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Febuwhump 2022, Black Eye - Summary:
Cor’s expression was dark, borderline threatening as he walked briskly through the school hallways. Teachers and students alike stumbled out of his way, wide-eyed from both fear and awe, seeing the Marshal of the Crownsguard in full uniform. He ignored them. He grit his teeth as irritation crept up his spine. It wouldn’t do him any good to lose his cool, but he had had enough. He was done playing nice.
The secretary called out after him and tried to get him to stop. Her heels clacked on the floor as she rushed after him, her voice rising in pitch, but Cor couldn’t care less as he burst into the principal’s office. The middle-aged man sitting behind the desk paled at the sight of him. Cor was too pissed to feel any satisfaction over it.
“We need to talk,” he said, voice dangerously calm as he stalked over to the desk and placed his hands on it.
OR, Nothing makes Cor Leonis as angry as people mistreating his son. Febuwhump day 17, alt. prompt "Black Eye"
Read on AO3 or below the cut
Cor’s expression was dark, borderline threatening as he walked briskly through the school hallways. Teachers and students alike stumbled out of his way, wide-eyed from both fear and awe, seeing the Marshal of the Crownsguard in full uniform. He ignored them. He grit his teeth as irritation crept up his spine. It wouldn’t do him any good to lose his cool, but he had had enough. He was done playing nice.
The secretary called out after him and tried to get him to stop. Her heels clacked on the floor as she rushed after him, her voice rising in pitch, but Cor couldn’t care less as he burst into the principal’s office. The middle-aged man sitting behind the desk paled at the sight of him. Cor was too pissed to feel any satisfaction over it.
“We need to talk,” he said, voice dangerously calm as he stalked over to the desk and placed his hands on it.
“Mr. Leonis!” the principal yelped. “What– what brings you here today?”
“It is Marshal Leonis to you,” Cor said. He waited until the man repeated it with a shaky nod before continuing. “I’m here to inform you that Prompto Leonis won’t be coming back to this school. His transfer papers have already been processed and approved, your secretary should receive the papers momentarily.”
The man’s mouth opened but Cor cut him off before a single word could come out.
“I have also reported you to the local authorities, and you and the school will be investigated for mistreatment of students as well as various other infractions. I will not allow you to continue to bring harm to any child with your despicable actions.”
With that he turned around and headed for the door.
“Marshal!” the principal exclaimed. “What–”
Cor’s eyes flashed dangerously as he looked over his shoulder. “No. I am done listening. My son has been hurt by your downright malicious actions far too many times. If he decides to sue you, I will wholeheartedly support him.”
Then he slammed the door shut behind him.
He kept his composure until he got into his car and sat in the driver’s seat, but at that point, his anger surged. He punched the steering wheel. His knuckles twinged with pain. A sharp, hissed exhale left his lips and he closed his eyes. He knew he had to get back to Prompto – wanted to get back to him – as soon as possible, but it wouldn’t do either of them any good if he went there tense from anger.
The whole situation infuriated him. School was supposed to be a safe place. The laws and regulations had changed for the better ever since Regis had taken the throne, but somehow this had slipped through the cracks without anyone noticing until now. Xenophobic and racist bigots had no place being in charge of children’s education. Cor was angry, both at the school but also at himself. It was his job to keep Prompto safe, to make sure he got to grow up happy and healthy with no threat of violence and abuse. Yet, he had completely failed him this time.
Cor carded his fingers through his short hair. He still remembered the baby that had been hooked up to all those machines with tubes running in and out of his small body, but who had been so trusting and sweet, even as Cor had panicked about caring for someone so young and fragile. He had made the promise to protect him until the end of days, and it was the one promise he had intended to keep. And he had failed.
Punching the car into drive, Cor pulled out of the parking lot. He took the long way home in an attempt to clear his mind and rid himself of the anger pulsing beneath his skin. It was mostly successful, but left him feeling almost sad. Prompto deserved so much better, too good and pure for their world. Cor stopped at a corner store near their home, making sure to grab Prompto’s favorite treats and even a small blue chocobo keychain they had near the checkout. It wouldn’t make everything better, but maybe, just maybe, it would bring a smile to Prompto’s lips and brighten his day a little. Cor didn’t know what he would do if he returned home to see him as heartbroken and scared as he had been when Cor had left him in Monica’s care earlier.
When he arrived at home and pulled into the driveway, Monica came out to greet him on the porch.
“How is he?” Cor asked.
“He’s doing fine, Cor. He’s a strong kid.” Monica gave him a smile. “How did it go?”
“I made it clear to them that Prompto won’t be coming back and that there will be an investigation regarding their actions,” Cor told her. One corner of his lips quirked up at the look on Monica’s face. “And, no, I didn’t punch or stab anyone.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Monica said as she stepped to the side and motioned towards the door. “You should go see Prompto, he’s waiting for you.”
Cor nodded. “Thanks for looking after him.”
“He’s a good kid,” Monica told him. She walked down the steps and started making her way towards her car. “Also, if he brings up a pay raise, it was all his idea!”
Cor huffed in amusement as he waved her off. “Drive safe.”
“I will!”
Cor waited until she got to her car before turning around and heading inside. He toed off his shoes and discarded his jacket to the side. “Prom, where are you?”
“In the living room!” Prompto called out. He sounded much better than he had when Cor had left, not nearly as upset.
Cor smiled softly as he walked into the living room and spotted Prompto on the couch, all wrapped up in a blanket with his favorite plushie in his arms. “Hey, bud, how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” Prompto shrugged as Cor sat down next to him. The bruises on his face were dark and ugly, standing out against his naturally pale skin. At least his eye hadn’t swollen shut despite the bruising. Cor made a mental note to have Prompto keep icing it regularly to make sure the swelling wouldn’t get worse.
Prompto licked his lips and dropped his gaze down when he noticed Cor looking at him. “It doesn’t really hurt or anything anymore. Aunt Monica made me take a few painkillers.”
“That’s good,” Cor murmured as he tugged the teen to his side. Prompto came willingly and leaned against his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore, okay? I got you transferred into the same school with Prince Noctis.”
Prompto pushed back with one hand on Cor’s chest. “Really? With Noct?”
“Yeah,” Cor nodded and gently poked his arm. “But that doesn’t mean you get to slack off with your studies, young man. School work will still need to get done.”
Prompto let out a laugh and smacked Cor’s hand away before snuggling back close to him. “Yes, dad.”
“Good.” Cor couldn’t help but smile. He had always hated it when Prompto was upset, so to hear him laugh again felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He ruffled Prompto’s hair and absentmindedly wondered if he would be able to convince him to go get his hair cut sometime soon. The kid really was starting to look like an actual chocobo now. “I stopped at the store on my way back.”
“Oh?” Prompto tilted his head to look up at him.
Cor nodded and pulled two packs of snacks from the armiger. “I got these, and wondered if a certain someone would be interested in them.”
“Treats!” Prompto exclaimed and reached for them immediately. “Yes, this certain someone is very interested in them. Gimme!”
Cor let him snatch the snacks from him and watched him tear into them before pulling out the chocobo keychain and dangling it in front of him. “What about this? Think you can give this little guy a home?”
Prompto squealed, his eyes widening as he grabbed it and cradled it carefully in his hands. “It’s so cute! Dad, thank you! I love it!”
Cor chuckled softly and drew him into a hug. Prompto was an amazing kid, and he had a feeling they were going to be just fine. “I’m glad you like it.”
Heyo! Am loving your bthb so far! Please could I ask for Prompto being used as bait for papa Cor?? Love your writing, it feels so intense!
Thank you! I’m glad you like it :3
Love this prompt, and it took me way too long to get done cause I started uni and stuff, but I hope you still enjoy it
BTHB #5- Used as Bait
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis, Nyx Ulric (very, very briefly)
Whumpee: Prompto Argentum
Word count: 3563
Warnings: kidnapping, some descriptions of injury and blood
This can also be found on ao3
The first thing Prompto notices when he wakes up is that he's cold. He wonders for a little bit why his room is so cold, and why the bed is so uncomfortable, and then it all comes crashing back. He's not in his bed, not in his room. He's still in the dirty, clammy cellar room he was thrown into and fell asleep in. Prompto groans and sits up straight, wincing slightly at the throbbing pain in his temple. He lifts his hand carefully to check, and sure enough there's blood on it when he takes it back down. A gift from one of the captors, and an unpleasant reminder of yesterday's events. Or maybe yesterday. Prompto assumes it was yesterday but isn't entirely sure how long he's been sleeping or how long he's really been locked in the room- it must've been hours at the very least. A lump forms heavily in Prompto's throat at the thought. He wants to go home.
With considerable effort he swallows the lump back down and stands up. He takes to circling around the small room, partly to see if- against the odds- there could be some way to get out and partly to distract himself from the horrible pit in his stomach. As expected, there isn’t anything useful. The only windows are too high on the wall to reach and boarded shut, so that’s no help, and any tools one would normally expect to find in a basement must have been removed beforehand because Prompto can’t find any at all. He’s about to move over to the hatch in the roof, seemingly the only way in and out, when his wandering is interrupted by sudden noise from the other side. Someone fumbles for a moment with the lock, and then the hatch creaks as it’s lifted up and a heavy pair of boots appear.
Prompto stops dead in his tracks. Then, when the man is so far down the staircase that his face is visible, Prompto recognises him as one of the ones who grabbed him yesterday and something swirling and uncomfortable rises in him. Their eyes meet, and Prompto takes a subconscious step back.
"Come here." The man’s voice rings through the small room. A twinge of irritation is already present in it at Prompto’s retreat, but Prompto doesn't move to comply with his order for another few seconds. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near the man if he can avoid it, but a dangerous twitch near the man’s eyes makes it clear refusal isn’t really an option. Prompto takes some reluctant steps forward, feeling like he’s walking towards the gallows. When only a few feet separate the two of them, the man reaches forward and yanks Prompto closer with a vice like grip around his arm. He begins walking back up the stairs almost immediately, giving Prompto no time to recover his balance before being dragged along. They reach the top of the staircase and Prompto is almost certain the grip on his arm will leave some nasty bruises as the man drags him through a hallway and into a different room.
In this new room, plenty more faces greet them. There's a group of five men lounging around the room on various couches and chairs with the man who seems to be the one in charge sitting near the centre of the room. All eyes go to Prompto when he's shoved forward into the room, and it makes the skin on his back crawl. He recognises a few of the men from yesterday, but some are completely new to him. What strikes him though is that all of the men, even the ones he has never met before, are eyeing him with weird knowing looks and smiles. It rubs him entirely the wrong way. Prompto doesn't realise he has stopped at first, not until a harsh shove from the man behind sends him stumbling forward. He braces himself, but still lands hard on his knees on the floor.
Behind him, the man who had shoved him says in a loud mocking voice. "If you're good now we might even let you see your daddy during the meet-up."
Prompto's eyes widen slightly, and his heart jumps in his chest. Cor was coming? Then he feels a bit dumb for wondering, of course Cor was coming for him. However, he doesn't quite get to feel relieved at that before the room explodes in snickers and laughs at the remark. It's like they're laughing at a joke he's not in on yet or laughing at his expense. At Cor's expense. Prompto's eyes dart around the room until the man closest to him, having seen his questioning expression, leans in to talk. Almost immediately Prompto's previous assumption that this is the man in charge is reinforced. At his movement, the others go quiet and look to him expectantly.
"Yes boy, we are going to go see The Marshal soon," He begins, drawing out every word carefully, "or rather he is coming to us." At this last part his eyes glint with something Prompto can't quite put his finger on and his stomach churns.
"And I, for one, have waited for a long time to see him again." Someone else chimes in from the side. Prompto recognises him especially as the one behind the gift staining his hair and the side of his head red. There’s something crude in the man’s wide smile, and he cracks his knuckles as if to further drive in his statement. Prompto’s mind races, and the sudden worry must be apparent on his face because the men suddenly chuckle again.
"He could take you on easily-" Prompto blurts out so fast he nearly trips over his own words before cutting himself off. It’s partly in an attempt to reassure himself that his dad will be fine, and partly an attempt to disprove those shit-eating grins the men all have on while talking about Cor. Prompto didn't think before saying it, and now the air in the room is changing drastically.
"Maybe so, under normal circumstances." says the leader nonchalantly, to spread mumbling from the men sitting around him. His mouth spreads into a mocking smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and then he lunges out. Prompto flinches but has nowhere to go as the man grips his face and drags him to his feet with him. "but we've found a pressure point of his."
Prompto's breath hitches, and his heart beats hard in his chest. The man is taller than he had expected, digging his fingers painfully into Prompto's face and forcing him to stand on his tip toes. The man keeps talking, quieter now, and his face is so close that his breath brushes against Prompto's face. "If he wants to ensure your safety, he won't resist too much." Prompto's eyes widen at this. He doesn't want to be the reason his dad could get hurt, but it hits him hard now that if anything happens to Cor it will be because of him. His fault. He lets out a breathless 'no', to which the man laughs. "Oh yes, and you are making this so much easier for us."
The man is then distracted by someone else approaching from the side and telling him something quietly. The two of them have a whispered conversation that Prompto can't make out more than a few words of. His mind is reeling, and he can't seem to focus on what's going on around him. The man's pseudo praise settles heavily and uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Then he's ripped away from his tumultuous thoughts and gasps loudly when he feels himself being shoved back and the hand gripping his face disappears. He stumbles backwards, struggling for a moment before regaining his balance.
"Let's go then." The man says, no longer directing his words at Prompto. He shoots him only a mocking smile before gesturing to the men around. "Load him up."
On cue and before Prompto has any time to react, strong arms grab hold of him from behind, keeping him still as three of the other men in the room close in around him. The leader hangs back, watching and waiting. Cold dread rises in Prompto’s chest as his eyes dart around the closing circle. The closest approaching man reaches out towards him, and in a split-second decision Prompto jerks back. His arms tense up as he rips away from the one holding him. There's no real plan to his resistance and Prompto knows well that he has no realistic way to escape on his own, but he can't let himself be taken along quietly now. Used to lure his dad into an obvious trap set for him, he doesn't want it. So despite there not really being anywhere for him to go, Prompto backs away as fast as he can. Adrenaline and fear rushes in his ears so he can't quite concentrate on the commotion now breaking out in the room. Multiple of the other men in the room have rushed to grab him and are talking over each other.
Prompto feels himself being shoved and dragged by many more unwelcome hands, but his own struggling is intensifying too. He kicks and pushes away desperate not to let anyone get the upper hand on him, but it doesn't take long before he's overpowered and unceremoniously brought down. He hits the floor so hard it takes his breath away, and immediately strong arms pin him down. Prompto doesn't even know which of the men is holding him until he looks up again and is met with the face of the man from earlier, the same one who had brought him into the room, now twisted in anger. Still running on fear-fuelled energy, Prompto squirms and struggles in the hold. Somehow, he manages to twist himself over on the side, unbalancing the man and giving himself some leeway. He has only just started crawling away when he hears a loud curse from behind and feels a fistful of his hear gripped painfully tight.
"Shouldn't have done that." says the man. Then he pushes down with terrifying strength, slamming Prompto's head into the hard floor. Prompto's eyes water and he hears himself cry out in shock and pain. Something warm gushes from his nose and down his face, dripping and staining the floor red.
"Someone tie him!" another voice says, and Prompto doesn't recognise it. Too dazed to fight it, Prompto only winces as his wrists are brought together behind his back and something tightens around them. Then he's being moved, hauled back onto his feet, and held up by strong grips on his upper arms. Without them Prompto thinks he would have fallen. Again, there is speaking around him, and someone enters his blurry field of vision with some kind of object in their hand. He's not sure what it is at first, not until the person is close enough to grab his jaw tightly and the previously undefinable object is brought closer.
"Nn- no-" he tries to protest when the gag is forced in his mouth, but it comes out as more of a soft whimper than anything else. The cloth is rough and unpleasant in Prompto's mouth and he tries to spit it back out, unsuccessfully. At a sudden new gesture from the leader, still standing back and enjoying the show, they're on their way. Prompto stumbles along, and on their way the two lock eyes. Through the haze and tears Prompto can see that he's smiling.
The way out of the building is a fogged and confusing affair for Prompto after that. It's almost like he's a passenger in his own body, feeling himself being dragged along and hearing the men talk among themselves as if it's far away. His head hurts, and he's vaguely aware there's still blood running from his nose. The sudden change in temperature when they step outside catches Prompto off guard, it's cold and dark and he shudders involuntarily, but it does help clear his head just a little bit. The area they're in is seemingly deserted and in the dark Prompto doesn't recognise it. It might not be too far away from the safety and familiarity of the city, he muses in a half-hearted attempt at making himself feel better, but deep down he knows he's not that lucky. Then he's pushed along, and when he straightens his head and looks forward again, he finds something he definitely doesrecognise. Though he's not sure if that makes it any better.
The dark cars with black tinted windows are exactly the ones he was brought here in, and those aren't exactly pleasant memories. Prompto’s breath hitches through the bloodied gag. He knows what’s coming and braces himself to be stuffed into the, regrettably very familiar, trunk of the closest car. The men are anything but kind and gentle with their handling, and Prompto thinks he’s sure to have gotten a number of new bruises by the time he’s been situated in the trunk. The door slams shut, causing him to wince, and Prompto is left in the cramped darkness.
For a moment all Prompto hears is his own laboured breathing, then the engine starts, and a steady rumbling fills the trunk instead. They're on their way now and Prompto is so tired. He wants Cor, wants his dad. He can almost trick himself into being happy that wherever they're going now Cor will also be, but with that thought comes the fear and the guilt again. He had been momentarily spared from these feelings earlier, distracted from them by the altercation and the bleeding nose. But now there isn’t anything left to distract him, and though everything above his shoulders still throbs painfully, the worries return with full force. The car passes a particularly bumpy part of the road- or maybe they’re off-road even- and Prompto groans. His shoulders aren’t enjoying the strained position they’re in and scream out in protest at every bump and sharp turn. If he can change his position just a little bit, Prompto thinks, he might be able to relieve the pressure a bit. Okay no, bad idea he finds soon enough. The less stable position combined with the rough ground proves disastrous as Prompto’s head for the second time that evening slams into the hard surface beneath him. His eyes go wide as the throbbing pain intensifies and he bites down hard on the cloth in his mouth.
At some point Prompto might have passed out because he can’t remember most of the drive. He doesn’t even fully realise the car has stopped, not until someone on the outside bangs their fist against the trunk hard. Prompto flinches at the noise and makes a choked terrified sound. He half expects the trunk’s door to be opened and for rough hands to drag him out of the car. So he braces for it, but that’s not what happens.
"You’ve been so helpful Prompto," sounds the familiar voice of the group’s leader. "now be a good boy and wait here ‘till we’ve dealt with dear daddy."
The taunting tone is impossible to miss, and Prompto can just imagine the sneering grin on the man’s face. There’s muffled laughing from the other men also apparently outside and then the voices gradually get more and more faint, and Prompto is left to his lonesome. He’s in disbelief. They’re not even letting him see his dad? Then the panic sets in, it surges in his chest and grips around his heart tightly. Cor is coming for him. He’s going to come trying to find Prompto, and Prompto won’t even be there.
He has to get out. He has to. The trunk seems smaller all of a sudden, the darkness pressing in on him from every direction. And the gag isn’t helping Prompto’s already rapid breathing either. He thinks he can hear voices again, but they’re too faint for him to make out who it is or what they’re saying. Then a bark of a laugh that he most definitely does recognise rings out, and Prompto’s mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario. A small, terrified squeal slips out of him. Despite the aches of his body Prompto squirms and struggles against the restraints. They might be zip ties, he thinks hazily through the panic, but he’s not entirely sure. Cor taught him a trick for getting out of zip ties once and Prompto desperately tries it, but either he doesn’t remember it correctly or there isn’t enough room to do it in the trunk. Regardless, the ties only dig deeper into the skin at his wrists when he struggles against them.
A gunshot rings out through the night. The sound catches Prompto off guard and he flinches, momentarily stopping his struggling. Then there are more gunshots, and faint yelling. The sounds of a fight, he realises. Prompto isn’t sure how long it keeps going, but he listens in captivated horror. In his head are gruesome visions of what could be going on right this moment. Prompto is still listening, breath coming in ragged gasps through the gag when a different set of sounds stand out from the rest. Are they- footsteps? Yes, multiple pairs of footsteps and hushed whispering. His heart makes a jump in his chest. He’s convinced it’s the men from before coming back, but then he hears a different voice, one he knows well, and his eyes widen.
Prompto tries to yell through the gag, though he’s not sure how well that can be heard, and he kicks against the sides of the trunk. He has to let them know where he is, has to warn them. The familiar voice is back, closer now.
"Shit- Cor here!"
And Prompto thinks he could cry, or maybe he already is. To be honest he’s not sure whether what’s running down his face is blood or tears or both anymore. There’s swearing from outside, and some fumbling with the trunk’s door before it finally cracks open.
Prompto recognises his dad instantly, even from the dark silhouette alone. He yells again through the gag, and strains to get closer to his dad. Cor on his end lets out a soft curse at the sight of his son, and he wastes no time leaning in and gently pulling him closer. Cor helps him sit up in the trunk, and it makes Prompto’s head spin. Then the gag is removed and Prompto heaves, the metallic taste of blood still in his mouth.
"Dad you have to leave-" Prompto hasn’t even gotten his breath back properly before he starts talking, but he has to tell Cor. His dad’s brows furrow.
"Prompto, wha-"
"Please- they’re going to- it’s a trap- I-" Prompto can’t breathe. Tears pool in his eyes. His dad swims in and out of focus, but he keeps a secure grip on Prompto’s shoulders.
"No- Prompto it’s-"
"Please Dad- please-"
Cor pulls him into a tight hug, and Prompto’s breath hitches. The words seem to be stuck in his throat now. He’s shaking, but the hug feels so nice. It’s warm and safe. A sob bubbles up Prompto’s throat, and when he speaks it’s barely more than a whisper.
"I’m so sorry-"
"Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay." Cor cuts him off. His voice is soft and gentle in a way Prompto has rarely heard before. He buries his face into Cor’s chest, ignoring the pain it causes and the blood stains he’s sure to be leaving on his dad’s clothes. "Don’t worry about those guys, we got them. Okay, don’t worry." There’s something strained to Cor’s voice when he mentions the men, but otherwise he keeps his voice low and reassuring, and Prompto nods quietly in response.
"Nyx, we need those off." Is what his dad says next, gesturing with his head towards the zip ties on Prompto’s wrists. Cor would do it himself, but his own hands are busy rubbing soft circles on Prompto’s back. And Nyx doesn’t need to be asked twice, he’s already working on removing the ties. As soon as they snap off Prompto lets out a relieved sigh. His arms feel so heavy now, but he brings them up to grab a secure hold of Cor’s jacket. Even when Cor carefully loosens the hug and retreats to get a better look at Prompto’s various injuries, Prompto doesn’t let go of his jacket. He finds he can’t. Because his dad is there and he’s okay, and Prompto is so tired now. Feeling the jacket’s fabric in his hands grounds him.
Cor’s expression darkens upon taking in the bruising on Prompto’s arms and the blood on his face. It makes Prompto feel abashed all of a sudden, and he’s made acutely aware of how much trouble this whole thing must have caused.
"I’m sorry." Prompto mumbles again. To which Cor shakes his head.
"You’re okay." He says, shaking Prompto’s shoulders ever so slightly as if to really get through to him. "We’re going to get you checked out, and then we’re going home. You’re okay." His eyes are so intently staring at Prompto’s and his voice is so genuine and soft. Finally, Prompto believes him when he says it, and the last bit of tension in his body ebbs out.
I said I really wanted to draw this, anddddd I did. Miracle of miracles. I love the iCarly meme! I guess Papa!Cor is a fanon thing but I love it alot so yeah I’ll make some content. WELCOME TO INSOMNIA, PROMPTO~
Cor, pre-Prompto: "I have never eaten anything nutritious in my life." Clarus, having witnessed his coffee, cup noodle, orange juice cabinets: *sighing* "We all know this Cor, and we wonder how you're still alive daily." Cor, with Prompto: "Would you like a triple veggie and cheese omlet before we go?" Clarus: "Did I walk into the wrong house-" Regis, stuffing his mouth: "Can I get anoffer?"
Long ago I received a couple asks with a similar scenario (you radiate the same vibe, anon! Are you the same person? YOU CUPCAKE <3), and I’m still not over it. It just sounds SO MUCH LIKE COR
Cor, the idiot that’s always like “eh” about his own life, like not caring, surviving on Cup Noodles because “it works just fine” and “everything comes out as poop anyway how bad can it be”. Simple...overly simple Cor not really in the mindset to cook.
With only 1 pair of shoes, 1 pair of socks, 1 pair of everything. THE SIMPLEST MAN ON EARTH.Overly simple Cor boy living off cup noodles, pre-made food, and his beloved microwave that does things for him.
SUDDENLY GETS BABY.
I imagine Cor having a bit of a SO MUCH PANIC HE CAN ONLY FREEZE moment while staring intensely at Prompto but nowhere at all at the same time because
HE JUST REALIZED
25 YEARS INTO BEING ON THIS PLANET
THAT MAYBE
MAYBE CUP NOODLES AREN’T BABY FOOD, ARE THEY????
Sunshine Bebe arrives to Papa’s life, changes it completely.
Cor rushed to emtpy his cupboards like FUCKING THROW IT ALL AWAY, TAKE EVERYTHING AND TOSS IT OUT, TOSS THOSE FROZEN WAFFLES TOSS THOSE CUP NOODLES TOSS THOSE PRE-MADE PLASTIC FOOD, NONE OF THIS, BABY CAN GET CLOSE TO NONE OF THIS IT’S NOT HEALTHY FOR HIM BABY NEEDS TO-
“Hey Cor and why are you doing this only now for the baby and never for yourse-”
“IT’S NOT THE S A ME RE GIS”
So there is papa Cor absoLUTELY FUCKING DESTROYING EVERYTHING THAT HE USED TO BE TO MAKE THE HEALTHIEST MOST PRETTIEST ENVIRONMENT POSSIBLE FOR BEBE
“Hey Cor but you didn’t need to throw your soups away, you could eat those while baby gets the healthy fo-”
“aND HOW. ¿¿¿ !! AM I GOING ?? TO BE A ROLE MODEL FOR HIM ANY DAY HM??? ANGEL NEEDS A ROLE MODEL PAPA, SO FUCKING BUCKLE UP I’M GOING TO BE THE MOST FUCKING MOTHERFUCKING HEALTHIEST DAD IN THE WORLD SO HE’S TWICE THE HEALTHIER, BEBE NEEDS IT”
And hence, as one of those old asks said, Cor goes into EVERY COOKING CLASS OF INSOMNIA that he finds. Like. EVERY ONE OF THEM. He got into fucking ROYAL MASTER COOKING CLASS SO HE CAN MAKE A ROYAL GOLDEN CAVIAR A LA ROY DU LEON IF HE FREAKING HECCKING GODDAMN NEEDS TO FOR HIS SON
Because Cor
He just. He loves PrompTO SO M U C H
“Hey dad can I have some cereal please”
“HERE YOU GO, EXTRA NUTRITIOUS STEAK WITH RICE WITH BITS OF CARROT AND PEAS, YUMMY BEANS HERE, LETTUCE AND ONION AND TOMATO HERE, AND A SMILEY POTATO-MAN WITH A HAT, DO YOU NEED ANYTHING ELSE DARLING PLS TELL ME, I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY AND HEALTHY PLS TELL ME YOU’RE HAPPY AND HEALTHY”
And y’all wonder just WHY Prommy’s such a sunshine boi, the sweetie.
