UVFan

Bruce had been investigating a strange noise at Wayne Enterprises when the click proceeded a flash of light. He woke up in a tube, aliens from a species he doesn't recognize had processed him in a what felt like a few hours.

He'd demanded answers until one of the aliens seemingly got annoyed and shocked him until he was barely conscious.

The worst part of the journey was the day his captors had excitedly flipped him and started pumping some sort of thick liquid into his pussy. They stuffed him til his stomach was stretched to the limit. They poked and prodded him, emptying and filling him through his orifices for hours.

It wasn't exactly subtle what was happening. He was grabbed by slavers, aliens who took species from undeveloped worlds and sold them for various reasons, from food to labor to personal slaves.

The fact Bruce was theoretically capable of carrying a child...

Am almost male human looking behemoth was currently leaning over him. He was...attractive. Bruce blushes deeply as the being studies his pussy seemingly asking permission from the slavers before gently prodding him with a single, very big finger.

Bruce is tested for a few minutes - how tight he is, how well he responds to the stimulation.

Bruce is implanted with a neural chip for tracking, punishment, language translation, and containment. The only major body mods his new master orders are the artificial activation of his lactation, and specific enhancements for his orifices, mostly for his health and safety, but apparently also to keep him from leaking anything.

He's partially paralyzed as his new Master loads him in to the vehicle. Finally he's being directly addressed. "I am Kal, head of the House of El. You will adress me as Master or Sir. What is your name?"

Bruce swallows the protests and begging. Perhaps if he ingratiates himself then maybe Kal will let him go. "Bruce. Bruce Wayne....Sir."

He seems pleased at least. "I'm not a sadist Bruce. If you are obedient, you will be mostly comfortable in my service. If you do earn a punishment, it will never be excessive. Further, I'm not inclined to sell you should it come to that. Should I no longer have need or desire, you will be painlessly euthanized."

Kal is looking at Bruce as he slides into the vehicle. Bruce watches as he opens his pants and exposes...a fucking monster. Kal repositions him to be pressed into the erection, breathing in the ozone and honey scent but not forced to do anything or able to get away. Rules are being established in the background as a curious tickle ripples through Bruce's mind.

Hesitantly Bruce touches the tip of his tongue to the soft skin of Kal's massive balls, the sweet, almost herbal notes unexpectedly pleasant. He justifies that he should get used to this, so he laps at the delicious flavor again. Something warm and wet drips against his cheek, a thick thumb running through it and pressing it to his lips. He takes the thumb into his mouth, swirling it clean and savoring the slightly nutty, strongly herbal flavor.

Maybe not surprising, but he isn't going to get his own room. There's a floor bed in the corner for when Kal doesn't want him in his bed, but otherwise he'll be spending the nights with his master.

It leaves an imprint of his being as he walks, drawing closer and closer to the shore, where the waves lap and lick the earth.

His beloved sits just barely where the sea foam touches him, staring despondently into the distance. Where monsters and gods alike thrive, where the mortals roam the lands, laughing, living, loving.

He stops a few metres away and looks at where the sea expands into nothing but a mass of azure.

"Someone has come for you," he announces, crossing his arms as the gaping maw in his stomach widens.

The winds blow a bit harder, shaking the leaves of the coconut trees around them.

"They said they're here." He swallows, looking at his feet instead, where the sand has found solace in the spaces between his toes, "They're here to talk you away."

The man straightens up from where he sits, and the gust of wind that blows by combs his long black hair back, revealing a covered yet still prominent jaw, clenched tightly and a pair of sea-blue eyes suddenly renewed.

They sparkle beneath the late morning sun. And for a moment, his breath is caught. His lover is beautiful, with his sun-kissed skin and soft hair, facial hair that simply enhances the ruggedness of his countenance. His body chiselled through hard work and labour, a wit as sharp as a blade, an aim as true as the wind.

And he hates it.

"They said that they're here to save you." He turns then, angry, and loath as he is to admit, heart broken. "Because you're not mine, supposedly."

There's a rustle that breaks through the calming sound of the water coming up the shore, and soon, his lover passes by him, their shoulders don't even touch.

He starts following a a distance away, making their way to the other part of the island where the Messenger awaits with a boat and bag strapped around his waist.

"Ah!" He calls with a coo, "Kal! I've been waiting for you--wait," the Messenger tilts his head, eyes roving up and down the other man's figure, before letting out a whistle, "Well, damn, what has happened to you?"

"20 years gone from my wide." He rasps out, throat like gravel from barely speaking.

He and Kal hadn't spoken ever since he screamed the Goddess, Diana's name in one delirious moment of wary and cognizant state days ago.

"Right," the Messenger nods, "Well, just hop on and I can lead you out of here."

The swirling pit in his stomach suddenly clenched up, tightening up and locking his body, as he blurts out, "Wait--"

Kal pauses half-way toward the awaiting boat. The Messenger is, unfortunately, gracious enough to look away and fiddle with the, frankly rough, raft he'd brought with him.

Then, Kal turns back to him. His hair is in a bit of disarray, the darkness beneath his eyes and the way his cheeks have sunken a bit is a frighteningly haunting thing to witness.

Was this what his lover looked like all this time? Had he been so blinded? But, no!

He gave Kal a paradise, free of burden, of age, of sickness and famine! Kal is lucky to have washed ashore on his island. Kal should be grateful he decided to take him in, in the first place!

"I--" He swallows, his nape is warm, but not due to the sun above them, but the gurgling emotions trying to rip out of his throat, "You are unlike any man I have ever known." He manages to croak out, haltingly, yes, but it's the one thing needed for him to get started.

"Well, you're the only man I know. And I--" He tightens his hold on his own arms, digs his nails down into the flesh and muscle there, "I apologise. I understand that it's quite overdue, however, I may have realised that I haven't been the most... Accepting of hosts.

"I hope you've seen my advances as sincere, as I truly do--" A hiccup escapes, and it takes him a few seconds to notice the wetness streaking down his cheeks.

When he takes a breath in through his mouth, it comes in stuttered and broken, quivering the lungs inside his chest.

"I love you, Kal. For you are the man among men, and I wish I had met you much earlier."

Kal's silence is a deafening thing, "This is a fact, and I have no care if you hate me for it."

His beloved takes a step forward then, hand outstretched to touch him, and instinctively, he takes a step back as he breathes in shakily.

Kal's eyebrows are scrunched, there's a saddened pout to his lips, and he almost looks... Remorseful.

"Alexander--"

"Let me speak," clearing his throat, he tells his first memory.

Of washing ashore on an unknown island, of never seeing a boat or ship pass by, of watching the sun rise and sun set, of hearing the birds caw and chirp, of the fruits the grow yet never seem to run out.

Of simply looking out into the horizon, and until suddenly, he never grew past the age of what he is today.

Of learning and discovering his sudden godhood. Of realising that no matter how many times he tries, he will never be able to leave an island that has wrapped its shackles on him.

But then--"You washed ashore, one day. Unconscious and in need of assistance. No man, no person has ever stepped foot on my island before. Never found my island--except for you.

"I nursed you to health, I nursed you until you were able to wake, and every day and night I spent by your side, you would say his name.

"You call out to him as if there's nothing else you need.

"Meanwhile, I gave you every thing I could! I gave you food, a shelter, safety! I gave you my heart, and you could barely sleep a night by my side!" He screams, throat hoarse and raw, "What does Bruce have that I don't, Kal! What!"

Kal's looks at him, meets his gaze steadily. "My heart, Alexander. That's what Bruce has."

Gritting his teeth, he races forward, hands planting themselves onto Kal's chest with a shove. It barely moves the man, body simply swaying with the move as he's forced to stumble backward from his own momentum. "I hate you, Kal."

"I love you," whatever speech he had to say next dies on his tongue, eyes growing wide with the confession, Kal looks down, reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze, "I love you, Alexander. Just, not in the way that you want me to."

Immediately, he snatches his hand back. The meeting of skin to skin rings in the silence, unable to be drowned out by the passing winds. His palm tingles with warmth, both of Kal's and the friction of it.

There's a flushed mark, subtle but there that blooms on the man's cheek, half of it hidden by the scruff of his beard.

"I hate you, I hate you." He hiccups, tears flowing, it paints his cheeks in large streaks. "You know nothing of the sacrifice I had to make, you know nothing of life, and you know nothing of what others feel, of what love is.

"You are nothing but a monster and I wish you never washed up on my shore."

Kal bows his head then, the darkness of his hair hiding away his features. "Farewell, Alexander."

"You will never set foot on my island, do you hear me!? I curse you, Kal-El! I curse your entire bloodline." Kal sets onto the boat, as the Messenger starts pushing the boat away from the shore.

Kal is a nature as he readily arranges the sail to catch the breeze, letting it take him away as the waves push him away.

I hate you!" He stops just before the water touches him, just before the water burns, just before the water rejects him. "I hate you and you will find me ever again!"

"You will never know what paradise is! Never!"

Air leaves him as he sinks unto the sand, it itches along his skin and the droplets of water that touch him burns.

But it's better than the ache that Kal has left his chest in. It's better than knowing that the best man he's ever known is someone else's. It's better than the simple fact that Kal has never loved him and will never reciprocate it, no matter how long he'd confined Kal to his island alone.

It's better than knowing that he will never be loved.

"I have a paradise," Kal mumbles, refusing to turn around as he's taken farther and farther away. The shackles that had kept him are free.

The tightness that surrounds him whenever he tried to leave the island have disappeared.

The illusion broken as he spots the vague shape of a rocky section of the sea somewhere in the distance.

"What's that?" The Messenger asks, sitting by the edge of the boat and looking down into the water. "You say something?"

"Nothing," he answers, feeling a smile tug at his lips, "I can finally go home."

"Uh, yes. Well--" The Messenger presents a familiar bag, "This bag was incredibly hard to procure, mind you. And you're not exactly free from Poseidon's wrath as of yet."

And that news alone doesn't deter him. To see his wife? His son? He'll do anything he needs to.

God, I remember when Yandere Simulator was the biggest thing on youtube. Feels like yesterday but it was ages ago!

But back to the superbat.

Clark is sent to a private school, meets Bruce and is instantly obsessed.

Poor Bruce has no intention to date other students, but the moment they ask him on a date(and a lot of them do because he is Bruce Wayne after all), they become a target.

And no one ever suspects Clark, because he's such a nice and kind kid.

That name become some sort of a curse to Bruce, and he's afraid to tell Alfred because Alfred is the only one left from the 'happy family' he used to had, so he can't disappoint him.

Not anymore.

Not when he has steeled himself to change for the better, to pick up what's left of his family legacy.

So he's happy, that at least there's someone left who still stay by his side when no one does, the Kansas guy who got here through Wayne Foundation's scholarship.

Clark Kent.

Always nice, well-kept despite the fact that his shabby uniform has taken many abuse from multiple bullying tricks other kids have pulled, has this everlasting smile on his face whenever Bruce is in his vicinity. He's from a farmer family in rural Kansas, and seems like he has never understand the sarcastic comment mocking his family is not in fact a compliment, making anyone who tries that trick left huffing.

(Whitney, one of the 'top girls', cornered Clark during recess. She talked with this sickening, saccharine tone, subtly insulting Clark, "Say, Kansas, you used to live in a farm, right? How's your house? Do you have your own room or do you still sleep in your mama's bed?"

"Who the fuck sleep in their parent's bed until 13?" Her other girl laughed, "Or do you sleep in the barn?"

"Eww! Wouldn't it smell like cow? Cow shit? Have you ever smell like cow shit, Kent?"

"Do you know that you smell like cow shit?"

Clark Kent, the naive guy that he is, just confusedly smiled to the bombarded vicious questions and instead answered that 'no, the house is big enough that they have two guest room on top of his and his parent's room', and 'yes, he does sometimes have a sleepover in the barn' and another 'no, the barn he sleep on doesn't smell like cow shit because the farm is big enough that they have two separate barn and no barn smell like cow shit because they're regularly cleaned'.

The girls were pissed and left after some nonsensical, shallow insult hurled at Kent who just smile sheepishly and then went about his way.

Whitney later confessed to Bruce at lunch in the gym and practically begged with crocodile tears when he politely refused, going on and on and on about how they're gonna look so perfect together; the 'top girl' and 'top guy' of the school become a couple. Bruce managed to runaway 15 minutes before lunch ends because Kent came to the gym with P.E. teacher, talking about some scholarship he can get for college.

Bruce never seen Whitney again after that; her body was found stiff under her bed in the dorm the days later, neck broken and eyes gouged out.)

As more and more people avoids him, Bruce finds himself quietly grateful that at the very least someone wants to sit with him at lunch.

Ironic, really.

Because despite the cheerful and friendly approach of his, deep down Bruce feel like it's faked.

Maybe Kent did it because he doesn't wanna risk losing his scholarship, maintaining their relationship solely to preserve his future. Maybe he did it because if he's with Wayne, he won't get bullied—afterall, no one has touched Bruce this far despite the on going rumors and investigation.

Well. What's important is he's not truly alone, and Alfred won't have to fret over and getting concerned all over again.

But nonetheless, cold, rotten corpses keep appearing across the campus vicinity, and all ties pointing to Bruce.

Lovely Mary-Anne who kept showing Bruce new sketches she made of him. The twin Axel and Alex, crowding and showering him with small gift of trinkets. The middle-aged Mr. Augustus of whom Bruce uncomfortable with because he was touchy in all the creepy way. Sweet old cleaning lady who reminds him of his late mother. And the most recent one, the young and ambitious detective from the police who secretly snuck into the school, only to be found the next morning sprawled on top of the boy's dorm roof, blood drained and tongue cut.

All of them was so nice to Bruce, and they're all dead.

Just like his parents.

He can no longer cover his anxiety and paranoia from Alfred's ever-perceptive eyes and thus, the butler decides it's time to withdraw Bruce from the, quoted, "bloody cursed school," moving him somewhere much safer.

Bruce doesn't even get to bid his friends—not that he has many left, most of them cut ties quickly after the first body was found—farewell because Alfred storms to his dorm room, immediately assist him to pack his bag. He does hugs Kent, though; the poor boy bawling his eyes, all red-cheeked and glasses fogging with tears constantly streaming from his too-blue eyes.

And so Bruce left him his handkerchief to wipe away his tears, and pray for Kent's safety amidst this murder madness.

What Bruce doesn't know is, it was the sweet, unassuming Kansas boy that did it.

Clark tried, oh he tried so hard to be close to the Wayne's last heir, to be seen by the Prince of Gotham. He thought maybe if he acts pitiful enough, Wayne will feel sorry for him, maybe coming to save him like a knight on a white horse—the rich and powerful relish in those kind of feelings, and who is Wayne if not the most influential family in this city?

Wayne didn't come to save him.

He didn't do anything except a long stare when he thought Clark doesn't notice, those stormy eyes kept locking its gaze to him—and Clark savored the attentions of it.

So he kept waiting and smiling and pretending, even though all he wanted to do was to put his fists through these entitled little shit's heads. And his patience snapped when one of those people shyly walk up to his Bruce as if they bear no sins, and ask him out.

Oh?

No.

That won't do.

That—

Clark saw red.

His very first victim was his two years senior in a quarterback jacket whose name he forgot, neck snapped as if it was a twig in Clark's hand just. Like. That. After the fog of rage that clouded his mind cleared, he decided to left the body under the bleachers. Not even two days later the body was found, and somehow Bruce Wayne is in the suspect list.

And he wasn't caught—not even a soul think he was worth suspicion for.

Clark felt horrified. But not until he realized how easy it is to approach Bruce without all those pests surrounding him. And the more lonely Bruce got, the more he would open up, willingly telling a story of his family, the most he's seen Bruce ever talked to someone.

He was beyond happy, and he intended to enjoy it for as long as he could.

So off Clark went, getting rid of any obstacle blocking his way, pushing Bruce further into isolation as the murders drove people away from his Bruce. But then Bruce's butler comes to take him away and he cries, a hollow dread clawing in his chest.

He can't let Bruce go.

Not like this, not when he had done so much to get this close.

As the warmth of Bruce's hug left his body, Clark stares blankly at Bruce's back, silently promising that he will finds him.

grooms his kids and critters or purrs idk

freaks his kids out or maybe angst if they found out much later

idk where you u could go w this, no pressure up to u

Cat. He's a Maine Coone, deadly black, judgemental eyes, huge, covered in floof. Everyone expects the usual pissy cat behaviour.

Tim: What? So you want me to solve crimes gayly??11/1/1!?!?!

Bruce: ... Tim: ... Bruce: ... Tim: Ok.

Bruce: ?????

Tim:

Bruce: ??

But I want them to hesitate

I want them to admit to themselves "he's human" and still double check, because they're not entirely sure if that's right

I want the JL to be anxious when there's dark corners,I want them to look twice when he does a move that they aren't entirely sure is humanly possible,I want them to file him inside their minds as "Human(?)" because they aren't sure he told them the truth

I want the criminals of Gotham to understand fundamentally that he's a human being,but also keep the lights on before going to sleep because they are afraid he'll come to them,I want them to be so afraid of him that he haunts them physiologically,I want the Penguin to double check lock doors,I want Bane sleeping with his lights on because he will come if it's down.

They know he's human,but they hesitate

Because Batman is bigger than the human that makes him,he's fear embody,no other human could be Batman because Bruce makes even gods rethink their words.

And he knows it,and finds it hilarious, because if him dressed as his biggest fear made grown men sleep with the lights on,then his mission is working just like it's supposed to.

Everyone doubts he's a real human,but no he's not a cryptid he's just weird like that

(mostly cuz Bernard knows Tim is a vigilante and also knows that the bats would prob save them pretty fucking quick and also they're from Gotham, they prob deal with this shit every week.)

T.W: Lowkey nsfw ig????

Kidnapper: Listen here, if you two don't listen to me, I rip your fucking skin out with this device (holds up some sort of device)

Tim (who slowly glanced at Bernard): ...

Bernard (who was already looking at Tim): ...

Tim (with a straight face): Bet you 50 $ it just vibrates.

Bernard (equally as serious): Bet you my entire batch of pastries that it's also from a sketchy adult store.

Kidnapper: What the fuck- It's a torture device not a-

Tim: Yeah, sure, buddy, what's that rounded top supposed to be for?

Bernard (clearly enjoying this too much): Shoving up your ass.

Spoiler (who was hidden in the ceiling and was trying to rescue them, now fighting for her life to join in on the bet cause she's so sure that the 'torture' device probably has a silicon tip): ....

-----

Bernard (tied up and trying to get free, except he's wearing a short-sleeved shirt and his arm muscles are slightly flexing against the rope): Dammit.

Tim (tied up across from Bernard, high-key hypnotised by his boyfriend's arms): ...

Kidnapper (walks between them to begin speaking): Now listen here, you both are gonna be held for ransom- Do what we say and you won't ge-

Tim (uses his bound feet to poke at the Kidnapper): Move out of the way, you're blocking my view.

Kidnapper (highkey confused cause the wayne isn't taking the kidnapping thing seriously): Shut up! If another word comes out of your mouth, I can't promise I'll return you unharmed.

Tim (clearly still looking at Bernard's arms): ...

Kidnapper (kinda pissed off): What the actual fuck-

Bernard (glances at Tim and realises what he's actually looking at, so he winks at him, cause why not): ...

Tim (closes his eyes): God, this is starting to feel like foreplay-

Bernard (with a raised eyebrow and deadly serious): Starting?

Kidnapper (exaggerated): Oh my fucking god- I don't even want them anymore-

-----

Bernard (picks up his phone and looks shocked as random kidnappers livestream Tim's kidnapping to his close friends and family): Oh no- Tim (bloody and bruised as he glances at the camera and forces through his teeth): Wha... what-

One of the kidnappers: Now... How does it feel Mr Drake? Having your suffering broadcast to all of your family and loved ones?

Bernard (frantically getting ready cause he doesn't give a fuck if the bats are gonna save Tim; he's gonna be there too): ...

That Kidnapper (smug as he leans down to Tim's level on the ground): What do you have to say for yourself?

Tim (without missing a breath): My boyfriend can choke me better than you people.

Bernard (jaw-struck and 100% sure that Tim's gonna return more smug but more messed up and trying not to be flattered that even while Tim is kidnapped, he is thinking about him): ...

Nightwing (who was supposed to save Tim, now kinda wondering if he should leave Tim to lowkey take a few more hits before he actually rescues him): ...

-🧜‍♂️

WHAT A WAY TO FIND OUT

Hal, actually so genuinely excited he's about to get down and dirty with THE Bruce Thomas Wayne, he can't fucking wait to brag to Barry about this, his mouth is so soft and warm and divine and — MOTHERFUCKER NOT THE WATCH BEEPING. Justice League more like Cuckstice League!!! Leave Hal alone, DAMN!!!

Meanwhile Bruce, who spotted this cocky little test pilot across the room, canNOT leave here today without knowing what he sounds like in the throes of ecstasy. His body is so firm and slim in all the right places, and — aww FUCK. Not right now, JL!!!! For once, he does NOT want an excuse to ditch this gala!!!

Both men pull back with equal sour expressions and glance at their watches, preparing to apologize and pardon themselves from this little tryst. Only for Bruce to recognize the subtle League designs on the band of Hal's wristwatch, and for Hal to spot the same exact thing.

They look at their watches. They look at each other. The cogs are turning. The tension is crazy-thick.

"I'm, uh. Gonna assume you know that I gotta rush to the closest inoperable phone booth," says Hal.

Bruce sighs. "I'm gonna assume you know that I'm going to follow suit immediately after."

"....cool. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcool...I'm on the League with Brucie fucking Wayne. Cool. Great. Cool... Um, please don't be Superman."

Okay, this is going to sound so fucking weird (like I'm not already), but I like doing Lex Luthor x Bruce Wayne- OKAY HERE ME OUT! PUT YOUR PITCHFORKS AWAY FOR A MINUTE! HEAR ME OUT!

Unlike what Lex expected to happen, he doesn't in fact, just toss aside Brucie Wayne like a used rag.

Unfortunately for Lex Luthor, he begins to crave for Bruce Wayne. Having had a taste of the man once, whether it be by chance or not, Lex would find himself waking up in the middle of the night because he dreamt of those soft, plump lips again. Because he dreamt he could feel pale, smooth skin with the brush of his fingers, and the way his silky hair felt in his palm when he tugged and pulled on them was far too realistic for a dream.

The sign:

Bruce:

Ya ever get so excited at the prospect of holding someone’s hand that years of deductive reasoning flies out the window for like a hot minute.