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just-a-fangirl13 · 3 years

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Thoughts & Theories about MacGyver 5x10 [MacRiley]

HOLY SHIT!

This episode was absolutely INSANE. Im writing out my thoughts once and for all because I need to stop thinking about everything that happened (I highly doubt I will be able to but here's to trying)

SPOILERS FOR 5x10 OFCOURSE

Straight off the bat, I was screaming *internally* and yelling at Mac when he showed the diamond to Bozer. I suspected it yesterday when we got the snippet of Murdoc saying the words DIAMOND and RING with extra emphasis..(everyone on twitter said I was jumping to conclusions.. I thought so too honestly) But damn I did NOT expect them to actually do that!

Now here's why I am not mad about it anymore. [this is my interpretation you are free to disagree]

Firstly, when Mac told Bozer he was going to propose he didnt say I’m doing it because I love Desi or I want to spend the rest of our lives together or because she’s the one (doesn't mean he doesnt care for her ofcourse)

He said “Ever since I lost my dad & Jack, I have been thinking about the bigger picture and a commitment to make things work is exactly what Desi and I need right now. A grand romantic gesture.” He wanted to propose for stability so he could finally be on the same page with her. They never really defined their relationship before and this was a way for Mac to final bring it together. A grand romantic gesture is usually something people use to win their partners back which is what Mac was trying to do I guess. It almost sounds like he has to do it so he doesn't lose her again

(ill get to my second reason in the end)

Then ofcourse Bozer tells Riley about it so she can be prepared. Bozer is such a good friend. He is supportive of Mac AND wants to protect Riley. I love him for it! He really is doing everything to be the best friend he can to both of them. (Leannas death was so painful and I just want to hug him but thankfully Riley had that covered.)

Next we get the BIG REVEAL. The moment all of us had been waiting for.

The moment that SHOOK Angus MacGyver and CHANGED EVERYTHING!

Rileys Feelings!

“You want me to say it out loud? Fine. Yes I had feelings for Mac. There I said it. and yeah watching him and Desi together was breaking my heart so I moved out of his house. I should have said something to him a long time ago but I didn’t and now its over. ”

I had the opposite of a HEART ATTACK! (my heart rate was through THE ROOF!)

I have to say they really really outdid themselves on this reveal.

SIDE NOTE: If anyone comes for Riley and tries to call her a slut or a home wrecker? You will have me to deal with. Even after Murdoc played the clip of her confession she still tried to deny it and brush it off so it wouldn't complicate things for Mac and Desi. If Riley had wanted, she could have easily told Mac this to his face while he was dating Desi and then let things happen from there but she DIDNT. She kept that secret buried so deep she herself was in denial.

(also if anyone calls Mac a player or anything like that.. I will end you. He is doing his best to deal with everything that has happened to him and people keep giving him shit for it....)

Anyways, we see Mac’s expression & he is just confused and shocked and clearly not trying to think about it because it changed EVERYTHING for him.

[Murdoc saying I THINK IM ON TEAM RILEY was a HUGE HIGHLIGHT for me! I love him so damn much!]

Desi took it really well too actually. If they keep going down this road of growth and maturity for her I think I could actually like her again. (Russ too when he apologised to Bozer)

She didnt throw a hissy fit or say I knew it or look at Riley like she was the villain. She focused on the mission & I respect her for that.

(Riley does say, “the next thing you are going to hear on that recording-” and then gets cut off by Desi.. If this will come into play at some point later on or if it was just her trying to explain herself, remains to be seen.)

Then after the climax, we finally hear Riley say the words to Mac in real time and we get our FIRST MacRiley hug of the season!

At this point I thought they would agree to be friends and make the friendzone thing clear BUT NOPE. (you have no idea how happy I am about it not going down like that!)

I was also a puddle on the floor. SO

“Mac look-”

“You don’t have to say anything if you dont want to. Really.”

“I want to. Last year in Germany. I realised I was starting to have feelings for you. Real feelings. I didnt want to make anything weird between you and Desi. I didnt want to mess up our work or our friendship so I decided to bury it. Until the feelings passed.”

“Emotions aren’t a science. You can’t control them.”

Gosh they are so perfect together! The way they look at each other and the HUG! OH MY GOD THE HUG! Its just perfection.

Now we also see this from Desi’s POV. Again no anger or jealousy from her. I think it was an understanding. She realised that she and Mac were never going to work.. maybe a little pain but honestly everything that went down with her and Mac was her fault too. The lack of trust and understanding was always a problem for them. Sure, things were going well but she didnt seem like she was ready for a commitment if im being honest. If Mac had proposed I think Desi would have said no.(again nothing wrong with that)

She didnt want to label their relationship..they haven't said the words I love you to each other and I dont think they even live together. It really was way too sudden.(these are just things im assuming people define how well a relationship is going by.. I have no experience.)

Then ofcourse we have what im calling the goodbye scene. Its the break up before the break up in my opinion.

Desi tells Mac that they should pretend the last 24 hours never happened (that might actually include Mac wanting to propose but make of it what you will..) and that they should have a clean slate. But its very clear from Mac’s face and Desi sees it too that he isnt 100% onboard with it. He cant forget about it.

Which is when Desi says “Look Mac just do whatever you feel is right” and Mac looks confused.

She then gives him a goodbye kiss.

Look if you have ever watched any show/movie before where the characters are saying goodbye to each other or breaking each others hearts...THERE IS ALWAYS A KISS ON THE CHEEK. A final farewell of sorts.

That is what it seemed like to me. It was Desi telling Mac to do what he has to. Even if it inevitably leads to their break up.

Again real emotional maturity from Desi here!

Then we get the scene, Monica Macer (the show runner) tweeted about back in December.

Mac knocking on someones door. If im being honest? I thought it was Desi’s place and he was going to propose...

BUT it turned out to be Riley’s.

Mac clearly hasn't stopped thinking about what happened. I wouldnt either if my best friend who has put her life on the line for me and trusts me 100%, now has feelings for me? That would turn my world upside down too.

especially if I had feelings for her that I buried so deep that I never acknowledged them.

Also this is my scenario for how their first kiss goes down just FYI.. (Mac showing up at Rileys doorstep and finally confessing his feelings and kissing her *probably won't happen that way now though, but I still love it*)

Mac hesitates for a second before finally knocking on her door.

“Mac? Everything okay?”

“I can’t pretend like the last 24 hours didnt just happen. They did. So I gotta ask. Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“Hiding your emotions and letting it pass. Did they go away?”

and I proceeded to pass out. My brain just checked out...

Now initially in all my freaking out I thought Mac was asking Riley about his feelings. If HE buried them deep enough would he still be able to move on with Desi but then I rewatched it and I realised he was asking RILEY if her feelings were still there, if there was still a possibility of something ever happening.

She never told him its all good now! my feelings are gone and it was a long time ago. She told him she buried it but he needed to know if a future with Riley was something tangible.

BASICALLY ANGUS MACGYVER ASKED RILEY DAVIS IF SHE WAS STILL IN LOVE WITH HIM. *I think I need to go to a hospital now*

So this was my second reason for not being annoyed about the proposal. The writers used it to show what a huge impact it would have on Mac. How much Rileys feelings would actually mean to him. the GAME CHANGER it would be.

A friend of mine said it was kinda funny and a little jarring but I liked it. (I could have done without the proposal) But I understand why they did it. They couldnt have Mac and Desi break up the same day Riley’s feelings came out because then people would hate Mac. They had to make him want to take the next step with Desi but then drop a bomb on him, that would make him question everything.

Again this is what I took away from it.

BUT GOSH WAS THIS EPISODE AMAZING!

I do get that some people are not happy with this and some said it was too sudden *not like we’ve been waiting since season 1 or anything* but I think after 5x11 things will slow down again. Mac may break up with Desi only at the end of the season when he finally comes to terms with his feelings. (Some people are still cautious and I get it but after everything that just happened I find it hard to believe that Mac and Riley won't end up together after all.. not to mention the leaked script conversation between Mac and Riley from 5x15)

Now I dont know how the final scene ends.. they definitely dont get called away for their solo mission immediately after because Mac’s cheek injury is relatively healed in this stills, which means Riley does answer Mac’s question. She may try to avoid it or deflect but he is standing right there so...who knows.

Next weeks episode is a MacRIley solo mission and lets just say things definitely are heating up a bit..*wink wink*

YUP IM HYPED.

BRING ON THE SEXUAL TENSION AND THE ANGST!

#MacGyver #Angus MacGyver #riley davis #macriley #mac x riley #macriley is endgame #macgyver 510 #murdoc

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taizi · 4 years

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it’s a better place since you came along

the adventure zone taako & angus mcdonald 7k words

read on ao3

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

***

In which Taako answers a general “help wanted” ad that actually changes his entire stupid life.

There’s a baby crying somewhere.

Taako, left waiting in the foyer by a harried maid, has nothing else to do but tap a foot, twist one of the rings on one of his fingers, and count the long seconds that the plaintive wail continues to echo through the cavernous house.

Listen, he may not be a very good dude, just in general, and for a healthy plethora of reasons—but there’s a prickling sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, as one minute passes into two, and the sounds of distress go unheeded.

What in the fresh fuck, he thinks, when another member of the house staff drifts through the room without any sense of urgency. If he knew shit about magic beyond a few travel-handy tricks and the occasional intuitive transmutation, he’d assume this was some sort of elaborate illusion. Maybe a sort of test played on unsuspecting hopefuls who came to answer the help-wanted ad.

Unfortunately for Taako, he remembers all-too well what it feels like to be an unwanted child, outcast and always alone. As it turns out, he has a very particular Achilles’ heel and he’s not overly thrilled to discover it.

“Well, I didn’t need the job that bad,” he tells himself, as he gets up to single-mindedly fail this stupid test. And nevermind that he kind of really did.

‘Confidence is key’ and ‘fake it till you make it’ are two mantras that Taako could live and die by, so it’s with long, unchecked strides that he crosses the grand foyer and chases the miserable cries up some stairs, down a long corridor, and finally into an out-of-the-way bedchamber at what must have been the back of the house.

The cries stutter when the door clicks open, and Taako gets a glimpse of a tiny round face peering at him through the bars of an ancient-looking crib. The sudden appearance of this strange elf in his nursery seems to have surprised the little human, but not for long. After about two seconds, he screws his face up and screams with renewed vindication.

Taako winces, his sensitive ears twitching back at the onslaught. This is way above his paygrade, but he used to babysit younger kids in the caravans while their parents were busy or drunk, in exchange for a hot meal or a few coins. He’s not totally out of his depth here.

“Hey, little man,” he says by way of hello. “Trying to bring the roof down, huh? No, I dig that. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but this house of yours is ugly as hell.”

Taako doesn’t raise his voice, because what the hell would be the point? There’s no way he’s winning that contest of wills, and nobody wants some lunatic shouting at them when they’re this fucking distraught, anyway. He just crosses his arms on the side of the crib and leans down to get a good look at the kid.

The baby’s face is tacky and snotty, dusky skin flushed darker with exertion, curly hair a tangled mop. But he’s a cute little guy despite himself, probably a year old or thereabouts, not that Taako is in any way a decent judge of that sort of thing. As Taako talks to him in a conversational tone, his awful, heaving sobs peter out.

The tearful gulps are better. The way he lifts pudgy arms up to be held, not so much.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taako says, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I’m not even supposed to be in here. You have no idea how culturally insensitive people are when it comes to elves and babies. Your mama walks in and sees me holding you, and then she’s calling the guard, and I’m getting hauled off for attempting to spirit her little heir away, and we both perpetuate an archaic myth that all elves are equally capable of and greedy for voluntary childcare. Let me just say—from personal experience—that is not the fuckin' case.”

But he reaches a hand into the crib and lets the little human clutch at it. Tiny, clumsy fingers wrap around Taako’s much bigger ones and hold tight. The baby’s eyes are wide and curious now, soaking up Taako’s every word without a damn clue what any of them mean.

Taako almost forgot he knew how to do this. It’s been months since Glamour Springs, since Sazed ditched him on the road. Taako’s been living a half-life, made up of odd jobs and never staying for too long in any one place, and for all that it’s absurdly one-sided, this is the longest conversation he’s had since then, too.

“One of us is pretty fucking pathetic,” he confides. “And it’s not the screamy baby.”

“Ah, this is where you’ve gone,” a voice from the doorway says.

Taako jumps in alarm, and looks around in time to watch a man step into the nursery. He bears a striking resemblance to the baby in the crib, though he’s graying at the temples and his face is lined with too much age for him to be an immediate parent. Grandparent, probably. Distinguished, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than the entire cumulative worth of everything Taako currently owns, leaning heavily on a walking cane.

He doesn’t look as though he’s about to ring the alarm, but Taako is still a little keyed up. Given the way he’s been living, the feeling of getting caught, even for a moment, activates his fight or flight response.

“Sorry,” Taako says lamely. “I heard him crying.”

“I don’t doubt it. His parents, my daughter and her husband, died recently. An accident on the road,” the man says. There’s some sorrow there, but it’s pushed back and away. Compartmentalized. “He came to live with me, but the transition hasn’t been an easy one. It seems as though all he’s done is cry.”

Taako doesn’t melt even slightly for the poor kid, because he’s made of sterner stuff than that. But he does let him hold onto his hand for a little while longer. It’s not hurting anything.

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

It wasn’t a nanny ad. It was just a ‘general help wanted in exchange for room and board’ type of deal. He wouldn’t have shown up to take the job in the first place if it had specified providing 1) cooking, 2) companionship, or 3) childcare, and that’s for damn sure. He believes in playing to his strengths, and while vapid charm is certainly one of them, being personable and likable for any extended period of time is not.

And Taako absolutely doesn’t know what to think of this old rich guy who seems to be operating under the illusion that thirty seconds is plenty of time to get enough of a read on some rando to then trust your child to them. For real, and from the bottom of Taako's heart, what the fuck?

He’s only been acquainted with this particular child for about five minutes, but his ears go back and his hackles go up at the idea of someone just walking in off the street to take charge of him.

Maybe there’s some crucial insanity element to parenthood that Taako just isn’t fucking picking up. Maybe total and complete willingness to just ditch your kid at a moment’s notice is part of the package. Sure would explain a few things about Taako’s childhood.

But… this old manor house is clearly in the middle of nowhere. Two hours from the nearest settlement, where the job posting was hiding beneath other flyers on the board in the square. Taako wandered the woods all afternoon and almost gave up finding the place before the chimney smoke tipped him off.

It’s remote. Safe. And, at a glance, more comfortable than any of the inns and caravans Taako has lived out of since his auntie died.

He’s not qualified for this position, but since when has that ever stopped him? It’s not like he went to culinary school, either, and for awhile he was one of the most famous chefs on the continent. A baby can't be that much work.

Fake it till you make it, he thinks, and then faces the old man with a smile.

“Hell, I’m already here. Might as well start now.”

Aside from Taako, there are three other members of staff on the books, and none of them are full-time. The maids come in every other day to do the cleaning and the laundry and bring in groceries, that sort of thing. The groundskeeper only works the weekends.

They like Mr McDonald well enough, the girls confide in Taako over tea on his first night there, and the pay isn’t bad, but he’s forgetful. Doesn’t think to eat until he feels hunger pains, that sort of thing. Don’t be surprised if you get paid twice some weeks, or not at all others.

“He’s just not interested in running a household, I think,” the older of the two imparts, ancient at seventeen for all the weariness in her eyes. “I’m glad he finally found someone to take care of the baby. I felt bad about him crying all the time.”

Baby Angus had seemed to surprise both teens by being agreeable and downright adorable, perfectly content to be tucked into the crook of Taako’s arm and soothed to sleep by the rumble of his voice.

Did any of you try, like, holding him? Taako wants to ask acidly. Seems a little fucked up that Taako, of all people, is more on top of this than anyone else. But the maids are little more than kids themselves, and it seems as though grandpa isn’t completely with it.

About a month after Taako first wandered in, grandpa proves it.

“It was before Angus was born,” Mr McDonald says, digging through the many drawers in his study, looking for some expensive rich person thing he’d acquired at auction four years ago. There’s an empty crystal tumbler sitting on the liquor cabinet, next to a half-empty decanter of whiskey. “We went to Goldcliff for a charity fundraiser. Marquis proposed to my daughter that night. You remember, Taako?”

Taako, halfheartedly poking through stuff on the desk while Angus chews on the end of his braid, replies, “Sure do, homie. Hell of a party.”

He finds a photo in a stack of letters and pauses. Two humans are pictured with their arms around each other, handsome smiles on their faces for the camera, a baby cradled tenderly between them.

At the bottom, in looping handwriting, someone wrote ‘Marquis, Angela, and Angus.’ There’s a little heart drawn under the names with such care that it, in itself, is something of a revelation.

Angus’ parents wouldn’t have let him cry himself sick in a faraway room. They wouldn’t have let some stranger be holding him now. They abandoned him, but not on purpose. Not the same way Taako’s family did.

This kid was loved. He’s due love. And all he has is an absent grandpa and a shitty elf looking after him.

“Check it out, Ango,” Taako says quietly, holding the photo up so the baby can see, carefully out of reach of those sticky fingers. “Your genes are killer. You’re gonna outshine the whole damn world.”

He pockets the photo with a sleight of hand he perfected at ten years old, and then guts some ugly painting in the service hallway in the name of repurposing the frame, and then he and Angus stage a tactical retreat.

The nursery was too depressing, just in general, so one of Taako’s first acts as nanny was to move all the baby stuff in with his. He had his pick of any of the second floor bedchambers, and he chose one overlooking the overgrown gardens, with a pretty bay window that it only took like two hours and a handful of stubborn Prestidigitations to scrub clean.

He enlarges the photo, slides it into the frame, transmutes it to look like a more professional job, and then sets it in place of pride on one of the empty shelves.

“Gang’s all here,” he says. He bounces Angus a few times, eliciting a toothy smile from the kid.

Lordy, Taako thinks, she’d be laughing her ass off if she could see me right now.

The thought comes out of absolutely nowhere and disappears just as quickly, sliding right out of his mind like water through a sieve. Then Angus makes a sudden dive to grab one of the charms hanging off the brim of Taako’s hat, and he has more immediate things to worry about.

Living in a house is weird. Having the run of the place is even weirder.

Taako is certainly not the type to sign up for extra responsibility, and he’d be the first to say as much to literally anyone who asked. Keeping himself alive has always been trouble enough, and now he has a whole ass extra person he’s in charge of, too.

But as time drags on, he realizes he’s been pretty solidly assimilated.

When McDonald forgets to give Catherine the grocery allowance before he fucks off on one of his bi-monthly business trips to Neverwinter, Taako forks over his own gold without feeling the sting of it too badly. He practically writes his own checks around here, anyway. He can make up the difference whenever.

When crotchety old Boniface came in from the gardens looking for an answer about the freshly broken fountain, he bypasses McDonald’s closed office door entirely to demand guidance out of Taako instead. Taako is in the library, laying on his stomach to supervise Angus’ painstaking and artistic destruction of a probably priceless but unfortunately racist oral history Taako found on one of the shelves, and gives Boniface the go-ahead to gut the old eyesore.

“If it dies, it dies,” Taako says plainly, passing Angus a new red crayon. Boniface, pleased that he’s allowed to demolish something, makes it a point to ask Taako about these things first from then on.

When Ezra shows up in Taako’s suite one morning with tearful eyes and an ugly burn from the temperamental furnace in the basement, neither of them stop to question why she ran all the way up here. They’re both reasonably intelligent people, after all, and Taako is quick to cast a nonverbal Helping Hand. He doesn’t need to overthink it. The burned skin on Ezra’s arm is shiny and red, but repaired.

The girl surges forward to hug him, visibly rethinks it, and then changes course and scoops Angus up for a hug and a noisy kiss on the cheek instead. Angus shrieks in bald delight, and Taako finds himself smiling.

So, yeah. It’s weird, the whole thing is weird, but he wouldn’t say it’s bad.

McDonald is a kind but largely absent presence in their lives. When he’s home, he’s shut up in his study. Angus hardly seems to recognize the man anymore, only watching him with solemn brown eyes from the comforting circle of Taako’s arms. It doesn’t really sit well with Taako—he didn’t take this job to upstage any relatives or be a replacement parent—but he’s already nanny to a precocious two-year-old, he can’t also be nanny to a seventy-something-year-old retired scholar. If McDonald wants to be a part of Angus’ life, that’s on him. It can’t possibly fall on Taako’s shoulders.

“And even if it did, I have a bad back,” Taako informs Angus. “You’ll have to do the heavy-lifting for me, sweetpea. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, Taako,” Angus says gravely. If there’s a tiny part of Taako that’s fucking delighted every time this tiny miracle says his name, he squashes it down good and hard and no one is the wiser.

It feels a little bit like nothing exists outside this spacious manor house. The extensive grounds might as well be a magic barrier between Taako and the rest of the world. It won’t last—nothing good ever does—but for now he allows himself to pretend that it will.

Taako and his little shadow swing into the kitchen around noon one day to find Catherine in tears.

This is so far from the norm that Taako actually draws up short in the doorway. Angus toddles right into the back of his leg, loses his balance, and plops down hard on his padded bottom.

“What’s this all about, darling?” Taako asks warily.

Catherine is sharp in all the places Ezra is soft, and while it makes her much easier to understand—a girl after Taako’s own black, shriveled heart—it also makes her approximately one million times more difficult to comfort, as likely to bite at a helping hand as accept one.

At the first sign of her vicious temper, he’s gonna grab his kid and bail. There’s fruit and bread in the larder that’ll see them through to dinner, and if not, he's not above bribing Ezra to run interference.

But Catherine just lifts her head out of her hands and says, “I burnt the stupid soup!”

Taako blinks. He stands still so Angus can use one of his legs as leverage to pull himself back upright, and cups the back of the boy's head in silent praise when he manages it on his own.

“Okay,” Taako says slowly. He can piece this shit together. “The soup is burnt. And you’re cheesed about it because…you feel really strongly about soup.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snaps, but it’s without any real heat. “I just. I can’t get anything right today.”

Ah. Okay. So it’s one of those.

He hesitates for a moment, and then leans down to scoop Angus up and balances him on a hip. Angus knows not to toddle into the kitchen unsupervised, and rarely gets to toddle in at all when there’s cookery going on.

Taako himself rarely goes in. It feels too much like tempting fate. But his feet carry him forward, and he leans over the pot of thick and creamy chicken and dumplings, and right away he can smell the problem. It caught on the bottom of the pot and scorched.

He’s never worked in this kitchen—and he never will—but he remembers the steps. It’s mise en place. He reaches into the spice cabinet and withdraws a small tin shaker.

“Cinnamon,” he says at length, offering the tin to Catherine.

She stares at him, losing some of her steel for a moment. “Really?”

“Really,” Taako says, and firmly steps back. The six-second exchange has left him feeling tense and sick, his appetite fully and completely fucking out of the picture.

Angus is a perceptive little monster, and settles more heavily into Taako’s arms. He heaves a very pointed sigh, something he started doing to communicate that he’s feeling particularly safe and content. It makes Taako’s chest hurt in a much different way than impending panic attacks tend to, and he presses a kiss to the kid’s curly head.

“Thanks, angel,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Holy shit, Taako,” Catherine says, looking up from the soup with awe in her eyes. As he watches, she tries another spoonful, and then she actually laughs out loud. “It worked!”

He finds himself searching her face for—sickness. Shortness of breath. Something.

It’s stupid. The people he killed in Glamour Springs didn’t show signs of death for days.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Catherine goes on. “Could you teach me?”

“I don’t,” Taako blurts. It comes out sharper than he meant for it to, sudden and a little bit too loud. Catherine’s smile tapers. Angus lifts his head off Taako’s shoulder. Breathe, idiot, Taako tells himself. Be a fucking person for two seconds. “Cook, I mean. I don’t cook. Or, uh, teach. I’m kind of useless. Pretty, though.”

He flips his hair. It makes Angus giggle, but Catherine isn’t an easily-amused toddler, and she’s not buying it.

Her eyes are sharp, and seem to peel through layers of Taako’s bullshit like a knife. And then she scoffs, and mimics his hair flip with her wrist even though her hair is only about two inches long, and the tension drains out of the room like someone pulled a plug in the floor.

“You’ve been teaching Mango to read,” she says dryly. “And Elvish. And magic. But okay, Mr I Don’t Teach.”

“He’s my fucking protege. That shit’s different!”

“Shit!” Angus agrees cheerfully.

“Whatever. Now that I know you’re secretly a fountain of knowledge, I’m dragging you in here the next time I fuck up a recipe.” She studies him for a moment, and adds, “You don’t have to cook, Teach. If it bothers you. I just…I need help sometimes.

Taako feels himself relenting. This house is turning him into a fucking pushover.

“I know, Cat,” he sighs. “Try to find one person who doesn’t.”

“Alright, little man,” Taako says, tugging Angus’ collar straight. “What are the rules?”

“Hold your hand, don’t talk to strangers, aim for the eyes if I can reach them, knees if I can’t,” his boy recites gravely.

Next to him, Ezra stifles a snort of laughter. Boniface, waiting by the loaded carriage, looks reluctantly amused. Catherine says, “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to give you a kid?”

“Uh, your boss,” Taako says without looking at her. He stands up from his crouch as the front door closes, and they all turn as McDonald comes down the steps to join them in the crumbly courtyard.

“Are we ready, boys?” he asks with a smile. “Neverwinter is waiting.”

Honestly, Taako has been sick with dread over this trip for the past two weeks, but he wouldn’t know how to go about explaining that. And he sure as hell isn’t sending Angus off alone with his absent-minded grandfather. The kid probably wouldn’t make it home.

It’s not as though Taako has been sequestered in the manor house for the last five years. He’s ambled into the settlement with the girls now and then, has gone farther up the road to buy from caravans for Candlenights gifts, has let himself be bullied, cajoled, blackmailed and bribed into helping Boniface lug imported plants home from the train station.

But this is fucking Neverwinter. The Jewel of the North.

“Taako? You okay?” Angus says from somewhere near his elbow.

“Just dreading three hours on the road playing I, Spy with you, boychik,” he lies smoothly. “Go pet the horses so we can get that out of the way.”

Angus looks mulish for a moment, but he does insist on petting the carthorses before they take the carriage literally anywhere, so he lifts his head and crosses the courtyard with great dignity. Taako watches sharply until Boniface rolls his eyes so hard Taako can practically hear it and hefts Agnus up in one huge arm to better reach the giant creatures without running the risk of getting fucking trampled.

“I’m making the salmon at home tonight,” Catherine says abruptly, a non-sequitur that takes Taako by surprise. “If I don’t fuck it up, I’m gonna cook it here, too. So don’t be late, Teach.”

“I’ll a hundred percent eat your share if you’re late,” Ezra adds. Her smile looks a little strained.

Taako has not been subtle. He’s been freaking out right out loud where anybody could see it. Get it together, asshole, he coaches himself helpfully.

“Cat,” he says earnestly, “your salmon is literally the only thing I have to live for.”

She groans and pushes him away from her. Angus has finished with the horses and returns to Taako at a run, even though they’re all going to be walking back across the courtyard to the carriage in like one minute anyway.

McDonald is handing out a few last minute instructions. They’re mostly things that have already been taken care of, errands that have already been run, the ushe. The girls nod along politely, but there’s a level of uncertainty lingering above them like a cloud. They look as nervous about Taako leaving as Taako feels.

Now, Taako is many things—an elf, a failed chef, a murderer, a dime-store wizard, and one lucky nanny—but he is not some mercurial fairy tale creature. He’s not going to vanish from their lives the second they lose sight of him. He could if he wanted to, and he will if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. For now, he doesn’t have to.

So he lifts a hand and says, “Back soon.”

But for some reason, it fucking hurts.

The trip is about everything he expected it would be: long and boring. Angus gets bored with I, Spy within about ten minutes, the interior of the carriage is a little too tight to practice his cantrips, and Boniface seems to be aiming for the roughest parts of the road on purpose. Taako tries reading aloud from one of the Caleb Cleveland books, but McDonald keeps interrupting every time they get to the good, mysterious parts, so Angus and Taako trade a loaded glance and wordlessly agree to save it for later.

Still, it’s not awful. Angus at six years old is bright-eyed and relentlessly clever. He wants to be a detective like Caleb, and has taken to solving little mysteries around the manor house, like who left the jam out on the counter (Taako, and what are you going to do about it, pumpkin?) and who tracked the mud inside the undercroft (Boniface, obviously, that’s where all the booze is, and he literally works in mud all day. You didn’t have to put on your detective cap for that one).

Needless to say, Taako would burn the whole world down for this kid.

With no choice but to spend time in his grandson’s company, Taako can see Angus’ innate charm going to work on McDonald. There’s something wistful in the old man’s eyes, affectionate and more than a little bittersweet. He stops interrupting as Angus starts to describe his latest case in great detail—the mystery of the missing tarts!

The tarts are wrapped up and waiting in Taako’s bag for when they inevitably get snacky during the trip, but he's not going to tell. He kinda wants to see how far the kid takes this one.

By the time they board the train, Angus is tuckered out. The excitement of a trip so far from home is wearing off after hours in a carriage, and Taako ends up carrying him into their sleeper car and putting him to bed in one of the bunks.

McDonald takes a seat at the small table and watches without commentary as Taako extracts the boy’s hat and glasses and wand without waking him, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. And then, out of habit more than anything else, he murmurs the only Elven blessing he remembers, quite literally ‘sweet dreams.’ He remembers Auntie saying it to him, and…someone else, maybe? He remembers that it always made him feel loved to hear it.

“Hiring you was the best thing I could have done for him,” McDonald says suddenly.

Taako turns with a trademark smile on his face, only as charming as it needs to be. “Hiring me was the best thing you ever did, period.”

His boss smiles back, but there’s an edge to it that Taako can’t translate. This is the most present and aware he’s looked in the last five years. Taako isn’t sure he’s ever had this much of McDonald’s attention.

“There’s another reason I wanted to take the two of you with me this week,” he says.

It’s ominous as fuck, and as the train lurches into motion, pulling away from the station, Taako realizes that he’s effectively trapped here, in a way he never was at the manor house. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because McDonald’s smile warms a bit, and he gestures at the other chair.

“It’s a good thing, son. No need to be nervous.”

Taako sits in an irreverent collapsing of limbs to prove that he isn’t nervous, actually. McDonald pulls a bunch of papers out of his briefcase and sets them on the table. They look official as fuck. McDonald’s signature at the bottom draws Taako’s eye—huh, so that’s his first name. After this long, it would have felt a little awkward to ask. Beneath that is the signature and seal of a notary.

“What am I looking at here, Charlie?”

McDonald’s lips twitch. He probably cottoned onto the name thing.

“Well, this isn’t an easy conversation to have, and I probably could have picked a better time for it, but.” He glances over Taako’s shoulder at where Angus is sleeping. “It’s probably better if the boy doesn’t overhear until it’s sorted.”

“I hear ya. That little bugbear is all up in everyone’s business all the time,” Taako says proudly. “Just the worst.”

“He’s amazing,” McDonald says. That sorrow swims into his eyes now, an ancient, ruinous thing. “He reminds me of my daughter every time I look at him.” Oh. “It’s been…hard to look at him sometimes.” Oh.

Taako carefully reevaluates his opinion of Angus’ absent grandfather. Not too much, because the dude still should have been around, but, you know. Some.

Taako tries to imagine losing somebody, how much it must hurt. He tries to imagine looking like somebody, a family resemblance, a belonging at face-value. He’s never experienced either, but there’s still a bitter pit in his throat, a feeling like if he swallows too hard he’ll start to cry. So he sits very still instead.

“But still, he’s my only grandson, and I want him to be taken care of when I’m gone,” the man goes on. “I’m getting on in years, and I probably don’t have much longer left—oh, Taako. It’s alright.”

Taako is certain he didn’t move. He’s still doing the sitting-very-still thing. Then he realizes his ears betrayed him, pressed back flat against his head. Goddamn things.

“No, it’s uh. Taako’s good, don’t. Just.”

It’s the human age thing. He doesn’t want to think about it. He waves McDonald on, a tight rolling gesture. They really need to power through the rest of this conversation while Taako still has enough self-control left to not do something really embarrassing in front of his boss, like have a whole emotion.

McDonald takes pity. Thank fuck.

“It’s normal to want to get your ducks in a row,” he says. “I’m not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon.”

“Alright, let’s organize these ducks,” Taako says with unwarranted enthusiasm. He’s trying to trick himself into it. “Fucking ducks, am I right?”

“Angus is my heir. When he’s of age, he’ll get the estate and everything that goes with it, as well as his parents’ properties,” McDonald says, once again reminding Taako that he’s a rich old fuck. Istus. “But that’s still more than a decade away. If something should happen to me, I don’t want him to end up a ward of the state.”

Taako blinks. In the back of his mind, he realizes that he has become one of those elves that would one-thousand-percent kidnap a human baby if it came down to it. Leave Agnes in an orphanage? His Agnes? It would literally have never occurred to him.

“Custody cases can be so long-winded. The easiest way to circumvent the whole mess would be to adopt you into the family,” McDonald says, super nonchalant about flipping the world upside down. “That way Angus has an immediate next of kin that no one would question.”

He looks up when Taako doesn’t say anything and frowns at whatever Taako’s face must look like.

“You don’t have to use the surname if you don’t want to. It’s mostly just for the sake of paperwork.”

“I can’t,” Taako blurts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t insist that you change your family name if it’s important to you—”

“Not—not that, who gives a fuck about my family name,” Taako says too loudly. Angus shifts around for a second, like he might wake up, and Taako snaps his mouth closed so hard it hurts his teeth. In a whisper, because it’s all he can manage without giving into the urge to scream, Taako forces out, “I—I’m—I can’t.”

In the nightmare scenarios that still sometimes plague him in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep and he’s alone with the voice in his brain that fucking hates him, the choices always boiled down to either leaving Angus behind or taking him on the run. Both choices were fucking awful for a myriad of different reasons, and left Taako pacing his room tirelessly trying to think his way out of an unsolvable problem.

The idea that he could become a legal part of Angus’ family as simply as signing a piece of paper is so far-fetched and ridiculous that he can’t wrap his mind around it.

But bringing all his shit into Angus’ life? Signing up for this only to get snatched away the second the paperwork goes through and the militia finally finds him? Leaving his dirty laundry all over the front yard like the worst fucking house guest imaginable, and then peacing out to spend the rest of his long-ass fucking elf life in jail, while Angus was left to just…deal with that?

He couldn’t. He can’t. Every single option is bad. He shouldn’t have stayed. He should have known he would fall in love with that baby on day one. It’s really fucking stupid that he stayed.

“—aako. Taako.”

Taako jerks his head up. His ears are twitching and his hands are shaking and McDonald has probably been saying his name for awhile.

The man’s eyes are bright and steely. They look exactly like Angus’ do sometimes, when he wakes Taako up from a miserable meditation, when it’s just the two of them in a huge house surrounded by a crumbling garden.

“Tell me,” the man says sternly.

At a fucking complete loss, Taako just…does.

When he’s finished, McDonald looks at him really hard for what feels like a long time. Then he pulls a pair of reading glasses out of an inner pocket of his coat, poises the business end of a fountain pen against a fresh sheet of paper, and starts asking questions.

It’s a business-like, no-nonsense exchange. Taako is wiped out, emotionally he is the equivalent of a damp rag wrung out to dry, and he has no wherewithal left to lie or deny or deflect.

When they’re done, McDonald has filled three notebook pages of blocky handwriting, and Taako is swaying in his seat. He watches somewhat vacantly as McDonald nods to himself and rummages in his briefcase for a stone of farspeech.

“We won’t reach Neverwinter until morning. Get some sleep,” he says, and his voice is kindly again, the way it was before. Taako stares at him. “And don’t tell me elves don’t need it, please. I wasn’t born yesterday, and you nap twice as much as my grandson ever did.”

Well, it would be nice to get one last unnecessary snooze in as a free man, Taako supposes, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb into Angus’ bunk. It’s a familiar ritual. The kid squirms to accommodate him without fully waking. Taako tucks an arm around him and buries his nose in that riot of curly hair.

He hears McDonald say, “You’re not much more than a kid yourself, are you?” but that might have just been part of a dream.

He hears someone else say, “That can’t be broken or lost or taken away, it’s always going to be so important,” but Taako thinks that, whoever that was, they were very clearly wrong.

Taako wakes up to a six-year-old’s warm brown eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners in an urchin sort of way, and it’s the only tell Taako needs. His kid has been up to some mischief.

“Grandpa said you were tired and I should let you sleep,” Angus reports cheerfully. “He also said that there was a nice lady selling flowers a few cars down, and I ought to go buy a few!”

Ah. Taako glances down at the ruin of his hair. It looks like about a hundred snowberry blossoms were worked into the thick flaxen braid. It’s going to be an absolute pain to brush out later. He’ll probably find bits of plant in his hair for days. He loves it.

He risks a glance in McDonald’s direction.

The man looks amused by their whole general existence, which is fair. He also doesn't look like he's about to summon the guard to have Taako hauled into the brig, which is a fucking relief and a half.

“The world changed while you were asleep,” he says significantly. “Would you like to sign the papers now or with your pardon?”

Angus says, all in one breath, “You should sign the papers first! Grandpa says then you’ll be my family! I mean, you already are, so I’m not sure what the point is, but it must be important. Look at how official they are!”

Taako feels about four cups of coffee behind this conversation. He scoots off the bed, spilling into one of the chairs at the table, and folds his hands.

“Charlie. Buddy.”

“I stepped out for two minutes,” McDonald says defensively, “and I thought he was asleep!”

“That’s the oldest trick in the book,” Taako mutters. His heart is doing something really complicated and largely unnecessary, fucking backflipping in his chest, at Angus’ thoughtless ‘you already are.’ Like it was a given. What the fuck. “Can you go back to, uh—the world changing? A pardon? What’s up with that?”

“An old friend of mine is a cleric,” he says pushing a steaming cup in Taako’s direction. “Level nine, or thereabouts. She owed me a favor from when we were in school together, when I—well, that’s not important. What is important is that she was happy to cast Discern Location to find your old stage manager.”

Taako fumbles the cup, almost drops it. He sets it down hard.

“What the fuck? No, hold that thought. Angus, I love you. Get lost.”

He’s really banking on the kid being more stir-crazy than curious, and sure enough, Angus hops right off the bunk and sprints for the door.

“Okay, I’ll be in the dining car! You’re not s’posed to take food back with you, but I’m gonna see how many pastries I can fit in my pockets so you won’t be hungry when you sign the papers that make you my family! Love you, bye!”

“A three-hour carriage ride followed by six hours on a train was the worst fucking idea,” Taako says severely. “He’s gonna be on eleven when we roll up to Neverwinter. They might not let us in.”

“He’s just excited,” the old man says, with the tranquility of someone who isn’t going to have to child-wrangle all day long. “I told him I had good news for you.”

Taako is fidgeting, turning the cup of coffee around and around in his hands. It’s leaving a ring of condensation on the table.

“You found Sazed?” he asks, and hates how small his voice sounds.

“We did.”

“He probably hates me,” Taako mutters. “I ruined his life.”

McDonald takes the cup from him and sets it down on the other side of the table with a firm clunk.

“Pardon my language, but you didn’t ruin crud.” Taako mouths ‘crud’ in bewilderment, but McDonald isn’t finished. “I was suspicious of your story when you described the way those people died. Those aren’t the typical symptoms of deadly nightshade, and I’d never heard of a transmutation spell failing in that way before. So I looked into it. Or, I should say, I had a few friends look into it.”

“Are you in a cult?” Taako asks. He can’t help it. He’s one part genuinely curious and two parts hardwired to deflect any time someone tricks him into having a serious conversation. “We frown on cults in this family. Mysterious shadow organizations are never a good thing, no matter what greater-good shit they’re peddling.”

“I’m very rich and belong to very elite social circles,” McDonald says dryly. He’s unmoved by Taako’s general everything. “This whole thing took about three calls. I wish you would have told me about this five years ago, but I do understand why you didn’t.”

Taako doesn’t have a cup to fuck around with anymore. He stopped wearing jewelry when Angus was a baby and literally everything smaller than an apple was a choking hazard, and he never really got into the habit of it again, so he doesn’t have rings to twist around his fingers, either. He wrings his hands instead.

“If it wasn’t the elderberries,” he chokes out, and doesn’t make it any farther.

“It was arsenic,” McDonald says. His voice is kind again, but not so much so that it’s painful to hear. “Sazed was questioned within a Zone of Truth. He admitted to—okay,” he cuts himself off, putting a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “We’re done talking about it for now. Just take it easy.”

Taako doesn’t uncurl from his chair until the door rattles open and Angus’ voice fills the room. He’s found a dozen things to talk about in the ten minutes he’s been gone, and is very proud of himself for all the contraband pastries he managed to make off with. There’s a cheese danish wrapped very carefully in a napkin, only slightly squished, that he presents to Taako with a showy flourish that he really only could have picked up from too much time around one particular idiot.

Taako accepts the danish, and then hauls Angus up onto his lap, and then says, “Charlie, baby. Pass me that fancy pen.”

For the first time in almost eight years, Taako is cooking for an audience again. His hands are shaking, but as long as everyone else is politely pretending like they don’t notice, he can do himself the same favor.

I fed those people their death, but it wasn’t on me, he recites inwardly for the seven millionth time, a nervous mantra. My magic was good. My cooking was good. I was good. It wasn’t on me.

He looks up from the counter where all his tools are laid out and his ingredients are arranged. Ezra is bouncing in her seat, Boniface is lingering in the doorway like he doesn’t care but he also isn’t leaving, and Catherine’s eyes are wide and moonlike and younger than Taako has ever seen them. Angus has place of pride, a seat on the counter by the sink with the best view in the house.

“Okay,” he says. “What are the rules, pumpkin?”

“No swiping ingredients, no magic in the kitchen, and no taste-testing until you say it’s okay,” Angus rattles off promptly. “Autographs at the end of the show are three gold apiece, photos are ten, and the overall experience is absolutely priceless.”

Over the sweet sound of the rest of his audience groaning at him, Taako goes on blithely, “And what are we cooking today?”

“Macarons!”

“And who’s your dude?” Taako asks, pointing a whisk at him. Angus giggles, and Taako’s hands aren’t shaking anymore.

In a month, Angus is going off to a summer camp out past Rockport. It’s Caleb Cleveland-themed, and the whole thing sounds extremely nerdy and book-cluby, and Angus is desperately excited. He’s also desperately nervous about being away from his family for three whole weeks but he’s trying to keep that on the down-low. He’s very grown up at nearly ten years old.

Taako can respect that. He also bought the kid a stone of farspeech, because actually fuck that.

And while Angus is off having his first away-from-home adventure—since the girls think that Taako’s just going to be useless and mopey the whole time, and Boniface already threatened to bury him in a flowerbed the first time he whines about literally anything—Taako is going to go do something cool, too. There’s always some interesting jobs posted on Craig's List up in Neverwinter. He’ll be able to find something to occupy his time.

But for now, he’s gonna make some goddamn desserts.

“Come on, Ango,” Taako wheedles, “who’s your dude?”

“You, papa.”

I’m good, Taako reminds himself. He looks at his kid, who only deserves the best this piece of shit world has to offer, and thinks, I can be good.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #taako taaco #angus mcdonald #taz fic #my writing #better place #ladies i dunno but i gotta work in like 3 hours and i wrote this instead of sleeping

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lady-plantagenet · 4 years

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What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes:

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them.

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing.

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages.

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’.

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

#the spanish princess #the spanish princess 2 #lady plantagenet's series reviews #catherine of aragon #henry viii #mary tudor queen of france #margaret tudor #charles brandon #margaret pole

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retvenkos · 4 years

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“i can do an exact replica of the mona lisa in latte art.”

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 29

A COFFEE SHOP AU WITH THE ONE AND ONLY JESSE TUCK. HERE WE GO...

so i like to think that jesse works in coffee shops like, 99.99% of the time

because he can’t pass for much older than 21 at all times, so it’s easier to have a job where people think it’s reasonable that he belongs

plus, he really loves spending time with younger people - it makes him feel alive, again

so he works at coffee shops, and he becomes everyone’s mom friend because he has seen the world and wants to protect those who are unaware of it’s dangers

also,,, he’s a really great employee. he just knows so much.

anyway, this coffee shop is either on campus of some university or another or very close nearby

jesse loves the energy of college kids. they have no chill or literally all the chill. they either one of two extremes.

there is no middle ground, only chaos.

but back to the point, he works at a coffee shop frequented by college students, he has unlimited knowledge and wisdom, he makes great coffee...

literally everyone loves jesse

he will help you with your essay! or your math! or anything!

if you need history advice pls go to him, he will give excruciating detail

if you are writing a historical fiction novel or a biography on someone,,,, he is a jackpot on forbidden knowledge

also, everyone knows he’s a cryptid, but all of them are broke college students so literally no one cares.

it’s like,,, everyone just agrees that if jesse tuck is an immortal soul who is basically a body thief,,, there are worse ways to go

jesse laughs at this, but he never denies it....

gotta keep yourself entertained somehow, right?

ANYWAY

while he works at this coffee shop, i can almost guarantee you that either miles, mae, or angus teach at the uni nearby

they have to keep tabs on jesse somehow, right???

if the fbi have ever caught onto the tuck’s immortality, it’s because jesse did something very stupid

so they know to keep him in check, wherever he goes.

and, of course, jesse spends a lot of time with his family when they are close by

so it doesn’t take long before everyone realizes that jesse and this professor are related

and if this were high school, it would be on channel one news, but since it’s college, it’s just rumors and strung out theories on who these two are, and how long they’ve been haunting universities

some people even joke that jesse is some kind of benevolent ghost that just really wants to help people get their higher education

i just really think jesse deserves to be a cryptid

but i guess i should get back to the fundamentals of a coffee shop au

jesse can make literally anything under the sun, and they’re all really good?

miles is a big coffee drinker, and jesse has been making him coffee since 1808,,, he’s had a lot of practice

he is also great at making tea!

he knows exactly how long it needs to steep to achieve maximum flavor, and he is also very particular about which sweeteners go with which tea because it’s a science.

and if you come into the coffee shop as it’s closing, jesse will get you what you need anyway because sleep is for the mortal

and he’ll say that, too

he just loves being useful?

it seems like, with every passing year, he can do less and less in society because he looks so young, despite being so old.

he just wants his existence to actually be something other than constantly travelling alone, constantly learning alone, and constantly living a life alone without it ever meaning anything

please give this man purpose, it’s what he deserves

oh! and if anyone from the coffee shop ever sees jesse outside of work, they are 110% welcome to come and chat with him while he walks his dog

is the dog also immortal? the jury is still out.

he gives the best life advice, he makes the best coffee, he deals textbooks for cheap on the side, and he’s an unlimited source of knowledge

he’s perfect for campus life, you cannot convince me otherwise.

oh, and he also makes it a point to never be seen eating or drinking while in or around the coffee shop, which just makes people go insane

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

#tuck everlasting #tuck everlasting musical #tuck everlasting broadway #tuck everlasting month #tuck month 2020 #jesse tuck #coffee shop au #modern au #fluff #imagine #would include #headcanons #so i know it's reader insert week but i kind of went off on this idea oops

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percontaion-points · 3 years

Text

Firelight chapters 5 & 6

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 5

“I decided I didn’t want to go back to the pride.”

I straighten. “How come I never knew this?”

Her lips twist. “Clearly, I came back. I didn’t need everyone to know that it took a bit of arm-twisting.”

Then I get it. I understand who did the arm-twisting. “Dad,” I say.

Her smile softens. “He never toured, you know. There wasn’t any point. He never wanted to be anything but draki.” Her lips wobble and she touches my cheek. “You’re a lot like him.” Sighing, she drops her hand. “Anyway, he visited me once a month in Oregon…and every time he tried to persuade me to come home with him.” Her smile grows bleak. “He made it very difficult.”

I don't think that this is romantic. I think that this is insanely shitty how this guy refused to take no for an answer and traveled across state lines to go harass her.

Like the narration is painting Cassian's behavior as shitty and unwanted. But when Jacinda's mom is talking about her husband ACTING IN THE SAME FUCKING WAY, it's somehow painted in a romantic light.

“Yeah,” I agree, but even as I walk out into the deserted hallway I stop and scan to the left and right of me, looking, searching. Hoping. Dreading.

But he’s not there.

Chapter 5 summary: They move to the desert, where drakis apparently shrivel up and die after. This was obviously done intentionally so that Jacinda's draki can die. Jacinda hates this, and is starting to resent her mother. Her mom, who confesses that she never wanted to be a draki in the first place.

The girls go to their first day of high school. It's awkward for Jacinda, who probably went to school with kids she's known since they were all first born. As she's talking with Tamra between classes, she randomly sees Will. Because of course he'd be there, this is a freaking supernatural romance. Jacinda has a panic attack and almost transforms. Tamra drags her into the bathroom, where Jacinda has a moment to cool her head. She declines wanting to call their mother, with the thought that if they're going to be miserable in the desert, she might as well have some eye-candy around. But Tamra warns Jacinda to stay away from him. Not because Jacinda told her that Will's a hunter, but because Tamra thinks that her sister is so horny for Will that she'd pop out in draki form in the middle of the hall and blow it for all three of them.

Chapter 6

Wincing, I force myself to stand, crawl back onto my stool. “Yeah.” I can’t hide forever. We’re in the same school. Apparently the same study hall.

I stare straight ahead, at the chalkboard. Anywhere but at him. But it’s impossible. Like forcing my eyes to remain wide-open when biology demands I blink. So I look.

His gaze finds me. He walks toward our table. I hold my breath, wait for him to pass. Only he doesn’t. He stops, the sliding scrape of his shoes on the floor a long scratch down my spine.

This close, I stare into eyes that can’t decide on a color. Green, brown, gold —if I look too hard I get lost, dizzy.

THIS SCENE WAS STOLEN DIRECTLY FROM TWILIGHT. WHAT THE HELL.

One with raven-dark hair shaved close to his head walks ahead of the other. His face is elegant, narrow, and beautiful with dark, liquid eyes.

And here we have the other side of the love triangle.

And he’s gone. Out the door before I can even grab my things or say goodbye.

Chapter 6 summary: Jacinda's last class of the day is a weird study hall, for some reason. And Will is in the class with her, because of course he is. He sits next to her and they make awkward smalltalk. Two boys come in, who introduce themselves as Xander and Angus, and they are Will's cousins. After they go sit somewhere else, Will warns Jacinda to stay away from them. That they're not the kind of boys that a good girl like Jacinda should get involved with. But a moment later, says that it's too late, because they've already noticed her anyway.

#Firelight series #Firelight (Firelight 1)#chapter 05 #chapter 06 #do as i say not as i do #double standards #Jacinda #shitty parents are shitty #Tamrissa Domon #Will (Firelight)#twilight parallels #can we not #UGH JUST UGH

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renee-writer · 3 years

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Outlander Shapeshifters Chapter 16 Her Room

Explicit

He takes her to her door and then stops, awkwardly. “You can come in.” she invites. The blush that covers his face and ears makes them as red as his hair.

“I could not. Your reputation.” He chokes out.

“Jamie, I have slept in your arms every night for the last few weeks.”

“That isn’t the same, at all.”

“Please. I fear being alone.”

He mutters under his breath and she recognizes some of the same words Angus uses so assumes they are curses. “Christ lass, you are a wee brave thing, to ask such.” He swallows and meets her eyes. “I shall. To keep you safe.”

She breathes out in relief and they open the door. The room is small, as expected. Just a bed, small side table with a chamber pot and wash basin, and a fireplace. He bends down to light it. She inspects the bed.

It is a most welcome sight. After three weeks on the road, sleeping on the hard ground. Being wrapped up in Jamie’s arms helps but.. Jamie’s arms. He will have to share the bed with her. He won’t be happy. Standing from seeing the fire started, he looks around. She sees as the same conclusion comes over his face. There is not enough room on the floor for him to lay there. “Christ.” She hears it for the prayer it is.

“We can do this Jamie. It is one night.”

“Aye.” But then she starts to undo her skirts. “What are you..?”

“I wish to be comfortable. I will keep my shift on.” Wide eyes and him crossing himself greet this declaration. “Come Jamie, you thought me just in my shift when we first meet.”

“You wasn’t to sleeping by me then.” He says.

“I promise not to jump you.” She teases.

He smiles but still looks nervous. She knows there is sexual tension between them. But, he seems more nervous then before. She turns away to unlace the stays and then climbs into bed before recalling her shoes. He wasn’t the only nervous one, it seems. She giggles as she sticks her feet out to take them off and he is there, kneeling before her and undoing them.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome, mo ghrá.” He stands, seems to debate, before slipping his belt and kilt off. He lays the weapons within reach and slips in beside her.

“Thank you for this too. I know it is not done. But I feel safer with you by me.”

“Aye. I feel better being by you. You tend to attract the most unwanted attention.” His smile reaches his eyes this time.

“A good way to put it.” She turns on her side, facing him. “A bed. I have so missed one.”

“Aye. We do sleep rough on the road. Sorry.”

“Sleeping in your arms helps.” She confesses. He shudders but draws her in. Dangerous but he can deny her nothing. In honesty, himself the comfort either. Sleep comes easy, at first, with her snuggled against him. Until the dream.

It is the same taunting one as before but, this time, when he wakes with a raging cock stand, she is right there, against him. She has turned in her sleep, and faces away but, her arse is temptingly close. He groans and tries to think unsexy thoughts. But he is throbbing to hard to ignore it. He shouldn’t but he has no choice. He pushes the covers down and takes himself in hand.

She wakes to deep moans coming from him. Thinking him injured, she quickly turns towards him. What she sees stops her in her tracks. He is magnificent, from that incredible cock, to his face, reflecting the passion he is experiencing. His head strains against the pillow, alive with pleasure. Jesus!

He hears her sharp intake of breath and stops, jerking his eyes towards her. Her hands hover, one over her breasts, the other over him. “Ah Dhai! I am so shamed. So sorry. I shouldn’t have. His hand drops from his still, quite erect member. “I have dishonored you. Forgive me.”

“You have done no such thing. You needed release. You still do.”

“It will bide.”

“No, either you finish or I will.” Her hand reaches out and he grabs it.

“Christ woman! You canna!”

“Then you. J will not see you suffering. You were so beautiful in your passion. Please finish.”

He mumbles more Gaelic curses before taken himself in hand. His eyes drift shut as he starts to stroke. She moves closer and lays her hand on his chest. The other lays against her own. She has never felt so needy. “Claire, oh God. Keep touching me like that.” She realizes she is stroking his nipple. Nice. Her eyes move from his face to his moving hand. His hand moves faster as he strokes his testicles. Knowing he is close, her eyes stay on his face so she sees when he finds his release. God, he is stunning.

His breathing slows and he looks to her. “You were stunning.” She tells him. “Thank you “

“An amazing woman are you Claire, to be willing to…”

“Do you want to watch me?” His eyes get huge again. “I really need too…”

“Lord Claire. Yes, I would love to. To know how to give you pleasure, when the time comes.”

“You lovely man.” Her eyes glow as she lifts the edge of her shift up. She sees his eyes drop down to take her in. She opens herself up to his inspection. He shakes with the need to touch her. Seeing, she leads his hand to her chest. “Please, touch me too.” He growls and slips his hand into her shift, finding her nipple, as hard and sharp as his sword. “God yes!”

Her fingers work around her clit as his hungry eyes watch. His fingers play with her nipples driving her to the edge of insanity. She meets his glance as she places her thumb on her clit and starts to stroke. He meets her strokes with his own, moving his hand to hers. “Oh God, Oh God, Jamie!” She cries out as she gets close. Both their breaths get faster. “There!” she screams as she arches under both their hands. The pleasure is exquisite, sharper then she has ever felt.

He moves his hand slowly away, causing pinpoints of pleasure as his fingers move over her. “Claire, you were so, are so beautiful.”

She smiles as she moves her hand sighing against him. He pulls her close. They are quiet for a moment. “Why?”

“Hum, why what?”

“I know we have been fighting this. Doing something about this. Why now?”

“The dreams. I dinna wish to.. but now I see I need to. Ever sense Fort William, I have been dreaming about you. You and I, doing this, well more. But…Unfortunately, not just that. “ he sighs. “no, I am being taunted. By Randall. By the though of him taking you. Taking you ‘afore my very eyes, before we can come together. I ken he dinna nor won’t but, in my dreams..”

“Oh my love, you don’t need to carry that. Not alone. We are a team, you and I. We can share our hopes and fears with each other.”

“I didn’t wish to burden you.”

“You are never a burden. I am here. Rest. He won’t be a bother this night.” They slowly drift back to sleep.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #outlander shapeshifters #her room #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom

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geethedentist · 4 years

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The Sassenach Warrior

Catch up with Chapter 9 here and read this chapter on Ao3!

Chapter 10: Honorary Scot, Official Jacobite

“Claire?”

My first instinct was to blurt, “Shit!” and jolt three feet into the air. So concerned with poking all my bumps and trying to stop the blood from leaking down my face, I had allowed someone to sneak up on me. I still hadn’t turned around. Maybe I had finally gone insane and imagined the voice, God I hoped so.

“Claire it’s almost dawn, what the hell are ye doin’?”

“I … How long have you been standing there?” I had finally turned to face him.

Angus crossed his arms. His boot began tapping on the ground. “Long enough to ken you’ve just done something incredibly sneaky … and I’d wager this isna the first time.” He would have taken on the air of a disappointed parent, had it not been for the confusion and blatant curiosity also present in his expression.

And just like any manipulative schemer would do, I turned it around on him. “What were you doing out before dawn? You all love to accuse me of being shifty, so let’s hear it!”

“Claire, ye ARE being shifty!” He almost shouted at me. “And for yer information I was visiting with Margaret, since we’re leavin’ soon.” His cheeks turned light pink.

Oh yes, his big breasted friend. How horribly anticlimactic and boring. I supposed telling him I went for a walk was not even worth the breath.

“And Christ, what happened to yer face?” Now he mentions my face.

“I um … fell?”

He gave a short laugh and shook his head. “I ken I’m not terribly bright Claire, but ye insult me so. If I ken but one thing about ye, it’s that ye did not maul up yer face because ye fell.”

His eyes fell to the skin just below my elbow and they popped wide open as he quickly grabbed it and shoved my own hand into my face.

“Is that a bite mark?!”

Oh dear. Any chance of lying my way out of this was quickly dissipating, not that I had had a good shot in the first place. They were in fact, teeth marks. Small indentations lined the top and the underside of my arm; they were an angry red color, and quickly becoming tinged with purple. I inspected them more closely. It seemed that my opponent had extremely crooked teeth.

“Um yes, but …”

“Are ye drunk?” He cut me off.

I crossed my arms in defiance. “Well not to brag but I don’t need alcohol to do things that I’ll regret.”

He looked at me long and hard, his hand scratching at something underneath his beard. I had been edging my way towards the door, although I knew I would have to demand his silence somehow.

“Oh no Claire, if ye dinna tell me what ye’ve been doing, I’m going to make sure everyone in this whole tavern knows ye’ve been running late night errands.”

“All right all right!” I said quickly to shut him up. “But nobody knows and it better stay that way.”

“Can I be there when ye tell Dougal and Jamie that ye fell?” He smirked.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance and I jerked him into the stables. Brushing stray hairs out my face, I winced as some of them caught in the mass of curdled blood on my head.

“I’m going to tell them I fell, and you are going to back me up. Got it?” I hissed in his ear. “Now if you insist on knowing where I went, I had been fighting in the ring for the past week or so. Gavin has been paying me.”

Angus’s eyes popped open again. “That’s why ye’ve been keeping us away from there!” It was then he heard the jingling in my pocket. “Jesus how much has he been payin’ ye?”

“Enough.”

“Ye’re going to run. Aren’t ye?” An unnecessary question really. They’ve all known this from the second they met me.

“That’s … I … Dougal has all of it. For the Jacobites.”

He softened a bit. “But why?”

And the words came gushing out of me. “Because I want my damn ring back and I want to get as far away from Dougal as I can. All of the mistrust and all the shite I get for being English is quite honestly draining me. I want to go home.”

Home.

I shouldn’t have used that word.

You are an outlander no matter where on this earth you think you can run to.

I sat down heavily. “But that’s the thing. I’ve spent years as a ghost and I don’t even know where home is anymore, I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be doing. I thought I did. But the fighting, it was like medicine to me, it makes me feel passionate, it makes me forget. After we leave this town, nothing is going to change. I feel trapped. Directionless.”

It was true. It was as if somebody plucked me from Uncle Lamb’s side and plopped me into the middle of a vast ocean. I could stay afloat but for what? Everywhere I turned there was a huge expanse of nothing.

Angus sat down next to me. “Can I tell ye something? For what it’s worth, I trust ye, and ye look right at home, covered in blood and stinking like a man.”

I gave him an honest smile, “Thank you.”

“But what about …” Angus closed his mouth and scooted away. Clearly what he about to say might result in my elbow colliding with his ribs.

“What about what? Jamie?” I answered harshly. “What about him?”

I don’t know why his question made me bristle as much as it did, and what I said next did not improve matters in the slightest.

“Please don’t tell him about this.”

He caught the note of extreme seriousness in my voice. “Aye.” Was all he whispered in return. I traced the path his eyes took, out the wide stable door and up to the candle in Jamie’s window.

Inside, he helped me clean the wound as quietly as possible, and we trudged up to bed. Stripping off my sweaty garments, I groaned as I tugged loose the strip of fabric I used to bind my breasts. I had tried a corset once, but declined to ever do so again in favor of proper breathing and being able to bend at the waist.

Knowing that I wouldn’t sleep, I still tried in vain. I supposed I felt better, but only in the sense what I was able to get everything off my chest and hear my feelings out loud. Angus was a good listener, but the conversation should have been had with Jamie, and there was no telling how that would have gone and who would have walked away hurt. Although it probably would have been both of us.

My body so desperately wanted to be unconscious but my mind wouldn’t let it. About two hours had passed and the first light of day gently lit the room. There was a soft knock on the door, and I heard Dougal’s voice from the other side.

“Get up, lass.”

Of course he’d be wanting the money. I hurriedly tugged on some pants and a shirt and grimaced at the blood stains on the pillow. Evidently I had been oozing. Opening the door halfway in an attempt to cover my face, I thrust the pouch into his hand. “I know it’s not as much as last time, I’m sorry.”

“Never mind that lass. Get yerself together. Yer comin’ on a little trip wi’ me today.” Then he briskly walked away toward the stairs. Clearly the matter was not up for discussion.

This is it. I thought as I retied the knot on top of my head. He’s gotten all the money he can out of me and now he’s going to take me somewhere and kill me. I quietly slid the small knife Jamie had left in my room the other day into my boot.

Not if I kill you first.

Up close and personal, no arrows. He’d never see it coming. I imagined how it would go down. He’d lunge at me, I’d grab his throat and press the knife into the very spot I knew would bring death. A slow death, but death nonetheless. I wanted him to watch me reclaim my ring and finally be free of him.

“So kind of ye to finally make it.” Dougal said when I reached the stables. He’d already saddled a horse for me. “Daydreamin’ up there?”

“Actually yes.”

He didn’t question me further as we set out. After riding in silence for about an hour I had worked myself up to the point where my hands were quite clammy and I was overly aware of the sgian dhu waiting in my boot. The tiny knife couldn’t have been more than one pound but it felt like ten.

The hilly moor began to give way to forest. My horse followed Dougal’s of its own accord, allowing me to slouch back in the saddle and stare off into space. The trees that blurred by were becoming denser, and something caught my eye. Someone had set up camp on a distant hill. Strange, the hill seemed to rise up relative to everything around it, why expose yourself like that?

Squinting and craning my neck back to the mysterious hilltop, it was enough for me to break the silence that had stretched for the entire ride. “What on earth is that?” I said it more to myself, but Dougal answered anyway.

“Ancient faerie stones called Craigh na Dun.” He sounded almost wary. “Used by our ancestors for rituals, and said to be a gateway between worlds.”

My mouth twisted. That concealed more than it illuminated. These Scots and their superstitions. I thought back to those wretched tea leaves and supposed anything was worth believing.

The gentle thump of hooves striking grass gave way to the sound of crunching leaves. Dougal’s head was turning this way and that. We were close to our destination. My muscles tensed further in anticipation. The small spring looked peaceful enough, but Dougal had succeeded in choosing a secluded place. Then the smell hit me, and my face involuntarily contracted. Rotten eggs.

Dougal caught it and laughed; I was not about to turn my back to him. “I ken it doesn’t smell like roses, but there’s a reason I took ye here.”

There must have been a reason. Why ride over an hour for a drink from a spring that smelled like hell? I stiffened. To conceal the smell of a corpse?

He stared at me for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “There seems to be a bit of blood comin’ out of that head wound ye still haven’t told me about.”

I started and then gently touched my fingertips to the wound in question. They came away bloody. “So there is.” I smiled sweetly. “Please excuse me a moment.”

Kneeling by the edge of the spring, I made sure to keep him in my peripheral vision. The water was cool and it had an odd slippery quality. Throat parched with nerves, I took a big swallow before proceeding to wash the cut. Bracing myself for a taste to match the smell, it never came. The water was crisp and pure. Face dripping, I turned to find Dougal staring at me with an odd expression.

I shortly exhaled through pursed lips, causing the water to spray outward. “What?”

“I’m going to ask ye once more.” He said, tone turned quite serious. “Are ye a spy for the English?”

I stood up and crossed my arms impatiently. “For the final time,” I seethed, “I am not a fucking spy! Are you going to tell me why you’ve taken me here?”

His eyes narrowed as he sneered back at me. “Are ye going to tell me what’s happened to yer face? Or do I have to attend one o’ yer fights to get a better idea?”

I would have liked to maintain a cool, collected expression at this remark. I also should not have been surprised at Dougal’s knowledge of my clandestine activities in the slightest. My eyes had widened nonetheless and he laughed humorlessly.

“Angus …?” I said weakly, although I already knew it wasn’t him.

“Angus didna tell me ye wee dolt. Gavin did when I collected the rent from his family’s farm.”

“Ah.” I breathed, weaker still. It seemed I had failed to discuss the secrecy of my appearances with my sponsor. So Dougal knew my plan. He’d taken me here in order to kill or threaten me, thus preventing my escape and subsequent report back to my imaginary English superiors.

He had turned his back to me before he resumed speaking. “Ye’re verra messy, Claire.”

His back thus turned, I saw my chance. Of course the leaves underfoot would make sneaking up close difficult. A charge then, and a quick jab in the kidney. My heart instantly began pounding.

He was shaking his head and laughing, genuinely this time. “Verra messy, not to mention clumsy. Ye’d make a terrible spy, and I’m sorry its taken me till now to believe ye.”

My hand froze on its way toward the knife. “Wait what?”

He tilted his head and regarded me with considerably less menace than he had in all the time I’d known him. “Well ye drank from the Liar’s Spring aye? And yer still standin’ here.”

I gawked at him. If it had been this easy I would have dragged him here a long time ago. Evidently this place was called St. Ninian’s Spring. Anyone who drank from it and then told a lie would meet a fiery end quite swiftly, what with the reek of hell so close by.

“Dinna look so relieved yet, I’ve a few more questions.”

I sat down heavily and looked at him with raised eyebrows and expectant annoyance. As long as I didn’t burst into flames, he’d be satisfied. And if I did? Well, he would probably still be satisfied.

“So ye really are a fugitive of the Crown?”

“Yes. It wasn’t just some cover up. Neither was the money I gave you.”

He nodded solemnly. “I must admit ye had me a bit confused when ye began yer … donations. Give me money and with it, a false sense of security and trust? Yer right clumsy Claire, but I wouldna put that past ye.”

Indeed. For that had been my plan the entire time. Or had it?

“So now you see why I kept the fights from you. To be caught sneaking off in the middle of the night?” I laughed ruefully. “You’d never believe me.”

He nodded again but there was a long pause before he spoke, very softly.

“Can I ask why?”

My teeth momentarily clenched together. Hard.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” The words sounded strained and dry, barely above a whisper.

The air shifted; a chilling breeze blew tiny ripples across the stinking pool. Dougal had turned, and was staring at the wall of boulders on the side of the clearing. But he was seeing something else.

“You’ve seen his back.”

I inhaled sharply, and that was all the encouragement he needed to continue.

“I was there, ken.”

Whether I offered a response or not didn’t matter, for he meant to tell the tale either way. I found that my hands had clenched themselves tightly together. I did not want to hear this. I couldn’t. It felt like a betrayal of Jamie’s trust from when he first showed me the scars. But I had to.

So I listened to how Jamie and his still raw wounds were paraded out of his cell at Fort William. I imagined Jack Randall’s eyes lighting up upon seeing him. I imagined the cords of Jamie’s neck taut with pain as he attempted to remove his shirt, which Dougal had described as barely more than a rag and almost completely crusted with the red-brown of dried blood. Jamie had carefully folded it as if it were made of silk, his last shred of dignity. And he meant to keep it. Hearing this part of the story almost wasn’t as bad as the flogging itself. He had hung unconscious by the wrists for the latter half or so, unaware of Randall’s deranged face behind him, splattered with Jamie’s blood.

When his account had ended, my shoulders slumped and a shaky breath rattled out of my mouth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I ken ye care about Jamie and I ken ye care about Scotland.”

Perhaps I needed Dougal to say it before I truly realized it. Murtagh had tried to tell me as well. The truth was that I felt more Scottish than English, and I really didn’t want to leave my Highlanders. They looked out for me. I could be whoever I wanted around them, and it didn’t matter if who I wanted to be was a hunter and fighter . . . a protector. I wanted to be myself.

“Well ye’re already a fugitive aye? Might as well be full blown traitor while you’re at it.”

An unexpected laugh rose to the surface. “Do you know what? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

It was strange how nonchalantly I had made the decision to change my life. The first time had been an accident, but now I was the one drawing my own map. Scotland was flailing under England, and it had gotten worse during my short time here. I saw it everyday. Whether it was in the form of hunger, poverty, families being torn apart, or religious persecution, England was not just using Scotland for revenue. It was threatening their way of life, a rich and ancient culture that I respected and cared for very much . . . as much as I had resisted it. Then there was everything that had been done to Jamie, including double flogging and exile to France.

I supposed my deal with Colum was broken, as I had now effectively joined his brother in the exact kind of reckless acts he was looking to prevent to protect the Mackenzie clan.

“Why did ye no tell anyone the Crown was after ye?” His last loose end.

That was an easy one. “The fewer people that knew, the safer I felt. I’m sure you knew I had planned to leave your company as soon as possible, and I wasn’t looking to leave a trail leading right to me.”

He made a Scottish noise in his throat which I took to indicate understanding. The breeze had returned as we sat in silence for a while. Dougal purposefully rose to his feet, smoothed his kilt, and extended a hand to me.

“Welcome to the fight then, Claire.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #outlander fandom #Jamie Fraser #jamie and claire #jamie x claire #claire beauchamp #the sassenach warrior

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ends-of-the-wayward-storm · 4 years

Text

The Big Four--Through Moonlight--Book 1

Chapter 12--From the Air to Beneath the Ground

_______

Summary

Why something decided to bring so many different people together from so many different places was beyond them. But it had to be for good reason. And that reason just happens to be an elusive enemy who is searching for a powerful artifact, one with an unfathomable amount of knowledge.

There was definitely one thing in question, however—was this enemy the real deal, or something else?

(AO3 version) (First chapter)

[This chapter is also a bit longer than usual, but the next chapter’s just about my usual length.]

_______

Everything abruptly became darker, greener, and much more humid around Rapunzel. Screeching filled her ears as several people she didn’t know ran around and . . . looked to be fighting giant vultures made of tree bark.

“Rapunzel!” Eugene who was quickly followed by Cassandra hurried after her. “What in the name of—”

“Duck!” Cassandra yanked Rapunzel and Eugene down as a tree vulture failed to nab them. A much larger one locked onto them, and its hiss earned the attention of the trio.

“That is just about the biggest bird I have ever seen!”

Those voices. . . . Régine looked to where the outburst had come from and saw three very familiar people. “Rapunzel?!”

The blonde started. “Wait. Was that—?” Rapunzel quickly skimmed the area and found a black-haired princess rushing toward them. “Régine?!”

“What?!” Varian shouted just as Régine stole the big vulture’s attention. He looked to where she was and managed to spot one of his friends. “Rapunzel!”

“Varian?!” the newcomers said in disbelief.

“How did you even get here?! Wherever here is!” Eugene said.

“We’ll explain later!” Varian said. “Wait, where’s the jar?!”

Jar? Wait a minute. “I got it!” Rapunzel announced.

“Whatever you do, don’t lose it!” Hiccup said. A cry brought the Coronans’ attention to Régine slamming into a wall and falling limp onto the ground.

“Régine!” Charles and Chane shouted.

“Cass, get to Régine! Eugene and I’ll draw the vulture’s attention,” Rapunzel said.

“On it,” Cassandra said.

“Pascal, I need you keep an eye on the jar.”

The chameleon nodded, and Rapunzel set the jar down for him before untying her hair.

Anna attempted to swing at one of the tree vultures’ ankles with her new ice sword. “This is really frustrating!”

Hiccup and Toothless barrel rolled away from a rake. “Keep going! We got this!” The Viking then spotted Varian quickly working on something. “How’s it goin’ down there?”

“Almost done! I just need a few more minutes!” Varian replied from behind a partial dome of ice shielding him from most of the vultures.

Eugene rolled out of the way of a wing slap from the larger vulture. “Really wish I had a frying pan on me!”

Rapunzel pulled harder as the vulture viciously fought against her. “Come on come on!”

The vulture screeched lividly as it vainly tried to make its way toward Cassandra retreating with Régine, and Charles and Chane valiantly forced the vulture away from them. Rapunzel yanked even harder, and her hair managed to make a dent in the vulture’s chest.

Hiccup briefly skimmed over the area. Anna and Kristoff could only do so much from the ground, and Sven was doing his best in backing them up. Elsa was powerful but even she was beginning to tire. Poor Angus was cowering in a corner, and Merida would eventually run out of arrows which wouldn’t be good. Régine was out for the count and Chane and Charles were doing what they could. To top that off, the last people to be summoned (or so he assumed) had just been thrown into this mess. (And one of them apparently had just about the longest hair he’s ever seen.)

“Varian!” Hiccup urged.

“Just one more minute!” Varian said.

Merida loosed and arrow, landing a direct hit at the heart of a vulture. But when she reached for another arrow, she grabbed air. “Varian!”

He flinched as he hastily finished up his last concoction. “Got it! Ready when you are, Hiccup!”

In a heartbeat Toothless landed beside Varian, and Hiccup looked to the sizable collection of concoctions.

“Wow. That’s really impressive,” Hiccup complimented.

“Thank you,” Varian said with a smirk.

“All right. Slow burn, bud.”

Varian held two concoctions up to Toothless’s mouth, and the dragon's plasma instantly turned them from green to a sort of aqua. Slowly, the concoctions began to brighten, and Ruddiger took cover in a corner. “Heads up!” Varian chucked them at the closest vulture and ducked back behind his dome. A pained shriek filled the air, and the vulture was disintegrated instantly. “Yes! It worked!”

“Yes! Let’s keep ‘em comin’!”

Another pained screech, this time louder, erupted from the larger tree vulture. Charles yanked his sword out from its chest, and the creature dropped onto its side. Rapunzel’s hair slackened, and shock appeared on her face as rot began to cover the vulture like a disease. And within a minute, its form fell apart.

The vultures screeched and shrieked in agony, forcing everyone to cover their ears. But their cries quickly shifted to rage as they vehemently darted toward everyone.

“Quick! Toothless! Keep lighting them!” Varian urged.

The dragon did as told, and Varian threw one explosive after the other at the vultures. Elsa meanwhile kept firing at the vultures, but she could feel herself tiring out.

If only we still had Régine, she thought. Oh I hope she’s all right.

“Elsa look out!” Kristoff warned.

But it was too late. A vulture knocked Elsa back, sending her toward the dark water below. Above her Anna held an expression of horror as she watched her sister fall, but her view was abruptly blocked by Hiccup and Toothless swooping in just in the nick of time.

“Th-thank you,” Elsa stammered, trying to push her shock aside.

Cassandra managed to scrape the tail feathers of a vulture with her sword. The vultures seemed like they were multiplying, and the scales were tipping out of their favor. If they kept this up, they would be overrun. “We have to fall back!”

“Fall back where?!” Chane asked.

“The ruins!” Merida said, swinging her sword. “Hurry!”

Everyone fled for the ruins while attempting to keep the vultures at bay. Chane, Rapunzel, Cassandra, and Eugene began to push against the doors with all their might. Slowly but surely, the doors began to open. Toothless quickly pitched in, and in no time everyone was able to get through the doors. Elsa placed a wall of ice to keep the vultures at bay before hurrying after everyone else. Hastily the doors were closed, leaving the vultures to angrily protest in vain.

“Everyone accounted for?” Hiccup asked. The large group muttered replies, and they took a moment to breathe. Charles gently set Régine down, and the group glanced to them.

“Is she okay?” Varian asked.

“Nothing appears to be broken. . . .” Charles said. His eyebrows furrowed. “. . . I should’ve stayed closer to her. It’s my duty to protect her.”

“You protect her well enough,” Chane assured. If anything I feel just as responsible, maybe more than you. “. . . I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

A couple moments went by before Régine furrowed her eyebrows with a groan. Immediately Chane dropped to his knees beside her. “What happened?”

“That vulture knocked you back,” Eugene said. “You all right?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” She winced as she sat up. “I don’t know why that bird didn’t burn to a crisp when I used my magic. Those tree monsters burned easily.”

“It was probably tougher than it looked,” Kristoff guessed. “All of those things were.”

“I’m glad you’re safe, Princess,” Charles said. “. . . Forgive me for not keeping a more careful watch over you.”

“It’s fine, Charles,” Régine said. “I know you always try your best.”

“Those little explosive thingies were really great, by the way,” Anna said. “How did you make them so fast?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Varian said. “First I used—”

“I hate to break this up but does someone mind explaining what’s going on and where we are?” Cassandra said.

“Oh. Right.” Varian explained to his friends the situation pretty well. But now that he was actually saying it out loud, it sounded insane. True, but insane.

After everything had been said, the trio of Coronans (and Pascal) was . . . at a loss for words, for one.

“Doesn’t that sound just a little far-fetched?” Eugene said after a few moments.

“A little?” Cassandra said.

“It’s the truth, I’m afraid,” Chane said.

Régine studied Rapunzel. “Your hair’s not brown anymore. Or short.”

“It’s a long story,” Rapunzel said, glancing to the side.

“Wait. You’ve met before?” Varian asked.

“They met when Princess Rapunzel came to our kingdom,” Charles explained.

“Oh.”

Our kingdom. . . . Suddenly something dawned on Rapunzel. “Ohmigosh! My dad’s going to freak when he finds out we’re gone.”

“My dad’s probably already freaking out,” Hiccup said.

“Is . . . my dad freaking out?” Varian asked.

“A little,” Rapunzel said. “He’s really worried.”

“Mine most likely thinks I’ve run off again,” Régine said. “And my mother. . . .”

“Mai dad’s probably searchin’ the entire kingdom now,” Merida said. Anna and Elsa glanced to each other.

“I guess everyone’s dads are worried,” Anna summed up with a trace of sadness.

“. . . Kai and Gerda are probably worried,” Elsa said. “Oh, and Olaf. . . .”

“Well the faster we find that book the faster we can all get home,” Chane said.

“Back you beasts!” a man’s voice snapped. Unanimously the group looked to the doors.

“Is someone still out there?” Anna asked.

“Oh no. . . .” Merida groaned, pulling her face down with her hands.

“What?”

“Mai dad.”

“Wait your dad is out there?”

“More importantly how did he even find us?” Kristoff asked.

Instead of answering, Merida pulled at the doors. Toothless pitched in as well, but Hiccup pulled him back.

“Hold on a second, bud. I think you might need to stay in here,” the Viking said. “I don’t think her dad’s going to like you all that much.” Toothless uttered a sort of sympathetic noise before backing down.

The doors were open again, and Rapunzel peeked out only to see an icy wall.

“Dad!” Merida yelled.

“Merida! Are you all right, lass?” Fergus yelled back.

“Ahm fine!”

Shortly after that a vulture was taken down by him. “Where’s that boy?!”

Hiccup flinched. “Aaaand maybe I should stay in here, too.” Nothing like the king of your enemies angrily searching for you.

“I’ll explain later!” Merida was about to charge out when Elsa spoke up.

“Wait. You need arrows.” With a quick wave of her fingers Elsa filled Merida’s quiver with icy arrows.

“Uh thanks.” I think ah better make some more later.

A large explosion suddenly went off, making Varian wince. “Well. There go my explosives.”

Pascal left the jar with Hiccup, and everyone with the exception of Hiccup, Toothless, and Angus went back out. The instant Elsa removed the ice wall Régine hurled her fire at the vultures. Another wall was placed to keep the vultures from getting into the ruins, and Elsa went to catch up to Anna, Kristoff, and Sven.

“How are they doing that?” a man asked, looking in awe at Elsa and Régine.

“Ah don’t care as long as they get rid o’ these things!” another said.

Merida notched an arrow, and she could already feel a difference in it. “This better work.” The arrow flew nearly exactly like her wooden ones, and it struck just as true. “Huh. Not bad. . . .”

Rapunzel wrapped her hair around a vulture’s ankle and flung it into a nearby vulture, stunning them. A brief but angry growl told her Régine was close by, and she stole a quick glance at Régine incinerating both vultures.

“I never thought hair could be used as a weapon,” Régine said.

“You’d be surprised how much you can do with seventy feet of it.”

Soon the vultures were overwhelmed, forcing the surviving ones to retreat into the sky. Fergus’s men cheered, and they followed their king as he reunited with his daughter.

“Merida! Ma wee darlin’!” He picked her up in a massive hug. “Oh your mother an’ I have been worried sick!”

“Ahm fine, Dad. Really,” Merida said. “But . . . ah can’t come home yet.”

“What?”

She stepped back. “. . . Ah don’t know how ta explain without makin’ it seem like ah’ve gone mad.” And so to the best of her ability, she explained.

Her father and his men listened intently with growing disbelief. But Fergus had seen nonsense prove itself to be true. After all his wife and three sons turned into bears because of a spell.

Once Merida had finished, Fergus and his men were ultimately at a loss for words.

“An’. . . all o’ you are involved in this?” he managed to ask.

“We are,” Elsa answered.

“Does that mean you all can’t go home, either?” a man asked.

“Not until we find that book,” Varian replied.

“And that ‘boy’? He’s involved in this as well,” Merida said. “. . . He's someone ah can trust.” Hiccup and Toothless exchanged glances.

“Where is he, then?” Fergus asked.

Elsa looked to Merida, who nodded. The ice wall disappeared, and everyone’s attention went to the ruins. Again Hiccup and Toothless exchanged looks.

“Stay here, bud,” Hiccup said, and he walked out into the open. “I uh, I’d like to apologize for making you worry and ultimately think the worst. Things kind of . . . happened pretty quickly.”

“So ah’ve been told,” Fergus said. It was strange how much he reminded Hiccup of his own father. They both had that stern look, and they were both pretty big. And they both cared about their kids. “Merida says she trusts you, lad.”

“I uh, I heard.”

“And . . . if she trusts you . . . then ah suppose ah shouldn’t have reason to worry.” A knowing grin grew across his face. “Besides, you wouldn’t stand a chance against her in combat.”

Fergus’s men laughed in agreement, and Hiccup refrained from frowning. However the king’s grin vanished as he set his gaze back onto Merida.

“Do you know how long you’ll be gone for?”

“. . . No,” Merida replied. “But I’ll try not to be long. I swear it.”

Fergus enveloped her in another hug. “Be safe, lass.”

“Ah will, Dad.”

With one final but gentle squeeze, Fergus let go. “Wait ‘til your mother hears this. She won’t believe a single word.”

“Ahm sure she will.”

The king mounted his horse. “Oh! Ah think you might be needin’ these.” He handed her the arrows he had salvaged.

Merida smiled, and she returned her arrows to her quiver.

“Back to the castle, then!” Fergus spurred his horse on, and his men and deerhounds followed. “Ah look forward ta hearin’ the tales you’ll bring o’ this!”

His daughter laughed, and the group watched Fergus and his men depart.

“Well! That couldn’t have gone better,” Hiccup said, relieved.

“At least he’s not hunting us down anymore.”

Toothless nosed Hiccup, who rubbed his dragon’s head affectionately.

“Let’s try to get a move on, then,” Chane said. While the others headed back into the ruins, Merida, Hiccup, and Toothless drifted behind the group.

“I thought your dad was going to send me off to the dungeon,” Hiccup said.

“Ah wouldn’t have let him,” Merida said. “Ah trust you, even if you are a Viking.”

“Well you’re not too bad yourself.”

Toothless hummed contently, and he gave both of them a grin.

Back with the others, Rapunzel was running her hand across the wall in thought. Another adventure had begun, and it had taken her very far from home and to a whole new world. She was excited, of course, but she was also a little nervous. Well not really nervous. Just worried about her dad worrying about her being missing and the fact that there was probably no way to let him and her mom know that she was just fine.

Something caught her eye on the wall. It was subtle even with Régine’s fire giving them light, and it looked like some sort of writing. It was only a few symbols, but one of them seemed partially hidden. Upon brushing the dirt aside, she found more symbols.

“Hey guys? I think I found something,” Rapunzel said. Régine held her hand up and made her fire brighter as everyone tried to gather around.

“Looks like some sort of writing,” Anna said. Merida nudged her way through, and she squinted at the wall.

“Can you read it?” Cassandra asked.

Merida brushed off any extra dirt. “ ‘Earth be moved. . . . Earth be changed. . . . Grant us passage . . . through walls aged.’ ”

The group flinched as the ruins rumbled. The writing glowed grass green, and part of the wall descended into the ground, revealing a dimly lit passage of stone and rock.

“Well. That was eerily convenient,” Eugene said.

“How far do you think it goes?” Rapunzel asked.

“Could be pretty deep,” Kristoff said. “Might be home to a few things.”

“Hopefully those things are regular animals and not those monsters,” Hiccup commented.

“Is it even the right way?” Régine asked.

Charles, who had picked up the jar, held it toward the passage. The moonbeam flickered more, and if he didn’t know any better he’d suspect that it seemed nervous. “This is the way.”

Angus nickered uneasily, and Toothless skeptically peered into it.

“You’ll be fine, Angus,” Merida said.

The horse shook his head, and Sven nudged Angus. The reindeer made a sort of soft noise of encouragement, and Angus whinnied briefly. Sven smiled in reassurance, leading Kristoff to clap him on the back.

“He’s got your back. Trust me,” Kristoff said, and Angus cautiously peeked inside again.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Anna said, and she stepped inside.

Cassandra managed to make two torches for Régine to light before handing one to Eugene. Everyone carefully filed into the passage, and once the last person was through, it closed behind them.

“No turning back,” Elsa said, a little uneasy.

The group continued on in silence, their footsteps echoing throughout the passage. Stalagmites big and small stretched up toward the top, while smaller stalactites hung from above. And luckily the passage was tall enough for Angus.

“So,” Anna started, making a couple people jump, “I think we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Anna, this is my sister Elsa, that’s Kristoff, the reindeer’s Sven, oh that big horse is um . . . uh. . . .”

“Angus,” Merida finished.

“Right. There we go. Oh that was Merida that just spoke. The dragon’s Toothless, aaand the guy next to him is Hiccup. Oh! And then there’s Varian. Oh and his raccoon.” Anna paused. “Am I missing some people?”

“Those people would be Régine, Charles, and um . . . whoever that other guy is,” Eugene said. “Don’t think we’ve met before.”

“It’s Chane. And I’m sure Régine and Charles are familiar with your friends.”

“Eugene Fitzherbert. The grumpy one is Cassandra and the amazing one is Rapunzel.” At the remark Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“And Pascal’s here, too,” Rapunzel said, and the chameleon saluted.

“Wow. This is a lot of people,” Anna commented.

“Well these enemies are supposed to be dangerous,” Régine said.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it,” Elsa said. Something grabbed the animals’ attention, prompting the party to stop.

“Now what?” Chane sighed.

“Wait.” Régine took a couple steps forward. “Listen.”

The party fell silent as they strained their ears, and they could just barely hear something up ahead.

“There’s water down here,” Kristoff said.

“Might be a river,” Hiccup suggested.

The group followed the sound, keeping alert for any sign of that girl’s creatures. As they went, the passage became wider and taller, and everyone was able to spread out a bit. The water grew louder and louder with every step, until they eventually reached a waterfall feeding into a small lake.

Somehow the ruins looked to be in much better condition underground. The gray stone blended smoothly with the rock of the cave, as if the ruins were built in harmony with it. Cassandra and Rapunzel shared a look. Although it was a far cry from the hidden lagoon they had once come across, the clear water seemed to glitter in the sunlight like the gems they had found.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Régine said.

“Ah wonder who built these ruins,” Merida said. The group made their way over to the lake, and Angus sniffed the water before taking a few sips, Sven joining him a few moments later.

“We should probably get some rest before we keep going,” Elsa said.

“And maybe we should figure out a plan for when we run into the maker of those creatures,” Chane added.

_______

(First chapter) (Next chapter) (Previous chapter)

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multi--dimensional · 4 years

Text

Happy Candlenights, Sirs!

I’ve never posted a fic here, so my apologies if the formatting is weird.

This is my half of @thecandlenightszone exchange, and my partner is @Kentuckyfriedbooks! I know I’m a little late, and I’ve already asked them for forgiveness.

Critical information: In order to make this idea work with what I know about the show (AKA nothing past The Eleventh Hour), I had to mess with the timeline a little bit and take advantage of the weird passage of time. Essentially, I’m moving the pre-Crystal Kingdom Candlenights party to a different point in time and adding another Candlenights between it and the chaos that happened after Crystal Kingdom. Hopefully that makes sense.

With that, here’s the story! I’m gonna go read mine. :)

Temperatures were dropping, precipitation was getting more and more frozen, and the skies were getting dark sooner at the same time thousands of lights lit up the night in every town. The halls of the Moon Base were decked, and a particular small room had a little shrub proudly displayed on its only table. Another Candlenights season was kicking up, and Angus was ready for it. He’d saved up from missions, made several trips to the Fantasy Costco, and he had hopefully gotten everyone something they would enjoy more than the books he’d handed out last year.

He’d managed to find a proper strop for Magnus, enchanted to protect the blades that it sharpened so that they’d dull slower and be less likely to break. There was a solid bronze handle attached to it that made wrapping it far harder than it should’ve, and in the end he gave up on neatness and twisted a hunk of paper around it like the end of a hard candy wrapper.

Merle’s was more difficult, but he ultimately decided on a pot full of purple starbuds. During the day, the blooms were wound into a tight, dark purple cone, but come night, they’d unfurl into a star-shaped flower with a twisted center, and clusters of white speckles on the petals would be visible. Its broad leaves were also a great downer when dried correctly; Angus’ grandfather used to smoke them occasionally, and it surprised him that he’d been allowed to buy them at all. He wasn’t certain, but thought Merle would appreciate that feature. He’d only wrapped the pot, not trusting himself or Merle to not kill the plants if he put them in a box.

Their presents were sitting in a corner, waiting to be handed out, and he was currently trying to wrap Taako’s. He’d been at an utter loss for his present. He wanted to get him something he’d really like, but realized with surprise that he didn’t know what that might be. Magnus was an open book and loved to talk about woodworking, and Merle was a Panite, so a woodworking tool and a plant seemed like obvious choices. Taako, though not exactly quiet, didn’t actually talk about himself that much. Angus knew he loved to cook, but he also knew that cooking was a sore spot for him, so an enchanted utensil may not be a good idea. He liked magic, but already had a powerful magic focus. After perusing the shelves of Fantasy Costco for a few hours (across the course of a few days, as Garfield’s staring quickly unnerved him), he decided to get him an Alchemist’s Ring. He was pretty sure Taako liked jewelry, and if he, Merle, or Magnus ever needed to resort to a health potion on the field, this would make it stronger. It even seemed to fit with his style, which was very lucky. At the last second, he grabbed a basic acrylics set and a mug that said “World’s Best Wizard.” He proceeded to paint some pink flowers around the text and wedge the word “Flip” before “Wizard”. (Taako had reluctantly given a demonstration of his acrobatic skills when Angus had asked why his friends occasionally called him that, and he was still amazed.) Now, Angus was definitely a better detective than an artist, but after a few restarts and a lot of touch ups, he was very proud of his handiwork. It was just too bad he couldn’t give the flowers a scent. Maybe he’d try a prestidigitation on it when he gave it to Taako.

He carefully dropped the ring box into the mug, set it into a box, tucked his spare towel around it, and wrapped it the best he could. Mission accomplished. Giddy, he placed the gifts under the shrub and turned on the mostly-working fairy lights. He knew the boys held their own traditions around the same time, almost two weeks away, so he’d keep them there until then. He turned to the handful of mismatched candles on his dresser, closed his eyes, and attempted to cast prestidigitation. They flickered to life on his second try, and he let out a whoop.

It really felt like Candlenights in his little room. All he needed was a macaron; it had only been one year, but he already viewed them as a Candlenights tradition he wanted to continue.

He knew cooking was a testy subject for Taako, but couldn’t help but hope that he’d get another one for Candlenights this year.

...

Wednesday morning dawned bright and clear— literally dawned. The sun was barely over the horizon and Angus McDonald, Boy Detective and notorious Early Bird, was already up and at ‘em, hanging out in a corner he’d claimed in a lounge dome near his dorm. It was magic day once again. Six months of weekly magic lessons had only grown his enthusiasm, and he was pouring over the pages that he’d dedicated to magic notes in the back of his beat up little notebook.

He looked up at the quiet whoosh of the door opening, and the thumping of snow-laden boots on the entry rug.

“Hello, Madam Director!” He chirped.

The Director jumped, gaze quickly swinging around the small room and landing on Angus. She relaxed and exhaled an embarrassed sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle.

Angus’ eyes had widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Madam! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s alright, Angus,” she started, regaining her composure and gliding to his little corner. “I wasn’t paying attention, I suppose.” She started removing her gloves and took a seat on the couch across from him and smiled gently. “What are you doing up this early?”

“Oh, I’m always up this early! Early bird gets the worm, my grandpa always said! Which was strange, since he sometimes got annoyed at how early I was up. What about you, Madam?”

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I took a walk.” As she put her gloves in her shoulder bag, her hand nudged something and she peeled up. “You know what, Angus? I know it’s still a little early in the season, but I’ve got something for you.”

The Director pulled something out of her bag, and Agus breathed a quiet “Whoa.”

It was a small parcel, wrapped in shiny, blue paper, scattered with delicate silver stars and elaborately tied with a sleek, grey bow. It was completely free of wrinkles, almost seamless, and he couldn’t tell what was holding it all together. If he didn’t know better, he’d even say it glowed just the tiniest bit. Angus had to wonder if there was a spell for gift wrapping, or if the Director had just been hiding insane proficiencies in paper folding and knot tying. He was reluctant to even touch the gleaming paper, especially since he was pretty sure he knew what it was.

The package was the size and shape of a book, and it was well known among the base that Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop was his favorite series. What was less well known was that he already owned all the books. A copy or two would be an easy gift for him if someone wasn’t sure what else to get him. He had half a mind to thank the Director, bring the present back to his dorm, and display it as it was.

She had the slightest of self-satisfied smirks when he looked back up. She pushed it towards him. “Go on, open it.” She must’ve seen his hesitation, because she chuckled. “Don’t worry about the paper, I can wrap it back up afterwards if you’d like.”

He nodded and took the gift. It felt heavier than he expected it to be, more sturdy than his usual paperbacks. Maybe an exclusive cover? He worked off the bow and removed the paper, still careful to keep it from tearing.

Inside was a box, which he also opened and slid the contents into his free hand. It was a book, as he expected, but it wasn’t Kid Cop. It was a journal. The cover was made of beautifully tanned leather, with a pen holster on the spine and a cover flap that was fastened closed with a large, walnut wood button. There was an engraved jellyfish on the right side, dyed purple, blue, and green. He ran his fingers over the engraving, and the jellyfish seemed to float under his touch. Soft, tiny lights in its umbrella blinked once, twice, and went dark again.

The Director reached in front of him and pointed at the button. In silent awe, he unfastened it and pulled open the flap. On the inside, hand-engraved, were the words “Detective’s Notes.”

“I noticed your old one was getting a bit ratty,” she said. “The button is charmed. It stores two spells. If you tap it two times, it’ll cast ‘reduce’ on the notebook so you can put it in your pocket. Tapping three times will cast ‘enlarge,’ and it’ll return to normal.”

“I-- Thank you, Madam Director!” Angus’ eyes were starting to well up, but he grinned ear-to-ear. “I love it! I haven’t gotten a new notebook in... I think 2 years? Maybe? This is fantastic, I actually have clean pages! I won’t need to keep scribbling in margins, and putting Fischer on the cover, did you do that yourself? Thank you so much, it’s so cool! What spell was that? Oh, that pen holster is gonna be so great--”

The Director smiled softly as he rambled on, but as she watched, her face changed. She slid off the couch and knelt down to Angus’ height. Her smile had disappeared, the corners of her mouth turned down in concern as she looked him in the eye. “Angus, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

Startled by the sudden change in mood, he settled down and nodded.

“You are happy here, right?”

“Of course, Madam Director!” She didn’t look convinced, so he continued, “I’ve got my own room, I live on an awesome floating base, and I’m able to use my detective skills to help people. Almost everyone here is super nice, and I’m getting to learn magic!”

The smile returned, and tension drained from her shoulders that Angus hadn’t fully realized was there. She reached out and ruffled his curls. “Good, I’m really happy to hear that. I just want you to know that no one’s forcing you to stay here. You’re extraordinarily bright, Angus, but I fear that I may have dragged you into a situation you don’t want to be in. We all love your company, and you’re a great help, truly. But if you ever want to leave, just say the word. Or even if you want to stay on the base, but keep out of missions. Just. Let me know if you’re unhappy.”

This was clearly something that had been weighing on her for a while. Angus nodded solemnly. “I will, Madam Director. I promise.”

“Thank you.” She tentatively opened her arms, and Angus stepped forward and hugged her, notebook still clutched in one hand.

“Happy Candlenights.”

Her eyes crinkled into a true smile. “Happy Candlenights, Angus.”

When the hug ended, the Director looked at him with a hint of slyness in her gaze.

“You said ‘almost everyone.’ I feel like you might be referring to Taako, Magnus, and Merle. Just a little secret, Angus: Taako’s teasing isn’t meant to be hurtful. He considers it friendly ribbing of an equal. You mean quite a lot to him. Merle and Magnus, too.”

Angus beamed. “That’s what I thought! At least, I was pretty sure, but it’s...”

“Hard to tell with those boys, yeah.”

They both smiled.

“Oh, hey! Can you-” Angus moved to grab the box, planning on asking the Director to rewrap it, but when he turned around, it was already done. He looked back at the Director, who was clearly trying not to grin.

“Can you please teach me that?”

“You know what, Angus? Talk to me next Candlenights, and I’ll give you some tips.”

...

Magic lessons went by far quicker than Angus liked, as per always, but they went well. Taako commended him on his Mage Hand, the basics of which he nailed a while ago, but the aesthetic? Not so much. He had finally gotten a fully-formed, not nightmarish hand today. They had started working on the different facets of prestidigitation too, which was coming along nicely.

Now they were walking across the main campus of the base. Angus wasn’t quite sure where, but he hadn’t been shooed off yet, so he stuck around. He’d noticed that Taako was more bundled up than he normally liked, with a shorter hat, and that he’d stopped to pull Angus’ beanie over his ears and make sure he had gloves on before they went outside. While it did make him grin, he didn’t think about it much. They were thousands of feet in the air in the middle of winter. It was cold out.

What he hadn’t quite yet discounted was the way Taako kept looking around once they stepped outside of the mess hall. He couldn’t tell if he was nervous or expectant, but he was... something, and it was putting him on edge. Taako only said that “Everything’s good, Ango D’jango” when he asked if something was wrong, so he was trying to put it out of his mind.

To help ignore how distracted Taako was acting, Angus started rambling about any and everything, from the lesson to how pretty the campus looked covered in snow, and that was when a snowball landed two feet in front of him. He heard the vinyl squeak of winter material as Taako quickly hopped to the right, and a quiet thump as a second snowball hit his arm in spite of his best efforts.

Behind a mound of snow not twenty feet away came a voice. “Merle, you have the worst aim.”

And from a tree ten feet to their right came: “Hey, sorry we aren’t all gifted with decent athletics!”

A red pom-pommed hat atop a familiar bearded face popped up from the mound, and Magnus grinned as he threw another snowball. Angus was bracing for impact when he was swept off the ground; Taako had picked him up and tucked him under his arm as he ran for shelter. Dodging hits all the way, he crouched behind a half wall that normally framed a seating area and set Angus down next to him. He was smirking, and a competitive gleam lit up his eyes.

“Start making snowballs,” he ordered, already starting on his own pile. Angus started to do so, but after spending fifteen seconds on one, Taako interrupted. “Don’t go for shape, just get it packed. Have you never made a snowball before?”

Angus shook his head. “Not in the middle of a fight!”

“...Oh. Well, here, just— grab a double handful of snow, and—“ he quickly packed it into a lopsided ball, and Angus mimicked him. “Yes, perfect! Keep doing that!”

In no time, they had a pile of ammo the height of Angus sitting criss-cross. The battlefield was quiet. After a few moments, footsteps crunched across the snow towards them, and Angus knew why they hadn’t returned fire: Taako was luring them closer.

Indeed, Taako was peering through a crack in the wall, grinning an evil grin. Angus found another hole, and sure enough, Magnus was out in the open halfway between their wall and his mount, trying to be sneaky.

“Hey, bubula,” Taako whispered, “Wanna see a trick?”

Angus nodded vigorously.

“Alright, cast Mage Hand, but keep it low.” After a second, two Mage Hands appeared near the snow. Taako put a snowball in each, and his Mage Hand wrapped around it. Ango had his do the same. “Load it up, wind back,” the Hands drew back, and Taako peeked his head just barely above the wall. Angus followed.

Magnus made eye contact with them and froze, then paled when Taako yelled, “And fUCKING CHUCK IT!”

His Mage Hand launched the snowball directly into Magnus’ chest, and he stumbled back. Angus’ came damn close. From then on, it was all-out war. Magnus and Merle were worthy opponents, but Taako and Angus fiercely defended their base, their Mage Hands giving them twice the throwing capacity. Angus even got a few hits in, and Taako yelled encouragement each time.

The battle ended an hour later, when Merle used Shield of Faith on Magnus, allowing him to barrel through the onslaught and dump a Heroic Memories Shieldful of snow on both of them. Angus was laughing too hard to continue at that point, and while he didn’t want to head inside, he had to admit to himself that he was getting cold. Taako seemed to agree and started complaining about how elves aren’t meant for this weather, he was going to catch his death out here, etc. etc. Magnus and Merle gave each other a knowing look at that, though Angus wasn’t sure why.

Davenport had a platter of hot chocolate ready for them when they came in, serving it with his usual cheerful “Davenport!” Angus grabbed a mug and thanked him profusely, clinking mugs with Taako.

Time to cross “snowball fight” off his bucket list.

...

Another week and a half passed relatively quietly. There were no missions, no big disasters (unless an exploding snow duck counted-- so he didn’t have the cleaning part of prestidigitation down yet). Just the usual, wonderful mess of mashed together traditions that came with the season.

Angus had spent most of the day in the library, and bolted back to his dorm when he noticed the sun going down. It always got frigid on the base when it was dark, and he wasn’t prepared for the cold because hadn’t planned to stay so long. He’d just gotten sucked into an older Caleb Cleveland book that he’d read probably a hundred times now. Those older books were pure gold. It was just a shame that Grant Andrews had died. His son had tried to take over, but he just didn’t have the same style.

Not to mention aging Caleb up to a teen was probably the worst decision ever.

Angus made it back minutes after sunset, and was still stomping his feet to get some feeling back to them when he opened his door. His alarm bells immediately went off. Something felt different. He scanned the room from the doorway, investigating each corner, but nothing looked like it had been moved. Nothing was missing. He took a tentative step inside and shivered. It wasn’t as cold as it was outside, but it was definitely a few degrees cooler than the hall. As small a room as it was, it was normally warmer than the hall.

Wait.

He glanced at his Candlenights shrub. The fairy lights were off. He could’ve sworn he left them on; he almost never turned them off during the holidays. Still glancing around, he crept towards the shrub and flicked them on.

There was a fourth gift under the shrub. He’d missed it in the gloom, and it was no wonder why: in contrast to the rest, this one was covered with black fabric, and a sleek black feather was tucked into a fold at the top. It was half off of the table, like whoever put it there was in a rush or afraid of being caught.

Someone had been in his room. He had no clue what might be under those wrappings. He should go get someone. Taako, or the Director, or one of the guards.

But no one but the Bureau members could even get to the Moon Base. None of them would try to hurt him... Right?

Despite his better judgement, Angus found his hand drifting towards it. He tugged part of the fabric away to reveal a cover with a very familiar design, but an unfamiliar title. The top was bordered with golden yellow roses whose petals seemed to be made of gemstones. Below them was a large police badge, with a wooden wand crossed behind it. Inside the badge was written:

Caleb Cleveland and the Secret of the Amber Rose

That was strange. Angus didn’t know of a Caleb Cleveland book with that title, and even stranger was that the badge and wand was the cover style used for the older books. They didn’t use that style anymore. His first thought was that a new book had somehow come out without him knowing, and they’d reverted back to the old covers. Maybe they’d even gone back to the old format, with Kid Cop! He started to pull away the rest of the rest of the fabric, and his eyes drifted to the bottom of the cover.

By Grant Andrews

That... couldn’t be right. Grant Andrews died years ago. It was far too official looking to be an old draft; people had already unearthed some of Andrew’s drafts, and he didn’t bind them. Was it a forgery? Did someone try to publish something in his name? Could it be a super obscure early series book?

Okay... when was this published?

He flipped to the copyright page and skimmed. It was published... This year?

Alright... It had to be a forgery, right? A fanwork? If it was an official fanwork, it’d be published by Blueglades. He kept scanning, and... nope, definitely not. Silver Sea Publishing. He’d never heard of that company.

Angus’ eyes kept drifting to the summary in the jacket. It looked... really good. Really true to the series. He glanced at the copyright page, then back to the jacket. As much as he wanted to solve the mystery of where this book came from, the mystery printed on its pages called to him more. He climbed into bed, lit the bedside candles with prestidigitation and a quick, proud smile, opened the book, and dug in.

...

As dedicated a reader as Angus was, he was still, almost invariably, the “early to bed, early to rise” type. He woke up just before dawn the next morning, the Secret of the Amber Rose fallen half-open on the bed in front of him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, stopping dead when he realized his glasses weren’t on his face. He looked around and found them on his bedside table. Oddly, the candles were out-- not burned down, just out. Eyebrows furrowed, he reached for his glasses, put them on, and scanned the room for the second time in twelve hours.

Once again, he found his shrub tampered with. The three presents he had placed underneath were gone, replaced with three different ones. Further investigation proved them to be from Taako, Merle, and Magnus. He laughed; they must’ve broken in to leave their presents, and couldn’t resist when they saw some with their names. Very on-brand. He grabbed the presents, sat down in front of the shrub table, and set to opening them.

He tore open Magnus’ first, and immediately wondered if he and the Director had worked together. It was a wooden pen, and looked to be made of the same walnut wood as the button on his notebook. There was a built-in grip near the nib, and a small carving of a wizard’s hat at the end, which had the word “Ango” delicately carved around the brim. It was beautiful, and he put it right into the pen holder so he wouldn’t lose it.

Next, he grabbed Merle’s. It was a Trick Tract, and he almost sighed and put it aside, but decided to skim through it. A few pages in, he started to actually read it. Merle had put some thought into this one; it was about a boy detective investigating a supernatural occurrence on All Hallow’s Eve. In place of the normal message at the end was a short, handwritten message that simply said, “Happy Candlenights, Fancy Lad.” It was no masterpiece, but it was... good. Angus reread the final page a few times, grinning, before he finally closed the tract.

Last but not least, Taako’s. Something shifted around in the box as he lifted it, so he slowed his movements and put it down gently. He peeled back the wrapping and found a note on top of the box, written with a flourish that made it almost illegible, “IOU, magical difficulties. Happy Candlenights, Mr. Wizard.”

Well, that was cryptic, but he continued on and opened the box. His face lit up enough to power the Base.

It was a box of assorted macarons. It looked like Taako felt the same as him about making them a tradition.

As the sun rose and cast shifting hues of light through his small window, Angus gathered his presents and moved them onto his bedside table. He cuddled back into his blankets, picking up his book and choosing a cookie to nibble on.

He couldn’t have asked for a better Candlenights.

-------

-A strop is a piece of leather, usually nailed to a piece of wood, used to sharpen straight blades.

-I basically blended night sky petunias and the first and middle stages of moonflowers to get purple starbuds. They’re both really pretty, and I got the side effects simply from someone describing the scent of moonflowers as “intoxicating.”

-I pulled the Caleb Cleveland reference full circle, lol. The idea that the series went downhill ‘cause the original author died is my personal headcanon, but I love it, especially because it means I got to do this. Krav is definitely bending rules here, but he did it for his bf and his boy. Don’t tell the Raven Queen.

Happy Candlenights, everyone! @Kentuckyfriedbooks, I hope you enjoyed!

#theadventurezone #taz #taz balance #candlenights #candlenights exchange #angus mcdonald #candlenights 2019

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desiree-harding-fic · 5 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere

IDK FAM IT’S SOME VAGUELY MODERN!AU SAPPY BULLSHIT DON’T @ ME

I think they’re at dinner, somewhere, like on a nice date. Real world AU in which Taako has adopted Angus and Kravitz is Taako’s very nice, very handsome, now-live-in boyfriend who is basically his husband in everything but title.

It doesn’t make the proposal any less nerve-wracking.

I didn’t do my homework tonight! :D

“Look, I uh –” Taako suddenly can’t get any words to come out of his mouth at all, he just sits there, floundering, unable to speak and unable to breathe and just looking at his very handsome, very attentive boyfriend, who is looking back at Taako like he’s worried.

“Taako?” he says, “are you… alright?”

“Yep!” Taako says, too hasty, and oh gods, what is he doing this is a nightmare this isn’t anything, it’s a disaster of a conversation and he doesn’t even have a ring…

“Taako?”

“Yep, I’m great!” Taako says, forcing himself to put on a fake smile, “great and fantastic, just having a uh – a bit of a tough time putting the words together, you know me!”

Kravitz smiles, places a hand face up on the table for Taako to hold.

“Take your time, then,” he says, smile on his face, and Taako looks at Kravitz’s hand, and then back at Kravitz, and then at Kravitz’s hand, and back at Kravitz. And, well. He takes it. Because how can he not?

“Listen,” he says. “I… you and I have been dating for a while.”

When he doesn’t go on, Kravitz squeezes his hand, says, “we have.” Like a prompt.

“Yeah,” Taako says, and why does Kravitz have to look so goddamn good tonight? It’s distracting. He rallies. “And, you know, I’ve had a really good time with you –” at Kravitz’s suddenly wide eyes, he backtracks. “Have! Have a good time with you, I do, still, in the present, I am currently having a good time with you, that’s not a… that’s not a past-tense thing, really, I just… right.

“So I have a really good time with you, and we’ve been together a while,” Kravitz is looking outright confused at Taako’s rambling now, and now definitely concerned. Pull it together, Taako. “And um… I – I love – I love you, you know that.” He says, not looking at Kravitz’s face, instead at his hand, clasping Taako’s own, and here with his left hand in Kravitz’s right, Taako thinks how bad he wants it and he keeps talking.

“I love you,” he says again, softer, “a whole lot. And you love me, you’ve said like – a hundred times,” he gives a weird little laugh and chokes on his words again, and Kravitz chimes in with a soft little I do, and Taako just about dies.

“And,” he says, “I was just thinking,” his mouth is so dry, “the other day, that… we already… we like live together and everything and Angus is crazy about you –”

“I’m crazy about Angus,” Kravitz cuts in, good-natured, and he’s leaning on one hand and smiling at Taako, lovestruck, and Taako just has to say it, he has to.

“Yeah.” He says, “well, I was thinking, that, you know, you’re already my – my partner –” he has Kravitz’s full and undivided attention and absolutely will not look him in the eye, “and I’m not… look I was just thinking the other day, there was something that you’d said that had me thinking you were acting weird, after Maggie’s party, and I thought to myself, I thought – you know, two years ago I would’ve been scared by you acting different because I would’ve thought you were gonna leave me or something, but then, the other day, I was thinking that stuff like that doesn’t scare me anymore because you’re not going anywhere. And I know that.”

He can practically feel Kravitz’s eyes burning into his skull and Taako wants to just clip straight into hell.

“I was thinking about that,” he says, heart thundering a thousand beats per second, it feels like, “and I was thinking about you, and how you’re not going anywhere and I-I’m not either.” He’s going to have a fucking heart attack, he just knows it, this is a disaster, “and I thought that maybe – you’d wanna do something about that and… not go anywhere… officially.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and Taako realizes that Kravitz’s hand is clammy in his. Just like their first date, just like he gets when he’s nervous.

And then,

“Taako, are you proposing to me?”

“Call it that and I’m breaking up with you,” Taako says immediately, but he’s squeezing Kravitz’s hand for dear life, and he’s buried his face in his other hand, and he might be a little bit dizzy from how quickly his breaths are coming. He can’t do this, this is insane, what is he –

Kravitz’s other hand takes his wrist, and pulls his hand gently away from his face so Kravitz has him by both hands, and Taako laces his finger’s through Kravitz’s, and maybe Taako’s imagining it, but he thinks he can feel Kravitz’s heart thundering in time to his own.

“Taako,” Kravitz says, all the love in the world wrapped up in the two syllables of his name, and when Taako looks at him, his eyes are shining. He takes a second, just looking at Taako, and Taako thinks maybe he’ll melt under that gaze. Kravitz takes a deep breath, and then he brings Taako’s left hand up, fingers laced with his own, and kisses it.

“Taako, I –” he stops, takes another deep breath. “We don’t have to – call it anything, right now. Not if you don’t want to, but I – I’ve been thinking about… officially not going anywhere for… a while now. And if you would like to… go forward with that… officially, I would be. Well, Taako, it would make me very, very happy.”

Taako thinks he might cry.

“You’ve been thinking about it, too?” he says, a little breathless, a little watery, and shit, maybe he is crying – “were you going to –”

“No. I mean, yes, kind of – but I didn’t know if the timing was right, I – I hadn’t planned anything out yet, but I –” Kravitz closes his eyes, takes a second to collect himself, leans closer across the table and brings Taako closer too. Kravitz’s eyes look huge from where Taako is, and they’re so deep they could go on forever, maybe. Taako’s in love with him.

“You are,” Kravitz says, “the absolute in my life. I am hopelessly in love with you, Taako, and I have known for a while now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Oh gods, Taako’s crying, Taako’s definitely crying, “I want to be with you today and tomorrow and the day after that, and I want all of the bad days and the good days because they are more with you. I feel alive with you, Taako. You are a light in my life and I want, more than anything, to be able to be with you for as long as we have on this earth.

“I want that,” Kravitz says, his eyes wet too, “so much. And I didn’t have a plan for how to say it, officially, and I don’t even need you to answer and we don’t have to do anything differently than we are now if it doesn’t feel right. But. I need to let you know that that is where I stand. With you.”

Taako is one hundred percent indisputably crying, now, and he pulls his right hand out of Kravitz’s grasp and wipes at his eye, hoping that he can somehow salvage the evening from the massive tear-fest it’s quickly descending into. But at the same time Taako also doesn’t really give a single shit. Because Kravitz wants to be with him forever. Kravitz wants to marry him. He didn’t say the words, but he –

“I’m sorry,” Kravitz says, “Taako, I’m sorry, is it too much? I –”

“Don’t you dare,” Taako says, “don’t you fucking dare apologize for that you –” he chokes on his own tongue. “I can’t believe you fucking – stole my goddamn proposal from me –”

“So it was a proposal?” Kravitz asks, teasing.

“Fuck you,” Taako says, and then, because it doesn’t feel right to say that to him right after Kravitz poured his entire heart out, he says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kravitz says.

#taz taako #taz balance #taz #taakitz #taz kravitz #taako taaco #kravitz #taz balance ficlet #desiree: the tumblr sessions #my fic #proposal #modern au #text post

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nekoabiwrites · 5 years

Text

Ultraviolet

I unironically love Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging and its soundtrack. Ultraviolet has been a song I’ve always loved and I had a cool idea for it. This was supposed to be a short fic... but as usual, I managed to get it to a fairly substantial length...

Here’s the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pmqi21YMJP4

AU: School/Teacher AU Parings: Past Prinxiety, Logince Words: 2564 Warnings: Alcohol mention, mention of FWB relationship, kissing, swearing. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Roman is crushing hard on his fellow teacher, Logan. When an old friend appears and sets off Roman’s inner performer, well... things start progressing.

---

Roman sat at one of the round tables, a tall glass swirling beneath his hand. It was full of a sparkling drink that was supposed to mimic something akin to champagne. The school couldn’t possibly provide or condone any of their students being given such drinks, though Roman was 99% sure he’d seen some of the kids around him passing some form of alcohol around. It didn’t matter, these kids were leaving anyway, and this was the last night he’d be in charge of any of them. Plus, it was prom. They deserved to have fun, or whatever.

The music was currently pounding, some new dance song that he’d never heard just blasting through the speakers and most of the kids were out on the dance floor. Roman watched them for a moment, but then his attention was stolen by someone sitting at a table almost directly opposite him and the drama teacher couldn’t help the soft sigh that fell from his mouth.

Even this evening, at a relaxed event, where all the teachers were really expected to do was make sure none of the kids got hurt, the object of his affection was dressed so… seriously. The physics teacher was standing up as straight as ever, his shirt and tie just so perfectly fitted and crisp. Yet, his expression was far softer compared to his usual one when he was in the school building as he chatted with some of the other teachers. He just looked so good, Roman wanted to walk up and kiss the soft smile off of those lips.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ro.”

Roman jumped and turned in his seat to see the person who’d interrupted his thoughts. A soft blush coated his cheeks as he realised who it was, “I didn’t think I said that out loud…”

The giggle from beside him had the drama teacher throwing a playful glare towards the man who’d joined him, “I thought so! But you should probably just tell him how you feel rather than just walking up and kissing him.”

“Patton. Please. You know I can’t tell him that! It would ruin the perfect working relationship we already have!” Roman threw his hands in the air, huffing dramatically.

Patton took a short sip from his own glass before placing it down on the table, “You mean the working relationship that has you both ending up in an argument at least once a day?”

Roman wanted to reply with something snippy but thought better of it. He, instead, looked back over to Logan, watching once more as the teacher conversed. Patton was right; the two of them got on like a dragon and a knight – meaning they fought often and with all the ferocity of such a dynamic. At first, Roman had despised the physics teacher for his high and mighty attitude and the fact that he had an uncanny ability to just appear whenever Roman was about to get something wrong. Logan also seemed to just enjoy correcting the drama teacher, his expression turning smug as Roman was often left getting frustrated at his words.

As time passed though, their arguments turned from something Roman loathed to something he looked forward to. The usual fire behind their words fizzled out over time, replacing their harsh tones with something akin to fondness. They snarked at each other, gave each other withering looks as they passed in the halls, but it was all from a place of friendship or affection, at least in Roman’s case. With each day that slipped by, Roman felt himself falling more and more for Logan and it had gotten pretty bad.

Suddenly, Roman was pulled from his thoughts by a very familiar and specific opening to a song. It was one not many people knew of, at least not anymore. No one else seemed to be paying it much attention, but the drama teacher’s gaze flew around the room for something specific. Then his eyes landed on the DJ, who was staring right at him.

Roman snorted and stood, “I’ll be right back, Pat.”

“Uh, okay?” Patton seemed confused, but Roman didn’t have time to explain, especially as the DJ was tossing around a microphone in his hands.

The drama teacher quickly hopped up onto the short stage to stand beside the DJ, but before he could even get a word in, the man held the mic up and began to sing.

“She's a wave and she is breaking She's a problem to solve.”

During this, the other man held out a second microphone towards Roman. He snatched it out of his hand as quickly as possible, the two of them sharing a look that to outsiders may have seemed a little too flirty between what should have probably been strangers.

Roman, ever the performer however, completely forgot that no one in the room was aware of his past with the DJ and instead joined in the song.

“And in that circle she's making I will always revolve”

A victorious smirk crossed the DJ’s face before both of them sang together.

“And on her sight These eyes depend Invisible and Indivisible”

As they jumped right into the chorus, the two of them continued to flirt. Roman seemed to be following the DJ’s lead, reacting to his advances more than adding his own. Yet, he was clearly enjoying it and was more than used to what was happening as everything seemed almost rehearsed.

“That fire you ignited Good, bad and undecided Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet.”

“Visions so insane Travel unravelling through my brain Cold when I am denied it Your light is ultraviolet Ultraviolet.”

A short musical break started and Roman leaned in close to the DJ in order to be heard over the music, “Why didn’t you tell me, Virgil!?”

“Like I knew it was your school.”

Roman pulled back and pouted, only getting yet another smug look thrown back at him. “Oh, you asked for it.” Before Virgil could think of a response, the handheld mic was back up to the teacher’s mouth.

“Now is a phase and it's changing It's rotating us all”

The drama teacher took a few steps away from the DJ’s stand, his back to his friend. He threw a look back over his shoulder at the next couple of lines though.

“Thought we're safe but we're dangling And it's too far to survive the fall”

Something seemed to take Roman over. This was a song he’d performed multiple times in the past and he still knew the routine he came up with for it. That unconscious part of his performer side must have had something to do with the fact that Roman, without considering where he was or what he was actually about to do, performed a slut drop with a rather slow recovery back up to his standing position. He was filled with a sense of pride as Virgil’s eyes widened significantly and his smirk fell away at the move. Roman then sharply turned back to the DJ, staring directly into the other man’s eyes.

“And this I know It will not bend Invisible and indivisible”

Roman, as the chorus kicked in once more, turned his attention fully to the crowd of students and colleagues before him. He was utterly in his element, loving the feeling of performing solo before them all, and the fact that many of the students seemed to be enjoying themselves alongside him on boosted his confidence.

“That fire you ignited Good, Bad and undecided Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet”

The drama teacher’s eyes were roaming the crowd as he sang, and he managed to accidentally lock eyes with Logan, who’d crossed the room to stand by Patton at some point. Roman held the man’s gaze as though it were a lifeline, as though he was trying to shove the words he was singing into the other’s head, to get him to realise that every single one was being directed at him and was about him. Well, at least now that Roman realised it fit him so well.

“Visions so insane Travel unravelling through my brain Cold when I am denied it Your light is ultraviolet, Ultraviolet”

There was no moment that Roman’s eyes left the other’s. The instrumental played on and Roman managed to coax the other teacher closer to the stage, Logan almost moving in a trance like state. When the instrumental died out, all that could be heard was Roman’s voice, powerful and strong as he sang to the object of his affection. Roman reached out towards Logan and he continued the chorus. He pulled the man up beside him as soon as he had a good grip on his hand, which caused Logan to stumble a little and practically fall into his chest.

“That fire you ignited Good, Bad and undecided”

The physics teacher sharply pulled away, almost ripping his hand from Roman as if he’d been burned, yet both were still to break their eye contact.

“Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet”

Logan was already a step away from Roman, his face visibly red even under the multi-coloured flashing lights that were the only thing illuminating the room. Roman continued to perform, literally acting some of the words out.

“Visions so insane Travel unravelling through my brain Cold when I am denied it Your light is ultraviolet, Ultraviolet”

Once again, Roman’s free hand had a hold of Logan’s, which allowed the drama teacher to get the other to follow him around a little in his performance. It was awkward and uncoordinated as Logan was completely unaware of what was even going to come next, but he ended up laughing his way through it, especially when Roman attempted to spin him into and away from his body during the last, short guitar solo.

“Your light is ultraviolet

Visions so insane Travel unravelling through my brain Cold when I am denied it Your light is ultraviolet, Ultraviolet.”

The song faded into another and the two teachers were left staring at each other once more, this time both of them silent. Virgil, after a moment, reached over Roman’s shoulder to pluck the microphone from his hand.

“You gonna introduce me or what, Princey?”

Roman snapped himself back to reality, “Oh, uh… Virgil, this is Logan Croft, one of the physics teachers. Logan, this is Virgil Crow, an-” The drama teacher practically swallowed the words that were about to leave his mouth. It only took a mere few seconds for him to recover however, “-o-old friend.”

Logan looked Roman up and down suspiciously before reaching out a hand towards Virgil, “Pleasure to meet you.”

Virgil grasped a hold after a moment of consideration, “Same here, I guess.”

There was an air of tension between the two, which had Roman sweating in such a way that would have stage lights jealous. “Well, uh, I suppose we should get back, need to watch over these kids of course!” Roman rambled awkwardly, just wanting to split the two men up as fast as he could. He let out a tense laugh before going to grab Logan’s arm and drag him back down to the table that Patton was still sat at.

The physics teacher was having none of it, however. He easily slipped his arm from Roman’s grasp and stayed put, “So, I assume there is somewhat of a past between you two?” He addressed Virgil, voice perfectly calm.

Virgil let out a short snort, “You could say that.” The DJ gave Roman a once over before smirking as he returned to looking at Logan, “I’m his ‘It’s Complicated’.”

Logan’s head snapped to Roman, who was just a little behind him now, a questioning look on his face. He clearly didn’t quite understand, which had Virgil almost doubling over in laughter. Roman simply sighed and blushed.

He approached the pair and explained, “Virgil and I were in… somewhat of a relationship, a while ago, and it just… sort of stopped one day, though Virgil insists on flirting with me still.”

“That’s a funny way of saying we fucked, Princey.” Virgil’s laughter had stopped so suddenly, allowing him to snarkily respond to Roman’s admission. As Roman spluttered and both of the other men before him blushed darker, Virgil turned and wandered back over to the DJ table, just in time to check in on the next song.

Roman’s head flicked quickly between his old fuckbuddy and his current crush, trying to decide whether to storm up to Virgil and give him a piece of his mind or stay next to Logan and explain things better. During his dilemma, Roman felt a hand gently rest on his arm and he watched as Logan passed him and approached Virgil.

“May I ask you a question?”

The DJ glanced up at him before letting a fond smile cross his lips for the first time, “If you wanted to know if me and Roman are still hooking up, I can tell you that stopped a couple years back. Nothing for you to worry about there, Specs.”

Logan instinctively reached up to adjust his glasses at the nickname. He nodded slowly, “Ah, yes, that was… what I wished to find out. Thank you for your honesty.”

“No problem, lover boy. Just go get him already, the two of you keep staring at each other and it’s painfully obvious.” Virgil turned back to the laptop in front of him, speaking plainly as if he were chatting about something that didn’t concern Logan and Roman’s private life.

Logan opened and closed his mouth a few times before nodding once more. He turned back around and headed over to Roman. The drama teacher went to speak, likely to apologise or to explain himself but Logan simply grabbed a hold of his arm and dragged him to a space away from the curious students.

Once they’d stepped into the dark space beside the stage, Roman continued to babble away about something or other. Logan was still not listening. Instead, he quickly leaned in and pressed a harsh but short kiss to the other’s lips.

Roman fell silent, even as Logan pulled back. He simply stared and blinked.

“I apologise if that was something… unexpected. I was not sure how else to convey the affection I hold for you while you were speaking so rapidly.” Logan flushed and went to take a step away, his gaze falling to the side in embarrassment.

A hand reached out and tilted his head back so Logan was staring at Roman again. The science teacher’s breath caught as he saw the extremely loving look in the other’s eyes. Roman spoke quiet and low, yet it was still loud enough to be heard over the pounding music that was playing behind them, “I’ll admit, it was definitely unexpected. But it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. ...How about you convey it again, but this time I’ll be prepared?”

It was Logan’s turn to be silent and stare. While he’d considered the idea of Roman returning his affections, Logan had not once truly thought it to be possible. But now, here he was, hearing the man before him essentially confess. Logan almost shot forward and recaptured Roman’s lips once more, melting into the contact and letting the negative thoughts float away.

---

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#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Logince #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Creativity Sanders #Logic Sanders #Morality Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Thomas Sanders #School AU #Teacher AU #Song Fic #Ultraviolet

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