Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Palace of Woe, Pleasure Quarters of Lady Darkseid

    “Hahahahaha! Did you see the look on that idiot’s face?” the blonde haired queen roars, sitting up in her massive, expansive bed as she points right at the yellow tube of energy that rolled in waves through the air. It was odd to the uninitiated, but to her? Simply another facet of her life.

The viewing tubes, an offshoot creation from the Boom Tubes, similar anomalies that allowed the forces of Apokolips to travel through the vastness of space. The viewing tubes, while similar, were different in their function though, and instead of allowing one to physically travel through it, let you instead look through it and ‘view’ things, hence the term Viewing Tube.

The added bonus to this was that you weren’t only limited to what was currently happening at any given moment. The Viewing Tubes allowed the one doing the viewing to look back through time, to any event that had already occurred. Not forward though, never forward.

Why was this? Not even the top scientists, which Kara didn’t put much stock in anyways, could figure it out. They’d only created the device, and only by accident to boot. They had not the slightest idea how it worked. Regardless, it was enjoyable for the goddess who ruled over Apokolips, and she spent much of her time simply laying in her bed and watching it.

At that moment her back was propped up against a horde of pillows, the woman who had felled entire planets and decimated species enjoying above all the luxury of soft comfort. The blankets that adorned the bed were all red in color and embroidered with the symbol of the once proud House of El of Krypton.

She laid, as was also usual for her, naked atop it, her large and proud breasts on full display though her womanhood remained hidden due to how she laid upon her side, legs crossed over one another.

Her euphoric outburst had interrupted the ministrations of one of her Korugarian servants, who kneeled upon the bed clad in only a loincloth, the rest of her body naked as was to be demanded of all servants who entered her quarters.

She’d been using a warm cloth, imbued with the calming and enchanting aroma of the Liliakar Bush’s leaves over her queen’s thighs, an effort being made to soothe her.

She instantly returned to it as the woman leaned back against the pillows again, settling into her previously restful position.

“Ahh…By Apokolips. I have to say that was funny, really, really funny. Not bad at all for a human” she muses, resting the side of her head upon her hand which was supported in turn on her elbow.

The Eye Box, the equivalent of the Mother Box that summoned the Boom Tubes, was at her side, ready to switch and turn to whatever time and place in this so-called Gotham City she wished to see was.

But she doesn’t focus on that, and instead turns her head and slowly opens her mouth, a clear sign for the other Korugarian servant who also kneeled upon the bed that she was to attend to her duties. She reaches into the basket with her hand and grasps up an item, a small round fruit that was picked from the orchards of Apokolips itself.

Despite the harsh, unforgiving nature of the landscape, fruit did bloom here.

It was very sweet as a matter of fact. Possibly due to how much blood seeped into the ground from those who grew, cultivated and grew it. Being sent into the Fields of Labor was one of the worst possible assignments one could receive, a task delegated only to those that Lady Darkseid found abhorrent, loathsome and worthy of such a fate. Death was guaranteed, and all because Kara thought that the bloodshed made the fruit sweeter.

None could be sure on Apokolips.

She was the only one allowed to taste of the fruit, the aptly titled Slave’s Tears, red and round berries that the blonde eagerly welcomed into her mouth now, the servant dropping one upon her tongue. Instantly Lady Darkseid closes her mouth and begins to chew, closing her eyes and moaning in ecstasy.

“Yes…the crop this year? It’s really, really good”.

The servant wisely says nothing, and instead watches how Kara turns her eyes back onto the View Tube, watching as the man who had been pointed out to her by Harriet fights. If she read the interface on the View Box correctly, this had occurred at least four years prior, and it showed the strangely garbed man, with ears and a mask, fighting against another man who was equally strangely garbed.

He looked sort of like a knight out of medieval times, with a steel visor and a strange mix of armor over his body. He even held a sword, a large great sword that must’ve taken an impressive amount of strength to yield.

“No! No! Stay back!”

And yet, even with this impressive weapon he held back, obviously frightened of the man who stood before him in kevlar with a shotgun in his hand. Prometheus, the View Box made her aware, was the name of the unfortunate foe who had tried to square off against the Batman.

An impressive man with an impressive repertoire of skills. 

He’d felled numerous opponents across the Earth, honing his abilities until he was near perfect. He was fast, a computer implanted into his brain speeding up his reactions and giving him the ability to assess threats in real time. He’d apparently come to Gotham for a challenge, hearing about the mysterious Batman who had put so many criminals to flight.

And yet he was finding that he was more than a challenge.

He was a threat to his very life.

The whirring and quick calculations of his supercomputer weren’t enough, the synapses not firing quickly enough to reach his muscles and coordinate a strike. Batman was too wily of an opponent, too unpredictable. The computer couldn’t come up with an effective counter to him. This led to Prometheus, who was not used to being outmatched, reacting rashly.

He raised his sword and tried to get an angle on the fast moving armored man, wishing to cleave him in half with the weapon that had taken the lives of dozens.

His computer ran the simulation and quickly calculated an eighty percent chance of success. Batman was close, the vigilante being a very up close and personal fighter, which was supposed to have left him vulnerable. But it hadn’t, and even then Prometheus was failing to see the bigger picture. 

How the muzzle of the shotgun, a Mossberg five hundred, was brought up to the exposed lower portion of his chin, the part not covered by armor of his strange, medieval mask. The hardened steel pushes past his lips, cutting them up and causing the coppery taste of blood to fill his mouth, teeth chipping and breaking at the force the Batman used in shoving it forward, the shotgun acting as some sort of spear within his mind.

In those last seconds, those few last desperate seconds that the shocked Prometheus had upon that Earth, his supercomputer ran one last final calculation. 

Zero percent chance of survival.

BLAM!

His helmet didn’t help him at all as hundreds of little pieces of shrapnel from the shotgun blast echo through his mouth, tearing up the inner portions of his cheek and completely and utterly destroying his tongue, leaving not even a stump in its place.

Teeth, bone and jaw went too, and the entire roof of the man’s mouth was burst upwards, the blast continuing on and causing his face to disappear in a blood red mist. The computer he’d had implanted into his mind all those years ago was also destroyed, right alongside his brain.

Surprisingly? His helmet didn’t break apart nor rupture, the steel it was made from apparently being of much sterner material than the man’s organic parts, and it served as some sort of receptacle for the flesh and gore.

It sank lower on his shoulders of course, the fact that the head holding it up was no longer truly there and was instead reduced to sludge that would have to be scraped out of the interior. The sword he held aloft drops as well, clattering to the floor beneath him as his arms fall to the side.

Like a waterfall blood comes gushing out of the lower portion of the helmet, cascading down the man’s chest plate and obscuring the gaudy, stupid symbol of a simple P ingrained into the steel.

Batman yanks the shotgun back forcibly, bringing with it tendrils of bloody flesh that cling to the muzzle, undoubtedly now in need of a deep cleaning. He holds the gun and watches as the body somehow stands still and upright, all brain function having ceased and yet still defiantly, remains there.

It only lasts a few more seconds though, and in no time at all the body collapses backwards, slamming onto the floor.

CLINK! CLINK! CLIIIINNNNKKK!

Prometheus’ helmet falls away, rolling off towards the rear of the building atop which they had decided to join battle, bringing with it a trail of blood and gray matter that leaks from it as it rolls away. At that point however a major pool of blood begins to form from the stump that was now the man’s neck, portions of his spinal cord now hanging down it, dangling and spewing out the man’s life blood.

He was dead, and without all that much effort on Batman’s part, the vigilante just slid the shotgun into the sling that existed at his back for the purpose of holding the weapon.

“Hmmm…”

She muses to herself aloud as she brings her finger to her lips, pondering over what she had just seen. ‘Wasn’t nearly as funny as when he shoved that grenade in that begging rapist’s mouth’ she thinks, remembering what had made her laugh aloud.

This kill, while impressive and indicative of a great skill, also showed her something else.

It was quick, lacking the flair of his earlier kills, the one’s he’d made when he had only just started out as Batman. Kara Zor-El had learned quite a bit about the man known as Bruce Wayne. Why he did what he did, how he set about doing it, and the methods he used when he really got to work.

She’d practically watched his entire life pass by up until this point.

She’d seen him that day in the alley, and watched how he reacted, training his body and sculpting it via a workout regiment that would put even the most dedicated of Olympians to shame. Kara wouldn’t hide it, at least not in the confines of her own mind, but she admired him.

‘Just a human…so weak, so fragile and yet? He’s doing all of this? Hmmm…’

Harriet was right. He was…interesting.

But beyond that? Also incredibly boring, at least as the years had advanced so to speak. ‘When he first started out his kills were fun, skilled. Now? He’s just doing it without flair. Finishing them off in minutes if not seconds. Nobody even looks like they want to fight him anymore. Huh’.

While that did somewhat displease her, the man lacking the original showmanship he’d had when he wanted to make his mark upon Gotham’s criminal element, it still also only added to his intrigue for her.

‘Nobody can fight him. He’s reached the top of the food chain in Gotham…and his protege isn’t that bad either’ she thinks, flipping forward while quickly pressing in upon the View Box, shifting her gaze once again.

She’d expected another fight, another brutal takedown of some upstart who wished to take the Bat down, but in place of that? Kara finds herself viewing something completely different.

“Unnfff…unnffff…unnfffff!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Ohhh puddin’! Yesssss! Pound that asshole!”

The image being projected had shifted to something new, and Kara was now watching as the man, now naked, was atop an equally naked woman in his bed. Sweat glimmered and dripped from his body, and he growled in equal parts pleasure and rage while the nubile body of the female gave eagerly into him.

Even the Korugarian servant girls looked up, somewhat breaking protocol, and blushed as they looked upon the scene. His hands were pressed on either side of the woman’s head, grasping the sheets tightly while the blonde laid low, only raising her rear end into the air in a vain attempt at meeting or perhaps matching the man’s thrusts. 

She had arms reaching out, desperately grabbing onto the man’s wrists as her face was screwed up in utter pleasure, her blue eyes wide and her tongue lolled out. Kara smiles and sits up a bit more, biting her lip as the man’s hardened cock slams in and out of the tight sphincter of the woman who eagerly gave in.

“He fucks like he fights” she says, speaking to herself but also the servant girls who’d looked away in embarrassment and fear, not wishing to be ‘chastised’ by their mistress which might very well include instant incineration.

‘Rao…that body’.

She had to say, this so-called Batman? He was becoming more and more interesting by the minute. Kara continues to watch as his cock pistons in and out of the gaping exit between the pert and full ass cheeks of the woman, who seemed to be being driven mad by the pleasure she was receiving.

“Could you imagine” she says, reaching out for the servant who had tried to go back to rubbing at her thighs, pretending she hadn’t seen what she did. But Kara doesn’t allow that, and forcibly grabs her chin, making her turn to watch what was happening.

The servant girl goes along with it, Kara sensing how her heart rate increased and her loins began to warm at the sight, the sounds of sex reaching their ears.

“Submitting to a man so much that you’d let him fuck your ass?” Kara continues. “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” She wore a dirty smile, clearly enjoying the discomfort that flashed across the Korugarian’s face as she saw the man’s impressive length enter into a place it was not supposed to enter, his large, cum filled testicles slapping up against the woman’s soaking pussy with each inward thrust.

“Ye-yes Lady Darkseid. Disgusting”.

“Yes…it really is”.

Kara roughly releases the girl’s chin, resisting the urge to smack her for fun as she does so, pulling away ever so slightly and moving on the bed, shifting her position so that she is straight up and down, her back, shoulders and head positioned up against the pillow.

Slowly her legs spread out, revealing her hairy and now excited slick petals, which she shows no hesitation in reaching down with her bare fingers to begin caressing. Her gaze turns intense as she watches the events unfurl, her pointer finger moving up and down her slit, exacerbating her growing excitement.

And yet, for some reason, she looked utterly enraged, a sight that frightened both attendants.

“Go” Kara growls, dipping her finger in deeper, much more forcibly than before, grunting as she throws her head back while plunging her own depths. “Fetch the Furies” she grunts out, knowing that she needed to tell the two nearly fleeing girls what they were to do before they took her ‘go’ as an order to simply be gone.

‘Fuck…I’m so damn horny’.

She added a thumb to the mix, pushing it down upon her clitoris as her pointer and now middle finger insert themselves into her soaking slit, moving now so rapidly and quickly that neither of the two women to the side who stared at her in fear could even see anything more than a blur.

She licks her lips and tosses her head back, her free hand moving up to grope her teat, squeezing it and moaning in pleasure, despising the man despite the fact that she hadn’t met him. Why? She couldn’t tell, but perhaps it was because of the fact that she didn’t want to lose face, and being reduced to touching herself like this, even before nobodies such as the Korugarian slaves? That had earned him a death sentence.

But also…a chance at survival.

‘If he can prove that he can be…interesting again’.

She tweaked her own nipple, pinching it and humping up against her fingers, rising up a bit more once again so as to continue watching the incredibly lewd show that she was now privy too. “Tell them to be here…but in half an hour. Not one second sooner, or later. It’ll be death otherwise”. The two serving girls bowed perfectly at the waist, fighting against the warring emotions of fear and arousal within them.

“Yes Lady Darkseid!” they chirp in unison.

“Good. Now get the fuck out of here” she snarls, angrily masturbating. “Can’t you idiots see I’m busy?” She’d have to finish this within a half an hour, something she knew from experience she could do. Maybe even more than one perhaps. ‘I can’t wait to watch him die’ she thinks, finding herself even more aroused now as she imagines such a fate befalling this dreaded Batman.

‘He’ll soon meet his match. Him and his little sidekick’.

For now though she continues her ministrations, working as hard as she could to bring herself to climax, a heady mixture of loathing, lust, curiosity and disgust rising within her. All the while on the View Tube the one known as Harleen Quinzel cums, screaming out the man’s name in rapture as she soaks his sheets.

“BRUUUUUUUUCCCCCEEE!”

The Pleasure Pit, VIP Lounge

Quiet wasn’t a word that could be used to describe the Pleasure Pit. It was loud, but not in an obnoxious way. You could still hear yourself think and, if you wanted, make conversation with the person next to it.

It was a ‘gentleman’s club’, though most of the men who came here could scarcely be considered gentlemen. They came here for two reasons and two reasons alone. The booze and the girls, both of whom were top of the line.

And tonight?

It was a special event.

The interior, as always, was a dull blue, the walls painted with curtains hanging at different intervals, certain movie posters and advertisements for larger events that had transpired in the past. The Pleasure Pit was in a building that had been built in the mid 1800s after all, and while originally a brothel it had also served as a speakeasy during Prohibition.

The middle of the room was, of course, a raised platform that sported numerous steel bars that ran from the ceiling to the floor beneath. This area was fenced off by a wooden gate, a few tables positioned around it to allow the clientele to sit before the area and watch, to throw the bills that served as the women dancing in the middle’s payment.

The lights were dim, but not so dim that one couldn’t see, and the DJ who was positioned far off to the side was playing some sort of technical, lyric-less tune with all the appropriate baselines and bounces so to speak so as to give the girls something sexy to dance to.

And dance they did.

Tonight was ‘Heroine Night’, where the dancers were all dressed as some of the world’s sexiest heroines, and as was to be expected from Gotham’s premier Gentleman’s Club, they looked the part. Right then on stage, clinging to the three poles, were three separate women, the one to the far left dressed as Wonder Woman, whose knee high red and white trimmed boots clicked across the stage as one hand reached out for the steel pole, grasping onto it and swaying out, smiling for the cheering audience as she swooped around it, blowing a kiss.

Her star spangled panties were much smaller than the ones the woman’s real life counterpart wore, clinging tightly in the rear so as to wedge into her ass cheeks in a much more thong-like way than panties.

Her tits were barely held in by the tight corset she wore, nearly popping out the top, and her forehead was covered by the golden tiara she wore.

“Wooo! Shake it baby!”

“Give us a jiggle wonder tits!”

“Hahaha!”

A flurry of money was tossed out onto the stage, a group of high rollers here tonight who undoubtedly wished to see the woman yank down the top and free her large breasts, each of their minds imagining that this doppelganger was the actual princess of Themyscira and she had actually come here to reveal herself to them.

To the right was an equally beautiful woman who differed to the makeshift Wondy in the fact that she was blonde, not raven haired, and was not wearing the guise of the famed Amazonian heroine. She was also much further down in her routine too, a pile of money on the floor having enticed her to already remove her leather jacket.

The fishnets still clung to her legs though, exposing the pale white flesh beneath that only seemed paler in the dim blue glow of the club. Her stilettos were on her feet, and at that moment her back was turned to the audience as she pressed her ass cheeks up against the pole, moving up and down sensuously in an obviously teasing manner.

All eyes were glued upon her back as she was reaching around herself to begin unzipping the bodice that was the only thing that kept them from seeing her breasts, which were just a tad bit smaller than the faux Wonder Woman besides her.

“You want to see, don’t you? Naughty boys” she teases, looking over her shoulder and showing off her black domino clad face which only really covered her eyes. 

“Fuck yeah”.

Black Canary was certainly drawing some attention tonight.

Last but not least was the most exotic display being put on tonight with undoubtedly the most preparation having had to go into this one. The woman on the very end was dressed as Blackfire former member of the Teen Titans who’d just recently joined the Justice Society.

The woman who was standing in for her tonight was completely naked, the purple and jem clad bikini she’d come out in already laying abandoned on the floor, leaving everything she had to offer out completely for show. Her large, heaving breasts which hadn’t been contained by the garment very well to begin with, and heavily haired pussy open to ogling from the crowd.

‘She’s definitely wearing extensions in her hair’ Jason thinks, seated at the table with already quite the buzz overtaking him, the man watching her intently for some reason he couldn’t explain. It was long, going down to her ass cheeks which were wedged into the bar in a manner similar to how Black Canary was, except for the fact that she was front facing. Her hair, or fake hair, whichever it was, was the same purplish black of the Tamaranean hero.

She also wore bright purple contacts to match, with her unshaven, full bush between her legs being the same color as her hair. Her skin was almost as orange as the woman was too, no doubt due to a very intense spray tan that made it look that way.

‘They even went to the effort to…to make the carpet match the drapes’.

He smiles at that slightly, very slightly, an inside joke within his own mind that he’d never share with anyone as he sways back and forth at the table, kept upright only by the fact that he was in a booth set back into the wall. 

“Ohh X’Hal!” she cries out breathily, moving up and down the pole as her hands move between her legs, fingering herself. “I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Ahhhh!” She was good at acting the part, really, but for some reason Jason could just easily tell it wasn't Princess Komand'r.

‘Doesn’t have the innocence’ Jason muses, leaning forward against the table in front of him, balancing his head on his hand. The world was spinning and it hurt to lean back, so he just kept himself forward and tried to focus.

“Are you okay Mr. Todd?”

“Huh?”

He looks up, not having expected to be interrupted in the slightest, and when he does he has to blink a few times, trying to ensure he was seeing what he was seeing. The first glimpse he got of course? The valley of a pair of very firm, very round, probably fake breasts which were a dark mocha in color. Slowly, he raises his head a bit more and sees the yellow straps of the woman’s dress which were the only things keeping her nipples hidden from view. Dangling between said breasts was a totem in the shape of some sort of…big cat’s head.

A woman was standing there, a tray in hand with some glasses on it filled with liquor. She actually seemed concerned as she looked at him too, those deep brown eyes of hers pouring into his.

“Hehehe…me? Me? Ohh I’m fine baby” he says, managing to not slur his words as he spoke. “I’m perfectly fine. Real good”. She smiles a bit at that, teasingly, and cocks out her hip, placing her free hand on it while looking pointedly down at the four empty glasses of Moscow Mules in front of him.

“I’m surprised he’s even awake” the woman to the side says in what was an attempt at a blank monotone which fit with who she was pretending to be. She had shapely legs, that much Jason noticed, which gave way to a tightly clinging unitard that exposed her best assets. 

A cape, purple in color, was thrown over her shoulders and a hood was attached to it as well, though at the moment it was down so as to allow anyone to see the blank faced woman. She wore purple contacts and her hair in the signature bob of the other most famous female Titan, Raven, the half demon sorceress.

“That much booze in him”.

“Ahhhh, Mr. Todd? He’s a strong one” the black woman teases, clearly a mimicry of Kusa McCabe, the heroine known as Vixen and sister of supermodel Mari McCabe whom Jason lived not one floor above.

She leans in, still wearing that winning smile but also further showcasing her tits. She reaches out and grasps his cheek, rubbing it and causing the man to go still as she does. “But I wouldn’t recommend any more booze sweetie”. She winks. “Maybe a soda or better yet? An orange juice”.

“We’ll take two please” Bruce says, the man equally as drunk off of his three whiskeys he’d had here on top of the two at home though showing it much less. “Orange juices that is”.

“Whatever”.

The dancer dressed as Raven and playing the part of waitress that night waves her hand and walks off, swaying her hips out and showing off her ass as she does. She was clearly playing her part, but even still Jason couldn’t help but glare after her.

“Bitch”.

“Awww, don’t mind her. She’s just grumpy because her unitard is wedging a little too tight. If you ask me she needs to get up on the stage and take it off. Hehehe”.

“Heh…”

Jason gives ‘Vixen’ a slight laugh but that was all, and Bruce? Bruce said nothing. The stripper smiles again a bit awkwardly and clears her throat. “Well, if either of you want anything please don’t hesitate to call on me. I’ll fetch it for you…and I really do mean everything”. She begins walking away, one more wink on top of it all, and oddly enough? It made Jason feel a bit warmer.

‘She’s got a pretty smi-no, no. Stop. Stop’ he thinks, cutting off that line of thought. ‘She’s just a stripper. She doesn’t give a shit about you’.

The mood at the VIP booth was decidedly…solemn, quiet, as if they’d just come back from a funeral. The two men looked it too, dressed as they were in their suits, their ties undone and each sporting decidedly haggard expressions.

Jason didn’t expect anything more in the way of conversation, though he finds himself surprised when it comes nonetheless.

“H-how are you doing Jason?”

He’d asked that before.

Three times as a matter of fact, and each time Jason had given Bruce the same answer. He was fine. Everything was fine. He loved his apartment. He was enjoying his days. He was fine. Fine and happy. The conversation died right then and there each time he answered, neither of them having anything more to go on. 

He expected it to be another dead end yet again…except he didn’t answer the same way as he did before.

“Shitty Bruce. Really fucking shitty”.

He almost couldn’t believe those words had escaped his mouth, it surprised him that the truth had slipped out. ‘Damn vodka’ he thinks, glaring at the empty glasses that nobody had forced down his throat except for himself.

“Ohh…why?”

“I…hehehe…you know…would it sound stupid if I told you I had no fucking clue?” he says, raising his head up a bit so as to look at the man who had raised him, had taken him in and trained him to be Robin after catching him stealing the tires off of the Batmobile of all things. ‘Should’ve just shot me in the face…but he didn’t’.

“I mean…it’s retarded…hic. To be doing shitty. I mean…look at me!” he shouts, tossing his arms out to the side and laughing through the alcohol induced hiccups. “I’m a king of the fucking world. I’m worth sixty three million dollars. Got a great apartment. Best job in the world…”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed even then, warning the man to not say anything openly about who they really were or what they really did, though Jason had the good sense, even while drunk, to keep it vague.

“I can fuck supermodels left and right. Fast cars…anything I fucking want. I’m top of the food chain ehhehe…hehe…heh…ahhhh…shit”. He falls back, seemingly a little spent from what he’d just said. His smile slips away, and right then and there he looked more broken than Bruce had ever seen him before.

“Talk to me Jason”.

“I…I’m fucking miserable man. And everything makes me miserable. Everything. Even the shit that’s supposed to help? It makes it worse. Every, single fucking time”.

“Why?”

“I don’t…I don’t fucking know” Jason says, not sure if that was true as he leans forward and the two go silent, neither him nor Bruce knowing what to say at that moment. Jason just looks down though, right at the tabletop. “I do a lot of thinking”.

“Maybe that’s the root of your problem”.

“No, no…hear…hear me out Bruce, alright. Have…have you ever heard of the phrase toxic masculinity?” Bruce was taken aback by that, unsure of what that had to do with anything and where it was going. “I’ve heard of it, yeah”.

“I think it’s bullshit” Jason continues, seemingly unsure of where he was going with it. “Not the toxic part, you and I both know enough about that shit. But the two words together. You know? Toxic and masculinity. People fucking say them in the same breath nowadays as if they’re the same damn thing”.

“Your point?”

Bruce wanted another drink at that moment. 

“Masculinity isn’t toxic. I mean, there isn’t a damn thing on that fucking list of what makes a man toxic that a woman can’t do right? You know like…I don’t know talking over people…assuming you know what’s best? Women do that shit too. Not asking for help…women do that just the same. Feeling like you can hurt people…we both know that women can hurt people too”.

“What does any of this mean Jason?”

“I heard it on the TV the other day too. The news”.

“You shouldn’t watch that”.

“I know but…masculinity isn’t toxic. Behaviors are…no…people are. Shitty people, doing shitty things and justifying it in shitty ways. Women can be shitty too”.

“I’m not in the mood for this Jason” Bruce warns, truly not in the mood for deep thinking or rather drunken ramblings which appear to be deep thinking.

“No, no! Fuck that, I’ve thought about it and…and…I want someone to listen to me”. He starts off strong, firm, but grows weaker, somewhat submissive towards the end, almost as if he was begging, and when Bruce looked into Jason’s eyes and saw him on the verge of tears he knew that whatever this was, it was serious.

“Nobody listens to me…I have nobody to talk to. To care about me”.

“I…I care, Jason”.

That was harder to get out than it should’ve been, and Bruce felt a strange sense of shame overwhelm him at that. This was hard, very hard, and it shouldn’t have been.

“I’m not trying to sound like some sexist piece of shit right? I don’t hate women and they got pr-problems as a gender. I get it. But…saying masculinity is toxic? Made me feel like I was personally under attack, you know? It’s like…I don’t know, it’s like saying there’s something inherently wrong about a whole group of people. Like…if I said toxic blackness right? I’d be lumping a whole group of people into one thing, and I’d be saying there’s something wrong with being black. That would make me a racist piece of shit”.

“I suppose so”.

Bruce was looking anywhere but at Jason, trying to distract himself with the dancers, watching as Wonder Woman began to pull down her panties for the crowd, bending over to expose her ass cheeks.

“So…it’s not alright to say that men are toxic for being like...traditionally male right?”

“What’s traditionally male by your definition?”

Jason shrugs. 

“You protect. You care. Don’t let dumb shit get to you or if it does you keep it inside…but…maybe that’s bad too. Maybe you can’t keep it inside. But here’s the thing, as a man? You’re afraid of opening up…e-especially with women”.

“Why?”

“Because they’ve got more power over us than they think. It’s like…men can’t win. We don’t open up? We’re toxic. We open up? We’re weak and deserve to be mocked”.

“You should discuss this with Harley instead. She’d have-,”

“But I’m talking to YOU Bruce!” he says, lightly slamming his fist against the table as he gets agitated, causing the older man to try his absolute best to bring him back down. “I need YOU to listen to me and fucking understand”.

“I am”.

Jason sighs and turns away, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. Clearly he felt that the man who was the closest thing he had to a father was lying to him, and it was up to the man now to correct that misunderstanding. “Is this about what happened at the Iceberg?”

“Yes! No…I don’t know, maybe? Who fucking knows? All I know is that subconsciously telling an entire half of the human species that they’re…they’re…toxic and in need of correction…naturally flawed…or…defective by women…it’s bullshit. It…it’s toxic in and of itself, you know?”

“Jason,” Bruce says simply. “She was just a whore”.

“You see! You see!” the man snaps, pointing at Bruce. “Right there! Right there! A woman could do that kinda shit too!”.

“What? And keep your damn voice down” Bruce growls, not knowing what Jason felt he’d stumbled upon. But the younger man continues. “Just...just…rejecting what someone has to say because of…something. Anyone could do it. She’s a whore or he’s an asshole or…he or she doesn’t matter. Being a vile piece of shit isn’t gender exclusive…hahaha…shit…man…all those assholes wasting their time with social science bullshit courses…paying all that money and writing all those stupid fucking books repping this group or that group, systemic this or systemic that, internalized misogyny this and there…hehe…and I paid about one hundred dollars in liquor and get the answer”.

“Which is?”

“That people…fucking…suck…”

His head was bobbing down and up a bit, like a buoy in the water, the man just barely able to hold on. One more drink though and he was gonna be gone, right over the edge. Of that Bruce had no doubts.

“There isn’t any toxic masculinity or femininity and there isn’t a perfect society waiting over the fucking corner. This? This shit we do? It’s the best it’s ever gonna be”. He leans back in the booth and sighs, looking up at the dangling Charlie Lamp over the alcove.

“People don’t like it? Boo-fucking-hoo. You don’t get what you want. It’s always better with one or two assholes in charge than putting it in the hands of a few million assholes who can’t agree on shit”.

He was clearly talking about them and this thing of theirs, the organization that controlled Gotham and kept things quiet.

“I’m just…I’ve been thinking about it I guess…with all the shit we’ve done and how lazy we get to be. I thought there was gonna be some sort of reward. That this shit would mean something”. 

Bruce remains silent, not knowing what to say. For one? It was too on the nose, too close to what he himself was feeling, the hurt and the brokenness that was overtaking him inside and the very same things he’d been considering before coming here.

“When Jessica was blowing me…I was able to trick myself into thinking maybe someone cared about me you know? That…urrk…like…maybe someone WANTED to blow me…because they loved me. A woman loved me. It’s stupid. Beyond stupid I know. She was a girl I knew was a hooker from the start…but…fantasy…it’s the only thing keeping me going at points you know? Maybe a better tomorrow or something…and..she just…kinda ruined it talking about money and coke and ugh…I don’t know”.

He calms down a bit, continuing to breathe deeply so as to make sure he could keep himself calm. He looks down at the tabletop though, his eyes brimming with tears and one even breaking out over his cheek.

“I’m miserable…and I’m just wondering if I’m a bad person. If…maybe I deserve this. I’m lonely, sad and…I can’t find a way to fix it. I hate myself, Bruce. I hate my life. I hate being so fucking….pathetic. I want to be loved. I’m miserable”.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra, as if those words themselves would free him from what he felt, from the sensations that were overtaking him and that he’d let loose. “I’m drowning and everyone is watching. Nobody cares…when I die…that’s it…poof. I’m gone….and nobody would even miss me. Nobody would notice”.

He looks up at Bruce, making clear eye contact once again and allowing the older man to see the brokenness in his eyes. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and yet Bruce was absolutely powerless to do anything. In fact he was stunned by it, perhaps even a bit angered. Angered because Jason had just spoken the words that he himself had been holding in.

He too was miserable.

“Do you...do you understand what I’m saying Bruce?” he asks, pleading really. There was a desperation in his eyes, a need that had to be fulfilled in some way. He needed to know he wasn’t alone, that someone, anyone, understood. 

And Bruce was the only one who gave it to him as he looked back at him, eyes locked onto one another.

“No. I think you just need to relax”.

Jason was frozen for a second, still as a tree as he looked at his mentor, the tears still brimming. Those words brought him back. Back from the booze induced stupor he was in that had led to this confession.

Quickly he realizes what he’d done and rushes to save face, raising his hand to wipe away the wetness around his face, ashamed of himself. “Yeah…yeah…you’re right. Sorry”.

“Don’t be”.

“It was just…too much to drink”.

“Watch it next time”.

“I will”.

Silence, a silence even more uncomfortable than before, settles across the table, and both Bruce and Jason find themselves alone despite the fact that they were right next to each other. The sound of feet against the floor approaching led to them looking up and seeing the fake Raven and Vixen coming up, each holding a glass of a bright orange liquid.

“Here you guys go” Vixen coos, setting the drink down in front of Jason while Raven does the same to Bruce, letting out a little huff as she does it.

“Thanks” Jason murmurs, feeling drained and broken, even worse than he did before letting it all out. Vixen doesn’t take note of the icy mood at the table, not really, and instead smiles at the two men, letting a naughty, flirtatious look coat it.

“Is there anything else we can get you two? I mean…the deluxe lounge is open, and our dancers are swapping over”. There was a hidden meaning behind her words, a certain offering being put forth that was only made to the wealthiest patrons of this fine establishment, and Bruce was all too eager to take it. 

“I think it would be nice to have Wonder Woman’s company tonight” he says, trying and failing to fight back the guilt he felt over failing to tell Jason the truth. That he knew exactly how he felt and was experiencing the same thing.

‘Damn you…damn you’.

“That can be arranged, Mr. Wayne. And you Mr. Todd? Would you like anyone’s company tonight?” Vixen asks, turning to look at the man with a smile and yet another wink, which made Jason remember how it felt when he’d been with Jessica, when he’d first started to trick himself and fall for his fantasy daydreams.

‘Be a man…be a fucking man you pussy. Nobody gives a shit about your problems’.

His instinct was as usual, to do what he always did to try and avoid his problems. To bury himself in sex and drinks and hope it all went away. But normally? He would pick someone he could pretend cared about him. That it wasn’t what it was really, a transaction.

On instinct he wanted to go with the beautiful black woman in front of him, whose cosplay was more than convincing, and whose smile lit up the room.

If he chose her, he’d be able to pretend that he was more than a wallet and she was more than a cock sleeve.

“Yeah…I think that sounds good. You, you available?”

He looks past the faux Vixen and over towards the fake Raven, who seemed to be a little surprised that she was being asked, the woman besides her disappointed as well. Her eyes went wide in shock and surprise, but eventually she was able to school her features and nod.

“Yes”.

“Good. I’ll meet you in the backroom”.

He makes to get up, holding onto the table tightly so as to not fall over, rising in tandem with Bruce, both men eager to try and forget what had just happened. 

Apokolips, Pleasure Quarters of Lady Darkseid

‘I really, really needed that’ she thinks to herself, rising up off of the bed and standing there, tying the sash of her robe around her midsection so as to bring the two separate parts of it together to hide her nudity. 

She’d cum, violently, as she imagined being able to seize the man she’d seen through the View Tube. To slam his weak, pathetic human body into the ground and force the apathy out of him as he realized that he was indeed fighting a superior foe. 

She’d cum imagining all of that, and even now her thighs were slick with the remnants of her excitement, the blankets stained. 

She secures the sash completely just in time for the massive doors that led into her quarters to open, the two Korugarian servants she’d sent returning and keeping their heads bowed as the massive barriers give way and slide out to the side, giving a path of entrance for the group of women that advances.

Barda, of course, was at the forefront, leading the others, with Lashina and Stompa on either side.

Bernadeth was right behind them, and Harriet? She brought up the rear as was to be expected, the woman never allowed to walk with the other Furies out of their shared disgust and loathing for her. Kara frowns at this but says nothing, knowing that to do so would go against the one true law of Apokolips, the law of strength. Those with the power made the rules, and though she was the highest authority she knew it was not wise to meddle in the intrapersonal affairs of the Furies.

‘She has to learn to assert herself if she ever wants to lead,’ she muses.

“Lady Darkseid” Barda says in open obedience, bowing her head as Kara approaches, glaring down at her and the rest. “What is it-,”

“You are going to do something for me”.

She wanted to get right to the point and avoid all the courtly protocols that more often than not just ignored her. ‘Besides…I want to bathe again’. 

“What is it, my goddess?” Bernadeth asks, ever slimy in her attempts to ingratiate herself to the ruler of Apokolips. Kara just rolls her eyes and begins walking forward, making to move past them while she issues her orders. 

“I’ve found someone, or rather two someones. They’re interesting at least, and I want you to fetch them for me. Bring them to Apokolips for some entertainment”. Harriet scuttles forward, as usual on all fours, and looks up at Kara.

“Hahahahaha…my queen, have you-,”

“Yes Harriet” Kara sighs, good naturedly pretending to be annoyed by her despite the fact that the smile gave all of that away as being untrue. “I’ve decided. The two Earthlings, Batman and Nightwing. I want them here”.

“Humans? Why are we bringing stupid humans here?” Stompa asks, seemingly insulted at the very thought of doing such a thing. “That’s rich coming from you, sulfur brains” Lashina says mockingly, causing Harriet to laugh, though to be fair that didn’t take much.

To the yellow skinned woman’s credit she tried to cover it with her hand, though that did nothing. Everyone turned on her, even Stompa who forgot that it was Lashina who had insulted her first.

“Imbecile”.

“Fool”.

“Stupid little creature”.

It hurt the woman, Kara could tell, and while she couldn’t say anything in her defense, she did cut it off at the pass. “Enough. Shut the fuck up, all of you. Rao you’re annoying. I can’t even give you a mission without you fighting each other”.

All seemed cowed, but not truly.

No, they were only acting that way as Kara had called them on it. Later, when nobody was looking, they’d go in on Harriet again. “Tomorrow morning you’re going to go to Earth and take them”.

“Why not now my queen?”

“Because I want you bitches prepared” she bites back, wanting to slice Bernadeth’s head from her neck immediately and was only just barely holding herself back. “They’re going to be more of a challenge than you think, and I want you to catch them unprepared. Don’t hurt them too much, if at all. I want them back here, at full strength, ready to entertain me”.

“It will be done, my queen” Barda says, bringing her mega rod to her chest in some sort of salute, the weapon clanging against her breast plate loudly.

“Good. Don’t fuck it up. Harriet!”

“Y-yehahahahaha-yes Lady Darkseid?”

“Come with me. I think another bath is in order for me, and I want your entertainment. Make funny faces and shit like that, I don’t know. At least you’re funny to look at. The others make me want to vomit”.

“I-th-thank you Lady Darkseid! O-hahahaha-of course!”

She scurries along like an eager puppy to her mistress’ side, ready to come along for anything and everything the woman might require. “The rest of you? See yourselves out. And I swear by Apokolips if you fuck it up? I’ll throw you to whatever Bernadeth is working on in those torture cages of hers”.

They pass the door, Kara and Harriet, and the Korugarians leave as well, forming an entourage behind the queen as she moves, all the Furies remaining for now in the room which would soon be scoured and cleaned top to bottom as was the custom for the palace staff. None of them said a word, but all of them glared hatefully, though mostly not at Kara.

No. 

Stompa, Lashina and Barda glared at Harriet, wishing she was dead and that one of them had done it. They also wished they knew how to win such high praise and esteem from the woman herself, so that they could be her favored.

Only one was fixated on Lady Darkseid’s back as she left, receding from view with her loyal lapdog trotting at her side.

Bernadeth’s heart burned with an utter rage that could barely be contained, the woman’s hands shaking as she hid them under her cloak. 

‘Soon…very soon Lady Darkseid…you will regret your treatment of me’.

Pleasure Pit, Exclusive Room

“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! Fu-fuck! Fuck me!”

The sounds of sex filled the entirety of the large, but not too large, room, the floors and sides of which were lined with pillows and blankets for just such a purpose. It would’ve been audible enough had it only been one couple engaged in coitus, but it only became louder with the addition of another.

Clothes were another addition to the floor, an entire complement of suit jackets, ties, trousers and socks kicked off haphazardly next to shoes.

The two men go to work on the women.

To the far right of the room Bruce had the woman posing as Wonder Woman on her knees as he kneeled behind her, pulling her arms back and causing her back to arch as he shoved his cock inside of her, bouncing off of her ass cheeks with his waist as he did. The woman was mostly naked, the only articles of clothing she continued to wear being her panties, which were pushed off to the side so as to allow access, her boots, gauntlets and tiara.

“By Hera fuck me Mr. Wayne!”

She was a well trained professional who had been ordered to remain in character, and so she did. Even as Bruce’s white hot member pierced her inner sanctum. Her mouth was wide open, her tongue lolling out as her juices dripped down below in a steady stream, the muscled man working slowly with well organized strokes that massaged his cock as her walls clung to him.

Her ass was truly something to behold as he bounces it off of him.

But off to the side was Jason and the other woman, the one dressed up as Raven who wore not a stitch of clothes on her save for her boots. She was completely naked, and pressed tightly onto her back as Jason knelt in between her legs which she spread open as wide as humanly possible so as to expose her cunt to the man.

She wasn’t moaning and screaming like the other stripper was, but she did let out pleasured little gasps, the only thing that could force their way through her lips. Jason was glaring down at her, one hand wrapped around her throat which he lightly squeezed, cutting off the normal flow of air.

But if the previously apathetic and bitchy woman’s facial expression was anything to go by, she was absolutely loving this. Her hands were on his wrists, ready to try and force them off should it get too intense, but for the moment? She was smiling.

Her face was red, no doubt due to how hard it was to breath, and she was smiling, completely breaking character now as Jason slammed his cock into her while he choked her. “You like that you bitch? Huh? You fucking slut” he growls, his cock slamming in and out of her pussy as he humps and pulls his waist in and out, causing a wet squelching to emanate throughout the room.

“Gaaaah..e…urk…urrk…ye-yess! Fu-fuck me!”

“I am, you slut! You feel it?” he snarls. “My cock in your tight little pussy?”

Indeed his cock was inside of her, and the fury with which he attacked the stripper’s womanhood could be seen clearly upon the reddened lips which spread for his entry. An entire four or five inches of space around her womanly petals had been cleared of the gray body paint that gave her the skin tone of the famous sorceress, leaving nothing but pale flesh behind. Her neck too was being smeared due to Jason’s firm grasp. 

Jason’s other hand was busy too, reaching down to the women’s engorged clitoris and working it over, battering it with his thumb and pointer as if it was a punching bag and his fingers a boxer going through a training regiment.

He fucks her, taking out all his frustration on the woman who was so in love with it, and the hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars she’d be making tonight, that she didn’t even notice. 

‘Be a man! Come on. You heard Bruce. Nobody fucking cares about your baby shit. Just…just…fucking grow up! It isn’t getting better than this!’

He was doing the same thing he always did, trying to bury his emotions and pain which felt even harsher now in the wake of Bruce’s utter lack of understanding it. He’d poured his heart out to him…and gotten nothing back.

And now he knew he was an idiot. It was only him feeling this way…because he was weak and naive and stupid and this is what he deserved.

“I’m gonna fuck you up! Yeah! You love this you little slut!”.

“Ha-harder! Ha-harder!”

Little did he know that at that moment? Bruce was stuck hating himself. Hating himself because he was too afraid to tell Jason that he felt exactly the same way he did. One hundred percent. ‘I’m sorry Jason’ he thinks, not even really focused on fucking the stripper but doing it anyways. ‘I wish I was strong enough to tell you…but I feel the same way. I want to kill them all. I hate them all’.

He grimaces and keeps humping, the two men being the very definition of insanity at that moment. Doing the same thing and expecting different results.

Jason was right.

People were awful without anyone having the monopoly.

It was enough to drive anyone crazy.