God's TV- DC x DP prompt
Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.
So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.
Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.
It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.
No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.
It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.
A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.
Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.
"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.
While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.
Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.
"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.
"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.
Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.
"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.
Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.
Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.
"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.
"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.
"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.
The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.
It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.
Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.
"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.
"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.
"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.
"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.
"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."
"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.
"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."
"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"
"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.
"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.
"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.
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But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.
Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.
Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.
He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.
He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.
As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.
He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.
Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?
Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.
Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.
He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.
He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.
Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.
Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.
Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.
The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.
Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.
She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.
Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.
She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.
There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.
She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.
She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.
Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.
Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.
Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.
Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.
Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.
She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.
That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.
Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.
The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.
They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.
They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.
Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.
When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.
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You are literally French. What would you know about any of this, an issue and drama stirred up by anericans.
Blackwashing exists and is used by bigots that hate white people. Its used to erase the ethnicity of asians just because people dont think they are "poc enough" because of their pale skin. Its used to demonize people with pale skin because its becoming more and more the norm to view anyone with pale skin as evil. That anyone who is "too pale" isnt enough or a human being.
They arent real people, and their skintones are fine as is. You wouldnt go up to, for example an albino or mixed race black/poc person and tell them they arent "dark enough". They dont even need to be special like that to be pale. Some just are pale.
Whether you think there should be more characters that are dark or not is not the issue. Its that you think they wouldnt be/arent good enough as is with pale skin that shows how much of a bigot you are.
Blackwashing is not the progressive act you think it is. Its obvious that your only experience with it is through genshin drama. You obviously know nothing about how much red haired pale characters & asian ones are substituted with black characters. How characters are simply replaced in the name of "diversity". How this forced inclusivity and diversity is just bigots trying to "get revenge" on the white people they hate so much, and to tick off DEI boxes on their little bigoted checklist.
You tell me to educate myself but its actually YOU who needs to be educated.
Many are complaining about sumeru and natlan characters with names similar to gods in cultures of our world that are pale when their inspiration is dark skinned. Claiming they want representation and for it to be accurate, to reflect our world on a 1-1 scale.
Yet these same people will make xiao, zhongli, Ei, and many more asian characters darker " because asians can be dark skinned too". Yet so can mostly dark skinned races be pale.
So why cant you (gen) respect such characters, who are gods and divine beings based on a culture where pale is more beautiful, and gods of such cultures are pale?
There is hypocrisy in everything to do with blackwashing. Its okay when its done to pale characters because in real life black people have been oppressed? But these characters are not real, nor are they a reflection of our reality, as far as we have seen they dont even have racism in this fictional world.
It is one thing to explore a character like with the recent hatsune miku trend, atleast there most people arent going at each other's throats saying black miku is better than japanese miku(as far as i have seen)
Seriously how can you even begin to justify this. And who ever told you that dark skinned characters "scare white people" is an absolute fucking liar trying to justify their own bigotry towards white people.
No black washing IS just as disgusting as whitewashing. Neither should exist, and you shouldn't feed into the stupid circle jerk of bigotry that both of them are.
Aaaah that's what I like ! Yes ! Thank you for telling me your opinion, explaining what is wrong. I absolutely love to learn, and I prefer to read this long text calling me ignorant and explaining why that just a simple text of you saying you are annoyed by a fanart.
Thank you for telling me ! First yes I am french, and indeed my culture has more an european pov. But again, I also grow up as a minority "race" with my parents culture !🙏 in france, i don't look like a french. Well. Still I am aware that it doesn't remove anything from what I said
And I totally agree with you, some are just pale !! It just happens I draw Kinich black because I like it like this. Is Kinich true inspiration are actually pale ? Tell me more, I wish to learn !!
Tbh when you talk abt gods being pale is beautiful, I thought about Nahida. I did research when she were out and yes, I do agree, there is character who are fine as they are.
And because I live in France I also see "dark skin scare white" as a true fact. It happens and it is harmful. 🧍 not only in France tho, in country where pale skin is portrayed as beautiful, people who have tan skin are less represented even if it is the majority. I suppose the contrary happens too !!
"Character are not real" and yet you are annoyed, I guess it is the action of "blackwash" that make you mad, more than "a fictional character w diffent skin tone" tho! My opinion is fiction does affect real world, as do real life affects fiction, and this is something I won't debate on
"They don't have racism in this fictional world" sorry but it does in Sumeru. 🙏 about this one npc she is reject by forest and desert because of them being mixed, desert not being access to book and even Cyno said his scholarship was complicated because he is from desert
If you wish to continue, please send me DM with arguments. I don't know if I would change my mind of not drawing Kinich pale, but I am super interested about what you have to say !! 👍👍
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Kyle Broflovski x Bratty F!Reader SMUT for April!!! <3
Look. Kyle considered himself to be a generally patient person.
Although, he did know that depending on who he asked, some people might say that was complete and utter bullshit.
Whatever. The point was that he had patience. If not in general, at least for you.
Which was why it frustrated him when you acted like a brat.
He was patient with you, and generally, he didn’t like to be super rough with you. He didn’t like to ruin you. Not on purpose, anyway. Kyle liked to worship you, treat you like a precious little doll that needed his protection.
And yet you still acted like this even when he treated you like a precious, sweet angel. His angel, his doll, his princess.
Kyle had thoughts when you walked out of your house in a shirt that showed off the curve of your breasts and a skirt that didn’t leave that much to the imagination, but he didn’t say anything. Figured, hey. Maybe you weren’t doing it on purpose.
But when you went out and he caught you leaning forward toward your friends, giggling and twirling your hair and pushing your arms together to force your breasts together?
Yeah. He knew what the fuck you were doing.
So, he stood up and grabbed your arm to yank you along with him. He told his friends that he just remembered that you two had something you had to do, something about a project or something. It was a good enough excuse, considering they all bought it.
Kyle was dead silent until he got you in the car, and then he shook his head while he started the car. He pressed his foot on the gas pedal, eyes narrowed at the road.
“I really cannot fucking believe you sometimes,” Kyle snapped, his knuckles white from how tight he was holding the steering wheel. “I mean, I saw the outfit and thought it was weird, but whatever.”
He shook his head. “But whatever the hell that was?” Kyle scoffed. “You are such a brat sometimes.”
You knew Kyle was mad and nothing you could say would make it any better, so you chose to stay quiet and let Kyle vent out his irritations anyway.
When you got home, he dragged you into your bedroom and sat down on his bed. Then, he bent you over his lap without another word.
“Count.”
His words left no room for argument, so you took a breath. Kyle’s hand came down hard on your ass. You gasped and writhed, but Kyle kept you firmly in place.
“One,” you said, voice shaking some.
“Good girl. Keep going.” Kyle said as he rubbed your ass before hitting again.
He got to fifteen. You were sobbing and trembling as you whimpered out the number.
“Shh, shh,” Kyle cooed as he soothingly rubbed your ass. “See? Good girl. You know why I had to do that, don’t you?”
His words were softly spoken and sweet. A direct contrast to the previous actions he’d made.
You sniffled and nodded. You did know. It’s why you’d been such a brat all day anyway - you wanted his attention. No matter what that meant.
“I don’t really know that you’ve really learned anything though,” Kyle clicked his tongue. “For all I know, you’ll just do this again the minute I stop touching you.”
His hand snaked down the curve of your ass and between your delicate folds, fingers probing at your cunt. He dipped two fingers inside you and began to gently rub them against your spot. His fingers were long, nimble, and they felt fucking fantastic.
Fantastic to the point that you whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you, coated in your juices. You moaned as you watched him suck his fingers clean.
And then, he pulled you off his lap and onto the bed. He pulled his own pants down and lined himself up with your entrance.
“Stay fuckin’ still, alright?” Kyle cursed as he pushed into you. Even through your lusty haze, you could tell he was still irritated with you for your brattiness.
You let out a broken moan as he pushed into you slowly, then began rocking his hips into you.
“God, you’re so tight,” Kyle groaned, “you’d be so perfect if you weren’t such a little brat.”
You whined softly as Kyle used your body, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“God, See?” Kyle panted. “You can be such a good girl, yeah? All tight and wet. Just for me, huh, princess?”
You moaned at his words and nodded swiftly. “Jus’ for you,” You managed to say between moans, feeling your walls starting to flutter.
Kyle shook his head and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “Don’t,” he whispered his warning. “Not ‘til I say you can. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”
You whine desperately, but you nodded. And Kyle grinned, knowing he’d forced you back into submission. Back into his sweet, darling little angel that would listen to every word that fell from his lips.
You were so tense with the effort of trying to hold back your orgasm, you genuinely thought you might explode into teeny tiny little pieces.
And Kyle’s movements became more desperate and erratic.
If you were able to think about anything other than keeping your pleasure at bay, you would have known that Kyle was close. You would have known that he was moments away from painting your inner walls a milky white.
Kyle pushed his lips against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. They graze your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine, and you swore he was trying to kill you with the way he nipped at you.
“Sweetheart,” Kyle breathed. You could feel him grinning against your ear, and you felt like you were going insane with need and desperation. “I think you’ve earned it. Don’t you? You’re being so good and sweet for me.”
You gasped, but you still held off. Waiting for Kyle to actually say the words.
And say them, he did.
“Cum for me,” He nipped at your earlobe. “Come on, princess. Cum for me. You’ve earned it. Come on, baby.”
You swore to whatever god might fucking be out there, you blacked out.
Your orgasm was intense. You dragged your nails down Kyle’s back, sure to leave bright red marks for at least a few days. You practically screamed, chanting his name like it was a prayer to the only thing that mattered in that moment: him.
As your hole fluttered and clenched around him, it milked Kyle’s orgasm out of him. He came inside you with a deep groan, and he wrapped his arms around your torso, yanking you closer as he pulsed, filling you up with hot and sticky cum.
You both laid like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and coming back to yourselves.
Kyle pulled out of you with a groan and smiled as he cradled your cheeks in his hands.
“You are fucking perfect. C’mon, shower.”
With that, he gently grabbed your arms to help you to the bathroom.
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