dad can you do maybe a moment in the taegi mafia au where taehyung is being fluffy with either jimin or jungkook please
“Okay Jimin, what are you supposed to do if something bad happens at school?”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he squats to lock eyes with the little boy in front of him. It’d been months and months of training the small orange haired seven year old child for his first day of second grade. It’d be a lie if the mafia boss said he wasn’t even just a tiny bit nervous, though he knew he would have to prepare for this day eventually. It was just another part that came with having children. No matter how much Taehyung wished his precious sons would stay small forever.
The mafia boss finds himself smiling as Jimin quickly stands straight up the same way he’d seen some of the men in the gang do when they talked to Taehyung. It was a sight to see really, Jimin was so small yet so cutely in control of himself as he tried to be tougher than he looked. Taehyung often found himself holding back chuckles at his adorable son.
“Minnie is supposed to find the nearest cleared exit and get himself and Jungkookie to Hoseokkie or Jongdae hyung as fast and careful as possible!”
For a moment there’s nothing but pride running through Taehyung at how quick the little boy remembered what he’d been taught.
“And if someone tries to grab you?”
Jimin frowns, clearly trying to remember the drills Taehyung had been pushing into his head.
“OH! Minnie is supposed to poke his fingers into their eyes or bite them and run away with Jungkookie as soon as there is an opening!”
“Good boy.” Taehyung grins as he pulls his son closer to himself into a tight hug. “What’s daddy’s last but very very important rule?”
At this Jimin giggles and presses his lips to Taehyung’s cheek. The little boy squeals happily as he showers the mafia boss in wet loud smooches that make Taehyung buzz with a love he could only ever have for his sons. He never would have thought one day he’d be here. Never once in his entire fucked up life had Taehyung thought his heart would be so full of nothing but pure adoration and love for HIS children.
Taehyung feels his entire world spin for the tiny boy in his arms as Jimin holds his cheeks in his tiny hands and very seriously speaks.
“Daddy’s very very important rule is make sure Minnie and Jungkookie never leave for school without giving daddy and papa kisses!”
Recently I have been working on my latest annual project and
in treatment so art has not been something I have been posting or doing much
of. Complete illustrations anyways. So when I got inspired I jumped on the opportunity
for a full piece so I can post it.
Dns, the youngest of ten ras’kai, the heirs to the thrones
of Breek and Kroniks. Each of them named after months in the Molamola calendar,
Dns being a summer month. He was coloured as his father, spring green eyes and
coppery hair, tail and pattern. However, he will not be a monarch as the eldest
girl was made to lead Kroniks and the eldest boy to lead Breek. He was the baby
that never got to know his parents.
He was raised by his siblings, they all eventually growing
up and moving off as he remained with his eldest sister and her child. He was his
siblings responsibility as his parent knew they could be claimed by the pek’nee’ei
, which they eventually were before he was even weaned. In some ways he was
lucky as it is hard to feel loss of something you never knew you had, but he
felt alone sometimes when saw other children with parents and when eldest
sister was off tending to her child and the nation. He had a hole in his being
somewhere, a desire to be seen yet to a fear of having anyone to close. Trimming
and adorning his vessel instead of tending and filling it, he would slowly
wither once he left home.
He left for his apprenticeship at the Urula City Players, a
famous theater and performing arts school. He loved making music and dancing in
spite of the hard words of his peers. The schools in kroniks were small due to
a small local population, but Urula was big, and full of possibilities. He worked
hard and was admired, but not before his vessel gave out just as his dreams acquired.
His family getting together to see what the innocent baby had become; an
unstable, emaciated, bedazzled, jerk with wicked musical ability. But in Molamola
broken things are fixed, and a soul with a hole and vessel hardly holding that soul
must be fixed, filled, restored and loved. His damages and origin may never
leave his side, but he will receive it as a grand gift to continue on, even if
at first he stubbornly refuses.