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The Needs of Superheroes

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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A series of vignettes, focusing on superheroes and relieving themselves.

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*

“Erif!"

Zatanna twisted in mid-air, setting off the fire spell, formed into a lance-like blade that she could launch at her opponent. They were stronger than her, but her abilities were what gave her an edge, a powerful magician in Justice League Dark, though what they delved into, from time to time, was not always brought into the spotlight.

With the portals to other dimensions opened, it was not only the everyday run of the mill battles and terrors that the planet was plagued by, the world as they knew it beyond what they could ever have imagined coming to be. She, of course, was a superhero but had retained her magician-like attire for Justice League Dark, even though it was a little more functional and not quite as restrictive around the waist, not limiting her range of motion anymore. Not that anyone was there to see her, as backup hadn't yet arrived, though she still kept her head, calling on her powers of weather control, the day darkening, storm clouds swirling with the kind of threat that the monsters would not even understand.

She brushed her black hair from her face, a smudge across her cheeks, the bull-like beasts that had flowed through the portal, an army of some kind, bellowing and stomping, though they seemed mindless without their master. She almost felt sorry about mowing them down, even though they were physically stronger and larger by a good three feet when it came to the smallest.

But some things…sometimes…had to be taken note of, even in the heat of battle. She growled and landed out of her original attack with a thud, a small dust cloud puffing up around her, though her body was light and agile, ready already for the next attack. Zatanna shifted her weight, licking her lips, though the rising tension in her lower stomach could not so easily be set aside and ignored, as much as she might have liked to see it laid to rest.

Now is not the time…

_ _

Her body disagreed.

Her stomach churned and grumbled, as if she hadn't been looking after herself properly, though that had not been the case. It was an annoyance, ever so slightly embarrassing, but no longer enough that it would bring a flush of heat to her cheeks and neck that would give her away, even if it was something that still had to be dealt with.

Bodily needs. She would have shuddered and rolled her eyes if she had not been in the thick of it, magic swelling around her, bringing forth a storm, thunder rolling into the abandoned city amongst the buildings, lightning splitting the sky. That was a distraction, enough for her to get what she needed, though she could have used any other, to be fair, to get by and relieve herself without anyone realising. Once, she had even squatted down and excreted the waste from her body right in front of a gang cluster. They had not been all that important in the grand scheme of things but it had been almost exhilarating, if a little exasperating, to be able to take care of such a base bodily function in the course of her work. In a way, her need to poop made her different to the everyday humans, all in a dirty, functional way.

It was still something she was getting to grips with, sending the monsters back with thunder and lightning, a howling wind, the beasts with horns and twisted, sickening expressions cowering and huddling. Huh, they didn't like storms… That was something that she would have to pass on to the team, though Zatanna had not expected it.

She didn't bother hiding herself – what were they to care? All she had was a self-satisfied smirk for them as she squatted and used her powers to create a small dimensional portal under her backside. Disintegrating her clothing, of course, was an option to allow herself a moment to relieve herself, but that would have taken time for her to dress again and who had the time for that?

She braced herself, muscles tense, though only enough to hold herself in position, grunting lightly. It was such a pain that being a superhero meant that she had to consume more sustenance, which could be irritating enough by itself, but that she had to relieve herself more frequently and with a higher volume of excrement too.

“Oh, shut it!"

She growled and rolled her eyes at her opponents, though they would not be able to talk about what she was doing, not after she'd blasted them all with fire or whipped them up in a tornado – that would be “odanrot", an easy spell to cast. Sometimes, the most difficult part of casting her everyday magic was remembering how to say the words backwards.

Yet she did not hide that she was pooping, her guts rumbling and demanding that attention as she transported her excrement only a short distance. The dimensional portal ensured that it did not stain her clothes and she instead popped as if she simply was not wearing any trousers at all, groaning deep in the back of her throat as she squeezed out the first thick log.

“Unff… Hurry up…"

She wanted to get back to it, her blood hot and fired up, body aching for battle. The storm could not be held for too long, not while her attention was elsewhere, and urgency trembled through Zatanna even as the first four-inch log of waste landed. She might have checked her excrement if she'd been in a more private position, but she could already see the bull monsters snarling and pounding at the ground with human fists, perhaps minotaur-like. She didn't care, as long as answers were had, but she knew too how to be practical.

“Unff…"

She grunted again, bearing down, squeezing out a second, slightly longer log of waste from her body, the relief in her lower stomach palatable. It had to be about five inches long, though that was not something she considered too much, thick around, maybe one inch in diameter. After having to poop so much and think about it so much, she was pretty good at guessing what size her excrement was, though it was not a skill she bragged about. She was fortunate that pooping was not typically a messy endeavour for her, considering that she and other superheroes had to go more often than normal human beings, but that would have been manageable either way. Each log of poop dropped with a soft splat to the ground, healthy for her body and lifestyle, even if it was more than even usual. She must have forgotten to take a mid-morning break, but that was likely just why things had ended up as they were, with her down and dirty taking a dump while she hustled and hoped no one else from Justice League Dark turned up too quickly.

It had to come, three, four, five logs of waste, all piling up, though the last ones were smaller, ending the natural excretions of her body a little more naturally, which was, at least, a relief for her. It eased the ache in her stomach, keeping one eye on the monsters, though she did not have all that much fear of them. They were simple minions and even if they had had more intelligent masters surely waiting behind, she was not afraid of them. It had been a long, long time since Zatanna had ever feared anything or anyone of that ilk.

Her belly eased its grumbles, though they had not been that severe, not that time, leaving a warm pile of droppings under her. It was animalistic, even though she didn't like the thought of regressing, briefly looking back and under her, squeezing out one last dollop through the dimensional field to add to what she had already pooped out. The five logs of waste were all a good size, more than a person should have comfortably produced, though the smallest was four inches and quite fat around, a good, firm consistency, little to no smell with any of them. For that, she was glad. She'd rather do what she needed to, letting her eyes drift down through the little interdimensional portal, what she could see with her magic, checking briefly, her stomach settling.

“Ah… That's better."

It was easy to say that when there was no one there to see her as the monsters writhed and advanced, stomping, pounding their fists on the ground like gorillas. She cracked out her knuckles, a smirk on her painted lips, whipping up the wind again as she raised her hands, letting fly the spells.

“Dniw! Mrots! Enacirruh!"

For Zatanna would not be stopped, now that she had relieved the needs of her body, a laugh whipping itself from her lips in the rising wind, lightning crackling and sparkling off around her, bringing the storm right down to her level, right down to her. Her body was strong and she was proud and she didn't even waste time in covering the pile of human-like poop left behind her, knowing that it would end up smooshed and smeared, surely, into one of the bodies that she piled up there.

Sometimes, superhero work was messy. But Zatanna was used to that.

*

“Ohhhhh, pudding!"

Harley Quinn giggled and bounced about, her jester's hat bobbing about on her head, wearing a full-body catsuit quartered into a red and black pattern. Her face had been painted a traditional jester's white – traditional for her, her lips and eyes outlined in dark paint, though Ivy always said that she went too far with her make-up. Not that Harley Quinn cared one bit about going too far when going too far was half the fun!

But that was the problem as she swung upside-down from one of the metal beams in the warehouse part of his hideout – good gosh her pudding did have a lot of rooms in his hideout! However was he going to move it about when they had to get away from Batman again? That guy was always spoiling her fun!

That wasn't what Harley Quinn wanted to focus on, however, mischief running through her veins. Even before she'd been twisted to insanity, the dark side of Gotham City, she'd been that sort of person, even though she'd never let it all out to play. That was silly, so silly, and she'd always regret that as she took out a telescope, which was not needed when she already knew the layout of the hideout so well, her hyena henchmen growling on the floor below her.

“Oh, boys, you don't have to get all growly because of me!"

There was a problem, however, even if it was a very simple one to fix. Her pudding, see, hadn't been very nice to her at all lately. No, the Joker could have been nice and kind and sweet to her – why, he'd even promised to take her on a shoot-up date! And that hadn't even happened as he'd squealed off in his car, burning out the back tires in a stench of burnt rubber, spinning them too rapidly without gripping the road.

“See ya, toots!"

“Pudding!"

She'd fallen on her backside in the dirt, though it had not been all that serious, nothing that bad, not in comparison to what the Joker usually did with her. But Harley Quinn wasn't going to think about that as she executed a perfect flip and drop down from the metal beams of the warehouse onto his map of Gotham city, which had been up to date as of the last time he'd poured over it.

Harley Quinn frowned. Maybe the Joker would see the funny side of things again if she did something to the map? He really did waste far, far too much time on it for her liking, thinking up crazy schemes that were always thwarted. Her ideas were much better, for at least they had fun and a joke to them, not obsessing over and over about one thing all the time!

“Well, I'll just have to show him then, won't I, boys?"

She spoke softly and warmly to the hyenas who kept watch for her. Although they were genetically modified, they were still her sweet boys and she wouldn't do without them. They'd rip out the throat of anyone who tried to go for her in a second, her darlings!

But her manner of revenge was rather different to most, though some would have called it cruder. The bottom half of her outfit had one black leg and one red leg, to make up the black and red quarters of her entire outfit, and she wriggled down the leggings, which were sheer and stretchy enough to allow her full flexibility. How else could she perform her acrobatics as Harley Quinn, after all?

“Ohhhhh, I'm going to show you, Joker!"

Her voice rang out higher pitched with excitement as she exposed her bare backside, almost as white and as pale as her face was, even though she was wearing make-up on her face at least. She couldn't help that she didn't get much sun in Gotham city! But her belly rumbled, reminding her that it was time to go to the bathroom, the sensation of tightness and pressure there urging her to release what lay within her bowels.

Of course, Harley had already found the perfect bathroom on top of the Joker's map, the perfect ploy and prank to show him exactly what she thought of him. Sadly, Harley wasn't much one for thinking through the consequences of her actions, even though she had fallen prey to the twisted dealings of them time after time again. She never learned, though that was perhaps because her brain didn't quite work as it used to. She was happier in her insanity anyway, regardless of what anyone else had to say about her.

She grunted, making a show of it, even though she didn't have to, squeezing one out. There was no one there besides her hyenas, the loveable, throat-ripping-out goofs that they were. They were much better than dogs for her, but she made a mental note to have them leave a present for the Joker in another suitably devious location, though she could not think of anything more prank-worthy than crapping on his map.

Harley practically shuddered with wicked delight as she excreted the waste from her body, bearing down, leaning forward a little, though that made her butt rise, increasing the drop from her backside to the map. The poops were little, coming out in soft splatters, for something soft and healthy could not help but splatter just a little when dropped from something of a height. The consistency was easy for her to poop out without making a big deal of it and, still, she leaned forward, hunching, wriggling her toes in her form-fitting jester slip-ons (they were all part of the outfit), making as big a pile as she could.

One, two, three, four – oh there were too many little poops to count! She had to hold in her giggles, rocking back and forth, though she thought it was the best prank ever still, even as a softer poop splattered a little more widely, flecks of healthy poop marking the map further. Target hit!

Her backside squeezed down, pushing a bigger log from her backside, something fresher and more recent, a grin on her face. That was thick around, like a lumpy sausage, though better than the fluffy nuggets she had already pooped out.

“Ohhhh, this is gonna be a good one!"

Her stomach roiled a bit, though that was with excitement, not the need to relieve herself further. Pooping was just a natural part of life, after all, and it was only natural for her to make sure that her needs were met, even if the Joker didn't seem to think that that was all that important for her.

Taking a pen, she smirked, giving her butt a little wriggle as she finished, her poop not in a pile but laid out at odd angles next to each other, each bit of her scat roughly a log-shape, though that was perfectly normal for her and most people.

“Dear Pudding…" She said aloud as she scrawled across the top of the map. “This is Harley's…turf…now… Hahahaha!"

She didn't write her laughter, throwing her head back, the pen going flying, clutching her hands to her chest even as she sprang up. With a quick flip, she popped herself back off the desk where the map laid as if it was nothing at all, her leggings scooting back up over half her backside from that movement alone, though it was not enough to cover the crack of her butt. That required Harley to re-dress herself properly, which she did in a flash, smoothing down the back of her leggings, stretching out in them to make sure that everything settled nicely into place.

Footsteps, however, sent her leaping from crate to crate, stacked in the corner of the warehouse and surely containing explosives or something of that ilk, holding back her giggles as she got back to the beams. Her hyenas, of course, knew more than well enough just how to make themselves scarce, slinking away and hunkering down, blending in with the darkness and not making a single sound.

“Damn the Joker," one of his henchmen said as they strode into the warehouse, acting as if they had somewhere far more important to be than doing their boss' bidding. “Always getting us to do his dirty work… Who cares about a stupid map anyway? We all know where everything is in Gotham city… Idiot…"

That was hardly the smartest thing to say at the best of times, but few were around the Joker for long enough for ridiculous comments to mean anything. Usually, they died in one crazy scheme or the other, sent into the lines of his kind of battles as fodder to be spent, though everyone thought they were different.

That was why Harley didn't mind him finding it, her little present left on the big map. It was the best kind of thing that she could do as a prank and, already was thinking of other places that she could poop – probably more to annoy the henchmen than the Joker himself. After she'd gotten her revenge on him, she'd have her Pudding back again and everything would be just peachy!

He paced up to the table while Harley swung upside-down, holding onto the beam with her legs, though she didn't have any fear of falling. That was part of her being an acrobat and part of her simply being, well, out of her mind.

“Ergh!"

The henchman, nameless and faceless to her, screwed up his face, backing off from the table, hands held out before him as if that would steal the scene of her excrement from his mind. It was all she could do not to burst out into giggles, trembling with the force of holding it all in.

“What the hell is this?"

Squealing out her giggles, Harley bounced from beam to beam, disappearing into the hideout.

“Oh, Pudding is gonna be so mad!"

But that was the kind of mad that Harley Quinn dealt with day to day anyway.

*

“Quiet down, Huntress. Haven't you ever done a stake-out before?"

She was desperate to prove herself, even though she was a strong woman in her own right, Batgirl dressed in a skin-tight outfit and a long, black cape with purple on the underside. It was not a slice of colour that was needed, but having taken inspiration, in part, from Batman, some traits had to be passed on.

Huntress shook her head, though there was nothing for her to lean back against, having been in one position for too long already. When Batgirl had roped her into staking out a gang, not her usual gig, she had not honestly thought that there had been all that much to it. Sitting there, fighting the gang, catching the gang. It was not particularly something that she had thought out all that well, considering that Batgirl had only given her a few hours to get all her cards in hand before setting out.

“Yeah, I know."

Short on words, she leaned back on her elbows. Her mask was settled into place across her face, as it always was, black hair loose and hanging down past her shoulder blades, a little wilder and more unkempt than she would have liked it to be, though that was not all that she was about. Her fitted outfit in dark purple, almost black, and silver striped down the front, was befitting of a masked vigilante, though she had never really cared for the term. Like so many others in similar positions to her, Huntress made her own rules. In that aspect, she was no different to others.

Sighing, Batgirl hunkered down, though there was one problem at play. She'd thought that she had already taken care of her bodily needs earlier in the day, but the problem was that she had eaten rather a large lunch before realising that the stake-out had to happen that night. The gang would be off and on their boat, sailing out of reach and heading to who knew where after that, the stack of drugs safe on board, right where Batgirl didn't want it to be.

A strand of richly shaded brunette hair clung to her face, sticking to the moisture of her lips, though she didn't brush it away. The sensation helped her keep her mind away from what was going on, that her stomach was making weird little gurgling and popping sounds, as if bubbles were rising in her gut.

“Oof…"

Huntress gave her a look.

“What's wrong with you?"

Batgirl made a face.

“Er, yeah… Nothing. Just gotta go to the bathroom."

“What, on a stake out? Is this how things usually go for you?"

They both knew the answer to that one, considering the rather unusual nature of their jobs and work, how they spent so much time away, often far from anywhere that had any kind of facilities that they could access. Going to the bathroom and relieving themselves outside of normal means was par for the course for them. Huntress groaned and sighed.

“Go on then… Look, go behind the chimney over there. I got this, don't worry."

That was a relief, at least for Batgirl, as she hustled up and scurried over to the chimney, not wanting to be away from the potential action for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. It was fortunate that they were not up on a skyscraper or similar, but lower down and closer to the ground in the industrial district, warehouses and factories abounding, though it was not a part of the city that many wanted to spend all that much time in.

She was used to that though, even as she ducked down onto the second level of the flat roof, dropping down barely a foot and fighting with her outfit to get it down over her backside. She would have cursed under her breath if that was something considered becoming for someone like her, though she tried to keep that part of her, the part that was a little brasher than she liked, sealed away. There was always a mask on, after all, whether or not it was a physical one.

Yet the time for that mask to come off, well and truly, was when she wormed the bottom half of her costume down past her buttocks, leaning heavily on the brick chimney for balance, because that was the only thing she could do. Squatting with her backside feeling as if the entire thing was hanging out was hardly a comfortable position at all to be in, grimacing a little as her stomach roiled and churned dismally.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it," she muttered to herself. “I'm going, I'm going."

Her body had to be listened to, even though she didn't always have to find herself comfortable with it, which was a shame. She shook her head, trying to hasten everything, yet she had to bear down, squeezing out a firm log of waste that was roughly four inches long, softer and lighter at the end that took the longest coming out of her body.

“Oof…"

No wonder she had been uncomfortable with that inside her – oops! Who could have considered just how much different foods could affect one's digestive system? Maybe that was something that she should have paid a little more attention to, but it was not something that anyone cared about unless they were forced to. Her bathroom habits had only ever come to the forefront of her mind when she was forced to think about them, which was most often when she was out in the field, working, needing to take care of her body.

The log of waste was firm and the relief that her body felt as it slipped from her made her realise how much she had needed it. Her cheeks heated with warmth, prickling down her neck, though she didn't see anything about there that she could even cover her waste with. That was annoying, the sausage-shaped log resting on the ground, riddled with light cracks, though that was just another indicator of perfectly healthy poop.

“Oof…"

She grunted in the back of her throat, wriggling her hips, working out a second log from her, feeling the strain, the pressure. She had to think about her diet a little more, but that could come after she had relieved herself, pooping out in the open.

For her, it was just the two logs, one bigger than the other, and she wrinkled her nose a little at the scent of it, though it was, thankfully, not something entirely overpowering. Damn what she'd been eating… The open air helped a little with that even as Batgirl sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed still, even though there was a part of her that understood that it was just a natural bodily function, not something that could be held down, as much as she might have wanted it to be.

She cleaned off a little with a tissue from her supply bag, though that was something a little more feminine that she carried around with her. Batgirl could not have imagined Batman plucking out a tissue at any time to offer anyone, though she had to suppose that the times were changing too. That, however, had to stay with the waste, Batgirl clearing her throat, perfunctorily dressing herself again, smoothing down her clothes so that there was not a crease nor a seam out of place.

“That's better…"

Re-joining Huntress, she crouched down, bringing the binoculars to her eyes, lips a little pursed. It would be any moment then that the gang would be out, skulking away under the cover of darkness to do their dirty work. Shame that her dirty work had been so filthy up there on the rooftop too, but it would surely be washed away by the elements before anyone found it, which was something that reassured her a little. She was still a woman, a lady in a sense, even if she was not known in her non-vigilante life for that, not all that much anyway…

Huntress, however, was not all that comfortable. Batgirl going off to use their impromptu bathroom made her realise that her body was aching with need, though it was not a number one either that her body needed to do. What was wrong with her? She didn't usually need to go to the bathroom when she was out working!

As much as she tried to ignore it, however, Huntress could not curse under her breath and shift her hips enough to relieve the deeply rooted need inside her. It was insistent once she had acknowledged that it was present, her mind drifting, hardly even able to focus on keeping watch.

She sighed, too loudly.

“Alright… Back in a moment."

Batgirl blinked at her.

“What? Where?"

“I…have to use the bathroom too."

“Ohhh."

Huntress grumbled as she made her way over to the spot where Batgirl had gone, moving slowly and stealthily, perhaps even more so than she would have when she was approaching a target. It was oddly exhilarating, the idea of pooping outdoors, for not even she had excreted the waste from her body in such an open environment before. The closest to that was pooping in an abandoned stairwell, a warehouse, out camping – things like that. That was not the same as crouching behind a chimney with the bare sea air licking at her skin, the warehouses close to the docks, biting at her lip as she tried to quell the frantic pounding of her heart.

It was too much for her, a pounding that she didn't want to pay heed to, though she was fortunate in that she could squat and slide her outfit down over her buttocks, though she dawdled between how far to slide it down to make sure that she didn't get anything on her clothes. It would be hard to clean up out there and she had to be sensible, as much as what she was doing in exposing her backside felt as unsensible as anything could be.

It was slow, not able to find a position that worked for her. She didn't want to lean back against the wall, her legs bent, half-squatting, which was what might have worked – not with the dirt marking the bricks, staining them as if there had been smoke or a fire, perhaps, scorching the roof at some time. They didn't know what had happened there and the rush in her made her even slower, grunting, even groaning, embarrassed more and more by all the sounds coming from her lips.

“Come on… Come on…"

She didn't want to think about what she was doing, even as heat crawled through her, twisting through her stomach. Never before had she had to poop like that around someone else and it was even more embarrassing for her when she knew that Batgirl knew what she was doing too. If only Batgirl hadn't had to go – maybe she wouldn't have even realised!

But that would not have honestly changed anything, as the needs of her body were what they were whether she was paying attention to them or not. She could not stop to worry about what she was eating and what she was going to be doing later, not when there was such a busy life, night and day, to be leading, though she did manage to slowly squeeze out a firm, small log of poop, followed by a couple of smaller, harder nuggets that felt as if they had been compressed inside her for a little longer than was strictly healthy. She'd have to make sure she used the bathroom more frequently, so that all was well.

“Oof… Come on… I can't sit up here all day…"

She sank a little more, crouching, pushing her hips back, though the angle was a bit weird from her, shifting her weight from one side to the other. She just had to try something to keep herself there, bracing a shoulder on the wall, as much as she screwed up her nose and lips, trying to keep her composure, her sleek and in control attitude. It was one, after all, that she had coveted for many years.

But her body did the work for her when she was not actively thinking about it, feeling her poop slide more softly out past her ring for a thicker second log of it and then a final few, round blobs of softer, fluffier poop that topped it off. The pile was mostly neat there and Huntress, even if she could not explain her curiosity, looked back to see it, two pieces of poop settled in together almost as if she had placed them all there deliberately, the rounder blobs dotted around, one balanced precariously on top. It all looked healthy enough for her, though she had not thought that she'd needed to poop that badly. It was not like her to study it like that, though there was almost a morbid fascination cast over her, though she would blame Batgirl for it, for how she had been so open in leading the charge into public defecation.

She grunted, settling her clothes once more, though she didn't feel quite herself, even though her stomach felt miles better than it had before. For a moment, she glanced about, trying to check whether she could cover her poop with anything, though there was not anything there, annoyingly enough. Seems she was reduced to acting like an animal, though she was so much more of that.

Huntress groaned, brushing her fingers back through her dark hair. Well, it was all part of her work, what made her life worth it. She felt as if she had a purpose in Gotham, doing what she did by night and in shadowy corners, and she didn't want to let that go too quickly. Not at all.

Returning to the stakeout beside Batgirl, Huntress smiled, a little bit of camaraderie lifting between them.

“So, what did I miss?"

*

“Oh… Catch me if you can!"

Harley Quinn whooped and darted from the bank's vault, a solo mission, one just for her. A big sack of the good stuff (money, of course) was slung back over her shoulder as she made good her escape, giggling and squealing, her hair out of her jester's cap for once. It was nice to feel the cool caress of air passing on her head and neck, though she had kept to her traditional quartered red and black costume for her shenanigans, always making sure that she was seen as Harley Quinn, even if her blonde tresses were on display. Who knew – maybe a style tweak was even on the cards for the acrobat who was out of her mind?

She whooped and laughed, alarms sounding off, red lights flashing, the main lobby of the bank empty – but for the cops that levelled their guns at her, eyes narrowed as if she was something undesirable smeared on the sole of one of their shoes. In one hand, she bounced her giant hammer, a decidedly insane grin (she'd even practised that one!) stretching her lips wider and wider, almost as wide as her Pudding's best smile.

“Hey, boys…" She giggled. “Whatcha got there?"

“Turn around and put your hands up, lady!"

“Yeah, we got you surrounded!"

“Oh, shucks… But here I am with this big, long hammer in my hand… I can't do what you want, guys, I'm sorry!"

Of course, she was not sorry, mischief glinting in her eyes, as they told her to put the hammer down. Their orders might have been more convincing if their hands had not been shaking ever so slightly, just one of the many tiny motions that Harley could pick up on. Where she might have appeared like she was not paying attention, she was always paying attention.

“Sure, sure… I'll put my hammer…down…"

That, however, was only the means to the end and yet another prank as she giggled and slid her black and red leggings down at the same time, wriggling her toes and showing off her flexibility and balance, tipping forward with her bare arse in the air. The cops' jaws dropped.

“Here's a little present from me, Harley Quinn!"

That time, she had to be quick, making her move and making a show of it at the same time. With her pale-skinned backside hanging out, she puckered up her lips and blew a raspberry as she squatted, quivering with the delight of putting on a show.

It was crude, it was rude and it was everything that nobody expected of her as she let loose her bowels, not caring that she was pooping flat out in the middle of the bank's foyer, only that she was turning heads and shocking them to their core. Harley groaned and moaned, though the sounds were merely of exertion, even though they had been amped up for the attention of the cops who simply didn't know what to do as the first thick log of waste pushed out, forcing a round bobble of poop before it that was softer.

“Unff… Yeah, I really needed…ah…that! You watching, boys?"

She laughed out loud, head thrown back, hair bobbing, tucked up into pigtails just like they would have been if she had still been wearing her jester's hat. Her lips were still painted black, giving her the illusion of someone darker than she had started out being, giggling like the madwoman she had become as she lowered her hips a little more. Flexibility was all well and good but no fun if she didn't have someone to surprise with it, squeezing out a full five-inch log of poop and then following it up with a few smaller rounds plopping down, the hard nuggets of waste a little darker in colour too, though there was not really any noticeable smell in the moment. Although she could feel the pressure of her body forcing it out through muscular contractions, she knew she had to be quick, not embarrassed at all – that was, if her wide grin didn't show that she was more than happy with all that was going on.

“That good enough for you, boys?" She giggled. “I put it down… But I think I'd best be on my way back to my Pudding now!"

She finished off with a squeeze down and wiggle of her butt, a little bit more forced out via her muscles, an odd-shaped little bit of poop with a dark colour that seemed out of place from what she had already excreted. But was there any right way, really, to poop on the floor of the bank?

She mostly tugged her clothes back up, form-fitting and close to her body, but didn't mind too much about covering her arse as the cops simply stared stunned, the acrobat extraordinaire whipping around her hammer to conk them both solidly over the head. One strike after the other knocked them out cold, their bodies crumpling to the floor like paper people, people that didn't exist. In her crazy world, her warm pile of poop left on the floor behind her to show exactly what she thought about them and the establishment.

Screw them! Except when she was taking money from them, of course. Or maybe that meant that she could screw them all the harder, just in a way that hurt them more. She laughed out loud, head spinning with how ridiculous it all was, slinging the bag of money back over her shoulder as she whistled a tune.

The Joker would be so pleased with her haul! And she was pleased with the little show she'd put on too, swinging out a high window and making good her escape, though everyone would be left talking about the dirty present she'd left behind.

Was it wrong? Perhaps. But Harley Quinn just didn't care about that.

She'd never cared.

*

Zatanna panted heavily, amid a fight with the Justice League, spells flying from her lips, water whipping around her. She funnelled it into a waterspout, dousing the guns that had been lined up against them, though there were some times that she wondered why human artillery was pitted against them when they were so much superior. It was not that the magician thought that she was better, a smirk on her lips and her black hair streaming behind her, but that the evil forces in the world always had so much more to hold against them than their smaller number did.

But the Justice League always came through. That was no problem to her, confident in her ability, stopping a hail of bullets with a forcefield and turning them back with a flick of her wrist.

Invisible, she landed on the ground, her feet connecting with a thump, though in the thick of the city, buildings rising above them, though it was not an American city that she was used to, but one in sandstone shades in the Middle East. Truth be told, Zatanna didn't know quite where they were after orders had changed last-minute, but she knew enough to fix her position, teleporting in the blink of an eye to cover more ground than her legs could.

“Kcolb!"

She blocked an attack, an assault rifle levelled at her comrades behind her.

“Rettahs!"

The gun shattered, bent back as if the metal held no more substance than baked clay.

“Dlof!"

The men opposing them grunted, folding the ground like a deck of cards, paralysed in place, harmless – at least for the time that she held the spell. But Zatanna, as much as she sweated, losing control of her invisibility and revealing herself to the furious forces, knew that there was only so much she could do, more and more men coming. And not all of them were enemies either, taking civilians, using them against the Justice League.

Her face screwed up, lips pressed together into a thin, hard line. Captives. Hostages. They were cowards if that was the route that they took.

She popped in and out, leaving the Justice League to fight the main battle, for hers lay behind closed doors. She did not think of the men she disabled, the true foes, but of the hostages she freed, setting up portals for each, however temporary they were, so that they could escape, back to their families, though she waved off their words of thanks. She had work to do.

“Oh, not now…"

As she paused, her stomach gurgled. That was the wrong time, really the wrong time. Was there ever a good time for her body to decide that it suddenly abruptly needed to go the bathroom? She groaned and twisted her body back and forth, but, for her, once the urge to poop had risen, she could not hold it back, a bead of sweat trickling down her brow. She shifted her hips more and more urgently from side to side, in the window of a house where she could see the fight happening but take stock of things for herself. Why did it have to be that she always had to poop so much?

She could have struggled to keep fighting but even Zatanna knew that if she did that she would be distracted to the point of being a hindrance to the Justice League – and that very much was not something that she wanted. Pressing her hands together, she decided in a moment on her course of action, casting her spell with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“Tropelet!"

Teleporting away, her body sucked in on itself in a flash of white light until it appeared that she had not been in the middle eastern city at all – and reappeared some distance away, out in the desert. She landed soundly, creating footprints in the sand, taking quick stock of her surroundings.

Sand. Trees. Water. An oasis. It was perfect and, thankfully for her, deserted too.

“Come on, come on…"

Her attire that day was such that she could more easily yank her tight, form-fitting trousers down near the trees, a little too warm for comfort in the late afternoon heat of the desert but she would have to be fine for the time being. There was no time to be elsewhere, not as she groaned and grunted, uncomfortable, resting her hand on a palm of some kind for balance.

“Ugh…"

It should not have been embarrassing, but she could not stop the heat of frustration curling through the pit of her stomach, shaking her head, her belly tense with the need within her. Her body, however, was apt to work quickly when she needed it to, exhaling a sigh of relief as it worked away at letting loose her poop.

She had to squeeze down, her back to the desert, but she focused on the sensation of pushing to the exclusion of all else. At the bare minimum for her, it made the frustration a little easier to bear, though it had been more heated embarrassment in the early days of her having to rush off in the middle of battle to relieve herself.

Her body ached as she squatted to best allow the relief to come, a long snake-like piece of poop worming from her, though it had a squashed bit in the middle where she had inadvertently squeezed around it, as if she was about to stop pooping halfway through. Yet she could not stop, not as she grunted deep in the back of her throat, pooping out that first, narrower piece, even as her guts gurgled with more, so much more.

Yet she had more poop than ever (or so it seemed) inside her bowels that day, aching to be deposited, squeezing out a large log of waste, tightly packed together so that she felt the strain as it freed itself from her ring. It was very firm with cracks running down it, though she could not help but wish it was a little softer, especially when she had so much to get back to. Zatanna groaned, tucking her chin down a little, though she could only let it come, excreting a four-inch log and then another – give or take a little on the size, though the second was easier, a little squishier on her anal ring as she bore down.

“Oof, come on…"

It all had to come, however, even though she knew too that she would likely end up needing to relieve herself again in only a few hours time. It would come, time after time again, pooping out five logs of waste in total with no little bits at all besides the longer, narrower rope that had come first from her, neatly placed on the sand, though she was struck with the urge, that time, to try to cover it up.

“I don't know why I'm doing this, this is stupid, so stupid…"

Yet she did it anyway, pulling her trousers back up, ensuring that all was in place for when she darted back into battle.

“Revoc!"

The spell was too strong to cover her poop in a rising swathe of sand flooding over it, but she felt a little better about it, a strange sort of feeling that told her that she was still a little bit embarrassed about it after all. However, the problem of the day was still to be seen as Zatanna turned, not quite sure why there was a prickling tingle at the back of her neck, only to find that she had not been alone for that display after all.

“Oh no…"

But it was so. For Zatanna had not been alone out there at all, a band of travelling nomads with a caravan hitched up to a donkey or a mule or something of that ilk and camels laced together in a travel caravan convoy. They must have been nomads, taking only what they needed to with them and not as much as a merchant's convoy, eyes fixed on her while the majority of their bodies were covered in traditional, cloth clothing, shielding them from the sun's strong rays.

“Hell…"

She cursed, less than under her breath, heat flooding her cheeks, though it did not quite rise into hot patches on her neck. Well, there was nothing she could do about it, but finding out that her private defecation had been far, far from it was hardly something that she wanted to uncover! It would have been better if she had transported away without the knowledge that they had seen her. Would they even recognise her?

Muttering to herself, she cast her spell, hoping that the light pink of her cheeks would be put down to the battle when she was back in the thick of it.

“Tropelet."

It was the easiest spell, her body pulled through space, seeing and not seeing the world around her at the same time. Yet it was behind that she left the band of travellers who had seen a superhero pooping in the desert and, to be honest, didn't know what to make of it.

Who would?

*

They had to be quiet, hunting Cheetah. Not a cheetah, of course, but the villain Cheetah, her wicked smile and spots tell-tale markings that set her against the image of any other target that they may have made. That Cheetah had, once again, secluded herself deep in the humidity of the jungle where Zatanna was forced to use every spell at her disposal to keep predators and the many flying, biting insects at bay was just the cheery on top of the rather terrible cake that was her day. Why couldn't they go somewhere more hospitable for once? Ah, but that would have made things too easy…

But the story was not about Zatanna, not really, Wonder Woman taking charge and the lead, lightly dressed while Zatanna, of course, was using her magic to protect their physical bodies. Wonder Woman quietly stepped ahead, leading the way, but Zatanna mumbled something sly that she should have been behind her at all. It felt wrong to be in second place, though there was something else brewing. She tried to ignore it, brushing a damp leaf out of her face, a long frond that was fern-like in appearance, yet it grew and grew, even as she tried to force it down, to tense her glutes, to pretend that the feeling was not truly there.

No…

_ _

For once, it was not Wonder Woman who felt the burbling of an unsettled gut, however, the woman glancing back, though she kept going. Zatanna would tell her if anything was wrong, even if it was something that everyone dealt with, especially her. Those with superpowers, of course, struggled with it more than regular human beings that were caught up in the strange lives they led, but she might have misread the situation too.

However, Zatanna's sigh told her that she had picked up on the signs correctly, so in tune with the other superhero that she almost felt the rumblings of needing to use the bathroom in the pit of her stomach too, churning and burbling through her gut.

“Hang on, it's time…"

Wonder Woman paused, a small smile on her face. It was not embarrassing, at least to her, but she couldn't remember a time that she had been around Zatanna when she had needed to go, so that could have made things interesting. All she cared about was that they carried on with the mission…and that Zatanna kept up with her bug-repelling duties. It wasn't the most glamorous job but someone had to do it.

“Yes?"

Zatanna grimaced.

“Wait for a moment, I'll be back."

With a blink of her eye, Zatanna disappeared, leaving Wonder Woman marvelling at that particular ability of hers. Sometimes she was ever so slightly envious of her, pulling such spells out at a moment's notice, though Wonder Woman understood too the many years of practice and study that such spell casting had taken. Just because Zatanna could do something did not mean that it was intrinsic and instinctual. Things still had to be learned and trained over time.

“Elbisivini nrut."

Wonder Woman's brow furrowed, but the woman before her disappearing told the tale of what was taking place for her. Expecting Zatanna to go off into the jungle for a moment to take care of her needs, she stood, her hip slightly cocked, scanning the area. Even out there with the wonder of nature all around her, she could not stop herself scanning for danger, always checking out what could lie ahead, though it was perhaps one of her strengths. Sometimes, she wished she could turn it off.

Wait – what was that? Like someone blowing a raspberry, but oddly deeper and more guttural. She listened intently, but from her own experiences, it did not take a genius to realise exactly what was happening.

“Zatanna…" Her lips parted in mild disbelief, eyes a fraction wider. “Are you…going to the bathroom now?"

“Yeah – you know how it is for us!"

Wonder Woman could not help but laugh, shaking her head, the moment breaking some of the tension that had been lingering between them without even realising it had been there. Zatanna had, of course, turned herself invisible but forgotten that the sounds of her going to the bathroom would remain, even if that little noise had only been the very natural release of gas from the body.

Wonder Woman giggled, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. For there was one thing that Zatanna had forgotten too, even if Wonder Woman was not all that sure that she should tell her. What was the etiquette when it came to things like that?

“What are you looking at? I'm still invisible, aren't I?"

“Well…" Wonder Woman hesitated, but amusement bubbled up too intoxicatingly in her chest to be denied just like that. “The thing is, you're invisible… But your poop isn't, not when it, ah, leaves you."

She laughed out loud as Zatanna made a strangled noise that could only be one of frustration, following it up with some very unladylike choice words. For her poop was appearing from thin air (quite literally) in smooth logs of waste, small and neat as the magician deposited her poop as tidily as one could ever have liked. There was nothing undue in her excrement, everything small and soft, easy for her to poop out, yet being invisible had not given her the privacy that she had wanted.

“Maybe you should have transported it away too," Wonder Woman suggested, almost about to feel how Zatanna rolled her eyes, even though she could not see her. “Then I wouldn't have seen anything at all."

“Oh… Come on, it's not that funny!"

Yet neither of them could help but laugh and laughter was, as people said, good for the soul. It was such a ridiculous situation and, frankly, not one that either of them had ever met before, that Wonder Woman doubled over laughing, even as Zatanna excreted more and more, almost as if she was trying to rival the largest of poops that Wonder Woman had taken. The little poops that had been soft and almost delicate to start with had been a trick on her and her body, clearly! But Wonder Woman and Zatanna were not, to be fair, on speaking terms about such matters of the body prior, but something in Wonder Woman told her that that was more than just about to change. It was funny how missions like that could bring two people together, regardless of the lives they had led and their backgrounds, finding some way to give them common ground, regardless of everything else.

Her body churned a little, deep down in her lower abdomen towards her rear, though she was not worried about needing to go again, even though the ice between them had been broken, quite clearly. Who could have ever thought that going on a mission like that would end up in the revelation that poop, in fact, was not invisible? As she watched, Zatanna muttered a spell to sweep away her waste, scattering it back into the jungle where neither of them had to deal with it, though she had intended it to remain invisible. It was not as if the path they were walking, after all, was a trail frequently travelled through the jungle.

Zatanna sighed audibly, though Wonder Woman glanced down at her poop, comfortable in the fact that she could not see the woman that it belonged to. The logs of waste were soft and small, covered by larger ones with light cracks speckling them, the shades varying. She couldn't help but check herself for health reasons, even when it concerned someone else, hoping that Zatanna did not catch her glance as another soft blob of poop plopped down, topping everything off like a cherry on top.

The woman popped back into existence, though Wonder Woman did not catch the spell that she had used to regain her visibility, a smile on her face as she stepped forward, pointing her shoulder in the direction that she needed to go.

“Come on, let's cover some ground before I end up having to go too."

Zatanna laughed, looking at her a little more fondly than before, if Wonder Woman read her expressions correctly. Sometimes, it was hard to know with Zatanna, but maybe a little easier from that point forward.

“Yeah, I know that feeling. Let's get going."

So it was that, side by side, they continued, seeking out Cheetah and all that they had been set to task, as superheroes.

It was, by far, the most interesting mission that the two of them had been set on together!

*

Power Girl sucked in a breath, blonde hair tickling the back of her neck even in flight, as she slammed through a wall in a single punch, channelling every last bit of her energy into the strike. Rubble shattered around her, flying off in all directions, breath caught in her throat, though she was where she needed to be, in the thick of it. Fortunately for her, she was with Wonder Woman again, which at the very least took a little of the pressure off her when it came to dealing with missions.

The buildings around them were old but still in use, a part of the city that was undergoing refurbishment and redevelopment, so to speak, something of a shadier part of the city. It had been let down, over time, but would likely change after their battle. That was often the way of things when superheroes were involved, considering that there was very often a trail of destruction in their wake. In the course of their work, that could not be helped that much.

“Urf…"

But Power Girl too had a problem, a twisting need in her gut even as she chased the tail of some otherworldly monster that had come through into their world, perhaps let through by Loki. She pursed her lips, trying to focus on the thought of what the god of mischief (not in their world, but close enough for him to cause trouble) had been up to, yet she could not focus on the thought. It was clawed away, even as the wind whipped her hair back from her face and caressed her skin, but the notion that she needed to relieve herself, the churning grumble of her guts demanding attention.

The building above her exploded, glass shattering, a hole in it the size of a car. She cursed and flipped over, dashing down to the ground, zigzagging. Yet the need remained, her stomach aching deeply, though she had not thought that she had needed to go that badly. Why had the need to poop come on so suddenly?

She was in the thick of it and needing to go desperately, grunting and panting, yet she didn't want to leave Wonder Woman there alone, not even as she sliced off a portion of the sky-snake monster's tail with a makeshift sword befitting the beast's size: a ripped off radio antenna mast that dwarfed her. That was just Wonder Woman's super strength at play, however, one of many abilities that she boasted. Even though she was one of them too, Power Girl thought, privately, that there were almost too many superheroes and others to keep track of in the colliding worlds. When it was something so close to home for her, however, she kept those thoughts to herself.

She couldn't push it back by concentrating on the fight, however, grunting as she darted into the ground floor of what seemed to have once been a shop. There was still a counter, papers strewn everywhere, aisles divided up by racks that could have held produce, maybe even magazines, something like that.

“All the damn time…"

Urgency was of the essence, her guts groaning, her body bearing down even then. Yet Power Girl could not quite allow herself to ease into the experience, afraid that her body would squeeze out her poop before she was even ready. She couldn't have that – how would she even clean up afterwards? There were simply too many considerations for a superhero out in the field, especially when the need to relieve themselves could be forced upon them, seemingly, at any given time.

Something exploded outside as she yanked down her fitted leggings, which stretched like spandex so that every muscle in her lower half was highlighted, the best aerodynamic suit on the superhero market (well, they had everything designed and made for them). Yet Power Girl could not spare even a moment for the events that were going on outside, Wonder Woman surely tussling with the beast, though she was confident too that it would not take Wonder Woman more than a few moments to work out where she had gone.

“Come on…"

Her bare arse hung out as she sat on an old chair, something metal with a hard, plastic seat, but something that she could just about hang her backside off, even though it was not the most comfortable of positions. It helped though, especially when she was sick of squatting. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Did it ever get less humiliating? She didn't think so, not when she was tucked up in the back of a dirty, broken-down shop that was probably a hideout for drugs or something, anything unsavoury. She had no distaste at all for those in the world who had truly fallen on hard times, but her lips screwed up in disgust for the location, the shop windows too openly revealing what she was doing if anyone had bene on the other side, looking in. But she hadn't been able to get anywhere else!

The relief in her body was palatable from the moment she first started pushing, grunting and groaning, hating every little sound that her lips and the rest of her body made. The light push and squeeze of her poop coming out, rushing, though that was more her need than her urgency hastening the ordeal. The feel of her hair clinging to her lips, stuck to the moisture there. How red patches of embarrassment teased down her neck and across her cheeks, even to the tips of her ears. Self-consciously, as she pooped, Power Girl pulled her hair forward over her ears, at least hiding that from view.

“Unff…"

She groaned, half-closing her eyes, though her skin prickled, a touch of sweat layering itself down, though the suit quickly wicked it away where it still lay over her skin. She shifted her weight on the chair, rocking a little, as not all four logs were of an even length, one splatter of softly formed poop in a log-like shape dropping to the floor, a large one that was easy to push out. It was soft, at least, and easy to excrete, though that did not make it any easier for her as she hung onto the back of the chair and craned her neck.

It was a habit that Wonder Woman herself had gotten her into, although she didn't quite know how or why it had started, only that it had. She had to look back over her shoulder or twist around in some other way, all to check that she was healthy. Wonder Woman had said that it was the easiest way to make sure, especially when they took so many hits out in the field, their work making their poop the best way to check in with themselves. At the time, Power Girl had laughed it off, but…things had changed.

With mission after mission forcing them together, sometimes pooping in the same place at the same time, they had not been able to evade the inevitable, which happened to every superhero at some point. They'd been on a mission together and, just like that, they had needed to poop at the same time, bringing on a weird kind of bond between them that, honestly, Power Girl wasn't too keen on. Although it had helped them get in and out of sticky situation after situation, having someone there who was in the know, that didn't have to mean that she had accepted one bit of it even after so much time had passed.

Power Girl, however, had to focus on the moment at hand, her skin itching as if it was crawling, distracting her from her line of thought as more explosions rocked the building. She hoped it was not going to come down on top of her, even as she shifted her weight, trying to ignore the fact of what she was doing, how crude it was. It still felt rude to be out in public, one soft, squishy log of poop comfortably on the floor, her waste settled, followed by two and three, both sizeable, showing what her body was capable of with the light brown shade, the feel of them leaving her body. She sighed. It was too much for her body to produce comfortably and she knew too that she should have gone to the bathroom earlier in the day – yet the need hadn't been there.

Producing more poop than a human was normal for her, exhaling softly, trying to relax. But it was almost done as those roughly five-inch logs of poop were added to by some soft, round poop, not quite as hard as the nuggets of waste that she was used to, and then a final two logs of three inches each, a little thinner. Those were the darkest of all, nearly black, though that was probably just due to the rich meal that she had eaten the night before. It was not that much, though the first ones had taken her breath away more than she'd realised in the effort it had taken to excrete them, flushed and hot around her collar, to say the least of it.

A quick check: yes, the size, shape and consistency was good, yes, all healthy. She rushed through the act in her embarrassment, brushing off her attire, standing, dressing again. It was all she could do to hurry along and forget the humiliation of being prey to a superhero body. No one ever considered the drawbacks of that, yet she had to think about it every day.

She kicked a pile of papers, old, dirty magazines that curled at the edges, the ink of the pictures having bled after so much time passing, covering up her poop. It was cursory and not something she needed to do and yet it still felt like the right thing, considering how her body was, what she always had to bear in mind. She had an image to keep up, even if other superheroes had become more and more comfortable with the needs of their bodies.

Maybe Power Girl would come to that too, in time. But not yet.

Until then, she had the fray to dive back into. That would have to be enough for her.

She'd likely have to poop again in an hour though.

*

“Harley Quinn… You are something."

Zatanna shook her head at the Joker's side piece (well, she couldn't have ever been a main for someone like him), half-turning away, for she didn't see Harley as so much of a threat that she had to keep an eye on her. It didn't bother her that Harley was hanging about the Gotham docks, only that she was there, waiting on her delivery, something that would make her show, as she progressed, the most talked about in Gotham and beyond. Harley Quinn didn't even warrant her turning her in her direction, leaning back against a shipping container, waiting it out as patiently as she could.

“But you seeeeee," Harley squealed, bouncing from the top of one shipping container to the next with the lightness of foot of an acrobat. “That's why I've got to do my best for my Pudding!"

Zatanna shook her head, eyes cast down. Even the floor was more interesting than that joke. She hadn't bothered listening.

“Heyyyyy, are you listening to me?"

“Nope." As if it needed to be said. “And you should get on your way. We're not on the same side, Harley Quinn."

“Aw, shucks, why you being like that?"

Harley bounced down in front of her, her jester's hat bobbing, a sly figure in her traditional black and red costume, though her hijinks had never amused Zatanna. It was all Zatanna could do to not roll her eyes, illuminated only by the glow of the lights down by the docks, shaking her head, black hair brushing against her cheeks where it was growing a little more forward. Perhaps a haircut was in her future for the new show season?

“Because I don't like you," she said, as blunt as she ever was. “You don't bother me and I don't bother you: that's how the deal works."

“Oh… But you'll be off with Justice League Dark or something again and then everyone will be looking at poor ol' Harley Quinn!"

She made a face, but Zatanna grimaced, her attention taken up by other matters. Harley, as lively as she was, was not one to miss an opportunity for a joke.

“What's up with you?" She said with a tilt of her head, black lips smirking. “Something…wrong with your stomach?"

Zatanna glared.

“How did you know?"

“Oh… Lucky guess. Shame you're not bothering me and I'm not bothering you, or else I could have helped you."

Zatanna sighed. Sometimes it felt like Harley Quinn knew exactly how to wrap her up in sticky situation after situation, though their paths, so far, had not crossed that much. Compared to other matters going on in Gotham city, even the Joker above her, she was small fry, not worth more than the bare minimum of attention. Yet Harley Quinn was out to show everyone just why she was not to be down stated and underestimated in any way…

“Yeah." She jerked her thumb back over her shoulder into the mess of shipping containers, a near maze. “You go back there, there's a single one us folk down here use as a toilet. It could have been a portable one at one time… Ah, I don't you. But you're welcome to it!"

Zatanna stared, crossing her arms over her chest. It had to be a trap, it had to – but what could Harley Quinn or even the Joker, if he had ordered her to capture Zatanna, have to do with her? She was of no interest to them, flying under the radar, performing, even though there had been that one run-in with Poison Ivy.

She sighed, her stomach aching, curling twists of light pain pushing into her stomach, not just her intestines. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“Alright, fine…"

“Great!"

Harley grinned widely, leading her to the makeshift bathroom, which, to be fair to it, had a seat of sorts, a board with a hole in it. Otherwise, it was pretty basic, considering where they were, that there should have been access to water and hook-up and… Zatanna shrugged, muttering her thanks to Harley, though it was a weird kind of thanks, one that she didn't want to change what already existed in their relationship. It was tentative and distant and not one where either would save the other in a pinch and that suited Zatanna just fine.

She sat down, not very comfortably, but it would at least do for the moment, which was all that Zatanna needed. Slipping down her clothes, she scooted back, wriggling in place. For her, being out and about when she was waiting for so long, having something that could have at least resembled a toilet was a luxury that she was, by far, not used to. She would have rather felt cool porcelain under her bottom, however, rather than the old, hard wood that was ever so slightly damp. She made a face. Gross.

Doing her business quickly, she tried not to think about the fact that Harley Quinn was hanging about waiting outside for her, knowing exactly what she was doing. But what else could be going on when she was in a toilet? Zatanna made a face, her attention drawn to what was happening with her body, how the gurgling rumbles of her gut were, very slowly, easing off. It helped, a little, her body pushing two firm logs of waste from her that felt moderate in size, though the tiny toilet, if it could even be called that, took them easily. They dropped down with a soft splat into the darkness, though she couldn't see where they ended up. Not that Zatanna was going to waste her time with something like that, of course, but things did sometimes come around strangely in her line of work and business…

“There."

She pushed a little more, plopping out a few smaller pieces of fluffier, lighter poop, ensuring that her passage and rectum were both empty: she wouldn't have wanted to cramp up again soon. Who knew how long she'd be waiting out there in the dark? There was not anything in there for her to clean herself up with, which was a shame, but not so bad that she wasn't going to continue waiting at the docks. Everything would be fine, as long as she got on with it.

Splat.

_ _

Huh? What was that?

Splat, splat.

_ _

She stood, peering, but something else plopped down – something that came with the distinct smell of a bathroom, however fleeting it was.

Splat, splat – SPLAT!

Her eyes grew wide, a curse flung from her lips, hurling her body at the door – which wouldn't open! Damn her!

“Harley Quinn!"

Squatting above the dock toilet, Harley giggled out loud, pooping through the hole in the top. Now that was a prank worth playing! She squeezed out another log of waste, not caring to see what it was, pooping as quickly as she possibly could, the soft excrement easing quickly from her, even a little watery. She couldn't see what colour it was, but she sure hoped it was good and stinky! Dropping after dropping fell with a soft plop into the toilet cubicle…thing. What did she even call that anyway? Well, it wasn't as if she wasn't doing anything in there that she wasn't supposed to!

“That's for the last time you blew open my gig!" She squealed, though Zatanna was not in the loop on what affront Harley had taken to her. “Try that again, spellcaster, and it'll be worse!"

It was not an empty threat, not by far, though Zatanna's cry of fury could be heard across half the docks, even as the ship she'd been waiting on came in…

It had not been the night that she'd expected, that much was sure.

*

“La-la-la-la-laaa!"

Harley skipped along the parapet, out in the country, some big mansion. Oh, she was just out enjoying herself, her blonde hair out, dressed more casually in a T-shirt that had a picture of the Joker and a big, pink heart around him. That it read “I <3 Pudding!" was just the icing on the cake for her, though she had blown up the print shop where she'd had it done, just to make sure no one could come back on her about it. She wasn't going to have anyone making fun of her Pudding just because she loved him so much.

What was that? Voices? It was not a surprise to her, considering the location and that she thought there was a little shin-dig going on, but she had not expected to see so many people. Her blonde pigtails swung as she skidded to a stop, looking over at the party, a bustling mass of people, so many that she had never seen before.

So many dresses, the parapet of what seemed to be a walking area on the higher part of the mansion stretching out before her, Harley's eyes wide. It was a strange old country house, to be fair, something that took inspiration from multiple eras, though that wasn't something that Harley Quinn cared all that much about. No, she was far more interested in the sparkly jewels and extravagant dresses. She could only imagine how much they cost, though a black and red ladies suit for her too, to suit her jester needs, yes… Yes, that would be more her if she was to go to such a party!

“Oooohhh…" She cooed over it, one of her hyenas at her side, though they were a side more serious than it was ever possible for Harley Quinn to be. “What do we have here, boys?"

The party was in full swing, superheroes who had travelled in, like Wonder Woman and Power Girl, in prime position. Why, there was even Zatanna there, though Harley didn't know what business she had consorting with the likes of those with real powers. What Harley thought about Zatanna, on the other hand, was not something that Zatanna cared all that much about. As much as Harley pushed back against her, she simply wasn't a person that came onto Zatanna's radar, at that time, at all.

Maybe Catwoman was about too, with so many diamonds, but Harley had spotted an opportunity for mischief unlike any other. As the participants posed for photos before a backdrop of water falling, the light glancing off the water as it churned down in a sheer wall, others moved away, something about going to the exhibition room. Well, that sounded perfectly boring to Harley – but there were plenty of banquet tables and delicious food left out there for her to have a little fun with!

As the people left, including the security guards (no one was going to guard jewels when lives there were far more important and valuable), Harley laughed and flung her whole body out over the edge of the parapet. Her hyena yelped behind her, launching off in pursuit of his partner, but her hench hyenas had nothing to worry about as she giggled and executed a perfect flip. It was not so much a leap of faith, but more a leap of knowing that she was perfectly in control of herself and her body, landing on the canvas of a small tent and sliding down like a child.

“Wheeeee!"

She popped off, landing perfectly, hands raised as if to an audience. Yet there was no time to enjoy the splendour of her private show as she made good on her little prank, rushing over to the largest and most prominent banquet table of all.

“Ahaha_ha_!" She whipped a silver serving cover off the main meat, a roast pig presented beautifully, as if it had been what she'd been looking for all along. “You will do nicely!"

Dressed more casually than usual, her black and red jester's skirt was high enough cut that she didn't have to worry about it getting in the way, not like when she had to wriggle out of her trousers or leggings to do what she was about to. After all, everyone had needs of the body and even though she didn't really feel as if she had to “go", she could still relieve herself publicly all for the thrill of playing a little-big prank!

She laughed, covering her mouth, her panties tugged to the side, though discretion and haste were both of the essence. While the pig sat there, dead and surely succulent, she couldn't see any real reason that all the fine, lovely, sparkly people there deserved to enjoy it any more than her – and she hadn't even been invited to the party! Didn't everyone know that Harley Quinn loved a good party?

“Oof…"

She grunted softly, though had no reason to be all that quiet as her stomach pressed on a little bit, feeling the pressure of her muscles contracting, squeezing out a smooth, small log of waste. Oh, that wasn't good enough! Not even as it dropped onto the shiny silver platter beside the pig as if it was an adornment to the display, which, she supposed, was just what her poop had become. She had to do more, yet all that came out were little, round, perfectly so, plops of poop, making a light ringing noise as they pinged onto the platter. She made a face. She had to have more in her than that!

No, no, no – she'd have to do better than that! She had a little time while they were all in there, watching whatever their exhibition was, but she didn't care about that. Crouching there in a deep squat, her flexibility making it easier for her than it would otherwise have been, she grunted and forced out another thicker log, a little more pleased to see that it was longer than the first – about four inches, but it was not as thick as she would have liked it. It was a good colour though, really “poopy", just the way Harley liked it for her pranks!

Sighing, Harley Quinn made a face, pursing her lips. There was never enough time or enough to satisfy her jokes!

“Oh, poop…"

But there was still a little left in her and she put all the effort in her body into squeezing out that final log of poop, doing her best, that one the freshest and most recent. She clenched her jaw, panting softly, but she was making a show of it for no real reason other than to amuse herself, already imagining just how shocked people would be to find poop on the platter! Her poop! The logs and the round little pooping plops too! Could anyone else even imagine it?

No, no – of course not! Only Harley Quinn could come up with such a splendid prank, the kind of prank that would have all those in the know rolling on the floor laughing! Her stomach cramped a little as she forced out the last bit of poop in her rectum and, oh, it was a doozy! The last was bigger again, thicker around, right as she wanted it to be as she huffed and puffed, her skin a little hot and prickly purely from the exertion.

She knew she had to rush, yet the act of pranking someone was still an experience that she enjoyed, not at all embarrassed about pooping in public – well, no one was there. She would have squatted down and done it in front of all the other party guests if she had thought that she would have gotten away with it at all, but sometimes needs must. Harley didn't know what that meant, but her heart still lifted as she let out a crazed giggle, the ever so slightly unhinged one that she had been practising for a looooong time.

“Ooooh, they're gonna be so surprised!"

Whether that was in a good way or a bad way didn't bother Harley, however, as she let her underwear pull back into place. Time to make good her escape! There was no sense in hanging around and getting caught, not that time, though she had to see what would happen, whether they would all come out and be shocked…or what! She couldn't tell, popping the silver lid back over the top of the platter, a grin stretching from ear to ear. Her poops remained inside, the squashy ones and the firm ones, the different shades making them the perfect prank for her to play, even if it had not been one that she'd been expecting that day. If she could have pooped out a big log of waste, even bigger than the best, she would have been even happier!

Yet the fruits of her labour were soon to be seen as she scaled the walls again like a monkey, swinging from flagpoles higher and higher until she could get out of the way and out of sight, back between the old, elaborately carved stone parapet onto the balcony.

“Oof, quite a climb, boys!"

She rested a hand on each of her hyenas, the boys only listening to her, though she knew too that she would have to make tracks again quite quickly once the show was on. She didn't have to wait long, however, giggling and pressing her fingers to her lips, practically jigging from one foot to the other as they filed out, the chef praised, his hand on the lid of the silver serving platter.

“And…the main course!"

“Auuuugghhhh!"

Oh, she would replay their sound of horror in her mind for weeks after that, peeling off with a shriek and a scream of laughter, lighter on her feet than she had been in years.

Now… Who else around Gotham and beyond could she prank with her poop?

*

Wonder Woman scoffed, sitting at dinner, a meeting of superheroes… To say that it wasn't her scene was the least of it. There were superheroes there that acted more important than she thought they were, though she had never really given all that much thought to her own importance. Even if they were superheroes with powers beyond those of normal people, some of them not from the planet that they were currently on.

It was too formal, too stuffy, out in the countryside away from all towns, somewhere on the edge of the mountains, though it was more a posh residence for those in power than anything else. She sighed. That wasn't a game that she wanted to play.

“If you'll excuse me…" She came up with a suitable excuse as eyes turned to her at the long dinner table. “I just need to go for a walk, before dessert, just to clear my head."

Thankfully, there were extensive grounds to explore, no physical fences at the foothills of the mountains but a force field that stopped anyone entering or exiting without permission or at least setting off the security features. It was a little bit of a crude system as she walked with purpose, following a line of trees that seemed to go do down to a rock garden of some kind, the building something of a modern mansion at her back. Yet its purpose in entertaining the elite could not be escaped, not even then.

“Oh, bother…"

Not a word she would usually use, but there had been so many things going on that night that she didn't feel settled in her own skin and she hadn't taken care of one very important bodily need before leaving the dinner party either. Superheroes came and went all night, of course, considering how much more they had to poop, though that was likely part of the reason why the party had gone on for so long too: they had to eat more. It helped them, a little, with their abilities, though some placed more importance on it than others.

Her stomach grumbled away though, even as she followed the coniferous trees down to the rock garden, a small water feature cumulating in a miniature waterfall and pond. It would have been pretty if the urgency of her stomach did not have her shifting from foot to foot, trying to find some kind of position that was at all comfortable.

“Hey."

Her head turned, though it was only Zatanna, the spellcaster moving fluidly through the night as if she belonged to it. Wonder Woman smiled.

“I didn't expect to see you out here. Shame, I was just heading back."

Zatanna's lips twitched questioningly. Somehow, the woman managed to convey a lot more with just a look than many others managed to do with words. It was interesting.

“Why's that?"

Wonder Woman rolled her eyes. At least with another superhero, particularly a woman, she could be open about it.

“You know… Body stuff. Yet again, the call of the bathroom."

She smiled, not embarrassed by it, though she did not yet know Zatanna well enough to tell whether she would be embarrassed by it or not. Such things were not always instantly obvious, even in her line of work and life more generally.

Zatanna, to her surprise, only shrugged and glanced over to where a few more were out walking, some of the guys. They weren't ones that they really wanted to spend time in conversation with, however.

“Why bother?"

Zatanna shrugged, snapping her fingers, a glint in her eye.

“You know I can just freeze time, no one out here is going to see us?"

Wonder Woman's eyebrows shot up.

“For me too? Isn't that a bit far to push yourself when we're just here at the party…or whatever it is you call this?"

Zatanna shook her head, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh, come on, you know you've got to see the funny side of it too, this needing to poop all the time thing. And so much of it! You've got to see the lighter side…"

Wonder Woman sighed and brushed her fingers back through her dark hair.

“I suppose it would be easier… I don't have any wish to go back inside yet."

With that, the air around her seemed to cling to her, like moving through mud but not quite at the same time. It was a strange feeling, the fabric of time clinging and shifting, her breath caught, yet she could still breathe. There was just something different to it, Zatanna sharing a grin with her, though it was hardly something that either of them were all that familiar with.

“Come on then, I can't hold this forever."

They politely turned their backs on each other, though Wonder Woman was unsurprised to find Zatanna going to the bathroom at the same time as her. It would have been more unusual, to be fair, if Zatanna had not needed to poop, considering everything.

Still, it was a little awkward for her, spreading her legs a little so that she could crouch, the skirt of the dress that she was by no means comfortable in long and flowing. It could be swept to the side, however, even if she took her underwear off, allowing her to more easily poop. She didn't quite want to let go of her underwear, however, just in case that affected something with Zatanna's slowing of time. How was she to know if anything could through the spellcaster off?

Still, it was good to relieve the aching grumble in her stomach, the pressure that was so very often sending her running to the bathroom. And neither did she have to worry about embarrassing anyone else either as Zatanna relieved herself a polite distance away, though she still had to be close enough to hold the spell. Wonder Woman excreted a slimmer log of waste than expected, the pressure of it passing her ring odd in the open air. She'd never really had time in such an open environment to take it in, at least going behind a tree or something, but it was oddly “nice" and refreshing to be beside the rockery, enjoying the open air. If it was something that she had to do, at least she could do it where she had something to look at.

One piece of poop, an odd-shaped nugget, dropped and she checked automatically for her health, pushing down as her stomach gurgled a little and popped, those little bubbles telling her that her digestive system was all working away as it should be. There was no pain, only an insistence in her body to push, bearing down on the second poop, a thicker, oblong-like one that was more like what her body usually produced. The night air didn't pick at her hair, but was eerily still and dead around them as she added another four-inch log of poop and then pushed out another, a little smaller.

There was still a need in her body, however, showing just how superheroes had to excrete more, though, for once, she did not let out a weary sigh. It felt like just something she had to do when Zatanna was there and it was a little more refreshing too to her when she didn't have to convince someone like Power Girl to “just do it". She understood the embarrassment, of course, when it was such a frequent thing, but it was a little tiring to keep reassuring someone about it and having to take the lead. Sometimes, she thought, it was good to let someone else lead. And that was okay too.

Zatanna grunted, but Wonder Woman did not look around to see her magicking away her poop, transporting it into the woods to naturally decompose via a little transporting portal she'd created. Her poop did not even touch the floor and, when they talked about it later, Wonder Woman would find herself jealous of such a thing. Wonder Woman caught a glimpse only of Zatanna out of the corner of her eye pooping, checking in mentally that her health was all good and to be expected, though she knew there was a line not to be crossed there.

But as she added a fourth and a fifth sizeable log, with rippling down the length and a thicker end than the beginning, of waste to the neat pile of her poop, the relief that flowed through her was more than worth it. Even though there were others technically near, with Zatanna slowing downtime as she was, they were invisible to them, their bodies moving too quickly, in the real world, to be detected by the naked eye. Standing, Wonder Woman laughed softly, eyeing up her poop, the sizeable pile. The last log had been quite big and she wondered just what she had eaten earlier that day to render it so large.

“All done?"

Zatanna smiled, snapping her fingers. With a fizz and a crack, her poop was gone – Wonder Woman's, that was. The area around them was left perfectly clean and clear as Zatanna allowed Wonder Woman a moment to re-dress herself, slipping her underwear politely back on, the feeling of air pressure around them relenting suddenly.

“Oh!"

Wonder Woman's lips parted in surprise, though Zatanna laughed. Whereas Zatanna remained perfectly in place, Wonder Woman tried not to stagger, her ears ringing for a moment, though she could not help looking down at the spot right where she had pooped. It was still strange to her to think that it had been there…and now was gone. Maybe if that was something she could do too, things would be easier for her and others. But at least Zatanna could help those who were a little shyer about what their bodies needed them to do, if she was even that kind to everyone.

“Yeah… That'll take some getting used to, of course," Zatanna said, gesturing to the idea of slowing time, “that's if you stick around here. It's easier to deal with it when there's someone of the same mindset, hm?"

Wonder Woman nodded, lips quirking in a smile.

“Sure… But I'm not sure I do poop jokes like the guys, okay? This is just a thing for us women, superheroes… Superheroines, as they say."

Zatanna made a face.

“Ugh, that's such a sexist term. We're all superheroes and that's awkward enough to say. Now they have to make a word just for female superheroes? Was that even necessary?"

“At least it gives us a little identification," Wonder Woman said, though even she had to agree. “But some things are just how things are… Should we head back now?"

“Nah," Zatanna shook her head. “I don't want to deal with the speeches. Besides, we'll have to poop again before we even make it back to the bathroom."

Wonder Woman laughed, having to agree. But that was simply the way of it for them, having found a new friend with how their worlds had collided, and things were all for the better.

Even if she would need to poop again soon.