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Danny's Nest

Tim gets sacrificed in a ritual to summon "the ALL powerful conqueror, Phantom". And by sacrificed, I mean Tim really dies and Danny is forced into his body forcefully.

There's no coming back from that. Not even after the cultists are stopped.

dissociativehyperfixating

The bats arrive to find Tim crying and unresponsive in the center of the summoning circle, the cultist all knocked out around him. Danny is absolutely devastated at the turn of events, he is trapped because the moment he leaves the body it will die for good. His only hope is that the soul manifests as a ghost and that ghost fuses with the body, which will lead to a new halfa. Tim’s spirit was charged with enough ecto during the ritual to guarantee he comes back as a ghost, but not enough to immediately manifest. He needs time, his spirit follows Danny unconsciously to gather more ecto to form a ghost, even if Danny can’t see him yet. The question is, will the bats let Danny stay in the body long enough for that to happen? or will they try to banish him first and ask questions later.

mango-forest

Phantom blankly stared at the blood surrounding him. His hand reached up to absentmindedly touch the gushing wound across his throat, feeling the slow healing begin as his ectoplasm fused with the body’s circulatory system. It was not a pleasant feeling; there was blood and dirt mixing and drying on his skin. He took a breath (and wasn’t that a novel feeling after years of not being able to?) and looked at the kneeling cultists surrounding him.

Feeling the weight of his stare, one of them hurriedly spoke: “Your Majesty! We’ve not dared to hope that you would answer our request, but you have graced us with your presence. For that, we are humbly grateful. We have—”

“This was a child,” Phantom noted. His voice was hoarse, the vocal chords repairing themselves as he spoke. He knew that the body was young, fresh and soft in a way that spoke of inexperience. It was nothing about a physical feeling—the actual physical state of the body, but it was a feeling nonetheless.

The cultist blinked. “Ah, we do not know the exact age of Red Robin. But, surely you are pleased, Your Majesty? The younger the vessel, the more time you may have to guide the world.”

“A vessel,” Phantom repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth, tongue feeling foreign. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard a tinny amalgamation of voices. He forgot how limited hearing was. (Forgot how quiet it was when the Infinity in his head was muffled.) “Vessel. Ves-sell. You have given me a child for a vessel.”

There were shifts among the cultists. “We are aware it is not the most dignified vessel for you, Your Majesty,” a new one said. They faltered for moment as Phantom turned his gaze towards them. “But he is one of Gotham’s most significant vigilantes! Surely, his body is fit enough to contain you?”

“You slaughtered a child. . . to contain me.” Phantom’s voice was cold, a quiet danger in his voice. “You thought you could contain me, the High King of the Infinite Realms? The audacity you have rivals the king before me. I do not require a vessel. You slaughtered a child for something I did not need.”

The air grew heavy. Out of the corner of his eye, Phantom saw one of the cultists fall limp. A flinch went through the rest, and multiple people started quietly gasping as it got harder to breathe. “Your—Your Majesty,” the first cultist choked out. Phantom made sure to keep his own breathing level, consciously keeping track of every breath the body needed. It would not be good if it died just because he forgot to breathe.

Phantom continued: “The only reason this body has not died is because I am now inhabiting it.” Distantly, he realized that all background noises had stopped. It was now only him and the quiet wheezing of cultists. “To assume that I, the High King of the Infinite Realms would require a vessel, would condone a child vessel, is a crime worthy of death. This child’s blood stains your hands, and so your blood will pay it back in full. Only out of respect of this child, I do not use my own hands to do this.”

The average human body was not able to withstand a high level of power. The most it could take would be the power of a Being. Frost started to cover the floor, and the cultists began pleading Phantom to stop. He did not; the child probably pled for his life too. The cultists did not stop, and so neither would he. Just as the last person dropped to the floor, hair frosted over and blue in the face, Phantom heard a window shatter. He did not look away from the cultist, but he did hear a deep voice start to talk.

“Red Robin.” More footsteps from the window area, all different levels of noise, all different people. “Red Robin, report. What happened?”

Slowly, Phantom turned to look at the people who just came in. All were regarding him with caution, the closest being a large man in an all black vigilante suit. After Phantom took note of their outfits, he looked at the body he was inhabiting, seeing the suit he had ignored earlier. He looked back up. “You are his team,” he said. After a moment, he corrected himself: “You are his family.”

“And you’re inhabiting my brother’s body,” a man with a black and blue suit stated, smiling. It was not a nice smile. “We heard over the comms.”

“Comms,” Phantom said slowly, rolling the word around like he did with ‘vessel.’ “Comms. Comm. Com-mun-i-cation. C—”

“Who or what are you?” a man with a red helmet harshly interrupted. His hand rested on a holstered gun that Phantom eyed in idle interest.

“I am Phantom, of the Infinite Realms.”

“Why would they summon you? What is your purpose here? Is Red Robin still in there?” the black-clad man from earlier asked. On the last question, a note of desperate urgency bled through. Ha. Bled through.

“Red Robin is your son?” Phantom asked.

There was no hesitation. “Yes.”

Phantom looked at him. Looked at the sweat lining the man’s exposed jaw; he could easily imagine the man running towards the warehouse as he listened to his son bleed out. “I am keeping his body alive.” He tilted his head up, exposing his neck and therefore the blood caked slit of his throat. It was wide enough that they could see a sliver of muscle throbbing beneath. “My ectoplasm is bonding to the body, accelerating the healing. Once the body is fully healed, I will leave.”

“You will not!” a child demanded. Another child, his mind crooned, a young one.

Phantom paused and looked at the people staring at him with grief barely hidden in their eyes. He took in their ready stances, the determination filling their frames. Oh. “You misunderstand,” he soothed. “Once the body is healed, your Red Robin will inhabit it again. While I heal this body, I will have Fright Knight search for his soul. It might take a while.”

“Fright Knight?” the child asked.

“A friend.” Phantom smiled at him. It only seemed to anger the child further.

“Why?” the blue-clad man asked. It was not a question. “How long will it take?”

He thought for a moment. “The body can be healed relatively quickly,” he informed them. “Red Robin’s soul will be the real determinator. Newly departed souls are. . . fragile. Some do not form at all. The time it takes relies entirely on their willpower, resilience, purpose. What is the time dilation here relative to the Realms?” Phantom mumbled the last sentence to himself.

“Red Robin has high levels of all three,” the black-clad man informed him, clearly wanting Phantom to give them a specific time frame.

“Mm. Then, at most—considering the time dilation—three months. At least, two weeks. Time here moves faster,” Phantom politely told them.

“And how do we know you’re not just trying to save your own skin?” the red helmet demanded.

Phantom blinked at him. “If you know a magic-user, they can verify. Anyone who knows more than the basic magics know this: an Ancient has no reason for a vessel.”

cyrwrites

halfblackwolfdemon

This is so goooooood, oh my lord

britcision

Mmm Danny having to hang around while Fright Knight looks for Tim

Actually, the bats are here. They can see Danny call Frighty in the first place! Lemme noodle in here for a minute 😈

—————

The newcomers didn’t look particularly convinced by his reassurances, still very tense and aggressive. It’s almost cute, really; little creatures rallying around a wounded pack mate.

Like they seriously believe they’re a threat to him.

Phantom smiles, careful not to let it spread too wide. This body is human, young, and he’s already putting it back together.

“If I did not wish to return your Red Robin to you, I wouldn’t still be here,” he reminds them gently, inclining his head.

Honestly, in more ways than one. Nothing but his own desire to protect the child keeps him in his flesh. And if he did want to take this body and go, there’s nothing they could do to stop him.

This also doesn’t seem to reassure these people, the smallest gripping his sword like he’s about to attack. It’s the blue one that speaks though, smiling in spite of his tension.

Maybe because of it? Phantom can dimly remember adrenaline. There’s probably a lot in this body right now. It’s hard to tell, when everything is still so much smaller, slower, duller than he’s used to.

“We’re not that easy to escape,” the blue and black one says confidently, and Phantom’s smile turns fond.

Well, once his new halfa is ready to be himself again, he’ll have people to look after him. (Danny’s really not letting himself think about what a new halfa will mean. How that will change things.)

He decides to give them just… the faintest indication. After all, if they keep up this posturing, keep pushing for a fight, they’ll only run the risk of hurting this body.

If they could force him out too early, they’ll only kill Tim. Best they at least believe that he is staying for his own reasons and those alone.

It’s been a while since he’s done it in a human shape, but the feeling comes with a wash of nostalgic familiarity. Phantom turns invisible, flies across the room before the humans can complain.

Stands behind the blue and black one. To prove his point.

“I’m not that easy to catch,” he says simply, switching invisibility for intangibility as the man swings.

The batons sing with electricity as they pass through him, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, but no further damage. He raises his hands, the same calm smile still on his face.

“I promise you, I mean you no harm. I will heal this body, and keep it alive until Red Robin can return. Then I will leave.” He stops for a moment, considering, a slight frown on his face.

It might not be quite that simple. He remembers dimly that being a fresh halfa is… a learning curve.

“I will leave his body,” he decides, the smile returning as he looks between them, “but I will remain, should he wish it. There are… complications when coming back from the dead.”

They all jerk at that, and Phantom belatedly realises a woman has joined them. She’s above, in the rafters, dressed in black and silent as a shadow. He barely notes her before the red helmeted speaks, bitter and angry.

“The fuck are you doing to him?” He growls, the mechanical stripping of the helmet not quite taking the worry past what Phantom can hear.

Phantom blinks, surprised.

“Healing him,” he explains again, and then he understands. Death-touched, but probably not familiar with the Realms. They haven’t even worked out who he is.

Hmm. How best to explain.

“Red Robin died in the ritual that summoned me. In his last breath, he left this body and I was forced inside, unnecessarily but… I am glad. My true summoning requires no sacrifice, and certainly not the death of a child.” His voice drops to a growl, low and rough through the slit throat, and Phantom clears his throat, forcing himself to remain calm.

The temperature dropped several degrees, and several of the new children are now looking at the frozen cultists like they’ve put something together.

“For this offence, those performing this abomination have been punished. But by placing me here… there is a chance for me to right this wrong. To give your brother his life back, should his soul return. But there is a cost.”

That seems to settle them, oddly, as none of his reassurances have. Well, Phantom won’t judge.

“He is steeped in my power, and what it takes to heal him will leave its mark. So will his death, and his transformation into a ghost. This body is his and he will be able to rebind to it, but he will be conscious before he is strong enough to do it. It will be a strange experience for him.”

Off the top of his head, Phantom can’t think of any that would rival it. Even ghosts who form normally don’t do it while watching their own body walk around.

The all black clad man doesn’t look appeased, exactly, but the explanation has worn down an edge. He is still gruff.

“You won’t object if we verify your claims?” He asks, aggression tempered but not gone.

Phantom shrugs, moving to sit on a box.

It’s been so long since he had muscles, he almost forgot they tired. He’s got to be careful with this body. It’s still missing most of its blood.

“Not at all. Please, summon any magic users you trust. In the meantime, I must call my knight to set him to find your son. The sooner he begins the search, the sooner he will be safe.”

Not that anything would happen to a fresh baby ghost, even if he had gotten sucked into the realms as Danny was pulled out.

He pauses for a moment, watching them. Still armed, still tense, still looking for any excuse to make this a fight. Thinks about Fright Knight.

“He, ah… he’s a little alarming. You may wish to prepare yourselves,” he adds, and as expected, they all tense further. The black and blue one approaches, slowly, carefully.

Like Phantom might spook. Or bite him. He hadn’t planned to, but now…

“How about we just get confirmation on your story first? It shouldn’t take long, they’re on their way now,” he adds when Phantom cocks his head.

Ah. The comm-unications again. That might be the source of those tinny voices he’d been hearing too.

Phantom takes a moment, tests the ectoplasm in the room. There’s enough that if the Red Robin soul is here, it will be able to grow. Not enough to tell for sure where he is.

“I would say… an hour before Red Robin can be tracked,” he decides, nodding. Gives the young man a gentle smile. “It will not matter before then.”

Of course, if they’re all extremely lucky, the poor kid’s soul will be right here. Phantom makes sure to leak a little more ectoplasm than usual, nourishment in case he has not been taken further.

The odds aren’t great, active summoning to the Realms and all, but they’re there.

His agreement at least takes the edge off, the others all returning their weapons. The ceiling woman doesn’t come down, and they don’t look up, but they know she’s there. He can taste the knowledge on his tongue.

And blood.

He’s kinda gross right now.

He turns intangible again, this time more focused, and the dirt falls through him to the box below. Phantom shifts to a new box, frowns down at the blood still caking him.

It’s his, the body’s, and it comes with him. Annoying.

The black and blue one, still the closest, notices. Gives a strained smile.

“Do, ah… do you need to wash up?” He asks carefully.

The others are talking. Hushed whispers, conferring. Planning.

Phantom just hopes they won’t try anything foolish. He’ll take Red Robin’s body somewhere safe if he has to, but… his family should know. Have the chance to accept him.

He refocuses on the blue and black one, nods.

“Please? I’m not usually sticky,” he adds, regaining solidity and frowning at his bloody hands.

The blue and black one nearly laughs, high and more adrenaline than humour, and nods. Pulls a pack of wet wipes from a belt pouch.

It takes Phantom a while to remember how they work, but the blue and black one helps, and they at least have his hands clean before the practitioners arrive.

Things promptly get loud, overwrought, and tense again, but Phantom pays it little attention. Everything he told them is true, and at least those magic users know who he is.

No matter how upset they are that he’s here, they won’t find any lies.

There’s a pretty woman, long dark hair and a fancy top hat, who approaches him with cautious respect in her eyes. She asks what he wants, what price he expects them to pay to return Red Robin.

Phantom explains again. No price; it was a stupid, botched summoning, so he’s just cleaning up the mess.

She isn’t happy with that, and nor is the trenchcoated man behind her. So Phantom thinks of a price.

A warning. Spreading the word to all magic users, at least in this world, that you do not fucking sacrifice children to summon the High King Phantom. Preferably not sacrificing anyone, but he knows what cults are like.

It’s just not fun without a little blood sacrifice, is it?

They go back to reassure Red Robin’s family, and Phantom decides it’s time. They know he’s telling the truth now, their own friends are with them, and it’s been most of that hour.

Calling the Fright Knight is as easy as breathing. The body isn’t his, doesn’t hold any of his possessions, but the Ring of Rage appears on his finger the second he wishes for it.

The blue and black one, Nightwing as he’s asked Phantom to call him, has stuck close. Keeping an eye on his fallen brother.

Phantom likes him. He makes word jokes, more when he’s nervous.

So when he asks what the ring is, what Phantom is doing, Phantom smiles.

“Calling my knight. He will find your brother, and keep him safe. There are very few more skilled.” More skilled in nightmares and fear, but there’s no need to specify.

The Fright Knight has only grown more powerful with an active King to serve, and he is an excellent guardian. He will find the forming ghost, should there be one, and keep him safe.

Phantom raises the ring to his lips, Nightwing watching curiously but not interrupting the others. They’re still in heavy debate.

That ends when a glowing green rift tears through the warehouse and the Fright Knight, atop his beautiful black Nightmare steps through. The sword isn’t in his hand, but his burning hair flares hotter when he sees they have company.

The magic users are swearing, scrabbling, the other heroes (Nightwing calls them that, at least. Phantom thinks they may be a little young for heroics) reaching for weapons.

Phantom clears his throat, and once more the Fright Knight has eyes only for him. Even a prison of flesh cannot disguise the King from his subjects.

The Fright Knight dismounts his steed, ignoring the panicking humans (since that is his favourite kind), and kneels before Phantom. His head dips, awaiting command.

Nightwing manages a shaky laugh, the only human not holding a weapon and primed to attack.

“So…. You weren’t kidding about him making an impression,” he offers weakly, and Phantom smiles.

He remembers, just dimly, the terror his knight used to evoke in him. Fright Knight remembers too. It’s the bar of how far they have come.

“You should see him when he’s angry,” he remarks idly, then nods to his knight. “The boy whose body this is. His soul will be forming soon, becoming a ghost. Find him and bring him to me, that I may return this body to him.”

Simple commands, the kind the Fright Knight likes best. Not quite his usual mission of spreading order, but he has always liked a hunt. Which does make Phantom pause.

“Try not to scare him,” he adds, aware the Fright Knight is terrifying without trying to be. The kneeling knight hesitates for a moment, gleaming black armour unnaturally still.

Not even breath to cause movement. He’s thinking, probably how best to obey Phantom’s order. It’s really, really hard for him not to scare anyone.

An idea strikes, and Phantom turns to Nightwing.

“Is there something of your family he could take? A symbol to soothe your brother and know he’s a friend?”

Nightwing’s still staring, awestruck and unable to look away from the massive kneeling knight.

It’s the father, black clad and tensed who steps forward. Reaches into the innumerable pouches on his belt, and pulls out a yellow cape that should not have fit.

The red helmeted one stops breathing when he sees it. The smallest hisses between his teeth, backing away.

Their father ignores both, stepping slowly, surely towards Phantom and his kneeling knight. Offers the cape.

It’s made for a child, and as Phantom takes it he notes that it’s just too small for the body he’s now wearing. Wouldn’t be half bad as a blanket though.

“This. This will be… he will know who gave it to you.” It’s the most emotion he seems capable of, and Phantom nods, taking the cape with the reverence that deserves.

He passes it down to the Fright Knight, who takes it with a gentleness that still surprises Phantom on occasion. Such a large, spiked figure seems like he’d always be rough, but he can be delicate.

Then the Fright Knight nods and stands, turning to survey the room, and even the humans at the other side of the warehouse take another leap back.

Red Robin’s soul isn’t here, as Phantom expected, and it’s confirmed when the Fright Knight remounts his steed and turns, spurring her back into the Infinite Realms.

Phantom smiles at the humans.

“So. That’s that sorted out.”

———

lirabuswavi

There are several beats where no one talks. It stretches. Phantom tilts his head. "Is there a further issue?" He asks.

"Yeah, you're possessing my little brother's fucking corpse. He-fuck!" The red helmeted one (he should probably ask for names) snarled and kicked out at the wall.

"Hood-" the one in black and blue tries to speak, but is ferociously cut off.

"No, don't you DARE tell me to fucking calm down! He's dead! Tim fucking died! Another Robin died alone and in pain in a warehouse, help just a few minutes too late and- fuck! Motherfucking," Hood let out an incensate noise of raise, half cry of anger half sob, "We heard our little brother die, and you ask me if there's a fucking ISSUE?!" It was at this point that Hood turned violently and accusatorily to Phantom.

Phantom paused. He... rarely dealt with the bereaved anymore. He remembered guilt. He remembered grief. He knew that in each moment of intense grief, he imagined that it had felt like dying. Again. He knew better now.

But he also knew it was distant. It had been so, so long since he was human and felt things the way they did. He had long gotten over that, but every so often it panged back into him. The feeling of other. The feeling that though he may command Space, there was still so much between him and others.

Phantom slid off the box he was sitting on and approached Hood. The beings around him scrambled; to get out of or into his way, he didn't know. Hood refused to move. Phantom stopped in front of him.

"I grieve with you," He spoke through still healing vocal cords (deadaloneafraidpainnononoIwanttolivenonoIwantmyDad-) and let the tears he had hardly noticed holding back began to fall. "Your grief is mine, and I grieve with you," And then Phantom began to Sing.

It wasn't in any human tongue. It didn't use vocal cords so it wouldn't strain the child's (a child) body any further.

It echoed and reverberated through the warehouse and heard as others began to sob underneath its weight. It was loss. It was grief. It was despair and pain made into a noise and driven into the soul in horrible, haunting melody.

But there was hope. Of course he added hope, this wasn't the end. Trauma and memories would remain, as would scars, but healing would be found in time. A new joy of lost loved ones coming back because they would not truly rest until they did. It wasn't the end. Not a goodbye, but until I see you again.

Death was not the end.

His Song tapered off in one final warble that rang through the warehouse until silence returned. The people within stared at him. The pretty magic user sniffed heavily before lowering her head. Good, she knew the significance of a Song delivered by one of the dead.

"We are honoured," She spoke tremulously through her own tears.

Phantom inclined his head in return. "The honour is mine," he replied. Then paused. "Hood?" He asked.

"What?" The man asked, voice warbling and broken through his helmet. There was a sharp burst of static that might've been a sniff.

The edges of Phatom's vision through this body was darkening and blurring at the edges. He had forgotten a lot of things about blood loss. Like the dizziness that came with, lightheadedness, and fainting.

"You might want to catch. I don't think adding a concussion to the list of injuries is a good idea," Phantom collapsed in a rush of darkened vision and briefly feeling strong arms catch him and hearing buzzing shouts before he was out.

halfblackwolfdemon

God what a gut-punch that addition was. So goooooood

help-i-need-a-cool-username

IM SCREAMING THIS IS SO GOOD

a-gil-rebel

Danny woke up in a bed that felt familiar, but he knew it wasn't. It amazed him how even with a completely different soul, a body knew certain things. He sat up and took inventory of the boy's injuries. At least 'Hood' had taken his advice to prevent a concussion. The boy's feet found their way to the en-suite, and Phantom had to double take what he saw in the mirror. Admittedly, a bit more buff, but otherwise the child was the spitting image of him when he was young. When he was human.

̴̧̡̛̪͍̬̣̱̟̇͆̿́̄́͒̔̔̽̀͐̈́̈͠H̶̢̟͎̱̠̜̰͉͌̀̊̈́̿̅̑͂̓͗͐̐͂͛̿̅̚͜͝ͅų̴̺̜̰̩̥̤̩̹̲͙̼̗̓̊́̽̈̿͌̎̿̉̀͒̄̏͜͝m̶̜̻̱̝̮̹̞͔̦̙̑̃̍̓̇͗̆͘ą̶͇̬͕͍̥̤͕̝̳͙͍̺̬̪̱̻͛̈́̀ņ̷̡̛̣̹̠̳͕̟̞͔̞͇̺̘̻͗̄̐̒̈́̓̎̅͂̍̂̇̋̀̇̕̕͜͠ ̶̗̠̰͉͖̟̈̈́̿̒̑̀̏̀̍͝͝h̴̲̺̹̊́̊̄̉̕͜u̷̡̨̟͚͙̦̞̹̼̬͆͐̎̓̐̆͗̈́͒̑̕͜͜͠ḿ̷̺̪̝̹̼͍͊̋́̓́͋̎͋͛͒͊̅͌̿̚͠à̷̭͂͝n̷̢͖̠͍̗̈́́̋ ̷̨͉̪̟̩̙̙̥̯͚̔̈́̽͂̀̉͊h̴̡̟͉̭̞̝͔͕̻̼̲̫̮̰̮̑̌́͐̎͜͠u̷̡̢̖̪̒͑̃͊̐͗̀̔̽̐̋̂̇̚̕͝͝m̴̰̻̹̦͗͊͂̉̆̈́̈́̾̉̓̒͋̅̿̕̕̚͝ḁ̴͙̱͚̠̎̆̎̕͝n̵̞̰̈́̓͛͊̀̇̿͂̈́ ̷̦͉͔̩͋͐́̕ḥ̴̰͎̮͈̬͓͕̑̋̈́ụ̵̰̻̻͔̣̙̹͓͖̪̮̻̻̹͉̗̰͈̒̃̈́͌̈́̕m̸̛̛͖̥͍͚̥̤͚͗̌̇́͑̈́ą̴̢̧̰͈͈͎̜̗̫̞͖̟̳̰̼̼̙̓̇̆̓́̔̆͂̉̐̄̈́͑̂̇̑̔͐͘n̶̛͎̫̲̫̳͓̙̖̤̝̂́̂̇͐̔̈́͂̓̀͐͊͐͠

Phantom shook the obsession away, taking breaths to make sure his mind quieted. Focusing on the task at hand, he made sure to clean the boy's wounds that still needed attending before deciding a shower would unfortunately be required. The boy's body chose the temperature it liked, and he stepped in to clean himself up. Somehow, by the time he was out of the shower, the boys body was shaking.

Weakness? Pain? He ran a mental checklist through but couldn't find anything to match. Even the distant idea of hunger wasn't quite what was needed. Dressing himself quickly, he set out to find someone who might know what was happening. Gratefully, the one who had called himself Nightwing was nearby.

"Nightwing." The dark-haired man jumped, and Phantom mulled over the idea he was in his civilian identity. He'd have to keep names straight in the future.

"T-Ti- I mean, High Ki-"

"Phantom is fine here. You are not my subjects, even if Hood is a tad liminal." He waggled his hand at the end of his sentence and got a bit lost in the moment at the sensation of talking with ones hands. Had that come from himself, or the boy? He didn't remember to listen to what Nightwing was saying, and zoned back in to him having seemingly asked a question.

"I apologize, I came to find you because of an issue I'm unable to find with the boy." Horror crossed over the taller man's face, and Phantom continued. "He seems to be shakey, but I don't believe hunger is what is causing it, though I'm positive he will need to eat soon, yes?"

An incredulous laugh fell out of Nightwings mouth, stressed and genuine at the same time.

"Let's get some coffee in your system. That should help."

Phantom sat at the table of dressed-down team members with all eyes on him. Oh well, at least the shaking had stopped after his second cup of coffee. He never liked the stuff when he was alive and couldn't help but fight the body of the boy that craved it. The smallest's glare never left him, and Phantom tried not to find amusement in it. In the end, he couldn't help but push his buttons.

"Isn't there a kids' table for you to be sitting at?"

The boy bent the fork in his hand, and the one who had been dressed in purple snorted at the end of the table, trying to hide it with choking noises.

Danny felt himself smile as he looked down at the toast in front of him. He understood the idea of eating gentle foods on an empty stomach, but after forcing himself through the coffee, he didn't know if he could do /toast/.

"Something not to your liking Master Ti- Phantom?" The butler, Alfred, he picked up, stood beside him as Phantom cleared the grimace from his face.

"Is this what the boy typically eats?"

"Define 'eats'." Nightwing asked, and Phantom tilted his head. "Tim didn't... doesn't." He clarified firmly. "Eat very often. He usually just runs on the coffee." He nodded to the empty cup in front of Phantom. He mulled around his options, not wanting to be picky, but taste really was bothersome.

"Maybe something similar then. A can of soup?" The woman who'd almost slipped Phantom's attention scoffed.

"Don't insult Alfred's cooking like that. He makes all his soups from scratch!" Phantom sighed.

"I will not request labor to be done at my personal expense. If this is what the boy eats, I will oblige."

The next day, they made eggs for him instead. Phantom was positive the amount of caffine being requested by the body was absolutely absurd, and spent most of the first day in the boys' room trying to outlast the shaking. He had four cups of coffee by the end of the day. Nightwing, Dick, had explained he was about 2 short. Mission accomplished so far.

He hadn't heard from Fright Knight yet, which was what he expected, but he could feel the unease as each day went by. After a week, he made sat down to talk to Bruce, the father, to make sure Tim's absence wouldn't have any repercussions. The man assured him they were used to keeping up appearances, and just asked him to focus on keeping his boy safe.

"Right, vi-g-il-antes. I remember the balance of keeping up appearances." Danny tapped his chin, reaching to find a memory before smiling with whimsy. "I never was good at that when I needed to be." Bruce gave him a look of surprise and suspicion, but Phantom left to give the boy more rest. He felt like he needed to catch up on sleep but was determined to keep a skeep schedule similar to the others so the boy didn't come back out of sorts.

"Do not confuse yourself for one of us 'Phantom.'" Damien, the littlest, was outside of Bruce's office as he left. He stopped and tilted his head at the child. He continued.

"/You/ are not a vigilante, Red Robin is, /is/. And the sooner we are rid of you, the better off we will be."

"How old are you?"

The child seethed with anger at the question.

"What does that matter to you!"

Phantom did not answer.

"....13."

Phantom laughed, and some ghost speak rolled out with it. The boy covered his ears at the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound.

"I was about your age the first time I died." He said before walking off. At the end of the hall, the one called Hood punched a wall before stalking off.

"He's playing us dammit! I heard him talking to Damien, calling himself a vigilante, talking about when he died. He's using us to take Tim's body." Jason was pacing in front of Dick who was leaning against the back of the couch.

"Bruce trusts Zatanna and Constantine, and they said everything checked out on their end. All we have to do is wait."

"And what if he changes his mind?" Dick didn't have an answer, and Hood stalked off. Phantom, sitting invisible in the corner of the room, took into account the frustration still lingering in the boy's family. He'd have to find something to get Tim home as fast as possible.

The next morning, Danny woke up to decor around the mansion. He hadn't stepped outside since being brought to the manor and was surprised to realize it was December. His rage boiled inside him all over again at the idea that this child might miss a Christmas due to the cultists. Dick was the first to check on him when the temperature of the manor dropped to as cold as it was outside. He had to break the door open with his shoulder to get through the ice.

"I let my emotions get the better of me," Danny explained, "I meant no harm. I just want this halfa to get home safely." Eye twitching, he hardly registered Hood's question, who had rushed up almost as quick.

"Half!? I thought he was coming back fine. You lied to us!" Hood jabbed a finger into Phantom's chest, and it amused him.

"Halfa is a term for a half ghost, half human. There's only been a handful in existence in the history of time. Like I said, it will take him some time to adjust once he returns."

"But he will return..." Dick asked, and Phantom sighed, smiling as honestly as he could.

"He will."

In fact, even Phantom was getting impatient with his own timeline. He wanted the boy home for Christmas, even if it meant little to him. Cass found him bouncing his knee incessantly in one of the many sitting rooms and sat with him. They let the silence hang a moment until she urged a conversation.

"I thought you'd gotten Tim's caffine addiction under control?" Phantom laughed and steadied his knee, pausing to find the right word.

"I'm... frustrated, that's all."

"You don't trust your knight?"

"I do, I'm simply being impatient. But I do not want to call upon someone who could make things worse." Cass shifted in her seat, on edge.

"Who could make things worse? More cultists?"

"Worse. A trophy hunter."

He decided to leave it to a vote. Bruce gathered the team for him, and Phantom proposed Skulker.

"Unfortunately, he will come with a price, one I'm willing to pay, but his demands can be very... specific."

"Will he hurt Tim?" The father asked, and Phantom had to be honest.

"There's a possibility. His weapons on a newly formed Halfa are brutal as is, let alone one separated from his body." Danny shuddered, and a glance was shared between the family.

"We can wait then."

"Bruce-" Hood objected, but Bruce stood.

"We trust your knight to deliver my son back to me." Phantom nodded.

"It will be done."

It was two days before Christmas, and the vigilantes seemed as busy as ever. While some of their more friendly denizens laid low during the holiday, others seemed to ramp things up. Phantom had taken to wearing the "comms" the boy usually wore and stayed with Oracle in the batcave to monitor. Something about the body needing to be where it was meant to be, or whatever Danny told them when he worried about their safety.

"Even the infinite realms have a treaty for the holidays!" He'd complained once after they got home from a particularly rough night. He wasn't equipped to deal with their combat, though, and didn't join them on any patrols. Not his ghost-monkeys, not his ghost-circus. Until it was.

"What is with these guys and rituals lately!?" Red Hood's voice crackled through the comms, sounding about as pissed off as always. Phantom smiled, amused. Oracle was clacking away, giving them intel to get them into the building, and Danny glanced at the monitor. Cass was first inside, so Danny watched her feed.

Wait... why did that look familiar? Phantom ran through his own mind and realized where he'd seen that before. "Shit."

Oracle did a double take before telling everyone on comms to hold.

"What!? Oracle, what's going on!" Nightwing said, others joining in on the sentiment.

"Phantom, what is this? Don't tell me they're running into a trap."

"Do you want me to lie then?" His eyes shifted to her, then continued. "Whats the fastest way to them?" They glanced at the snow storm whipping around on the monitor, even flying he'd never be able to see his way through the storm.

"Take the batmobile, the spare has self driving disabled at the moment, but it's the fastest way, and you'll be able to follow the roads on the map. Everyone should be off the streets in this weather." Phantom, who had started walking immediately, suddenly faltered, muttering.

"Drive myself? Of all the things...." Danny growled before hopping into the car and getting on comms. "Everyone, ditch the stealth. Disrupt the summoning at all costs. I have a backup in case I'm unavailable to be summoned, but he doesn't exactly play nice. Stop the ritual, I'm on my way in case you cannot."

Looking around at all the buttons and wheels, Danny groaned.

"Why oh why did I never learn to drive."

"WAIT WHAT-"

The screeching in his comms had no time to react before Danny floored the car, definitely hitting a rock on the way out. He didn't bother trying to look out the windshield. Everything was pitch black, but he was able to follow the map on the screen well enough. Now, was the dial on the right speed or RPM? He decided it must be RPM since it was maxed out at a thousand. How did he used to know /rocket science/ and yet a car baffled him. Huh. Speaking of baffled, the little marker on the map was getting very very-

"Oh shit-" was all that came through the comms before a large explosion on the first floor of the building, making the foundation shake. Ten floors up, the cultists brought more muscle this time, and it was even harder than before to get to the ritual.

Nightwing and Red Hood were able to break through the ranks first, but not in time to stop the shockwave of energy as the ritual was completed. The entire room filled with darkness, spare pin sized lights like stars, and two giant glowing red eyes.

"Your Majesty! We have succeeded where our brothers did not! No sacrifice was made in a human attempt to contain the High King of the Infinite Realms."

A haughty cackle reverberated throughout the space.

"Your flattery is welcome, but I am not that bastard king. He's pleasantly unavailable, which is lucky for me." A ripple of muttering and fear rolled through the cultists, and Nightwing and Red Hood readied their weapons. Where was Phantom!?

Their movement brought attention to themselves, and the red eyes shifted onto them.

"Do you dare raise your weapons to me, human and death-touched? I am Nocturn, the ghost of sleep, I am the king of dreams, so please. Give me a reason to start my harvest."

"You will do no such thing, Noct." Phantom proclaimed as he flew to stand with Nightwing and Hood. The being hissed and spit at him, shrinking down to a being still well over twelve feet tall, with ram's horns and a body made of stars.

"The bastard king himself, my my, it's been a while since I've seen you in a human body. Playing pretend are we?"

"Silence!" Phantom commanded, but the being didn't back down.

"You command me while parading around playing puppet, leaving me to clean up your messes." Nocturn gestured at the cultists cowering, and the ones captured by the rest of Red Robin's team as they joined the room.

"I defetead you like this once before Noct. Will you make me do it again?"

The two glared at each other, trying to assert some kind of dominance until the larger of the two hissed and looked away.

"You have done what you were meant to by coming here, take these cultists, and do what you wish with them. I have already disposed of part of their organization, so you will tell me if you find out there are more as you pick through them." This seemed to please the demon, and an army of green horned creatures with eyes sewn shut appeared to cart the cultists away. Phantom seemed to sneer at their presence. "Sleepwalkers..."

In they blink of an eye, they disappeared. Leaving Phantom alone with the heroes.

"My apologies for how he acted. We have not gotten along in the past." As they started to head back, Danny reluctantly apologized again. "And for the car."

Stephanie hadn't stopped laughing since they hit the first floor. Bruce had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. There were a lot of buttons. But Damien couldn't let it go that the button was very clearly labeled, and that the windshield shield was in fact, meant to be opened while driving. He sort of wondered why it was pitch black instead of white.

"N-Not to interrupt but ah... is that normal?" Dick pointed to the mist pouring from Phantom's mouth, and it was then he felt the tug of Fright Knight.

"He's home."

cyrwrites

zylev-blog

The portal opened right in front of Phantom. Fright Knight stepped out first, kneeling in front of him. Then Tim floated out behind him. Tim locked eyes with Danny, his expression going from confused to angry.

Tim’s ghost form had light blue skin, pale red eyes, and dark blue hair. Other than that, it looked just like Tim when he was alive—hair that hung around his ears, short, and he was wearing what looked like a Red Robin suit, except the color had changed to green instead of red.

“Good job, Fright Knight.” Phantom praised, putting his hand on his Knight’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Tim demanded.

“My name is King Phantom,” He turned back to Tim to address him directly, “You were killed in a summoning that bound me to your body.”

“So, what?” Tim scowled, “You call me back here to gloat?”

“No. I’ve had your soul retrieved so that you could take this body back.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Now, Tim, listen carefully. Once I leave this body, it will die instantly.” He took another step towards the young ghost, “You will have one chance to merge with your body before it is too late. You will have to act fast.”

“What do I do?” Tim’s voice had changed into the more serious Red Robin tone that Danny had come to associate with vigilantism.

“Possession will have to be done on the deepest level, something I’m not even able to do because this is not my body. You’ll feel it when you get into the body, it’s instinctive. It’s like riding a bike.” Not that he remembered how to ride a bike, but nobody needed to know that.

“That’s not helpful.” Tim said.

“You’re overthinking it, as all young ghosts do.” His voice was amused. “Are you ready?”

“I…guess.” Tim looked nervous.

“Good.”

Fright Knight moved to the side to give them more room. The next second seemed to last forever—Danny left Tim’s body at the same time Tim’s ghost came forward. The body had barely dropped to the ground before a blue hue completely engulfed it, and Tim’s blue eyes flashed red as his ghost met his body once more. He knew that the merge was successful, since he had done the same thing all of those years ago.

“Now, Tim,” He said, allowing the shadowy form to merge together and create his own form.

He was tall, and wore his black armor with the DP logo on the front chest. A cape trailer behind him that showed the stars, galaxies, and planets of the universe, and a crown of pure white ice hovered on the top of his head. His pure white hair waved in a non existent breeze, and his green eyes locked onto Tim’s form.

“We really need to talk about your caffeine intake.”

sugardaddy-glucoseguardian

Phantom paused as everyone in the room stared openly at him.

"What?" Tim rasped, struggling with using his vocal chords again. Then everyone was moving, Tim was smashed against several bodies covered in Kevlar and leather.

Phantom smiled at the flailing boy within the family huddle. A strange nostalgia crept over his form. A longing to be human again.

Phantom and Fright Knight suddenly tense. And the family next to them stop in their reunion. Feeling the strange weight in the air and seeing the way the king and his knight step closer to one another with wary looks.

"What is it?" Hood asked. Phantom quickly glanced at the family before continuing his search of his surroundings.

"I'm afraid we have company. Except he's a bit of a trickster, the Ancient of Time." Phantoms space could feel the time disruptions rippling around the room. Unsure what the rusty clock was up to.

"Hello Danny. Hello Fright Knight." A voice echoed around the room. The family quickly encircled their newly returned member.

"Hello Clocky, what are you up to now?" Phantom said warily. Even Fright was tense unsure what the ancient of time was doing.

"Hmm, I was watching your time little king-" Phantom snorted, it has been a long time since he was little,-"and I saw how much you missed being alive." Phantom tensed further, a foreboding settled over the room.

"Phantom, what is he talking about?" Nightwing called from behind Tim.

Phantom grit his teeth, baring his fangs at the empty air.

"I was not lying when I said I was once alive, however it has been....some time since I was human." Phantom grit out.

"Yessss-" Clockworks voice hissed out with the sounds of pocket watches and static, "and I saw a few splits in your time little star king. I think it's time for a vacation from the Realms." Phantom growled wary and nervous, there were few that could actually do him harm and clockwork was the main one. Phantom opens his mouth to order him not to, when a squeezing pressure encircled his body.

Gasp! He curled forward, barely hearing the shouts behind him from Fright and the little hero family.

"Yes, a break from the Realms will do you well, plus young Tim will need a teacher yes? Who better to teach a new halfa than one of the original halfas."

Phantom shrieked as his form was compressed, ice shot across the floor and the room dropped several degrees. He was crushed smaller and smaller, the visible form he showed the humans only a fraction of his form. He was Space. He was massive.

He moaned and ice shattered as he clawed at the ground a shadowy hand much larger followed his movements, shrinking into a more human size.

He felt weight form within him, along his back, his legs, arms and head, bones forming from stardust. He shrieked again as shadowy green meat grew over the bones with sickening wet slapping sounds. He felt his core condense smaller a horrific crushing sensation, threatening to shatter, pleas tumbled out in ghost speak and English, Esperanto, Latin, Arabic, Gaelic, Russian, Hindi, German, and more warble throughout the room.

He can feel nails and hair grow along with skin, jelly fills the sockets of his new skull and form eyes, he takes his first gasping breath in years.

It finally seems to slow down leaving him gasping and panting, trembling and naked on the floor. He can hear footsteps come closer and then a heavy weight drapes over his shoulders, covering his body. He trembles with the new-old sensations.

Mnmmn emmd mmnnnd

What? He focuses on the sounds around him as they slowly come into focus.

"-a new body" He heard clockwork.

"What does that entail?" Growled Fright Knight.

"Not much, he simply will live again. Give him time to readjust to living and he will be a wonderful teacher for young Tim." Clockwork continued.

Danny's mind reeled. Human? Again? Without his Fright? His family? Who will keep him in check? Watch his back? Cuddle and fight with him? A lone ghost- or halfa- would go mad. Alone with humans.

He tunes back in,

"- without his permission, he is our King!" Frighty shouted at the Ancient. Ancients he deserves a raise and a vacation.

"True, however if I had let him choose he would have forbade me to do it, so I simply did it before he could stop me. Besides, I've seen how his time here goes. Eventually he will thank me." Clockwork was being awfully open with his information and intentions. Danny was even more suspicious.

However, as he raised a trembling hand to his face he saw fresh pale skin, unmarked except for the discoloration in the shape of his deathscar, light a birthmark lictenberg figure from his left hand up his arm to his chest. His hands had slightly discolored nails that, when tested, sliced through the concrete ground in claws.

His hair hung slightly in his face a dark pitch black just like before. He reached to feel what had covered him, Fright Knights cape. He clutched it closed in the front. Then attempted to stand. His new legs trembled under his weight. Footsteps echoed closer.

A hand comes into view. Black Kevlar with blue middle fingers, Nightwing.

Danny grasped his hand and stands up, not making eye contact. He feels scraped raw and vulnerable in a way he hasn't felt in decades.

"Thanks." He whispers, just as hoarse sounding as Tim did.

" You gave me my baby brother back, helping you stand is the least I can do." Danny risked a glance at him, for once a genuine smile was on his face.

"Well, now what?" The girl, Stefanie, Spoiler, called out, breaking the tension.

Clockwork materialized in the middle of the room. His stupid purple cloak rippled as he shifted from an old man to an adult.

"Now, you do an errand for me little star king. Starting with teaching young Tim how to be a halfa, and filtering out the rancid ectoplasm from young Jason. Fright Knight will find himself busy soon." Then he vanished.

Nightwings grip tightened on his hand.

Danny felt out his core, uncracked, but tender. Then his crown and ring, both were felt but hard to summon. He glanced at Fright Knight who looked nervous and dropped to a knee.

"Forgive me my King, I could not prevent him from altering your form." He sounded anguished and his core thrummed with regret, shame, pain, sorrow.

Danny sighed, echoing his own rumbles of shame and sorrow. "Rise Fright, this was not something you could have prevented. He is right unfortunately, with this new halfa body I cannot return to the Realms full time, I will need ypu to be my eyes and ears within the Realms, keep the peace as much as you can. I fear I may be stuck here for another human lifetime."

Fright Knight rose and gave him a cursory once over, he's sure he looks pathetic wrapped in his cape and trembling.

"If you are certain my King. -" He smirked, "I will say however, that the Ancient did not create this body in your original image. You appear closer to your young 20s and a mix of your human and ghost halves." Danny glared and could feel his eyes glow green, great he has to learn to control the scary eyes again.

"Whatever, go back to the Realms, I will figure out what to do here. I'm sure I have money stored away somewhere."

A portal ripped and Fright left, leaving Danny with a new body, and a family full of emotionally stunted vigilantes.

Great.

nightblackowlbat

I love how Clockwork humanized Phantom in the eyes of the bats by literally just turning him into a human, painfully, against his will.

Like, at first they just see King Phantom is this all powerful inscrutable eldritch entity holding their brother's body and life in the balance. And he's doing his best to put them at ease, okay? But it's been a long time since he's been alive, and while the empathy is there, the understanding takes a moment each time for him to reach.

He is still kind and shows kindness in his own haunting way through the song of grief and hope. And later he tries to relate to them (the scene where he references his own past vigilantism to Bruce, and compares his first age of death to Damian.) Despite the fact that these overtures backfire, they are still an olive branch offered when one was not owed.

And then there is Nocturne, and Phantom once again shows his willingness to protect and aid them. As well as his inability to drive 😂 (that part really cracked me up. A godlike being coming to the rescue while trying to figure out how to operate the batmobile.) In the actual interaction with the king of dreams, all at once Phantom's power is once again illustrated, along with more allusions to his past.

And after all that, this trickster comes along and just casually as you please exposes the king's yearning for life and grants it in what I can only imagine must be horrifying to watch and hear. This Clockwork TURNED PHANTOM MORTAL, confined him in flesh and bone as he screamed in pain. I just. That the bats were there to witness the suffering, the transformation... only to be left with a weakened, vulnerable, bare god-king stranded after returning their precious Tim back to them-

I'm screaming, this is incredible! All along he continually showed them good will in acts of good faith. And now that he's not so scary and overpowered that their paranoia demands they distrust him... Buckle up, Danny- you're about to get another family. And I am so here for it.

luminanightfall

. #dpxdc#dc x dp#fangs#halfa tim#mild body horror#dp x dc#give fright Knight a vacation#he deals with so much bs#clockwork#clockwork is a dick#eldritch danny#let danny be creepy#dannyxdick friendship#time to relearn how to human#ghost king danny#ghost king phantom#ghost king au

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