3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)
1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified
2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores
3). Protocore Jason AU
Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.
Enjoy:)
This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.
~~~~~~
Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.
He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.
"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."
Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.
The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.
"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"
The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.
"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."
Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?
"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.
"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"
"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"
"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"
"-Damian come here you little shit-"
Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.
And that was that.
Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.
"You stole my rock!"
By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.
~~~~~~
Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.
He was losing his carefully crafted abs.
He was getting soft.
Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.
It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.
Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.
He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.
As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.
It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.
It was infuriating.
He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.
Was he overreacting? Probably.
But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.
On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.
With that supply out, he was.
Well.
He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.
But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.
Jason hadn't been able to find him since.
The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.
The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.
"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."
The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.
Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.
"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."
Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.
"...You know? Know what?"
"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."
Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.
"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.
"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"
Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.
The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.
He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.
"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.
It was time to do adult things.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"
"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"
"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."
~~~~~~
Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.
As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.
Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.
Jason.
Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.
Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.
Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.
He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.
As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.
The dysphoria was...bad.
There were no more mirrors in the apartment.
The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.
It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.
He was, essentially, useless.
If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.
Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.
Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.
Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.
He hated it.
But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.
Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.
That should have been a weight off his shoulders.
But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.
He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.
"I'm calling B."
"Tim, no, we can-"
"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"
Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.
"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."
~~~~~~
Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.
The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.
Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.
The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.
"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"
"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."
"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.
"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"
Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.
"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."
"Like a bird? That's adora-"
"-Shut up Dick not now!"
"You shut up!"
"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.
He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.
He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.
~~~~~~
Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.
That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.
Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.
At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.
The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.
Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.
"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."
"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.
Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.
"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.
Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.
Everyone stared at Tim.
Tim shrugged.
"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."
"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.
"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"
"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.
"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.
"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"
"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.
~~~~~~
Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.
Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.
Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.
Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.
"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.
"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."
Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.
"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.
Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.
"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.
"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.
"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."
That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.
"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.
"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.
Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him.
"I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."
~~~~~~
Jason was disgusting.
Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.
It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.
He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.
Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.
Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.
So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.
He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-
-and pissed himself.
Or, it felt like he did.
The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.
Then the contractions really hit.
~~~~~~
Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.
Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.
He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.
Alfred he allowed to stay, though.
~~~~~~
Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.
He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.
So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.
The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
Ah.
Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.
This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.
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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.
He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.
And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.
And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.
Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.
Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."
There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.
It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.
Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.
At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.
"Do you like to do anything?"
Nothing. Just silence.
Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.
Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.
Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.
And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.
He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.
Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.
So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.
"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"
"Don't."
He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.
Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"
"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."
It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"
The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."
Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."
And they fall back into silence.
Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."
He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.
(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)
At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.
Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.
("Tucker told me once--")
("Tucker?")
("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")
(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)
(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)
It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."
The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."
The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.
When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.
Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."
When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.
Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.
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