Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Nervous, baby bop?”

Danny sighs. “Ember, I get that you're older, but this is not my first show.”

She grins at him, flashing her aura in amusement. Danny restrains his core from answering in kind, instead shaking his head. “I'll be fine.”

Ember swings herself up to sit on one of the cable boxes. “You've never done a show like this before.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you for pulling me from the local scene into national spotlights.”

“You're welcome.”

Danny shakes his head, dodging out of Boxy's way. All the equipment has been set up, and moving the boxes to safe storage is his favorite part. Danny gives it five minutes before he claims Ember's seat.

This launch to stardom still confuses and eludes Danny. He was fine sticking with the Minneapolis scene, staying close to home. But when Ember McLain comes knocking asking for a collab, you don't say no. Danny's still not sure how she found him, or why she wanted to work with him. He can't complain too much - their first record netted him more money in the two months since its release than he sees in an average year. 

And now they're here at the Chicago United Center, watching the sound and tech crews put final touches on the set. They'd do a quick sound check and practice, relax for a few hours, and then come back for the show.

“Yo!”

They look over at Technus. Ember’s long-term sound and lightning tech waves from the floor. “Light run in ten!”

Danny lifts his hand in a thumbs-up. 

Technus is a genius at putting together light shows, no doubt aided by his technopathy. Not that he knows Danny knows. Ember and her crew are very dedicated to appearing human, and Danny is more than willing to let them believe they've hidden the fact that they're ghosts.

Danny's hiding too.

Danny and Ember head to their spots. As a singer-guitarist, she roams the stage frequently. Danny has a more stationary spot as DJ, and part of their show is an electronic jam session with Danny improvising backbeats to a few of Ember's older hits. They've both branched out of their comfort zones with this album though. She's got a few songs on keys, Danny sings in half their titles.

And then there's the theremin.

It's a weird, unusual instrument notoriously hard to play, but Danny's a natural at reading the invisible electric currents and knowing how to disrupt them. If he manipulates the music to almost sound like ghost speak, well, that's a coincidence. Ember hasn't asked him about it, but it might be because he's usually just creating their names - Ember McLain and DJ DP - and Ember is all for getting her name on the air in as many ways as possible.

Kitty, one of the crew, runs up to Ember first, then Danny behind his turntable. “Technus wants to run the opener and then ‘High King Down’.”

Danny nods. The opener is Ember's second hit ‘Hello Earth’, which Danny thinks is about her announcement of permanent residence in this realm. It's an improv piece for him, changing the background of her song letting Ember take center stage while still providing a unique new sound per show. It'll give Technus an opportunity to really test the lights, building a show based on Danny's creativity.

‘High King Down’ is more planned, and something about hearing the title on Kitty's lips makes Danny shudder. He shakes it off, flicking on his instruments. 

They make it through the first song no problem, Danny jamming while Ember sings into the microphone with her guitar hanging off her back. Technus reacts to Danny's scratches a millisecond later, and Danny eases into the mini rehearsal.

In six hours, these stands will be full of fans. The lights will be just as bright and hot, the music as loud, but there will be tens of thousands of eyes on him and Ember compared to the couple hundred he's used to.

He closes his eyes as he tries to imagine it, people singing. Ember starts the opening chord of ‘High King Down’ and he moves to the theremin, hands poised. He plays the instrument by feel, not sight, the electric current on his skin guiding him.

“The king is dead,” Ember sings the chorus, “Long live the dead.”

In Danny's mind, the crowd is singing too. It's only the fumble of Ember's chord and a shout from Ember's boyfriend/bodyguard Skulker that has Danny snapping open his eyes.

There are people streaming down two of the aisles. They're chanting, “The king is dead, long live the king.”

Danny stands there frozen as he locks eyes with the first marcher - he’s dyed his hair bleach blonde. He’s wearing green face paint as blush. 

In his hand is what might have been a Fenton Finder, only the diodes have been replaced with vials of ectoplasm and there are runes etched on every surface. 

“Long live the king!” the marchers say, the one in front locking eyes with Danny.

“Shit,” he whispers, stomach sinking to his toes.

Out of nowhere, Skulker tackles him. Ember’s already offstage, but Danny’s been standing there like a frozen deer watching the cult creep closer.

“When I say get off the stage,” Skulker growls, “I mean it.” He lurches to his feet, pulling Danny with him. 

He can’t see anyone else, but they’re ghosts with the power to hide. Danny is the lone ‘human’. He should be the safest from cultists guided by magic and ectoplasm. 

And yet, there’s one of them on the wings of the stage heading toward Danny. The cultist jerks, gives a full body shudder, then continues forward as Danny vaguely sees Kitty extract herself from his body. They’ve got protection from overshadowing.

This is a very, very well-informed cult.

Danny doesn’t realize how close he and Skulker are to the edge of the stage, or just how low it is, until a cultist catches Danny’s leg. He stumbles, and the cultist circles both of Danny’s ankles in an open hug. Magic runs through his body, seizing his muscles and holding him in place. He vaguely hears Skulker curse, feels the coolness of the bodyguard trying to make his legs intangible.

But the cultist has runes etched into his skin, turning himself into a summoning circle, and he’s trapped Danny in it. As a ghost, Skulker cannot break Danny out.

“Long live the Ghost King,” the modified Fenton Finder says, and Danny wonders how they know. No one knows. 

No one except Vlad and Clockwork.

“Ghost King!” the cultist trapping him shouts. Danny recognizes the Grecian nose of the man leading the group down the aisles. “Ghost King, I command you, give me your immortal blessing.”

The magic that courses through Danny’s body makes him arch his back like he had in the portal. Electricity runs through his body, and he can’t help the scream that rips through him. He can feel his transformation flow over him, hair switching from black to white, blood turning green to change the flush under his skin.

“Ancients,” Skulker curses.

“You’re dead?!” Ember shouts from somewhere above him.

Danny can’t give them any attention; his mind is too focused on the summoning circle around his feet. Marks of the dead on living flesh, a circle of blood, bone, and will. It’s good. It’s binding. He has to give his immortal blessing. 

But he can’t. He can’t let this cult know what they’ve created. They can’t know they’ve effectively trapped the King of the Infinite Realms. It’ll go straight to their heads, and he’s very confident now that they have a backer in Vlad Masters. 

Resisting the command is painful, growing each second he fails to give in. Danny bites through his lower lip; he can feel the ecto drip down his chin. The core in his chest creaks like a groaning glacier, stressed.

He cuts his gaze to Skulker, watches him put all the pieces together. That Danny is a ghost. That Danny is the High King. That these cultists have trapped him. That he’s minutes from giving in. 

Skulker sheds his human guise, the bulletproof vest fading into an armored body. His bald head bursts into green flames as his aura flares.  His arm transforms into a canon.

“Unhand him!” Skulker takes a shot at the cultist keeping Danny trapped. A different cultist launches herself at the canon and the shot goes wide. In the sky, Ember yelps, and Danny can see her and Kitty, visible again, dive out of the way. The hanging speakers glow an angry green.

“I command you, Phantom!” the cultist shrieks. “Bless me like Plasmius!”

Danny has no choice but to obey.

If this guy wants to die and have that death polluted with ectoplasm, well, Danny will do his best to make him regret it. He crouches, reaches his hand inside the guy’s skull. This is going to be messy. This is going to be violent. The cultist deserves it, as each second of delay is agony, but no one should ask to be a halfa, no one should command him-

“Bless me!”

He flexes his claws, but before he can dig them into the guy's brain, the world goes dark.

Chapter Text

Danny blinks. He never thought space could feel dead, but there’s no other description for where he is. There’s no breeze, no sense of gravity, no light, no sound, no sensation of his own body - ghost or human. Just slow thoughts. 

All of a sudden, a ghost appears before him. 

Blue skin, purple cloak, the pendulum of a grandfather clock hangs from his clavicles into a hollow chest closed with a glass door. It’s still, just like the clock on his gray staff. 

Danny stares, but Clockwork doesn’t shift forms, old or younger. 

It strikes him that this place is so dead, time doesn’t exist. Or maybe not dead. Just, removed. He can’t feel the Realms at all.

“I warned you,” Clockwork says. “You must accept the crown and all it entails.”

“I did.” Danny summons the Crown. It’s hard, it doesn’t want to come to this place outside the Realms, outside of Time. But it comes when he calls, the cold ring of ice settling on his brow. 

“And all it entails,” Clockwork repeats. “You cannot wear the crown and not rule.”

“I’m not fully dead yet.”

“And yet, that just happened.”

Danny crosses his arms. He is High King of the Infinite Realms. The only king of the Infinite Realms. He can force Clockwork to do anything. 

But he doesn’t want to. No one should have that amount of control over anyone. 

No one should have that summoning circle. 

He gets Clockwork’s point. Only two people know he’s King, and yet he’s already fending off attacks. Keeping it a secret has not protected him. Vlad knows he rules and will continue to try to steal the crown. 

“Accept your rule if you don’t want things like this to happen in the future.”

The world goes dark before Danny can curse him out.

Chapter Text

“Nervous, baby bop?”

Danny sighs. “Ember, I get that you're older, but this is not my first show.”

She grins at him, flashing her aura in amusement. Danny restrains his core from answering in kind, instead shaking his head. “I'll be fine.”

Ember swings herself up to sit on one of the cable boxes. “You've never done a show like this before.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but pauses when the memories flow in. He won’t do a show like this, not if something doesn’t change. 

Danny sweeps his gaze around the United Center. Dark plastic seats on an angle. Cement stairs so steep he’s worried about people falling in the dark. All the doors are closed. 

“Baby bop?” Ember is looking at him curiously, and Danny quickly smiles to reassure her. 

“Yes, yes. Thank you for pulling me from the local scene into national spotlights.”

“You're welcome.”

He continues scanning the auditorium. Every single person he can see is a ghost. Ember and Skulker and Kitty. There’s Johnny who drives the rig, chilling in a seat. Boxy wheeling things out of the way of Technus’s final checks. 

Clockwork wants him to do something different, but he’s not sure what. He’s not sure about Clockwork period - he’s only met the ghost three times - but he’s not malicious. He thinks. Danny does believe the other ghost wants what’s best for the Realms, but what that ‘best’ is something Clockwork rarely shares, and even then, it’s in fragmented images. He’d never call the older ghost an advisor, not until there’s more trust between them. 

In fact, the ghost Danny trusts most is Ember.

He takes a risk, seeps a bit of power into his voice. “Why did you ask to collaborate with me? I didn’t even have an agent.”

“Heard you at a club,” she says, flashing fang. Her blue ponytail moves in an air conditioning waft that Danny knows isn’t real. “Something about your sound, it called to me. Wanted to snag you up before anyone else. Good thing too, right? We’re owning the radio right now.”

“I’m a DJ, I mix sounds.”

“In a way no one has heard before.”

Danny brings a hand over his chest, tapping a quick arpeggio over his heart and core. Had she really liked his beats at the club, or had she been drawn to the faint ghost core under his ribs? Does she subconsciously know already?

“Ember-”

“Yo!”

Technus waves from the floor, headphones and large sunglasses making him look like some cyperpunk protagonist.  “Light run in ten!”

“Got it!” Ember shouts back. 

Technus programmed the shows in their local studio, but this place is wider and most likely will throw off his angles. Danny’s sure he can adopt things quickly. Actually, he’s not sure Technus programs things at all, just phases his fingers into the equipment to create art on the fly with lights like Danny mixes songs. 

Ember’s already swinging her electric guitar over her head, plugging in the jack. He could tell her. He could walk right up to her. Say, I died too. 

But then Kitty’s at his side, twisting a dreadlock around her finger. “What’cha zoning out for?”

“Sorry.”

“Technus wants to run the opener and then ‘High King Down’. Your stuff should be powered.”

Stiffly nodding, Danny walks across the stage. When he asked Ember about the context for High King Down, she had shrugged and said it was based on a fantasy book she’d read as a kid and the relief of knowing someone evil is gone. But she only talked about that ‘book’ with the crew, not him, and despite her pushing Danny to work on composition, it was the one song on their album she’d written completely without him.

Not for the first time does he wonder what the transfer of power was like for other ghosts. 

To him, it’d been quick and violent and confusing. 

It’s a tie what caused him more trauma, dealing with puberty or dealing with his death. He can’t separate them - they were so linked with his voice cracking as he learned how to harness his death scream. His suddenly clumsy, too-big feet merging with the trouble to keep them solid. He learned his powers in secret even as his (very small) growth spurt was on display for the whole school, play-fighting in the woods or sparring with the few ghosts who came through his parents' portal willing to teach him. So many of them took a look around Amity Park, went I don’t want to live here either, and found ways to integrate into human society. He had no one to talk to about his death, no one who knew it, and got all the bullying possible in high school.

But fighting Pariah Dark. Being manipulated to fight Pariah Dark. It'd been violent and confusing and quick in how sudden it’d been. Clockwork stepped in then too, introducing himself as a ghost who saw all of time and had determined that someone like him would be a good ruler of the Realms. That a halfa could serve as the perfect balance between life and death. 

But the right halfa - because someone’s vie for the throne was not going well. Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius, was too self-centered a creature.

Clockwork kidnapped Danny from Jazz’s high school graduation and placed him in the Zone just in time to see Vlad release the Sleeping King from his sleep, confident he could win the Crown.

“Look,” Clockwork turned the glass of his staff clock opaque, displaying a future of Pariah Dark stepping out of the portal into FentonWorks, Danny’s home, then city, falling to a cranky ghost king ready to rule all of the Realms, staring with the one populated by such bothersome humans. “Plasmius will not win, and this will happen. But you can. You can win, and stop this.”

How could he not fight, being shown that? How could he not try to protect his home, even if his experience with fights was lacking?

Danny’s still not sure how he won.

He remembers Plasmius trying to win and failing, Pariah throwing him to the ground and stepping on Vlad’s throat until he turns human and passes out. Remembers getting in the way, refusing to let Pairah Dark step through the portal Danny's parents had invented. Remembers Pariah's glowing eyes looking down at him, Crown flaring, and the sheer size of the aura pressing down on Danny’s sixteen-year-old shoulders.

The fight is a blur, and when he tries to remember details, he hits a blank in his brain like the one time Dash gave him a concussion. He’d taken a lot of punches and ectorays. He’d hit rock and dodged legs. He’d exhausted his powers, dissolved a leg to have the ectoplasm for a sonic scream. He thinks the only reason he survived the depletion of his core was Clockwork placing the Crown on his head as Pairah stumbled back into a sarcophagus that snapped shut behind him, the royal power boost keeping Danny alive. 

Clockwork had never stepped in to help, and Vlad had woken just in time to see Clockwork place the Ring of Rage on Danny's hand.

Yes, that transition had been quick and violent and confusing, Danny fighting with little information but a lot of gumption. 

None of that is in ‘High King Down’. 

Danny listens for the hundredth time to Ember singing about the fall of a far-off king, hands moving in the air automatically to play the theremin. His eyes are on the doors he’s expecting the cultist to walk through. 

“The king is dead,” Ember sings the chorus, “Long live the dead.”

For the first time, Danny makes the theremin scream, replicating ghost speak as much as he can, and prays that the ghosts around him don’t toss it out as coincidence. Danger!

Ember shoots him a glare, even as the spotlight on him flickers green. Then all eyes are on the people streaming down the aisles of the United Center, quickly heading toward the stage. “The king is dead, long live the king.”

Not Ember’s chorus at all, like he had thought the first time. 

This time, Danny moves. 

Skulker is already pulling Ember off the stage and into the wings, and how silly is that? There’s maybe five humans on staff, Danny included, but the ghosts are so dedicated to keeping the image of humanity that they hide before turning invisible. Do they miss being human that much? Are they that determined to keep Danny in the dark? 

Still, Danny’s been playing this charade for years too. He stares at his feet as he runs to not see Ember and the others drop their human image. 

The cultists are moving faster this time, chasing Danny. “Long live the king!”

On the wings of the stage, Danny dodges tied ropes and sandbags. Spaces that seemed easy to move around an hour ago are now only manageable because he selectively phases through a piece of rigging here and there. 

“What do they want?” he hears Kitty whisper. She tried to overshadow one to protect Danny before, but it hadn’t worked. They’re charmed with something, and if they have been sponsored by Vlad, it’ll block him too. 

“Don’t look at me,” Johnny says back.

Their voices are above him. They’re staying, curious, and not in much danger. Danny had gotten caught initially because he’d been slow. With the Fenton Finder, the cult will follow him. He needs to destroy it and not get caught by a circle of arms in the process. Then, after the immediate threat has been taken care of, he can track down Vlad and pound some sense into him. If Plasmius couldn’t beat Pariah still groggy from sleep, he wasn’t going to beat Danny either.

In hindsight, that explains the summoning circle that forces him to do another’s will. Vlad doesn’t have to beat him. Just trap him.

“Shit,” Danny says.

“Long live the king,” comes the sound of twenty people chanting. 

“Think they’re just really enthusiastic fans?” Ember’s voice comes from above, whispering with Kitty and Johnny. 

“They have scratched runes in their skin, Ember,” Kitty hisses. 

Danny risks a peek up. Skulker’s missing, which is rare. He is Ember’s bodyguard-boyfriend. But he takes his job seriously. He doesn’t just protect Ember, though she’s the priority. He protects anyone on the crew who needs it. He got in the way of paparazzi for Danny just two days ago.

And he’d come back for Danny the first go round. 

“There you are.” Skulker’s hand wraps around Danny’s forearm. “The others are already outside. The police are on their way. We gotta get you out of here.”

“It won’t work.” Danny swallows, watching the cultists climb the stage. The one up front with the Fenton Finder locks eyes with Danny. “They can track me.”

“Track you? Is your head full of bees? Why would such weirdos want to track you…”

Skulker’s voice dies as Danny triggers his transformation. 

“Long live the king!” the cultists chant.

“Ancients,” Skulker curses.

What did Clockwork want him to do? Accept not just the Crown, but everything that it entailed. Don’t just wear it, but step into the role. 

What did kings do?

Command. 

Danny could force Skulker to do what he wanted, like he’d forced Ember to answer his question earlier. But Ember had still had some element of choice, and Danny wouldn’t take that from Skulker. Besides, the ghost had helped him of his own free will before.

He hopes Clockwork doesn’t send him over and over into this situation until he forces his will on someone completely. Hopes that what Clockwork means is lead.

Danny summons the Crown, the ring of ice around his head weighing down his now floating hair. In the Realms, compared to that odd space outside time, he can feel the power of it act up, sending green sparks skating along the ice. Sparks for the electricity that killed him, cold for the ice core in his chest linked to the chilling expanse of his space obsession. 

“You need to destroy the device in the lead cultist’s hand. Whatever you do, don’t let them get their hands around you.”

“Why?”

But Danny is already gone.   

He flies over the cultists to the rear of them. Danny wants to make this time as different as possible, and this puts him far from the main cultist holding the Fenton Finder that trapped him before.

Danny ices the floor, and the steepness of the United Center works against the cultists. The few at the back slip and fall, bowling over the people before them. Danny snickers.

“A-ha!” 

Danny looks up to see Skulker, in ghost form, cheering over a smoking Fenton Finder. Danny grins. That’s step one of dismantling the cult taken care of.

In their excitement, they don’t notice the cultist creeping up behind Skulker until Ember shouts a warning. She materializes in midair, blue hair flaming, but before she can strum her guitar, the woman hugs Skulker’s arm. 

The effect is immediate. 

Skulker goes still, not even his green mohawk flickers. 

“Skulker?” Ember calls out.

Danny remembers some control in the summoning circle, but he had fought for it and eventually lost. Danny is the King of Ghosts - he’s got more power than Skulker, who looks like he can’t twitch without permission. 

The cultist who has trapped him looks uncertain about what to do. They’re not here for Skulker’s blessing, they want Danny’s. They probably don’t have any idea who Skulker is; Ember’s whole crew has passed for human for years. 

“Skulker?” Ember is panicking now, gripping the neck of her guitar. 

“Let him go!” Danny shouts, flying back toward the stage. He ices the ground under the woman’s feet and hits her with an ectoray. They don’t do much damage to humans, but it’s enough to knock her off balance. As she falls on the ghost ice, she loses her grip on Skulker. Free to move, Skulker rockets up to join Ember in the air over the stage. 

Ember stares at Danny in disbelief, as well as a bit of hurt. They’ve been music partners for a year. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re dead?”

“Is this really the time?” Danny asks, floating an inch above the stage. The cultist woman is dazed, but Danny can see the runes scratched into her skin, scab lines and red marks forming the summoning circle. Some of those might scar. 

He still doesn’t understand. What has Vlad told them that they think being a halfa is a blessing? 

“Ghost king!” 

Danny dodges out of the way of a cultist as Ember plays a G chord. It knocks a handful of cultists to their feet, and Danny floats further up. 

“Look,” Danny tells his maybe-friends. “We can talk about all this later. It’s not like you told me you were dead either-” Though Danny had pegged her as such immediately. It was why he had said yes to their partnership. 

Danny shudders as the lead cultist, standing on the back of a falling comrade, jumps and wraps his arms around Danny’s tail. 

They crash to the ground. Danny tries to squirm out of the cultist’s grip, but finds he can’t move much. Going intangible is impossible, and when Skulker shoots the guy’s shoulder, he ignores the burn and clings on harder. 

“Ghost king!” the cultist screams. “Ghost king, I command you, give me the immortal blessing you bestowed Vlad Masters!”

“Vlad’s been dead longer than me,” Danny tries to move his arms to pry the cultist off, but it’s useless. The magic of the circle runs through his ectoplasm, sparking his half-real organs and making him pant. It hurts, it hurts. 

And having people ask Danny to kill them can’t have been Vlad’s plan, could it? What is the point of that? Danny’s not even sure he has that power. He’d have to kill them with ectoplasm, and he’s not sure ripping the cult leader’s brain to shreds with his claws and flooding his skull with Danny’s dissolved arm would do the trick.

“Bless me!” the cult leader screams as another one flings themselves over Danny. He’s prone on his side on the stage, feet from his turntable, and it’s easy for the cultist Ember has knocked down to crawl toward him. They circle his arms, his torso, his neck. Ember tries to hypnotize them, playing chords of ‘Remember’,  but the cultists chant louder to overwhelm her music. Skulker’s potshots have no effect. Kitty tries to help too, shrieking when she realizes she can’t possess any of them. Johnny pulls her back to his side. 

“Long live the ghost king! Bless me! Make me immortal!”

With every new set of hands circling him, the pain of the summoning circle grows. Danny grits his teeth as his back arches in pain, his scream muted by how tightly his jaw is clenched. He needs to obey, has to obey, but he’s not sure who to ‘bless’ first. They’re so loud, so insistent. 

“Danny!” Ember calls, but he can’t hear her. There’s just the powerful buzz of magic under his skin, the growing weight of cultists. He thinks Skulker might be trying to physically pull them off. The equipment above them groans, waiting to fall.

Someone sits on Danny’s back and wraps their hands around his neck, elbow pit catching Danny’s Adam’s apple. The cultist pulls back and Danny whines. The runes etched on the man’s skin press against Danny’s throat and Danny screams for real. One of the lighting trusses falls; someone catches it with telekinesis before it crashes to the stage, the green glow reflecting off nearby cultists in a way that makes them even more eerily like Phantom.

The cultist yanks harder and Danny bends back further, releasing the idea of a spine from his mind. He’s just ectoplasm, moldable ectoplasm. 

“I caught you first, ghost king,” the lead cultist hisses in Danny’s ear. “Give me my blessing before you grant it to anyone else. I command you.”  He squeezes Danny’s neck. 

It’s not like Danny needs to breathe. He’s dead. But the squeeze presses the runes against his skin tighter, and Danny finds himself giving up the fight for control. This cultist wants to die? Danny will gladly do it. 

He’s already given up on bones - it’s simple to stretch his arm out long. He can expand his hand too, fingers long and clawed. And why stop at five? Let’s make his hand have seven fingers, one for each cultist clinging to him. Danny slips into their heads and finds the center of their brains.

There’s some sort of commotion above him, but Danny is too focused on reaching into the cultists, following their commands and hoping it makes the pain of the summoning circle stop. He wants to tell them dying is not as magical as they think - dying sucks, and becoming a halfa separates you from the life you planned to live. 

“Bless me!” the overlapping voices chorus, more hands reaching for him as more cultists climb on stage, ducking under Skulker’s arms. 

Danny twists his fingers like screwdrivers, and the world goes black. 

Chapter Text

Danny blinks. He knows where he is now, and Clockwork doesn’t make him wait. He’s already there, in his child form this time, cheeks round. Danny wants to pinch them, and not because he thinks Clockwork looks adorable. 

“Look,” Danny says. “Just send me back further, and I can stop Vlad from forming this cult to begin with. Knowledge of those summoning circles should never see the light of day.”

“Would you rather your parents invent it?”

Danny flinches, and that’s answer enough for Clockwork. The smile that might look smug on his thirty-some form looks sinister on his seven-year-old one. As if he’s a cherubic child of the corn.

It’s a reminder that while Danny might be all-powerful, Clockwork is all-knowing. And he doesn’t share that knowledge. 

Danny doubts his parents would craft such a summoning circle, they’re engineers, but there’s always that risk. Always had been that risk, but now that Clockwork’s spoke it to life, the odds feel stronger. 

Danny focuses on the now, crossing his arms over the stretched fabric of his hazmat suit. “Look, I get that you want me to rule, but this is not the way to do it.”

“It’s in the universe’s best interest that you embrace your reign. You are a ghost, Danny. You have surrounded yourself with your people, and yet, you still refuse to rule.”

“I just told Sulker how to fight.”

“I don’t care about this fight.”

“Liar.” Danny puts power into his voice and Clockwork flinches, bowing his head. 

Clockwork does care about this fight. He wants it to go differently, but he still wants it to happen. He does not want to stop it. Just like he does not want to stop Danny from defeating Pariah. From dying. 

Danny rubs his neck. Here, outside of time and space, the ache doesn’t touch him, but Danny can feel the phantom pain of the runes pressing into his skin. Of the scratched-up arms and multiple summoning circles trapping him, magic running through his ectoplasm like the current that killed him. 

Clockwork is waiting for Danny to make a different choice, but what, Danny’s not sure. Danny’s not sure if he cares to do another round either. 

Nine years ago, Clockwork saw a world he did not like and moved the pieces around to set up the game the way he wanted. He wanted Danny to be king. Wanted Danny to have the power to lead and control all ghosts. 

He hated the manipulation, but at the end of the day, if Clockwork didn’t want Danny to use the Crown, he shouldn’t have given it to him. 

“What future are you aiming for?” Danny asks, putting the command Clockwork wants him to use in his voice. 

Clockwork stiffens. Danny presses harder. “You cannot wear the crown and not rule,” Danny quotes back to the older ghost. “And I refuse to be a king who lets his subjects walk over him. If I’m ruling, I’m ruling. My decisions, not yours. Next time I feel you pulling me here, I’m resisting, and however things go down will be permanent. Now tell me, what future are you aiming for?”

Clockwork spreads his hands in supplication. “Kings rule, but they do not do so alone. There is strength in allies, is there not?”

Danny thinks to Skulker and Kitty doing what they can the first go round, with Ember trying to help the second time. Technus’s aura around the tech, catching and aiming the heavy lights. The hurt in Ember’s eyes as she realizes the secret Danny’s kept, but also the determination in Skulker’s when he realizes Danny is the Ghost King. Skulker never protects him because of an order; he wants to.

Skulker likes Danny - they’re friends, despite the secrets they’re both keeping. Except Danny has always known he’s hanging with ghosts. Ember and her crew have never seen him as anything other than human - weak, fragile, mortal. 

And still, they welcomed him into the crew. Protected him. Ember has never tried to hypnotize him.

Not allies, Danny thinks. None of them are allies - they’re friends and professionals he respects. People he’s joked with, cried with, created with. How many of the songs in this album have he and Ember written together? Didn’t he encourage her to learn and try piano, just as she encouraged him to write lyrics and sing?

Sam and Tucker had been great in high school, but the secret of his death had strained things at the end. They faded after graduation, them becoming full-time students while Danny tried to get a degree while mixing songs and stirring drinks. It’d been two years since he’d heard from either of them. 

But he’d play tossed crumpled sheets of lyrics into trash cans like they were hoops with Ember. Joined Skulker and Johnny at the bar for drinks. Helped Kitty pick outfits and babbled about new NASA tech to Technus. Boxy was a little wary about having Danny help move all the equipment, but welcomed someone to eat lunch with. 

How many times had Ember called him ‘baby bop’ and pushed him to expand his musical repertoire? Learn an instrument, learn some music theory, write a song - you’ve gotta be a better lyricist than the Eurythmics. 

How many times had he laughed with them? Learned with them? Shared a meal?

Wished they could all come clean?

“They’re not allies,” Danny tells Clockwork, and pushes himself back into the timestream.

He wouldn’t even give Clockwork that title.

Chapter Text

“Nervous, baby bop?”

Danny sighs. “Ember, I get that-”

He cuts himself off, the memories hitting sooner this turn. It’s the same start, the same conversation. Except, he thinks, he knows what Clockwork wants him to do. Forewarning of the fight hadn’t saved him - but he’d lasted longer because he hadn’t fought the cultists alone. 

Kings had crowns and armies, but the most famous king of all? Had led a round table of knights, trusted friends. 

Danny presses his hands together in front of his chest, turning to look at Ember. Sensing his mood, she drops her smile, flashing her aura in amusement. 

“You’ll be fine, Danny. I get that this is bigger than you’re used to, but once the show starts, it’ll be just like practice.”

“It’s not that.”

He scans the auditorium. Johnny is chilling in a seat in the stands. Boxy wheeling things out of the way. Kitty is in the wings, tutting over the rack of clothes containing their concert outfits. Skulker isn’t visible, but if Danny stretches his senses, he can feel the ghost doing an invisible sweep of the rafters as Technus, also invisible, does final checks of the tresses holding his lights, speakers, and winches. 

He turns back to Ember, who places a hand on his shoulder. “Baby bop?”

“Tell me again why you asked me to collaborate with you on an album?”

“Walked into a club and heard you DJ’ing. Knew I wanted it to spice up my next album. You have such a way of putting together sounds…”

She trails off as Danny lifts her hand to his neck, pressing her fingers in. They’ve touched before, hands brushing and back slaps and hugs, but never this intimate. Her skin is cooler than a human’s should be, just like Danny’s, even if he’s warmer. 

“I’m a DJ, Ember. I just mix sounds. But there’s a lot more that I mix.”

He presses her fingers in further, making sure she gets a good feel for his pulse, and then stops his heart.

“Danny!” She panics, her other hand reaching out to grab his side. “Skul-”

The call for aid dies on her lips as Danny lets his transformation wash over him. He’s vaguely aware of the other ghosts keying in on the action, but keeps his eyes on Ember. His fellow musician, whom he might actually consider to be his best friend. 

Her hand presses deep into his neck, but it doesn’t matter. Danny’s skin can dip further without pain. Her eyes dart to his hazmat suit, to his suddenly younger face, and wispy white hair. To the crown materializing there, the thick band of ice decorated with sparks leaving no question about his rank. 

“You’re-”

“DJ DP, Danny Phantom. The Yetis of the Far Frozen call me a bodybound ghost, or more specifically, a halfa. It makes my core hard to hear when I'm human, so don't feel bad about not realizing I'm dead. I’m also the current High King of the Infinite Realms, and I think that’s what made you want to work with me.”

Ember drops her human guise, blue hair turning to blue flame and her skin taking on cooler tones, but her tattoos and clothing stay the same. 

“So we’re both dead, huh.”

“The whole crew is dead. Except for the three locals from the United Center and our agent. You still want to do this tour? Knowing you might have only wanted to work together because of my rank?”

“I didn’t know that, dipstick. That you were king, I mean. I truly hit you up because of your talent. We’ve owned the radio for two months! You’re an amazing DJ.” Her aura flashes amusement and pride. 

Danny lets his own, for the first time, mirror it.

“What the hell?” Skulker asks, popping back into the visual spectrum. He’s in his ghost form, armored skin on display. “You’ve been dead this whole time?”

“Dead and alive,” Danny says. “I’m special like that.”

Kitty presses close, Johnny and Technus behind her. Johnny stares at Danny’s cornet, but before his friends can cut in with questions, Danny grabs Ember’s hands.

“We’ve been great music partners. And now I want to partner with you on something else.”

Skulker growls. “Ember’s my girlfriend-”

“I’ve had the Crown for nine years, but haven’t done anything with it. I was too young, and as someone has been trying to obnoxiously say, I couldn’t rule alone.”

“Danny…” Skulker’s guns whine as they power up. 

“I need a court. A council. Whatever you want to call it. Ghosts to help me make decisions, and fight when needed, who won’t begrudge me trying to still live a human life. That’s you, Ember. You, and this crew.” He slowly catches the gaze of every ghost he’s met this year. “You’re all my friends. I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d like at my round table.”

“You're the Ghost King?!” Kitty screeches. 

Ember’s squeeze of his hands brings his attention to her again. “I have questions, but I think the first is, why tell us now?”

“Because I realized how much I trust you, trust you all, and how much you care for little ole human me.”

Skulker snorts, but he looks away shyly.

“But also, because I've been stuck in a timeloop thanks to Clockwork, and while this will be the last round, I want it to happen differently, and I need your help fighting.”

That catches everyone’s attention. Boxy stutters Clockwork’s name. Johnny and Kitty hold hands. Skulker puffs up, and Technus makes the lights above them sway.

It's Ember who answers, his best friend and bandmate, the woman who makes him feel normal and creative and not alone. “We're here for you, baby bop. Who are we fighting?”

“Cultists,” he answers quickly. “They know I'm the King. They'll burst in via the stadium seats in five minutes. They're covered in runes. It makes them impossible to overshadow, and if they trap you in a circle - arms around your leg, for example - they can command you. Even I can't resist for long. Few minutes, top.”

“What do they want?” Skulker asks.

“There's another bodybound ghost, also a halfa. He's convinced them the status is a form of immortal blessing I can bestow.”

“Is it?” Ember asks.

Danny purses his lips. “You are all ghosts who miss humanity so much you're mimicking it, living as a human solo artist and support crew. Living is... there's nothing like it. And being bodybound…”

He looks at his hands and Ember's, still twined. “I'm living, but I've lost a lot of my life because I'm dead too. I can keep going, breathing air and scarfing Cheetos, but I can't hold relationships. Not outside of those with the dead. I, I can't be dead right. I can't be alive right.”

The heartbreak of losing Sam and Tucker is more painful than it's been in years. His calls with Jazz are stilted, with his parents non-existent. 

“No, I don't think it's a blessing.”

The stage is quiet, and Ember pulls him into a hug. They touch, but not like this. She's his boss, technically. And technically, he's her king. Still he allows it for exactly one second.

Skulker doesn't even look miffed when Danny pulls away. Instead, he's tapping his foot, staring at the door the cultists will stream through.

“What's the goal? Stop the cultists from trapping you?”

“Stop them from trapping me, destroy their way of tracking me, and make sure Plasmius, the ghost who set them up, doesn't realize the summoning circle works.”

Johnny whistles. “Lots to do there.”

“We can do it,” Skulker says, still eyeing the doors. The bodyguard is thinking, coming up with a plan. “Danny, your Majesty, um -”

Danny laughs. “Phantom in this form. But please, as my court and advisors, no formalities. I'm the same dude you've hung out with all year. You're way better at fighting than me, Skulker. I'll follow your lead.”

“You did defeat Pariah Dark, but okay. Thirty-second plan. Phantom, bait on the stage. Boxy, use the storage boxes to bowl down the cultists. Johnny, use Shadow to trip them. Technus, use the cables to tie them up and hang them.”

“No deaths,” Danny cuts in.

Skulker huffs. “Dangle them from the rafters. Ember, stand by to play. I'll guard Phantom.”

“Me?” Kitty asks. 

“Backup,” Danny decides. “Last time someone wrapped arms around Skulker, he couldn't twitch. Keep an eye out for anyone who gets trapped and free them. Chuck things, tell Boxy where to toss stuff. Remember, overshadowing doesn't work.”

“Did I only try the traditional way?” Kitty asks, pulling her scarf free.

“Yeah,” Danny admits. Consequences of not telling the band he was a ghost are they don't know his power set, and he doesn't know theirs. But he trusts Kitty. 

Vaguly, Danny hears chanting. He'd missed it before as they rehearsed ‘High King Down’ but now it's obvious. Danny tenses. They all rise, hovering inches off the floor for maneuverability.

The cultists burst in, with bleached hair and green blush. A costume, Danny belatedly realizes, meant to mimic his ghost form.

“The king is dead! Long live the king!”

The lead cultist locks eyes with Danny, stretching out a beseeching hand. “Bless me!”

Skulker slides in front of Danny, arm raised and gun charged. Danny wants to protest, he can fight, but it quickly becomes obvious he doesn't need to. Skulker hits the guy's shoulder, and he goes down. Boxy wields small boxes, makeup kits and snack boxes, to smack people in the head. When they hit the ground, the shadow stretching from Johnny’s feet pulls them into the space between aisles and toward the stage. From there, the power lines and connector cables from the lights snake around the cultists to trap their arms. Above Danny, Ember laughs. Kitty, beside her, watches the chaos.

They work together so well. They work together for Danny. 

Rule, Clockwork had told him. This isn't that. It's asking for help and getting it. It's trusting his court and letting them do what they do best.

Danny watches as Skulker shoots the Fenton Finder, pieces scattering. As Johnny gets trapped in a cultist’s embrace, only for Kitty to circle her scarf around the woman's neck and then force the cultist to open her arms.

“Bless me! Bless me!” 

Hanging above Danny in lieu of spotlights are cultists. They stare at him, hungry, and it makes him nervous. He remembers their arms around him. How they piled on him, how his neck had been wrenched back, runes digging into his throat. The pain of the circle, of straining against their commands feeling like the accident that killed him.

“Danny?” Skulker asks as Technus and Johnny round up the last cultists.

“They caused me a lot of pain, the last few cycles.” He flexes his hand, transforming it into the elongated seven-fingered claw he had used last cycle to scramble brains. He could kill them. It'd be so easy. He didn't even have to ‘bless’ them. 

But what was the point? Death was inescapable. And deceased life never quite fit. You couldn't ever just be content, always chasing your focus.

Maybe ghosthood is a curse they deserve, but Danny knows just how precious walking among the living is and can't do it. Not like this.

His claw retreats. 

“They won't cause you any more pain, baby bop,” Ember declares. She's five feet above them, staring at the cultists still reaching for Danny. Pleading for him.

Skulker places a hand on Danny's shoulder. “I am your unofficial bodyguard -”

“Pretty sure you're an official knight or lord or something now.”

“You're my king, my friend, and my charge. You'll never face threats alone.”

“Ditto,” Kitty says, landing next to Danny. Johnny’s on her other side. Boxy is in the seats, gathering his weapons, cooing proudly over their corners. 

“Get ready to rock,” Ember says before strumming her guitar.

Sound blasts through the stadium from her guitar as Technus cranks up the lights in the cultists’ faces. They scream in mild pain and then…nothing.

They're hypnotized. Danny's seen it before, in recordings of Ember’s shows. The glassy eyes that concert goers get before they frantically scream her name and buy out the merch table. She's not directing them to do anything yet, and they hang limp in the air. Some look at Ember, many more look at Danny, even if the frantic air has been swapped for slow blinks.

“I can make them do whatever, baby bop. What do you want?”

He floats up to join her. He wants the cult disbanded, evidence wiped. It can't be, Vlad is somewhere lurking, but one loose end is better than twenty. “Can you erase their memories?”

“No, but they won't remember anything while under my orders.”

“Tell them…to go home. Wash the ink off, make sure the runes cut into their skin don't scar, to never contact someone named Vlad Masters or Vlad Plasmius again. But first…”

He doesn't want to kill the cultists, but that doesn't mean he can't scramble their brains. 

The tour stops had been announced four months ago. That should be enough.

Danny brings his hand up, elongating his index finger. It stretches like an ink black needle.

Danny is the King of the Infinite Realms. The Ghost King. The Living Death, bearer of the Crown, wearer of the Ring. If he wills it, there's very little he can't do. It's why Clockwork can't start this cycle again. And why Danny presses his needle finger into the cult leader’s forehead.

There's no sudden cut to black, but the glassy eyes go dark as Danny twirls his finger just so and removes the last four months of memories.

What he'll think happened in that time frame instead, Danny doesn't know and doesn't care. He scrambles the brains of twenty cultists, Ember gives her command, and they stumble out of the United Center like zombies.

“Hell of a way to start our tour,” Ember says as they watch the cultists stumble home in confusion.

“I don't think we'll have time to do a run before they open the stadium. Technus’s light setup got all messed up.”

“Eh, he'll have it fixed in an hour.” Ember turns to Danny. “Ready to give Chicago a concert to remember?”

“Let's do it.”

Chapter Text

The concert is one to remember. It's Danny's first with Ember, his first time on a big stage. The bright lights almost fade away, he sweats too much in the heat to forget them, as he sings and rocks and mixes sounds.

Being a DJ isn't the focus of his core, but he loves it anyway. People scream Ember's name, and she gets them to chant DJ DP at some point while he improvises on the theremin, the electronic whines bringing a spooky vibe to the concert.

At one point, Ember looks at him while she sings ‘High King Down’, aura flashing in curiosity. Danny flashes fang and flares his aura strong enough to escape his rib cage, joy and patience. 

No more secrets in the band.

No more secrets from friends.

Clockwork shows up in Danny's dressing room after, interrupting Danny's guzzle of a bottle of water.

“I see you’ve accepted your rule.”

Danny glares at him. “I'm not going to the Keep to command the Realms.”

“Of course not. But you have declared yourself King to your subjects for the first time. You are starting to assemble your court.” He pauses.

Danny locks eyes with him, continuing to drain the water bottle. If Clockwork is waiting for Danny to extend an invitation to his inner circle, he'll be waiting awhile. 

Eventually, Clockwork sighs. “This is what's best for the Realms.”

At sixteen, Danny believed him. At twenty-five? He knows Clockwork has been twisting gears in the background. Danny believes himself a better king than Vlad would have been, but Danny's not sure he's the best option ever. Sometimes, he doesn't think he's better than Pariah Dark. Danny has equally abandoned his duties these past nine years. All Danny wants is to make music and spend his nights staring at the stars. The Realms don’t need a ruling king.

Danny is a young ghost and a younger king. Clockwork caught him off guard with this time loop. He appreciates it a little; this version is way better than the first, but he hates how he feels sixteen again, Clockwork sliding the Ring of Rage on his finger and saddling him with responsibility while he’s reeling from a fight.

When Clockwork says something is best for the Realms, Danny now believes it's actually best for Clockwork. 

No more.

“I'll decide what's best for the Realms,” Danny says. “You wanted me to accept my rule? Fine. The Crown is mine. Ghosts are mine. The Realms will know, the band gossips, and I've built my court. I am ruling. That means you stop butting into my life. If you think the time stream needs tinkering, you tell me why, how, and when. Can't have anyone undermining the king now, can we?”

Clockwork shifts from an old man to a child.

“Can we?” Danny presses, power filling the room.

He is High King of the Infinite Realms. He's keyed into its ectoplasm, and the Realms’s ectoplasm runs through every ghost - bodybound, deceased, and neverborn. Danny hasn't controlled Clockwork yet, but he can.

“Of course not, your Majesty,” Clockwork says with a bow.

He fades away, leaving Danny alone in his dressing room.

Danny squeezes the water bottle, the crinkle not too dissimilar to the sound of creaking ice. It soothes him, a tiny bit.

So he's king. Danny has known that. So he's accepted he's got subjects to rule, and he might have to protect the Crown. Okay. 

“Yo,” Ember pokes her head through the walls of their dressing room. “Your aura's whack. Things okay?”

Next step, Danny has to figure out what type of ruler he is. But while he figured out how to be a ghost mostly on his own, he can figure this out with friends.

“Let's go celebrate a good opening night, and then tomorrow, I'll tell you my version of High King Down.”

She stares at him, catching the deflection, but nods. “Then hurry up, baby bop. The others are waiting.”

Danny grins, stepping through the wall into her dressing room. “I could use at least two drinks.”

Ember ruffles his hair and leads him through the center to where the others wait on the roof. Danny takes a look at the stars, sighs, and then enjoys the night with friends.