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goodbysunball · 7 months

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Parched & parcel

Things are getting noticeably heavier and weirder, and we're the better for it. Some metal, finally, paired with some fine Aussie experimental noise and a band that'll make you believe in the dream of NYC again. It's the best season for this kind of stuff, so dive in.

dprk, Shitville Tourist LP (Studio Fabrik)

May I introduce to you Shitville Tourist (title of the year) by dprk, apparently a duo of Nick Dan (xNoBBQx) and Richard Fielding (Severed Heads) with support from a few mates. It feels like a journey in time back to where Twisted Village and Kye once roamed, where the journey largely justified the end product and the listener could take it or end up spending big later. While there is no question this record took me a few listens to unravel, what didn't take much to pique my interest was the gentle loop on "Crazy Little Corkscrew," something that sounds like a lullaby played with a steel drum, being poked and prodded by various electronics over its seven minutes. The track, like all four tracks on here, doesn't really go anywhere over its duration, but floats, writhes, twists and soaks in the sounds being made: pure joy in the noise made by machines. The title track and "Blumen Schmerz" are darker, more cavernous, where synths bleep and blot and drum machines whirr and exhale steam, creating the illusion of life where there is none. The latter has some creepy guitar parts splayed out on the pulsing synth backbone, but the investigation leads to no further conclusions; there is no categorization here. The finale, "Gulag In Space," provides not only another great title but a track nearly worthy of dancing, especially after the mind-fuck of the first three tracks. The beat bounces off all surfaces, as slippery as the rest of the record, but there is a sparkle on "Gulag" that winks at the listener as Shitville Tourist winds down. Something magnetic, or just plain alien, about the whole affair, but whatever it is, the sheer number of times I've played this have more than justified the hefty price tag. Great debut; let's hope for more from these true underground freaks.

Excarnated Entity, Mass Grave Horizon LP (Nuclear Winter)

Greece's Nuclear Winter puts out a ton of releases, so much that I've seemingly looked them over in the last few years. But taking stock, they've been responsible for the physical releases of a number of near-and-dear U.S.-based death metal acts like Blasphematory, the mighty Anhedonist, and now, Excarnated Entity. Excarnated Entity features a former member of Anhedonist, and there's definitely a similar approach to death metal with the two acts: mournful, grandiose but without the heavy-handed use of keyboards or Gregorian chant-like vocals. Excarnated Entity is also singularly focused on the horrors of war - not to be confused with the glorification of such in war metal - and provides ample heft to the incalculable loss of life. The band's demo, also reissued by Nuclear Winter in 2020, was a good primer for their debut LP, but the LP is devastating. The instrumental opener "Abjection" runs an elegant Mournful Congregation-style guitar line into the ground, simultaneously distraught and triumphant, and sets the stage for the rest. For anyone paying attention to the recent death-doom resurgence, Mass Grave Horizon fits right in and sets itself up near the top of that heap. While I think that there's a bit of momentum wasted in the middle section of "Corridor of Flame," that's really the only complaint I can level at the record. Everything else is properly filthy: gurgling vocals over blastbeats slam headfirst into downtuned chugging riffs, and a elegiac solo rises from the cracks in the pointlessly blood-stained soil. It's between "Irradiated Shadows" (the part before the solo, yeesh) and the punishing title track for my favorites here, but there's not a dud in the bunch. It's worth noting that the band does four-minute sprints as well as they can stretch tracks out to twice that length - a versatility that elevates Excarnated Entity above the one-note lifers rehashing the same formula on every track. Bleak, miserable and, given the state of the world, timely death-doom is what you get on Mass Grave Horizon, and if you think you've heard it before, it's worth hearing again in this singularly focused and dimming light.

VoidCeremony, Threads of Unknowing LP (20 Buck Spin)

I've got to give Nic at Repressed Records credit for pushing this one, as anything combining descriptors like "jazz" and "prog" with "metal" usually makes me run for the hills. But, this new VoidCeremony LP is checking all the boxes while flirting with all of the above, while (as Nic notes) throwing in a fretless bass solo on nearly every song to boot. The band plays death metal, firstly, and while there are some space-y outros and instrumentals, everything feels of a piece rather than forcing together disparate parts. The label press mentions that the band plays "with the gliding, controlled chaos and smooth fluidity of a jazz quartet," and that checks out, but I don't smell anything particularly jazzy about the record. Rather, I get a big whiff of Gorguts when listening to this record, another band that seamlessly combined progressive, thrash and death metal with grooves, resulting in something impressively complex without making it feel like a homework assignment. "Writhing in the Facade of Time" probably best displays all of these aspects, from the fading-in tech-death opener, to the sky-scraping guitar solos, to the crushing close of the track before the group's whisked away on a mystical Moog coda. The band shifts from strength to strength without any bloat, and just as importantly, without any clean vocals. Threads of Unknowing is my go-to workout record this year, the fluidity of the drumming providing blastbeat stress and necessary space in equal measure. Strap in, take a trip; whether you buy into the lyrics or overarching theme is up to you, but either way it's one of the most thrilling death metal records of the year.

Weak Signal, War&War LP (12XU)

Cool "reissue" of an album digitally released in 2022, hopefully given a wider reach with the push of 12XU. War&War is Weak Signal's third LP, and it sounds like a band comfortable with themselves, their capabilities and their sound: they can rip off a garage-punk track like "Don't Think About It" and slow things to a simmer on "Consolation" with ease. That the band sounds so self-assured did make this record feel a little too easy the first few times; but, like label mates Lewsberg, the complexity of the tracks shines through on iterative spins. Seemingly small choices like the backing vocal melody on "Names" or the sparkling Cass McCombs guitar on "Spooky Feeling" begin to feel like bold, powerful moves amidst the background of resignation/resilience across the album. The mostly spoken, barely sung vocals paired with the often bluesy guitar lines give the record a rough, workingman feel - which, for me, means that things ain't going your way but what are you gonna do about it - but there's no glory in it, just a general disdain for how things are. It's definitely a bit of a downer, though I think the band would prefer "realist," and two lyrics from the middle of the record seem illustrative of the this approach: "I'm no weirdo/I'm no freak/but things keep happening to me" from "Songworld," and "If you think I care/that's where you're wrong" from "Yr Deal." I don't find that the lyrics convey apathy, rather an infinite patience or aplomb in the face of everything spinning uncontrollably off-axis. War&War feels similar in spirit to what True Widow was doing on the heavy sigh of As High as the Highest Heavens..., though without the depressive bent of that record. A bit of despair creeps in on the cover of Johnny Thunders' "It's Not Enough," which bleeds into the gray, abstract noise of the title track, but the band puts their dukes up again on closer "Who the Hell Are U?," a fitting end to the record to reinforce the group's street savvy instincts. Weak Signal's delivered a doozy, and one of my favorite new-to-me discoveries of the year so far.

#dprk #Excarnated Entity #Nuclear Winter #VoidCeremony #20 Buck Spin #Weak Signal #12XU Records

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michiganmerchant · 1 year

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web weaving or whatever

#last night my brain had two thoughts collide like atoms producing a nuclear fission in the form of THEE most insane trope to ME which is #pet psychopath and his even crazier handler -> brandt and luke respectively #watching brandt get at it with an OHL dad over the boards during the playoff like YEAHHH that's my dman with character issues #SO BEAUTIFUL. and the tsn video too. god. the one where he gets into a playfight but ends up spinning the dude around #the potential is THERE and i am cooking up SO many scenarios in my head i am actually going insane.#when you're the kid who used to beat up your brothers friends during street hockey and you were called a pitbull like CMONNNN #it's not that luke doesnt have character issues its just that it was trained out of him by ellen who would NEVER let that fly but unlike hi #lady byng finalist brother and his +2 penalty drawing brother luke has ZERO compulsions actually shithousing someone #and he's such a bitch about it too. he's more of a bitch than his two brothers combined. if penalties weren't a thing in real life #the clarke/hughes dpairing would be the most rat bastard shithousery penalty drawns tandem in the LEAGUE thats my inteprid take #and the thing about pet psychopath and his even crazier handler is it that the devotion goes CRAZYYYYYY #brandt going fucking insane and luke having to haul him off before he starts beating up the dude himself like NOBODY FUCKS WITH MY BABY!!!#even if my baby started it lol. if brandt's crazy luke is batshit insane and then brandt has to go haul luke off before he gets kicked out #someone tries to chirp brandt over him fighting for luke constantly and brandt is like :) you're fucking lucky it's not luke #because CRUCIALLY luke is the better fighter. again. his even crazier handler. always ready to answer for brandt's attitude #in the locker room brandt like good job baby that was so sexy of you to right hook him -> rest of the devs staring in horror #JUST SOMETHING ABOUT COMING TO BLOWS FOR YOUR MAN!!! LOOKING UP AT HIM WITH A SMILE FULL OF BLOOD LIKE DID I DO GOOD? DID I MAKE YOU PROUD?#AND THEM RESPONDING WITH 100% RECIPROCATION. OH IT WAS ALWAYS ABOUT THE RECIPROCATION.#need them to be fucking bitches on the ice beating everyone up that would be so sexy to me!!!#the brandt/luke agenda #thinking. perhaps even thoughting. thunking.

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kumomist · 3 months

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GENDER LOCKED POWERS AND HAVING TO ACCEPT THAT YOU HAVE A POWER DUE TO THE SEX YOU WERE BORN AS BUT IDENTIFYING AS A GENDER OPPOSING THAT

#txt #oscar from the witch and the beast and lucas from bokura no kiseki #the way both of them have value in their blood due to their bloodlines dhjdbdjd #witch blood being yummy to vampires or something. princess blood being valuable for a nuclear bomb spell. hrghdhjdbd #ok i was kindof literal with the witchs blood hdjdhd but basically theyre desired to betaken advantage of/objectified?#and also as a political tool #amel is actually kindof the opposite… being born with a power that is dysphoric with your gender and being forced to present as not that #… would that be kindof an intersex metaphor actually #AMEL IS LIKE THAT FERTILE MALE CALICO FHKDBDJD #oh saiki too? i read somewhere that the reason his powers are unstable is cause psychic is more suitable to females #so the reason he needs the attenae clips is cause he transitioned and his power isnt compatible with his body #..alternate spin in why saiki dislikes his powers (dysphoria)#...regeneration isnt genderlocked but togata also hated his power (prevented him from transitioning)#ALTERNATIVELY YJK BEING ABLE TO USE BREAK THE SKY ARTS WHATEVER HDJDND

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sgtjamesrogers · 10 months

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can i be brave for a sec and wonder why people are So angry about the dash layout changing. it's not ideal but also it. it just looks like it did in 2018

#can we really act like we're the 'roaches surviving nuclear disaster' webbed site...#aren't there larger site wide coding and administrative problems besides this we could be like. yelling about.#anyone know if the xkit spin off still works?#jesse shitposts

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doomsdayradio · 2 years

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thesuitofspades -> histrionictommy -> fishinabirdcage -> osddventi -> enbybur -> qikaros -> orestiada -> wingbur -> avpdjunebug -> histrionicwilbur

icon by @/ghostly-tart

watch out if youre triggered by talk of suicide, self-harm, abuse and homicidal thoughts👍

basics

✎ system name: the poker system

✎ collective name: poker, chorus

✎ collective pronouns: they/them, he/him

✎ collective gender identity: genderqueer

✎ collective sexuality: queer, aroacespec, lesbian

✎ system modifiers: traumagenic, did, polyfragmented, introject-heavy, non-human heavy

✎ other neurodivergencies: adhd, autism, dyscalculia, hpd, bpd, npd, maladaptive daydreaming disorder

✎ fronters

tags

words words words !! - text tag

hopepunk - humanity and hope tag

posi tag - positivity for us

note to self - reminders for us

stim tag - stimboards ect ect

fav - favorites tag

laugh rule - the haha funny

curtains - favorite/chosen person tag

genre - favorite/chosen person tag

2 years - favorite person tag

pay attention - attention person tag

home sweet home - comfort tag

self-fulfilling prophecy - uscore tag

feel free to ask what any other specific tags mean 👍 im just not comfortable listing them all in my pinned post because a lot of them are trauma related

dni: basic dni, terfs/radfems, queer exclus/anti-mogai, strictly pro-endo, self-identified mixed origins/multigenic systems (unless interacting with a syscourse post), people who believe did/osdd-1 specifically can be nontraumagenic (unless interacting with a syscourse post), aggressively anti-endo, people who believe in narc abuse or an flavor of [pd] abuse

we consider ourselves syscourse unaligned, we dont support harrassment or fakeclaiming on either side. we believe in the medicalization of systemhood but not the medicalization of plurality itself/we believe in nontraumagenic plurality but dont believe osddid itself can be nontraumagenic and believe endogenic plurals should use different non-medical terms. we're neutral/complex on the use of the term sysmed but either way we'd prefer it if you didnt refer to us as a sysmed as it makes us uncomfortable as a trans systems whos been hurt by transmed rhetoric, respect us and we'll respect you :)

we watch the dsmp/mcyt and have introjects from said media but we dont support dream himself and we consume all other creators mcyt or otherwise through a critical lense 👍

btw dont tag any of our posts as q slur if you dont want the word queer on your blog dont reblog my post lmao

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katsukikitten · 11 days

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cum here

Warnings: spit, dub con

A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!

A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.

A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.

Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.

You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.

Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.

Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.

Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.

Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.

He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..

Cum here.

“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.

Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?

And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.

Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.

You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?

Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.

Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.

Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.

At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.

Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.

Toxic, crystalline bromine.

"Dynamight?”

“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.

Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.

“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”

Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.

“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.

He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.

“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.

Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.

You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.

Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.

“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”

It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.

Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.

“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.

“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.

Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.

Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.

He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.

You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.

If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.

Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.

Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.

Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.

Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.

Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.

The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.

And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.

“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.

Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.

Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.

“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.

Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.

Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.

Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.

“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.

“Now I gotta return the favor.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou thirst #bakugou birthday bash #bakugou smut #tw dub con

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whats-in-a-sentence · 2 months

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When we place them in a powerful magnetic field, however, interactions between their nuclear spins and the applied magnetic field are quantised, and only two orientations are allowed (figure 20.21).

"Chemistry" 2e - Blackman, A., Bottle, S., Schmid, S., Mocerino, M., Wille, U.

#book quotes #chemistry #nonfiction #textbook #magnetic field #nuclear spin #alignment

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meteor-star · 1 year

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LOOK WHAT I BOUGHT

#uranium #spider spins #nuclear

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qualitativenotquantitative · 2 years

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Spinning Cows (and other sparkly feelings)

I didn’t know anything could feel like this Universes expanding and shrinking behind my ribs Entire cosmos swirling underneath my skin My heart is the proverbial cow in the tornado There’s magic in the drumming of my fingers

#thoughts #hope and nerves spinning around each other in a wobbly dance #there’s always the chance they’ll collide #it’s anyone’s guess what happens then #fusion! (not nuclear)

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seat-safety-switch · 22 days

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When people come to my town, they seem to assume that the Great Magnet is a metaphor, or a tourist trap at worst. I can assure you, dear reader, that it is neither. For reasons unknown to me, our town forefathers – and one foremother who tried to pull out of the project when she figured out which way the wind was blowing – built a really big electromagnet in the centre of town. And then they realized that there was no way to power it on.

For hundreds of years, it has sat immobile as Town Hall was built around it, just daring someone to devise a power supply stronger than those they had available in 1802. Sure, a lot of fancy-pants industrial designers tried to get the eight-storey-tall electromagnet removed. It clashed with their vision for the productive space. Thing is, the town's founding laws say "no touchy the magnet," so they couldn't do much about the magnet. The magnet, that is, and its massive copper lugs sticking out the back, begging for a little bit of hot sauce.

Now, even without electricity, a chunk of ferrous material this large has some strange effects. The weather around it is really cold, and occasionally seagulls will loop infinitely around it until they drop from exhaustion, their internal sense of navigation disrupted by some passing force that has coupled into the magnet and gently charged its field. During the town Egg Festival, you could occasionally hear the AM radio Community Events Cruiser's broadcast through its surface, until Shopkeeper Ted drunkenly touched the surface of the Great Magnet and was instantly reduced to ash.

We'll switch it on one day, we tell each other. Big nuclear plant just opened a few towns over, that's got enough beef to spin it up. And then we look around at all the cool shit we own that's made out of metal, more than there ever was over 200 years ago. We think about all the things we have to lose.

Sometimes, on the Magnet's annual anniversary night speech, The Mayor will sometimes try to scare us with the size of the power bill, the magnitude of our tax dollars, that it would take to let 'er rip, just this once, as if the spectre of a few bucks a month extra would discourage us further from turning on a machine that would cleave the world in half.

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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended.

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not.

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become.

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself.

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green.

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him.

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain.

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really.

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down.

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else.

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes.

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating.

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham.

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking.

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line.

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes.

Danny shivers and walks faster.

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty.

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers.

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park.

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin.

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman.

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say.

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes.

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile.

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate.

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world.

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate.

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers.

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice.

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says.

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding.

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air.

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again.

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke.

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance.

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to.

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten.

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life.

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise.

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the horror of knowing what kind of monster you are capable of becoming paired with the knowledge that your soulmate has suffered bc of you #and reasonably wants you dead/taken out of the picture not just for revenge but for the sake of everyone's safety #but also from duke's pov he's found a teenager wandering into gotham's last refuge. he looks strangely untouched by the end of the world.#hes looking for batman who duke watched die. and then it turns out that hes a younger version of the monster that ruined your life #(and everyone elses life) and realizes that this is who his soulmate once was #and then knowing that he either has to kill this innocent version of his soulmate or let his existence be unwritten #there is no happy ending for post-apoc duke's story #but he and danny get a second chance in a new timeline where things are better #doesnt mean the nightmares ever leave danny lol #thanks for the prompt!!

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