SO, I made my own tragic legendary sea cookie since that seems to be the theme for devsis in between comms-
Beneath the dark, forgotten waves of the west sea, amongst a once bustling and colorful coral forest is it's sleepy monarch; Grand Reef Cookie. A jolly, yet strangely complaisant individual who spends his frail, doddering years tending to the decaying remains of his children's once proud homeland.
They have all left, of course. Some more hesitant than others to leave their loving father's side. But, Grand Reef Cookie was insistent of their retreat. That, unlike him, they were not bound to their namesake in soul and body. That the ocean held much more plentiful and vibrant sights that were not to be wasted fretting over a forgotten relic of the past.
That doesn't stop many from visiting though... Bringing with them trinkets and offerings to help alleviate his wistful loneliness.
But, unlike some of his children, Grand Reef doesn't harbor any resentment for cookies. It's just not in his nature to harbor any hatred for... Well, anything, really. A reef is meant to be a nurturing and peaceful place for even the most ruthless apex predator, to be unwelcoming and unkind to even one creature would go against his very nature.
________
Why be a betrayed and/or volatile tragic, when you can be a sweet, hospice patient kind of tragic? That, and sea pollution and global warming tragic, I mean it's right there-
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Bakugou asks you to join him during one of his photoshoots for a pro hero campaign. he doesn’t understand the point of it, nor why he has to only be in his underwear, but he doesn’t mind it much when he gets to look over to your shy little face.
you’re propped up in a corner on an old couch, laptop perched in your lap, its glare bright despite the way you never really look at it. you’re supposed to be catching up on some work, but you’ve been distracted by the glorious sight that is the love of your life.
when he looks at you, do you duck down, eyes suddenly focused on your screen again. it only makes him smile a little, step away from the assistant of the photographer who comes up to him, calls out your name.
“Huh?” your head whips up with a quickness neither of you expect, goes to show just how invested you really were with your work. but Bakugou only grins at you now, jerking his chin over to you as he grabs the bottle of oil the assistant was trying to pour over him.
“C’mere and gimme a hand, won’t ya?” he asks you, boyish smile gracing his face as he tilts his head at you. immediately, your face warms as you put together the request that’s suddenly dropped in your lap. everyone in the studio looks at you, with both envious and excited gazes, and it only makes you shrink in on yourself.
“I hate you.” you mutter under your breath when you finally rise up from your place on the couch, which he somehow hears. but Bakugou only laughs at you, grabs you by the waist when you’re close enough to kiss you breathless in front of everybody, before he’s handing off the oil to you.
“Such an attention whore,” you whisper when you’re close, the air between the two of you thick. everyone tries to look away, give you guys a bit of privacy, but it’s hard when such a soft and amused look passes over the usually rough and hardened hero’s face.
“Only for your attention.” he grunts back to you, holding his arms out for you to start dripping the oil down his skin. it’s a sensual gesture, the softness between you two sliding into something more, something that you only ever reserve for the bedroom.
you tip the bottle over his shoulders until it drips down his chest, massaging it all in with your hands in crude, circular motions. you can see the way he bites his lip, ignore the way he looks at you down the bridge of his nose lest you two create a scene not meant for the public eye. you gather more oil, warm it between your palms, kneeling in front of him to help massage it into the defined muscles of his stomach.
you ignore the twitch in front of you, swallowing thickly, glancing up to Bakugou who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet. you mouth at him to behave, but he only grins, something feral.
“We only need it above the waistband.” the photographer suddenly calls out, snapping you back to attention. you stand on shaky knees, nodding with your eyes casted low, ashamed, that your freak of a man had you doing something so…so—
“Go wait in my dressing room, yeah?” Bakugou asks you, pulling you in close to peck at the corner of your mouth. “Gonna wrap this shit up.” he promises you, and you can only nod silently, mind going a mile a minute. but before you go, you remember to grab the oil. just in case.
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original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
scene 1
table of contents
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scene 2: tim’s arch nemesis
“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Alfred wished, as they all got out of the car.
“Later, Alfred.” Duke waved as the car left the drop off zone.
The three of them walked together until Tim remembered the conversation from Bruce’s study. He peered over his shoulder at Damian who was trying to act nonchalant as he ditched the principal's office. Tim turned and stopped right in front of Damian ``Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” Sneaky little plans for a sneaky little kid, huh.
“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes at being caught
Tim smirked at him, the words hillbilly civilians echoing in his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?”
“I was just on my way.” Damian said, trying to seem unbothered as he walked away.
“Y’know one of these days he’s gonna snap and finally murder you.” Duke mused next to him, before they split into their separate hallways.
“Better people than him have tried.” They shared a small laugh. Finding his usual seat in homeroom, Tim scrolled through his phone until class started.
At the bell Ms. Kross stepped to the teacher’s podium to start the daily announcements. “Hello class, happy Wednesday.” She smiled at them, “You’re all chipper as usual,” she commented humorously to herself at the silent audience. “Well today is the day I’m sure all of you have been waiting anxiously for. Before I announce everyone’s placements after the midterms, I just want to remind you all that grades only matter so much in the grand scheme of things, and if you did not score as well as you would’ve liked, there's still time to do better.” Ms. Kross gave them the yearly pep talk, as the system booted.
Tim had been attending Gotham Academy since the first grade, and he was familiar with the ins and outs of the system now, as opposed to the many students that often filtered in and out of the Academy. Gotham Academy is one of the best schools on this side of the coast and many affluent families would send their kids here. So naturally the Academy was incredibly competitive and so much as one point could move you from 5th place to 50th.
The competitive atmosphere of Gotham Academy had never been too hard of a burden on Tim’s shoulder. Since grade 3 Tim has easily been placed first in his grade without so much as a sweat, no matter the amount of Robin, or Red Robin responsibilities on his shoulders. Knowing this year would be no different, Tim let his chair lean back leisurely as his other classmates sat forward in anticipation.
“With no further ado, this year’s first place as for now is Daniel Fenton.” Yup, just like every other- Wait.
“What?” Tim asked, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor hard. Tim looked at the screen in disbelief, only to have his suspicions confirmed.
“Mr. Drake, is there a problem?” Mr. Kross asked, surprised.
“Are you sure this is right?” Tim asked incredulously pointing an accusing finger at the screen, there's no way that he- Timothy Drake - placed second?
“Yes, Mr. Drake, I assure you this sheet has been double, triple, even quadruple checked. There are no errors.” Ms. Kross smiled exasperatedly.
Ms. Kross continued down the list of names in the class, announcing their places but Tim wasn’t paying attention. Tim glared at the spreadsheet at the front of the class, waiting for it to correct itself. But no changes were made. The name placed at the top of the list had been burned into Tim’s skull.
Who the fuck is Daniel James Fenton?
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Bonus:
Bruce waited his turn in the pick up line, ready to see his kids' surprise when they found out that he came to pick them up instead of Alfred. When it was finally his turn to pull up to the curb he smiled happily as Tim, Damian and Duke entered the car.
“Surprise.” Bruce smiled at them.
“Oh, Bruce. Alfred didn’t come today?” Duke asked with a smile.
“Nope!” He said driving into the street. “Since it’s just us today, how about we go grab ice cream?” Bruce offered, looking at his passengers in the rearview mirror.
“Ooh ice cream after school!” Duke cheered.
“I could appreciate some ice cream.” Damian nodded from his seat.
“Oh how did meeting Daniel go today, Damian?” Bruce remembered.
“It was fine. Daniel is not entirely despicable.” Bruce blinked in surprise, Damian seemed to have taken a great liking to the kid if he was already calling him by his first name, especially on day one. “Not entirely despicable” and “it was fine” in Damian-speak usually meant that he had had a phenomenal time.
“That’s great, buddy.” Bruce turned to tell him when he stopped at a red light. “Duke, how was your Chemistry Test?”
“It went okay, I think. We’ll just have to wait till the results come out, I guess.” Duke shrugged.
Bruce nodded at the information. He was doing a good job. Engage, Assess, Appreciate. That’s what Dick had said.
Tim. There was something today, he had mentioned it offhandedly. What was it? Right! The placement release.
“Tim, how did your-”
“Shut up.” Tim seethed from the back seat. Bruce saw the irritation radiating off of him and decided that today, nor any day, would he be ready to deal with that.
“Ok.”
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