay. That lost him some points. More than a few, in fact. “I’m the girl one,” she iced. “So what?”
He blushed. “Uhm. You… look… really identical.”
Taako sensed the inherent problems at last and said, “Yeah we were born identical, but Lup decided to make a few improvements.”
There it was. That uncertain look. The once over. The sudden dawning of abject fear. Taako saw it too. This loser went from plausible companion to absolute nope in the tiniest moment.
“What’s your name, handsome?” said Taako, now completely feigning interest.
“Uhm. Sazed. Baker. I’m Sazed Baker.”
“Fuck off, Sazed Baker,” they said in unison.
They didn’t think about him again for their entire six-year tour of Faerun. They didn’t even recognise him when he turned up in Glamour Springs.
They knew who he was when he sabotaged the show, though. Using a simple cantrip to foul the food and give forty people food poisoning. Sure, he burned for it, but the Taaco & Taaco show was burned with him.
They never got to keep anything nice.
Back on the run. Back on the road. Back to the fucking gutters. Again. With luck, in three years or so, nobody would know who they were and they could start over.
“We can deal with this,” she insisted, huddled in a burrow. “Just a few years out of sight. No big. We’ll be back up on top.”
“Sure,” Taako lied. “Back on top. Easy.”
Lup rolled her eyes. Most of her time would get eaten by propping his pessimistic ass up for the duration.
[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]
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There was music. Someone humming. The bed was soft and warm and Angus almost didn’t want to wake up because he was sure it was a dream. That if he opened his eyes, he would be warm because one of the other kids had peed on his bed, which was only ever warm when that happened. The rest of the time, the metal cots of the orphanage were permanently cold, lumpy, and damp.
But there was never any music in the orphanage. And as his bedroom door creaked, bringing the humming closer, Angus opened his eyes and found the blur that was his spectacles. This couldn’t be the orphanage. They made him wait in line for them. And took them away at night. Here, he had a say in when he could see.
The humming person sparkled, and the blur of their head was mostly golden. That meant it had to be Mr Taako. Angus put his glasses on and smiled because he had it exactly right. Mr Taako kept humming as he drew the curtains. “Mornin’ little man. Do you know what today is?”
“Tuesday the fifteenth?”
“Technically correct,” said Mr Taako. “Today’s your party day, Angus. You are now and forever officially part of the family. Which means that you, my lovely little human bean,” Mr Taako added a playful boop to Angus’ nose, “get to meet the rest of our strange breed.”
It still seemed impossible. He hadn’t thought anyone could ever want a nerdy little kid like him, who only ever wanted to read in quiet corners, and whom all the other kids picked on. And, now that he had to mention it, was four years old and already knew how to use words like ‘whom’ properly.
“Are you sure they’ll like me, sir?”
There was that look again. Mr Taako had heterochromia, and his mismatched eyes echoed a pain that Angus couldn’t understand. And there was sympathy there, and more than a little sorrow. “Angus. My dude. They are going to love you because we love you. You’re family. You gotta love family.”
There was a second figure in the doorway. All shades of black and silver. “Dove, something in the kitchen is beeping and I know you told me to stay out of there…” Mr Kravitz looked vaguely worried.
“Fine. You take over with the bathing and dressing then. I’ll rescue the whatever.” Mr Taako swept a casual hand along Angus’ arm as he left, and passed Mr Kravitz by gathering him up in a kiss and a hug and sort of dancing his way through the door. He left pink lipstick on Mr Kravitz’s face, and Mr Kravitz didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Mr Taako rushed off with a, “Later, babe.”
“Love you, babe,” Mr Kravitz called back. He cleared his throat and put on one of his silly voices. “Roight,” he said. “I see we ‘ave ‘ere a desperate case of a small boy still in ‘is pajamjams. I ‘ereby sentence ‘im to a bubble bath followed by a roight proper dressin’ up.”
The voice always made Angus giggle. In fact, it had been the first thing that he had ever dared laugh at.
Mr Kravitz hugged him out of bed and carried him to the bathroom. It had a tub so big that four orphanage kids could easily occupy it, and it was always sparkling. Sparkling clean and just plain sparkling because every surface seemed made to glitter or gleam.
The water was steaming, but Mr Kravitz made certain that it wasn’t too hot, and let Angus pick the scent of the bubbles. Both Mr Kravitz and Mr Taako were always so careful at bath time. They never got soap in his eyes when doing his hair and they were never rough with him.
The nurses at the orphanage always plunged him into tepid, soapy water and gave him a thorough going-over with a scrubbing brush and lye soap. And the towels there were rough, mean things.
Not here. Here, Angus got a big, fluffy towel that could have been a blanket if it wanted to be. And then a bathrobe for the trip back to his room. Where he had license -after putting on his own undies- to pick out the clothes he wanted to wear that day.
His eye lingered on the dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins on it that Mr Taako had picked for him when they were shopping, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to try it on, just yet. He picked a staid and sensible pair of short pants, a button-down shirt, and a sweater-vest. And a bow-tie. He finished the look with a fancy cap with a feather in it. They were good clothes.
Mr Kravitz oversaw the shoes and socks. “Happy with this look?” he said.
“Yes, sir.” He looked exactly like one of the fancy boys he’d only seen from a distance. Walking hand-in-hand with a caregiver or staring out of coaches and bored by the fact that they could actually sit in a coach. “I’m starting to feel like this is really real.”
Mr Kravitz offered his hand, and Angus didn’t mind that his grasp was a little on the chilly side. Angus had never really had a caregiver to hold his hand and rather liked the privilege.
When they got downstairs, there were two Mr Taako’s. Side by side and cooking together as if they had been like that forever. Except one of him had their eyes around the wrong way. Green and amber instead of amber and green.
And she had a slightly different voice. “Oh wow,” she said. “Koko, I’m stealing your baby.”
“You and Barold are capable of making your own,” said Mr Taako. He had said he had a twin, but hadn’t mentioned how very much alike they looked.
“You must be Ms Lup,” Angus said. “Hello, ma’am.”
“Are you always this formal, kiddo?” asked Ms Lup.
“Yes’m. May I have a cookie, please?”
“One condition,” she juggled one off the cooling rack. “Say the worst word you know.”
“Do not corrupt my son, Lulu.”
Angus felt like he wanted to cry. He looked up to Mr Kravitz for permission.
“Go on. I’m sure we all know worse ones.”
Angus took a deep breath. Summoned up all his courage. Screwed his eyes shut and said, “Boogerface!”
Which earned him peals of laughter from Ms Lup and one cookie per hand. “You’re adorable. And too cute.” She knelt on the floor and smiled. “I’m your Auntie Lup and you will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”
Mr Taako said, “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.”
Ms Lup leaped up, “Oh shit, you said fuck!”
Mr Taako countered, “Oh fuck, you said shit!” And both of them laughed.
Mr Kravitz urged Angus out into the garden. “Let’s meet some others before those two expand your vocabulary.”
The first of the ‘others’ that Angus met was not a person, but an enormous dog. Angus turned away from trying to peek back at Mr Taako and Ms Lup to come face to whiffling nose with the biggest dog he had ever seen in his life.
“Johann! Down.”
And like a miracle, the dog was lying on the ground, legs tucked under its body and tail wagging optimistically. There was a big man, bigger than Mr Kravitz, who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win. He had bigger muscles even than Mr Thud, the orderly who dragged off the kids who got way too rowdy.
Angus was clinging tight to Mr Kravitz’s leg and willing himself not to hide.
The giant sat down on the ground and gentled his voice. One hand was on the dog and the other was on his knee. “Hey, little buddy,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared, and I promise I won’t hurt you. My name’s Magnus Burnsides, and I work with Taako from time to time.”
Angus slackened his grip on Mr Kravitz, who was gently patting Angus’ hair and shoulders. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “That’s the biggest dog I ever saw…”
Mr Burnsides didn’t say anything like, “He’s just a puppy,” or, “He’s just a big softie.” What he did say was, “Yeah, I guess he might be. He’s bigger than you, I saw that. But he’s a good dog, and you can come pet him if you want to.”
Angus shook his head.
“Do you want to see the smallest dog ever?” asked Mr Burnsides.
Nod.
Mr Burnsides reached into a bag he had slung over one shoulder and opened his palm to reveal a ball of fluff that opened beady eyes and yawned. “This is Mitzy. She’s a Pomeranian, and she’s also a puppy. I’m in the middle of being her mom, so she sleeps in the bag to stay warm. In fact, it’s almost time to give her a bottle of milk. Would you like to help?”
Nod.
In ten minutes, he was helping bottle feed the tiniest and fluffiest puppy in the world, and running a careful hand gently along the cloud of her fur. She was softer than the cats that shared this house with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz. And Angus had almost forgotten about being afraid of either Mr Burnsides or Johann, who was leaning his head on Angus’ knee and trying to look pitiful for the hope of sausage.
Mitzy, once she was done having her bottle, had to go back into the bag so she could sleep and grow. Mr Burnsides had a Rock of Heat in there, all wrapped up in a hand-knitted cosy so that Mitzy wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.
There were lots of people by the time Mitzy had to go back to the bed in the bag. Most of them were grownups and most of them were very pointedly leaving Angus to his own devices. Not in a mean way, like the people in the orphanage who had too much to do and never enough time. This was…
This was the older Human woman in the blue robes who, between this or that sentence, looked over at Angus to make sure he was okay.
This was the Gnome, his grey hair barely restrained in a series of ties and braids, casually passing by now and again with a look of concern on his face.
This was the older Human man with the dad bod, the glasses, and the mullet; sending covert hand signals to Mr Burnsides that weren’t that covert but still checking that all was well.
This was the old Dwarf restraining his rambunctious, loud, and enthusiastic son with friendly wrestling and tickles, while his daughter attempted to lecture the boy about how he should learn to be careful with ‘fragile people’.
This was Mr Taako asking permission to pick him up and introduce him to everyone.
This was Ms Lup kissing his forehead as she embraced them both in her arms.
This was Mr Kravitz rubbing his back as he smooched Mr Taako.
This was Ms Carey and Ms Killian asking to hold him and ruffling his hair and saying how jealous they were that they didn’t get Angus first and insisting that they were now his Aunts despite obviously not being related to anyone else here.
This was people caring for each other.
Once upon a time there was a little boy who gave up. He learned fast, and what he learned was that the people around him were too busy to care. They took care of him, that was true, but they did so in a mechanical and functional way. He had food to eat. He was clean. He had clothes and shelter and a place to sleep. But he had no choices, no options, and not a scrap of sympathy. He learned to hide in plain sight. Be unimportant. And though the bullies and the nasty people were still nasty, they sort of gave up too. And the people who took kids to new homes took the babies, and they took the kids who performed well for the visits. They never looked at Angus. Until one did.
Mr Bluejeans was married to Ms Lup. A fact Angus found out as he was watching Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz slow dance to music that only they could hear. Mr Bluejeans was soft and warm and a little awkward, and the most important thing was he was honest.
“You’re lucky Taako found you before Lup did, I think,” he said, apropos of nothing. “Lup’s… I love her, I married her, I became a lich with her, but…”
“She’s bright and loud,” said Angus, and flinched a little.
But Mr Bluejeans laughed. “Yeah. She’s bright and loud and she doesn’t use her middle gears a lot. She’d have scared you, during those first few weeks.”
A little bolder, Angus said, “Everything scared me during those first few weeks.”
Captain Davenport, sitting nearby, said, “You’re allowed to talk about it. If you want to.”
Angus spoke about the first handful of days when Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz learned not to come in to Angus’ space without some form of warning. How they would hum and sing and talk to themselves as they moved around the house so that Angus would know that they weren’t sneaking up on him. He spoke of how they were careful to have his permission to touch him, and how they learned so hard what was right for Angus. And how Taako offered to cook Angus’ favourite and the little boy had cried because he hadn’t known what his favourite food was. And most importantly of all, how he didn’t know at all why two people that in love, and that helpful, and that careful could want an invisible kid like Angus.
“He didn’t tell you?” said his Auntie Lup. “We used to be invisible kids, once. We made a career out of it.”
Once upon a time there were two kids who only had each other. They were too old to be cute and too young to be that alone. They didn’t have an orphanage and learned to rely on the kindness of strangers. Which wasn’t all that reliable. They learned fast and hard to be friendly and useful and very, very careful around angry people. They learned that the world was harsh and cruel and so many were out to get them simply because they were invisible kids. They worked when they should be playing. They starved when they should be eating. They huddled together for warmth when they should have had shelter and a bed and even someone who took care of them. The one called Lup grew a hard shell and lost her middle gears and fought the world. The one called Taako learned to wheedle and bargain and negotiate and lie his way around all their problems. They knew what being invisible was like.
The biggest shock of the evening was that Angus was taller than Mookie. The rambunctious Dwarven boy was only up to Angus’ shoulders, but he filled the space around him with an aura of indomitable glee for life, the world, and anything in it he could wrestle with. But Mookie also saw the fading bruises from the last people to mishandle Angus ever and he actually quieted down.
“People used t’ hurt’cha. Didn’t they?”
Angus pulled the long sleeves back down and didn’t look at anything.
“It’s okay,” said Mookie in the closest thing he had to a whisper. Which was just a little bit softer than his usual shout. “When ya wanna… Magnus an’ Carey an’ Killian an’ me can show you how to beat up people like that so they never hurt’cha again.”
It was the first time Angus had ever heard a kid refer to adults by their given names.
This was people saying, You are not alone. In every way they knew how.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy who gave up… And he was found by someone who had been a little boy who once had nothing but one special sister. Together, with all his friends, they all made a family…
It was a special day, so it was extra long. Mookie wore himself out wrestling Uncle Magnus’ dogs, Uncle Magnus, and Carey and Killian. And now he was curled up with the dozy dogs in a corner that promised to be out of the weather.
Mavis had curled up with a book in one of the cotes tucked in random places in this house.
All the adults were seated in a different one, all in a big circle. They were drinking wine and talking across purposes and laughing together and Angus leaned against Taako while Kravitz draped an arm around his shoulders. Every now and again, one or the other would lean over and they would kiss.
Angus had never stayed up before, and he felt safe enough to deny being tired. Despite blinking for very, very, very long times. Until he had one blink between that night and the next morning.
He woke up in someone’s arms. He woke up to the sound of purring. Purring that came from Taako and at least three of the household cats, who were arranged on both him and Taako and somehow most of the gigantic cote they were still in. There was a fluffy blanket over them both.
Angus felt a moment of panic because he was no longer wearing his glasses, but the instant he moved, he felt them under his pillow.
Kravitz was singing an early morning singing song that contained a lot of ‘la’s and ‘low’s and sounded happy.
Angus cleaned his glasses on his shirttails and attempted to wriggle free of Taako, who mumbled an incomprehensible complaint and gripped a little tighter. All unthinking, he said, “Papa, let me up? I need to go pee.”
Taako said, “Mrmblmrf,” but let him go.
Angus found his shoes in the cote, but didn’t know how to do the laces without Kravitz’s help, so he picked them up and attempted to tippy-toe at least to the nearest bathroom.
This old house had once belonged to Taako’s grandfather. Some bathrooms had been modernised but most of them were still old-style garderobes that were a simple pit that lead down to the shaped tree’s roots. This, thankfully, was one with a proper porcelain throne in there.
Angus was rightfully scared of the garderobes.
As he emerged to solve the problem of where to wash his hands, Kravitz spotted him and switched to speaking. “Good morning, starshine. I’ve made some scrambled eggs. You hungry for that?”
“Yes please,” he said. “But I gotta wash my hands. Where–?”
“I’ll let you use the kitchen sink,” he nodded towards it. “Remember the soap.”
In a house where every room that had water also had at least fifteen different kinds of soap? Hard to forget. Angus picked the one that smelled like limes and lathered extensively.
Kravitz helped him dry off and assisted in sitting him on one of the tall kitchen stools.
The eggs were big and fluffy and perfect, and though Angus could choose between a dazzling array of condiments, he stuck with salt. At least for today.
And all unthinking, Angus said, “Thanks, Dad.”
Taako came stumbling into the room. Yesterday’s sparkling clothes all rumpled and his golden hair askew. “I had a wonderful dream,” he yawned. “That our beautiful little boy called me ‘Papa’.”
The way he said that made Angus brave enough to say, “I did call you ‘papa’. Is… that okay?”
Taako wrapped him up in a hug. Smooched his cheek. “Darling, it’s the absolute best.”
Angus ate his eggs and watched as his parents devolved from cleaning the kitchen to slow-dancing to music only they could hear. Everyone else had gone to their respective homes, but Angus knew they would be back. All at once or one at a time, they would be back.
He had a family, now.
DungeonTale is a medieval fantasy AU of that awesome game that’s Undertale by Toby Fox.
It all started with “I want to draw Asriel and Chara with an armor” then it evolved into a project with all the characters already redesigned (I’ll post them as long I make prettier and more detailed sketches like these ones) and an alternative plot that I’m still writing, whatever
While I try to write (and translate) everything down, let me share with you some facts and the guidelines of this story.
Character Designs
[Frisk and Toriel] ♥ [Chara and Asriel] ♥ [Sans and Papyrus] ♥ [Undyne, Alphys and Mettaton] ♥ coming soon -> [Asgore and Gaster][DungeonTale tag] ♥ [Official AU Blog]
Plot and characters’ insights are under the cut!
Sans and Papyrus, ready to report!
It took me longer than usual to complete these two, but I admit that I like the result.
I tried to make their design a bit cleaner and simpler than how I had represented them in the rough sketches.Obviously I updated their bios on the characters’page of the blog, so if you want to know more of their role in this AU, go here!
Final Character Designs
[Frisk and Toriel] ♥ [Chara and Asriel] ♥ [Sans and Papyrus] ♥ [Undyne, Alphys and Mettaton] ♥ coming soon -> [Asgore and Gaster]
MTT, Undyne and Alphys! (and that little shadow of Gaster)
As I said on the blog, I took me far too much time to complete all of them, again. Medieval armors are VERY hard and let’s not talk about Alphys’s anatomy, I had to redesign her clothes at least four times before finding a satisfactory result.
Mettaton was the easiest, had clear ideas about him from the start.
(I swear that the liquid behind Alphys isn’t neither coffee nor chocolate! It’s Gaster!)
As for their backgrounds, I have a lot of material to be translated, I’ll try to add it as you finish it, so keep an eye on the page dedicated to the characters’ bios!Final Character Designs
[Frisk and Toriel] ♥ [Chara and Asriel] ♥ [Sans and Papyrus] ♥ [Undyne, Alphys and Mettaton] ♥ coming soon -> [Asgore and Gaster]
Blanket Monsters and Handplates
If all of my followers have missed that I’m a fan of @zarla-s‘ art, then I apologize for my subtlety.
While they do have an index of all the handplates stuff, it takes some investigative noodling to find all the instances of blanket monsters.
And since those instances are just too firkin cute, I thought I might do a master list. So, in order of the making:
Tails of the Coatmonster (origins!)
Happy family couch fight
Papyrus’ revenge
They’re just like cats
IQ test gone wrong (alt!origins!)
There ya go. Soak in the cuteness.
Here I am with new designs and a lot of lore about this AU!
I had no beta-readers this time, so please, contact me if you find typos!You can find new insights about the plot and the characters under the cut!
Character Designs
[Frisk and Toriel] ♥ [Chara and Asriel] ♥ [Sans and Papyrus] ♥ [Undyne, Alphys and Mettaton] ♥ coming soon -> [Asgore and Gaster]
Bury Me Again
I’ve had a sadfic AU in my head since… yikes… about this time last year. And in a sort of mental spring cleaning, I had to write it.
@spooky-robot - This time I make you cry first. Nya-hahahaha…