hey just a little reminder — sometimes when you’re in survival mode, living day by day is literally all you can do. it’s all you have space for. and then when you have the space and time and release to slowly start to come out of survival mode, you have to re-learn how to live with the future in mind. learning from your past. making your future self proud. doing things your future self will thank you for. and I don’t see a lot of people talking about how TERRIFYING that is. but it is. it’s really, really scary to plan and learn what healthy self discipline looks like and how to greet every version of yourself. and so if that’s you today — I’m very proud of you. there’s nothing shameful about relearning something. you’re doing so well! I’m so glad you got this far <3
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today i love the red metal crane in her long neck arching her body over the boston skyline, which means i am okay for a moment. when i am unwell, everything is a little ugly. i always tell myself look for the beauty but when it is bad, i will look at birds and sunsets and little ducklings and feel absolutely nothing.
when my brother got his puppy, i was in a deep depression. what kind of monster isn't affected by a puppy. i was gentle and kind to her - i just didn't have an emotional reaction. she's five now and i feel like i spend all of our interactions apologizing to her - i don't know why. i just didn't feel anything. how embarrassing. i feel like if i admit that, i'll seem cruel and jaded. it comes in waves. like, two months ago when i went out into the world - it was like that. life behind a pane of stormglass. a firework could go off over your head - nothing. like dead skin, no reaction. not to ice cream or rainbows or baby chickens. life foggy and uninteresting.
i love goslings again. i love their little webbed feet splayed over grass. i love good food and live music and long walks. i like puppies. i feel like some kind of my soul has been starved - i keep staring at everything with wide eyes, trying to burrow the sensation into my stomach. it's real. beauty is real. when it's bad again, remember this. i stop and smell the flowers, feeling cliche in the moment. i like the white-to-red ombre of my neighbor's roses. i like colorcoding and yoga and cold drinks. i try to pass my hands over every moment, feeling like i'm squeezing joy out of every instant. remember this. for the love of god, it's real - just remember this.
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Danny Fenton is fourteen when he dies. He's fifteen when he ceases to exist.
All traces of Danny Fenton just gone. No records, no photos, no memories. It's like he was never born. Naturally, without Danny to turn on the portal comes no ghosts, so no Danny Fenton also means the GIW never came to be. Time is carefully set back on Amity Park. There are no longer any ghost sirens, charms, merch, or cracks in the pavement from Vlad knocking him out of the sky or scorch marks on the side of buildings from Skulker's stray shots.
The Fenton's only have one child, a smart, ginger woman who's pursuing psychology in some top-league out of state college like Harvard or Yale or Brown. There's no little brother to keep her confined to the little town in nowhere Illinois where she was born.
Sam and Tucker never became friends, because there was no Danny Fenton to bring them together.
The Fenton's portal never turns on, so they focus their research on the ambient ectoplasm in the air around them. They become leading scientists in clean energy. Ectoplasm is the perfect resource; endlessly reusable, infinite supplies that never deplete, no negative effects on the environment.
Danny Fenton is no one. There is no Danny Fenton. There never was.
And the world is better for it.
Danny doesn't exist, there is no place for him, nowhere for him to go.
This was the only way to stop the GIW from starting a war with the Infinite Realms. It was the only solution.
It still hurts.
Danny is fifteen. He has no last name anymore, no family, no friends, and no home. He could live in the Ghost Zone, but he doesn't want to. He's still human, even if it's only half. He doesn't want to go. It feels final, like turning his back once and for all on all he knew and was.
So he does the only thing he can think to do and watches the stars.
In the frozen tundra, no one around for miles, Phantom lays in the snow and stares up into the speckled darkness. He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe. He stays so completely still he's entirely dead.
The snow doesn't bury him. The sun never rises.
It doesn't stop snowing.
Danny doesn't exist.
He's dead.
What is he supposed to do now? Go and be Prince of the In Between? He doesn't want to. He wants to go home. He wants to cuddle up with Jazz and play Doomed with Sam and Tucker. He wants to hug his dad. He wants his mum to sing to him like she used to when he was little enough they still tucked him into bed.
Maybe he just won't do anything. Maybe he'll just stay here forever, not Danny or Phantom and far from alive. Just nothing. He's nothing. Nothing and no one.
---
Nobody can see the sun.
It's still there, of course. All you need to do is leave the atmosphere and bam, there it is. On Earth though? No sign of it.
It's like they've fallen into an eternal night.
Best part?
It's caused by very powerful magic.
Listen, Batman has a lot of patience. A lot. But it's been two weeks of this, Zatanna's off-world, Constantine's only just answered his goddamn phone and the planet has collectively decided panic is the only course of action. He's been Bruce Wayne for a collective ten hours in the past fourteen days. It's ridiculous.
Thankfully it only takes Constantine a few minutes to track the source to somewhere in the Antarctic after he finally shows up.
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