Bycket



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    "Were you aware that LuthorCorp was using Wayne technology in their illegal weapons programs?"

    For the first time, Bruce looked genuinely surprised. "Those contracts were terminated."

    "When? Before or after Luthor's crimes became public?"

    Bruce was quiet for a long moment, his fingers drumming against the arm of his chair. "I'd have to check with our legal department about the specific timeline."

    "So you don't know?"

    Bruce was silent.


    Gotham's drowning, Batman's bleeding, and a nosy reporter won't stop asking why.

    Three years after the flood, a rot festers, born from the stragglers of Riddler's movement.

    The Sons of Gotham, neo-Nazis with mysteriously deep pockets, rise from the grime. Bruce bleeds for a city that keeps sinking.

    Enter Clark Kent: infuriatingly earnest, maddeningly handsome, and asking questions Bruce can't answer.

    When threats grow too big for one city, Batman reluctantly teams up with Superman. Saving Gotham wasn't hard.

    Letting someone help? Letting someone in? Easier said than done.


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    15 Jun 2026

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    Bruce's thighs clamp down as Clark squeezes him, the fabric of their clothes shifting together as he doesn't let Clark move away for a single moment. Lifting Bruce by his hips, Clark pushes forward again as if he's fucking him.

    "Good puppy," Bruce groans, voice light and airy.

    They both freeze, almost immediately.

    The word seems to echo in the sudden silence, but Clark's mind is entirely blank.

    "I—apologize," Bruce says, breathless. "I lost myself for a moment."

    "Puppy?" Clark asks, light-headed.

    Heat has rushed through him, up and down, and he would have lost his footing if not for how Bruce has gathered himself in Clark's arms just to feel him as they dry humped. His mind keeps replaying it, over and over until the heat nearly burns. Puppy.

    He liked it. He liked it a lot.

    ---

    Or, Bruce Wayne is fifty-six compared to Clark's twenty years. It's an accident they met tonight. They fall into bed together, anyway, virgin!Clark all too happy to be lost under Bruce's spell.

    Especially if that means Bruce will train him to be his perfect little pet.

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    14 Jun 2026

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    So, it didn’t start out like this.

     

    Alfred would scoff at the statement, about how Bruce was trying to justify the whole situation to himself. It had started out as a simple design, black everything with black outlines and black hood. It got a little more intense as the world went on, got wind of his ghost on the streets, and became scared of The Bat . So Bruce got a little more creative with it, Alfred and him had a good laugh over the name, the scare, and Alfred had a vicious streak of humor that he had passed onto his ward-

     

    So now the suit had a visible bat-theme, an insignia to drape in the shadows and to paint across the streets of Gotham.

     

    It only took a year into the whole charade of heroism for Bruce to overhear a conversation between some goons- some low level thug hired by the Riddler this week- about nothing at all pertaining to what the hell the Riddler was doing in the sewers but instead:

    “ The Batman can fly, you know, I’ve seen his wings.”

    --

    A world where nobody has wings, but people think they do, and that changes everything.

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    14 Jun 2026

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    The Eridian thrills a high sound that doesn’t get picked up by the translator which means that it has no clear meaning. Like when a human gasps or sucks in a deep breath. It actually sounds a little like that. When they notice that I’m staring straight at them they scramble back into their hiding spot and hold very still. 

    A child, I realize with a start.

    That’s a child! 

    “Hey,” I call and the kid squeaks again. I was about to get to my feet but abort the movement and crawl closer on my hands and knees until I'm inches away from the xenonite wall. I wait and it takes me much too long to realize that they don’t have to peek around the corner to see if I’m still there.

    “Hey there,” I try again, my voice low and calm. It’s my teacher voice, the one I use for shy and scared students. 

    Used. 

    The fact that I haven’t had to use it for years and it still comes to me automatically almost knocks the air out of my lungs but this is not about me, it’s about making sure the little pebble doesn’t die of fright from the scary alien. “Hi, I’m Grace. It’s alright, you don’t have to be scared.”

    ***
    How Grace finally gets back into a classroom, where he belongs

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    12 Jun 2026

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    "But Grace have sex in crew quarters sometimes."

    "That's not— you shouldn't—" Grace shakes his head. He knows Rocky doesn't mean to make him uncomfortable. Heck, Grace's biggest problem at the moment is that the knowledge of Rocky watching him doesn't make him uncomfortable. Not in the way it probably should. "It's not really sex. Since I'm by myself when I…" he trails off and hopes that's the end of it.

    "Rocky is here when Grace have not-sex."

    "No, I mean—" Grace sighs and tries not to pull out his hair. "It's only me. Touching myself. You don't touch me."

    Rocky sinks back on his hind legs and goes quiet in a way that Grace recognizes as careful thought. Stony fingers click together and drum against the aluminum composite flooring. When Rocky speaks next Grace nearly falls off his stool.

    "Grace let Rocky touch, question?"

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    12 Jun 2026