We currently have eight fics to remix, which will be linked in this post. Remember that the theme this year is drabbles, so all of the initial fics are 100 words long, and the challenge is to remix with a drabble of your own! Edit for clarification: Your remix can be any length you desire. Drabbles are just an extra challenge!
But first, what is a remix?
Have you ever read an amazing fic and wanted to have a go at it yourself, but felt too shy or like you’d be doing something wrong? Have you ever seen the Two Cakes comic and wistfully remembered a oneshot someone wrote that you wish you could continue? Do you want to show an author you love their work to the point of your own creation, but you don’t know how to make fanart?
This is your opportunity to give something new a try!
When you remix a fanfiction, you write a piece based directly off the fic. There are many ways to do this, and the ones accepted in this event are as follows.
POV Flip - Retelling the same events from a different character's point of view.
Role Reversal - Swapping the roles of two key characters. An example would be remixing a fic where Valerie hunts Danny, by turning Valerie into the hunted and Danny into the hunter in your version.
Sequel/Prequel - The events leading up to or following the fic. This would typically overlap with either the start or end of the original.
Genre Change - Changing the fic to a different genre. An example could be changing a modern day canon setting to medieval fantasy or to a space opera.
For Want of a Nail - One small detail at the beginning of fic is changed, causing things to happen differently.
One Crucial Detail - Focus on what you think is the most important detail of the fic for a character’s point of view, and let everything else fall away.
Guidelines for Remixing
There are no sign ups or restrictions on who can participate. All skill levels are welcome!
For this event, we will be doing gen fics only. This is to create a space where everyone can enjoy the pieces regardless of shipping preferences. Potential future iterations of this event may include a shipping option.
Other types of remixes are okay if the author of the oneshot specifies that in their fic description.
Three things cannot be changed - who the characters are, the basic setting, and the basic plot.
Please keep your pieces rated T and under, and use all appropriate trigger warnings.
No direct plagiarism - you need to write things in your own words for the fic to be included in the collection. It’s okay to quote some dialogue or a key sentence or two, especially if you’re writing overlapping scenes, but your fic should mostly be your own words.
Please do not use AI! This event is to celebrate the joy of the creative writing process. AI writing does not have a place here.
In the spirit of the event, crossovers should be avoided unless the author specifically states on their fic that they would be okay with them. In future years we may introduce a crossover category, but for now, avoiding crossovers makes your pieces more accessible to everyone in the fandom.
This event is designed for writers. However, if artists wish to participate, then they can also feel free to do so. Pictures will be reblogged to the @infiniterealms tumblr, and should follow the same posting requirements as written fics.
There is no limit to how many pieces anyone writes.
For posting, you can either post on tumblr and tag the infinite realms blog, or you can post on ao3, where we have a collection here! The initial fics are also included in this collection.
List of initial fics
Tit for Tat, by @v-writes
MDA, by @camels-pen
It seethes beneath her skin, by @bibliophilea
Stuck, by @echoghost1
Moult, by @jackdraw-spwrite
Regalia, by @five-rivers
Something New, by @oofouchstovehot
Ritual, by @lexiepiper
Enjoy remixing! I'm excited to see what everyone comes up with this year!
The event will officially end at the end of February, but anyone can feel free to remix at any time.
Thank you to everyone who has participated so far! Apologies if I've missed reblogging any, please feel free to nudge me if needed.
For anyone still interested in remixing one of our fabulous drabbles in the pinned post, there's still plenty of time! I'm excited to see what else y'all come up with!
Written as part of the Infinite Realms remix event! The original fic by @lexiepiper is here.
You can also read this fic on my AO3.
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CW: Decapitation, other mild body horror
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Danny woke gasping, a searing pain radiating through his neck. His hands went up, fingers seeking, the chains bound around his wrists jingling like bells, beads of hot wax sliding down his arms. A heavy collar was wrapped around his neck, cold and comforting. The upper part cupped his chin and jaw and curved to touch the base of his skull. The lower part flared to rest on his breastbone and shoulders, distributing its weight.
It was unexpected. So much so that, for a long moment, Danny forgot he hadn’t expected to wake up at all.
.
Mr. Lancer would be stunned if he could see Danny now, curled up in a floating armchair in Clockwork’s extensive library and reading a history book thicker than his palm was wide. True, he’d probably be more stunned about the location Danny was in than the book, but once he got over the levitating books and green glass and gilt lanterns, he’d probably ask Danny why he hadn’t done his readings for class, if this was what he read in his free time.
Well. Danny wondered the same thing. He hadn’t found a really satisfying answer. It wasn’t as if Danny wanted to be a fifth year senior, left behind as his friends went off to college. The only thing he could think of was that ghost history seemed so much more relevant than whatever he was supposed to be learning about in school. He was never going to hold down a proper job in the real world, but stuff from Ghost Zone history kept jumping out at him and trying to kill him.
Although he wasn’t reading about something that was likely to kill him this time.
He ran his finger under the relevant passage, reading it again. At first, he’d thought it was an exaggeration or something local, but now…
He floated up out of the chair. Clockwork rarely gave straightforward answers, but he did give answers, if Danny asked the right questions.
At this time, Clockwork would be working in the viewing chamber. Danny knew the way without even paying attention, his eyes still on the book, reading onwards in case he had misunderstood, or the answer was written nearby. He knew the halls of Long Now well enough not to worry about bumping into walls.
“Clockwork,” he called out, as soon as he reached the viewing chamber, “why is it that the Ghost Zone is so different in old books? Like, I thought it was talking about a Realm at first, but this makes it sound like the whole Zone had trees and fields and…”
He looked up and trailed off, belatedly realizing that Clockwork wasn’t alone. Undergrowth, of all ghosts, was sprawled across the room, vines trailing up the walls and picking at the stonework.
“You can’t say he didn’t ask, now, Clockwork,” said Undergrowth in his awful, hoarse voice. “Go on, tell him.”
Danny floated back, cautious. He didn’t think Clockwork would let Undergrowth just attack him, but he didn’t know for sure. Sometimes the rules Clockwork operated by were… incomprehensible.
“Tell me what?” asked Danny.
Clockwork sighed heavily, a very put-upon expression on his face. “The Infinite Realms did indeed look and behave differently in the past.”
“Why?” asked Danny.
“Yes, tell him why, Clockwork,” said Undergrowth.
Clockwork glared at him. It was a subtle expression, but Danny could identify it. “Very well. The reason is Pariah Dark.”
Danny rocked backwards. “I thought the stuff about him destroying the Realms was, like, figurative?” He hadn’t realized Pariah had that much power. He might have hesitated more before going to fight him.
“Much of it was,” said Clockwork. “But the cause of the destruction was not so much Pariah’s power, but his lack of responsibility.”
“A responsibility that now falls to you,” interjected Undergrowth.
Clockwork hissed, a ghostly reaction that Danny had never actually seen from him before. “We agreed that would be his choice.”
“Um,” said Danny. “What?”
“Explain it, then,” said Undergrowth. “Properly.”
Clockwork turned his back on Undergrowth, deliberately. “There is a rite that is meant to be performed by the King of Ghosts. One that nourishes the Realms and provides a connection to the Infinite. It is a rite of blood and sacrifice, whereby the king must bleed for his kingdom and become its voice, although in days when it was properly maintained, year after year, the price was a small one. Pariah Dark felt that it was beneath his dignity to submit to the Infinite Realms in such a way, and so he refused to do it, even as they decayed around him, the damage to the lands only accelerated and equaled by what he inflicted upon the people.”
“And it’s gotten worse since he’s been in the sarcophagus and couldn’t do it even if he wanted to?” guessed Danny.
“Indeed. We Ancients thought that the chances of Pariah ever performing the ritual were low enough that the potential good was far outweighed by the harm he was doing, and so, we imprisoned him.”
“Okay,” said Danny, slowly. His eyes flicked to Undergrowth. “So, why does he think it’s my problem all of a sudden?”
“Because you defeated him, in an accepted challenge made before witnesses, having led an army–”
“Everyone keeps calling it an army,” said Danny, “but it was just a bunch of people who showed up. I think you need a little bit more organization to be called an army.”
“Then what would you call it?” asked Clockwork.
“I don’t know. A mob?”
“Having led an army,” repeated Clockwork, “to fight his to a standstill. Such a feat falls under the law of conquest.”
“Which is…?”
“You have the right to the throne, boy,” said Undergrowth, annoyed, “and with it, the responsibility to the Realms.”
“Wait, really?” asked Danny, looking to Clockwork for confirmation.
“Indeed.”
“Wow. That’s an even worse system than a random woman in a pond lobbing swords at people.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But I guess I’m… I mean… How much worse is this thing going to get? With the Zone, Realms, however you want to say it, falling apart?”
“Is it not bad enough now?” demanded Undergrowth. “There is nowhere for my children to grow freely.”
Clockwork hummed. “It will not happen quickly, by how you measure things, Daniel, but the islands will crumble, taking with them the last coherent societies. Doors will cease to form and begin to fail. New ghosts will cease to come into being. Old ghosts will fade. Eventually, even the Realms, the dimension itself, will… starve.”
“That’s not good,” said Danny, feeling slightly ill. Didn’t his parents show him a simulation where the destruction of the Ghost Zone destroyed their reality as well. The dimensions, universes, whatever, were bound together.
“It is not.”
“So… How, uh. I’ve got to bleed for this? You said it wasn’t very much.” He didn’t mind bleeding, or else he wouldn’t be a superhero. “I guess I’m okay with blood sacrifice or whatever, if it’s going to literally save reality?”
“It was not much when the ritual was completed regularly,” corrected Clockwork. “Small sacrifices may delay the end, but to prevent it and redress Pariah’s sins would require a much greater one.”
Danny was getting a really bad feeling about this. “How much greater?”
“The way that the sins of kings are often put right, even on Earth,” said Clockwork. “With an execution.”
“Oh, wow,” said Danny. “No wonder you didn’t want to say anything.”
“Daniel, do not rush into this decision,” said Clockwork, reaching out towards him.
“I’m not going to rush into dying,” snapped Danny, floating back. “Give me a little credit.” He paused, somehow embarrassed. “That is what you’re talking about, isn’t it? Killing me? Just, I don’t know, standing me in front of a firing squad, or going after me with one of your decorative scythes, or–” he gestured at Undergrowth, “--using me as fertilizer?”
“The traditional method is decapitation by sword,” said Clockwork.
“That’s so much better.”
“There will be benefits for your pathetic world as well, boy,” said Undergrowth. “If ghosts can be satisfied here, they won’t seek out portals.”
“Do not make your decision now,” said Clockwork, before Danny could respond to Undergrowth. “Go home. Think about it. It will take much longer than a human lifetime for the Infinite Realms to fail entirely. A dozen human lifetimes, easily.”
“But not too long,” growled Undergrowth. “In a year or less, even your sacrifice will not repair what has been broken, and our ends will be assured. That is what I came to discuss.”
Clockwork grimaced. “Indeed.”
“But no pressure?” said Danny. He laughed, because what else could he do? He wiped at his lips, which had somehow gone sweaty despite him still being in ghost form. “I– I have to go.”
He flew away from both Undergrowth and Clockwork, fading into invisibility with his desire to be not there. He didn’t know what to do with any of that.
.
For another week, he continued to not know what to do with it. He didn’t want to go back to Long Now, even if he was pretty sure Clockwork wouldn’t pressure him one way or another. Nocturn replacing his dreams with visions of what the Ghost Zone used to look like didn’t help. The Observants crowding into his room one night to give him the world’s worst presentation didn’t help either.
Even ignoring the part where he’d have to die, there were holes in the explanation he’d been given.
What did help, surprisingly, was careers class at school.
Danny had sat through it before. And failed it. Which was one of the reasons he was still here.
But as he clicked through the assignment, a survey of people working different kinds of jobs, none of which Danny would be able to actually do, he…
What was Danny going to do with his life, anyway? The only job he could really conceivably do was ghost hunting with Fentonworks, and he didn’t think he could stand working with his parents indefinitely. He hunted ghosts for free, anyway. Charging people for saving their lives might have been normal - Sam had pointed out the entire medical profession - but he couldn’t do that when the way he saved lives was still technically illegal. And it wouldn’t have been heroic.
What was more heroic than saving reality itself?
Clockwork had gone out of his way to say that no one Danny personally knew now would be alive when the world ended. But at the same time, that implied there would be people. People who wouldn’t even get the chance to become ghosts.
He wasn’t suicidal or anything, he just…
He went back to Long Now as soon as school ended.
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“Clockwork?”
“I am here, Daniel.” Clockwork drifted out from behind a grand clock face a story or two up, his tail curling mistily on the balcony beneath him. “You have come to ask an important question.”
“Well, as long as it’s important,” said Danny.
Clockwork watched him placidly, patiently. Danny licked his lips, and turned to study a cuckoo clock hanging near his elbow.
“It’s worse than dying, isn’t it? I mean,” he continued quickly, “ending. Fading. Passing on, whatever you want to call it. You wouldn’t have– Just dying wouldn’t have been bad enough for you to not ask me to do this. If me just dying would save an entire dimension, you would have asked that, right away.” He looked back up at Clockwork.
“Perhaps not right away,” murmured Clockwork, eyes half-lidded as he examined Danny. One of his hands wrapped loosely around the balcony’s railing. Danny wondered why he even had that. He could fly.
“You would have asked, though, and Undergrowth, Nocturn, and the Observants and the rest of them, they wouldn’t have cared.” Danny shuddered internally at the memory of the Observants’ analog slideshow of reasons why he should let himself get killed. “You couldn’t have convinced them to wait until I asked the right questions, or to actually respect my choice about whether or not to do it unless there was some kind of catch.”
“Many would consider dying a sufficient catch.”
“Clockwork,” said Danny, frustrated enough that it came out as half a growl.
This time, Clockwork looked away. “The sacrifice must be made willingly.”
“And?” pressed Danny, knowing there had to be something else.
“It is not a metaphor.”
“What isn’t?”
“Connecting to the Infinite. Acting as the voice of the Realms.” Clockwork held out a hand, and a luminous thread of ectoplasm bloomed above it, fraying at both ends and looping into itself. “The Infinite Realms, the Ghost Zone, has a will of its own. A will that has been silenced for as long as Pariah Dark has reigned. It will not release a new voice quickly.”
“So I’ll be… Overshadowed? How will that work if, you know.” He made a slicing motion at his throat. “Will it be just my head? How will that work without lungs? Actually, I know that not all of you guys have lungs, so how–?”
“Telekinesis, Daniel. Remember, you came to ask these questions. Do not hide from the answers.”
“Sorry,” said Danny. He threaded his fingers together, stalling, then flew up to join Clockwork on the balcony. “How does it work, though?”
“If the Infinite finds you worthy, it will heal you,” said Clockwork.
“And then overshadow me?” Simple death would be cleaner than an unknown amount of time being overshadowed. Thinking about it, he didn’t like the idea of something that wasn’t him walking around in his body until it got tired of it, but even with that, existing had to be better than… not.
“Possession would be a better term.” Clockwork drummed his fingers on the balcony railing. “You have connected with the Infinite before.”
“No I haven’t,” said Danny. He felt like he’d remember that.
“You have. Once. In the portal.”
Danny twitched, the memory of electricity racing up his arm, the portal beam shooting straight through his chest. “Oh.”
The hands on the grand clock face ticked. Seconds passed.
“Would it feel like that?” asked Danny. “All the time?”
“Perhaps,” said Clockwork. “I cannot read minds, and I see no future where you tell me.”
“Why… are you even telling me this? You’ve got to want the Ghost Zone to, you know, not have an apocalypse, and it’s not like I’d have figured this out by myself.”
“For the same reason we were willing to seal away all chances of saving this world with Pariah Dark.” Clockwork gave Danny a very thin smile. “Some trespasses are not to be contemplated, no matter the extremity.”
.
Danny breathed in, then out. These breaths might be the last he would ever take, and he savored them. The incense smoke swirled in dizzying patterns on his exhales, filled the depths of his lungs as he inhaled.
A gauzy, transparent cape hung from his shoulders, twinkling with captured starlight. The rest of his clothes were stately and black, with silver fittings. Mourning clothes, Clockwork had said.
He would not wear the Ring of Rage or the Crown of Fire. Those artifacts were too tainted by Pariah’s actions, and he didn’t want the power in the first place.
Even so, his outfit, his… regalia, was incomplete.
Clockwork held up one end of the chain, and the elegant cuff attached to it. The other end snaked into the shadows in the margins of the room and disappeared. It was one of four. The other three rested on a nearby low table, along with the smouldering incense. “These are shadow-forged, and they have no key. They are designed to close and never open.”
“Sounds like something hard to test,” said Danny.
Clockwork’s lips twitched upward. “It is,” he said. “Even if you should change your mind, these will stay with you, once you put them on.”
Danny bobbed his head in understanding, but didn’t make any move to take the cuff from Clockwork. “Pariah didn’t have anything like these.”
This time, Clockwork did laugh. “He could not countenance shedding a few drops of ectoplasm once a year. Do you think he would ever bear a visible sign that he might owe an obligation to someone else?”
“Not really,” said Danny. He licked his lips, then held out his left wrist, not quite looking at Clockwork or the cuff. “I don’t think I can…”
“Ah,” said Clockwork, floating slightly closer. “Of course.” With one hand, he held Danny’s hand, gentle, and with the other, he snapped the cuff in place.
Danny shuddered, a tingle racing up his arm and down his spine.
“Wisdom,” intoned Clockwork. He turned to the table and picked up the next cuff. Danny let his left hand drop to his side and gave Clockwork his right. The links jingled and clinked against the stone floor. “Justice,” said Clockwork.
For the next two, Clockwork knelt, his tail coiling in on itself as he bent his back. “Courage,” said Clockwork, just as Danny’s foot twitched back by reflex.
He blushed. “Sorry.”
“The point of courage is not to be without fear.”
“I know, I know, that’s such a cliche,” said Danny, still blushing.
“There is a reason for that,” said Clockwork, already bending over Danny’s other foot. “Temperance.” He floated back up. “May these virtues guide your hands and your path.”
“Mhm,” said Danny. He rubbed his right thumb over the silver surface of the left hand cuff.
“I will wait for you at the altar,” said Clockwork, briefly resting his hands on Danny’s shoulders. “Come when you are ready.”
There was a joke there, about weddings and runaway brides, but Danny couldn’t quite bring himself to make it. He nodded.
.
The room was full of ghosts, because something like this needed to be witnessed. The chains trailed behind him, the unseen ends moving to disappear under the feet and tails of the crowd between glances. Candles floated everywhere, acting as both illumination and crowd control - even ghosts didn’t like to be burnt, and the candles clearly delineated the space where the spectating ghosts were supposed to be.
The far end of the room was raised, a set of stone steps leading up to a sort of stage. On the stage was an eerily white altar, and to one side of the altar was Clockwork, holding a sword whose blade had been polished to a mirror shine.
Danny took a deep breath and started walking.
.
Danny’s chest pulsed with something that was not his heartbeat, and his hands stilled. They fell to… armrests. Armrests… He was in a chair? He was sitting.
The thing in his chest pulsed again, more urgently, sending electric pins and needles down one arm, and his eyes fluttered open. He was sitting on the stage, in the same room, looking out over the same ghosts. Candles rested on his shoulders and legs, and as he watched, more settled on his arms, now that they were still.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Clockwork, hovering to one side, the sword no longer in his hand. He wanted to call out to Clockwork, to say something, to ask about the candles or the throne, because they hadn’t discussed either, when they were making preparation, but he… couldn’t.
There was another pulse, painful, this one seeming to come from inside and outside him at the same time. He licked his lips. He could taste blood.
“At long last,” he said, and the words weren’t his, weren’t ones he had chosen. They tore from his throat like they were made of razors. “I can speak.”
His lips stretched in a smile. Something wet ran over them. The pulsing pressure was increasing, both inside and out. He felt like he was being compressed, his senses blurring.
“Let My first edict of this new reign be that Pariah Dark, the traitor who betrayed Me, be cast down in entirety. Let nothing praising him or his works remain. Let his name be a synonym for ignominity and shame. Let it be forgotten. And My second edict…” Danny’s voice trailed off as his tongue licked at the bloody wetness. “Let every honor be reserved for this new king, who has faced Me with dignity, thereby saving you all.” His laugh sounded oddly distant to Danny. “Reserved, because it will be much time indeed until he shall enjoy them. Isn’t that right, Clockwork?”
“That is correct,” said Clockwork.
Danny laughed again, though he could barely hear it. His head ached with pressure, and his chest and arm burned almost like they had in the moments immediately after his accident in the portal. There was something else, too, a sort of enormity opening up inside him, pulling close, promising pain if it touched, with the sincerity of memory. The only thing he could feel for sure was the cold, anchoring weight of the collar holding his neck together.
“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked, very faintly. “Call the scribes. I have been thinking up edicts for hundreds of years!”
A remix for the @infiniterealms event! This is a remix of @oofouchstovehot's fic here.
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“Dash Baxter?”
“Here,” said the boy, bored.
Well. It wasn’t as if role call was anything special.
“Rebecca DeLise?” That, at least, was a new name, just transferred in from Spengler High. Lancer looked up to make note of who she was.
“Here.”
“Very good,” said Lancer, eyes dropping back to his list. “Daniel…” He trailed off. They hadn’t taken him off the class list. The district had to wait ten days to drop a student from the roster without paperwork from their new school, but surely there was some kind of regulation or exception for when a student had–
“Here.”
Lancer’s head snapped up. There hadn’t been another Daniel on the list, so who could possibly have the poor taste to make that kind of joke?
None of the students were looking at Lancer. All of their faces were turned towards a desk at the very back of the classroom, which was occupied by a transparent and fading figure. In less than a second, it was entirely gone.
“Daniel?” repeated Lancer, weakly.
There was no response.
.
Jack and Maddie Fenton came to the school grim-faced and carrying dozens of devices each. Principal Ishiyama had forbidden anything that even looked like a weapon, even if it was after school hours, but it was probably Jasmine screaming at them on the school steps that actually kept them from bringing anything in.
They waved the machines all around Mr. Lancer’s classroom, then walked up and down the hallways. They didn’t call the… the apparition Daniel, or Danny, or anything like it. They used words like ‘ghost,’ ‘imprint,’ and ‘phantom.’
It put a bad feeling in Lancer’s stomach.
Finally, after hours of searching, Jack sighed. “Nothing,” he said. He gave Lancer a wry smile, nothing like the huge ones he used to throw about before… Daniel’s accident. The word death seemed wrong, somehow, after seeing… Well, it just seemed wrong.
“Probably just a transient echo,” continued Jack. “Amity Park’s got higher than usual levels of ambient ectoplasm, makes stuff like that easier. That’s… That’s why we moved here. You probably won’t see it again. Mads?”
“Just another few minutes,” said Maddie. “We can’t have something like that–” She broke off, and even at this angle Lancer could see her biting her lip.
“Mr. Lancer probably wants to get home,” said Jack.
“It’s fine,” said Lancer. It wasn’t, exactly, but he was having a hard enough time, and he’d only been Daniel’s teacher. If this was part of their grieving process, he wouldn’t begrudge it.
“No, no, we should get back to Jazz,” said Jack.
“Alright,” said Maddie. She pulled her goggles away from her eyes, leaving them perched on top of her head as she rubbed her face.
Lancer watched them go before locking up the school, and for a moment he thought– But that, at least, must have been a trick of the light.
.
Or, perhaps, not.
“Hamlet,” whispered Lancer under his breath, the fresh worksheet copies in his hand drooping as his grip went slack. He barely saved them from dropping, and when he looked back up, the ghost was gone.
He licked his lips, readjusted his grip on his papers, and decided not to tell the Fentons, this time.
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Unfortunately, Mr. Lancer wasn’t the only one at the school who had eyes.
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“Where did you see the phantom?” asked Fenton’s freak ghost hunting dad, sticking what looked like a tiny satellite dish into Dash’s face.
Dash guessed that the ghost hunters might not be freaks after all, though. They’d been right about ghosts, at least, which was…
It had been weird, hearing that Fenton had died in a freak accident last week, but it had made sense, and it wasn’t like Dash had been buddies with him or anything. He wasn’t taking time off from school, like the freak’s paradoxically hot older sister, or freaks two and three. He wasn’t a wimp.
But it had been weird. Dash had never known anyone dead before.
“Uh, you know, in the locker room.”
“What was it doing there?”
“I dunno,” said Dash, shrugging. He shot a glance at Principal Ishiyama, who looked as uncomfortable as he was. “He looked like he was trying to open his locker?” Fenton had always had trouble memorizing his combinations. It was one of the reasons it was so funny to ‘help’ him.
“There have been more and more sightings of the phantom,” said Fenton’s mom, scowling. “We might need to fumigate the whole building.”
“Absolutely not,” said Ishiyama. “I’ve already given you a lot of leeway with the–” she hesitated, “--situation, but we aren’t doing that.”
“But the longer we let this go on, the more stable the phantom will be,” said Fenton’s mom.
It was weird, hearing them call Fenton that. Phantom. It was almost like one of Dash’s old nicknames for him. Fentina. Fentoenail. Fentertainment Tonight. It was weird, hearing Fenton’s own parents say something like that.
“I don’t understand you,” said Ishiyama, throwing up her hands. “Isn’t that a good thing? Wouldn’t you get to talk to him, then? If it was my son–”
“That’s not our son!”
“Uh,” said Dash. “Can I go now?” He didn’t want to think about Ishiyama’s son, Kwan, his best friend, being… like that.
“Yes, of course, thank you, Dash, for letting us know about the sighting,” said Ishiyama, barely looking at him.
He left as quickly as he could.
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“Do you think we’ll see him today?” asked Star.
“Hope not,” said Valerie, poking at her lunch. “Ugh, why do I even bother trying with these school lunches?”
“Why not?” asked Star, surprised. Everyone seemed to want to get a glimpse of the Phantom of Casper High. Not many people could say that their school was certifiably haunted.
“Because it’s creepy,” said Valerie. “The way he’s just… There. What’s he even doing here? I wouldn’t be here if I were dead.”
Star shrugged. “Ghosts are supposed to be stuck where they were when they were alive, aren’t they?”
“Then shouldn’t he haunt his house?” Valerie shook her head and put down her fork, crossing her arms. “Also, he was, like, friends with Foley, and Foley was always hanging around outside the locker rooms, asking people to go out with him. Makes my skin crawl.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Star, scrunching up her nose. “He was. I forgot about that.”
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Jazz stood in the hallway and watched her brother try and fail to pick up a pencil.
It was just as painful as it sounded.
For some reason, Mr. Lancer had put a worksheet on ‘his’ table, and it, well, it looked like Danny was actually trying to do it.
Jazz wanted to run in and help, but she… What could she do? She couldn’t bring her brother back to life. Couldn’t give him the power to pick up that pencil. Couldn’t even make herself go in, to say something to him, before he faded from sight again.
She swallowed and turned away from the door. Mr. Falluca had sent her on an errand, but now she couldn’t even remember what it was.
Nothing important.
.
“He answers questions, sometimes,” said Mr. Falluca, slowly rotating his beer bottle. The teachers rarely went out together after school, and when they did, it wasn’t for drinks, but recent events being what they were…
“He does?” asked Lancer, surprised.
“He does,” said Mr. Falluca. “They’re usually right, too. But that voice.” He tapped his bottle against the table. “Do you think he’ll start turning things in? What are we supposed to do about that?”
There were a few mumbles, but no real answers, as the other teachers either sent significant looks across the table or avoided them.
“Well,” said Lancer, knocking back his own beer. “He’s still in the gradebook.”
.
Lancer noticed the glow before anything else, and looked up sharply, half expecting to find a student playing with their cellphone camera. He didn’t. The light was coming from Phantom’s hand. Or, above Phantom’s hand, from a strange, blue-white ring floating above it.
The ring vanished, and Phantom slowly flexed his fingers, then smiled.
Oh, thought Lancer, and probably all the students in the class, what now?
Danny walked slowly, paces carefully measured. Chains trailed from his wrists and ankles, scraping the stone floor. Murmurs rose in a hundred languages as he climbed the stairs.
There was a cushion, red satin glistening beneath countless floating candles. There he knelt.
Clockwork loomed above, sword glinting in his hand, the blade flashing like a shooting star.
Danny laid his neck into the shallow recess on the altar, clasping trembling hands behind himself.
He exhaled, the blade swung in an arc of light, and fate descended swiftly.
I'm so used to forcing myself to go above a larger word count that trying to adhere to a small one was an interesting exercise! Anyway-
Something New
Amnesiac Danny
Phantom spent a lot of his time at school
However, he's dead. And that's kinda hard to miss.
He'd blend in more if he breathed, if his hand was solid enough to hold a pencil, if he could speak without raising the hairs on the back of everyone's necks, if he could compress himself into something....
...something...
Phantom felt a strange sensation at the tip of his finger, and lifted it to find a glowing white ring.
For Infinite Realms 2026! This is an initial fic for the remix event. AO3 here.
@infiniterealms
.
The regalia laid neatly on the table, each piece perfect, singly and together, a complete set. Clearly bespoke, made to be worn by a single person. One who was standing in front of them, seeing them for the first time.
“How long did it take?” asked Danny.
Clockwork hummed. “Objectively or subjectively?”
“Either.”
“Longer than you have lived.”
Danny shuddered… but raised a hand to touch the sleeve of an outer robe, heavy with embroidery, beadwork, and less visible, less mundane things.
Clockwork put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “This is how everything is meant to be.”
Written for @infiniterealms 2026, a Danny Phantom remix event!
ao3 | ffn
Valerie Gray has never felt better.
Her grades are shot, and her dad doesn't trust her. But exhilaration sings in her blood every time she summons her suit with a thought—the tingling under her skin bursting forth like blinding red lightning and rage—driving her forward into the hunt.
As she walks home, a ping nudges the back of her mind. Valerie looks up. A motorcycle careens across the sky, and of course Phantom chases after it.
The edges of her vision tint red as her anger flares. It seethes beneath her skin.
This was written for the Infinite Realms Remix event, more information on that here.
Thank you so much for running this @infiniterealms
I'm super excited for this, and hope you all have fun, I can't wait to see the other fics and to see what gets made from them <3
Word count: 100 (drabble)
Read on Ao3
~~~
"Mom, Dad, I have a proposition for you."
Jazz sighed, "oh geez he was serious…"
Danny ignored her, "As you know, dying has affected my transition plans. Puberty blockers no longer work, and I'm not going to be able to take standard hrt. And you two want to take a peek inside Phantom."
"Sweetie, that changed when we learned you were Phantom, we don't want-" Maddie began.
Jack interrupted, "What does that have to do with your transition?"
Danny smiled broadly. "I've decided that as long as y'all do top surgery while you're in there I'll let you vivisect me."
The remix event this year is designed to be super chill. Initial fics will be posted this weekend, and then writers can start anytime from this Monday until the end of February!
Remixes are encouraged to be drabbles as well, though you don’t have to stick to that if you really want to write more.
See the pinned post for information about what a remix is. I’ll be updating it with posting instructions on Monday.
Hey everyone, it’s time for some info about the upcoming remix event!
The 2026 event will focus on 100-word drabbles. What this means is that we will provide a collection of about a dozen Danny Phantom drabbles that can be used as a base for remixing. You all are encouraged to write a drabble remix of one or more of the originals, though you can make your responses as long (or short) as you’d like. Keeping your remix to drabble length is just a fun special challenge!
What is a Remix?
Have you ever read an amazing fic and wanted to have a go at it yourself, but felt too shy or like you’d be doing something wrong? Have you ever seen the Two Cakes comic and wistfully remembered a oneshot someone wrote that you wish you could continue? Do you want to show an author you love their work to the point of your own creation, but you don’t know how to make fanart?
This is your opportunity to give something new a try!
When you remix a fanfiction, you write a piece based directly off the fic. There are many ways to do this, and the ones accepted in this event are as follows.
POV Flip - Retelling the same events from a different character's point of view.
Role Reversal - Swapping the roles of two key characters. An example would be remixing a fic where Valerie hunts Danny, by turning Valerie into the hunted and Danny into the hunter in your version.
Sequel/Prequel - The events leading up to or following the fic. This would typically overlap with either the start or end of the original.
Genre Change - Changing the fic to a different genre. An example could be changing a modern day canon setting to medieval fantasy or to a space opera.
For Want of a Nail - One small detail at the beginning of fic is changed, causing things to happen differently.
One Crucial Detail - Focus on what you think is the most important detail of the fic for a character’s point of view, and let everything else fall away.
Guidelines for Remixing
There are no sign ups or restrictions on who can participate. All skill levels are welcome!
For this event, we will be doing gen fics only. This is to create a space where everyone can enjoy the pieces regardless of shipping preferences. Potential future iterations of this event may include a shipping option.
Other types of remixes are okay if the author of the oneshot specifies that in their fic description.
Three things cannot be changed - who the characters are, the basic setting, and the basic plot.
Please keep your pieces rated T and under, and use all appropriate trigger warnings.
No direct plagiarism - you need to write things in your own words for the fic to be included in the collection. It’s okay to quote some dialogue or a key sentence or two, especially if you’re writing overlapping scenes, but your fic should mostly be your own words.
Please do not use AI! This event is to celebrate the joy of the creative writing process. AI writing does not have a place here.
In the spirit of the event, crossovers should be avoided unless the author specifically states on their fic that they would be okay with them. In future years we may introduce a crossover category, but for now, avoiding crossovers makes your pieces more accessible to everyone in the fandom.
This event is designed for writers. However, if artists wish to participate, then they can also feel free to do so. Pictures will be reblogged to the @infiniterealms tumblr, and should follow the same posting requirements as written fics (listed in a future post).
There is no limit to how many pieces anyone writes.
