Me? Going absolutely feral on writing for the Phight because I don't have school this week? Surely it can't be? Anyway I've decided to make 50k my goal for now so I gotta do another... 6k or so? So expect to see one or two more fics before the month ends.

Prompt by sylph-feather: "I think it would be interesting to see Danny's phantom form either more monstrous from the get go, or become monstrous in some way, and people's reactions to that"

Danny was hu— no… Yes! He's— Or maybe he just…

His heart was still in his chest, replaced by an alien whirring. His body glowed, a white aura surrounding him, flickering wildly.

Danny was…

His reflection stared at him with wide unblinking eyes. Vivid green. Unnatural green, the color of ectoplasm spilled on the kitchen table.

Danny couldn't be a ghost. He was human. He couldn't be dead, couldn't be a ghost.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt like he was choking.

Ghosts didn't choke. Ghosts didn't breathe. He wasn't a ghost.

Danny closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the mirror. The surface was pleasantly cool.

Just… breathe, Danny. It will all be okay when you open your eyes.

He opened his eyes.

His own face looked back at him, although the eyes were still vibrant green, his hair still white. It was still, undeniably, his own.

But he could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Felt his lungs greedily suck in air as he tried to stop himself from hyperventilating.

"This is fine," he told the off-colored reflection in the mirror. "I'm not dead. I'm— I'm human."

Something stirred in his core. Light flashed, suddenly, washing the entire room away with brightness.

When Danny finally blinked the spots out of his sight again, he saw—

Black hair. Blue eyes.

"Human," he whispered, watching his lips curl into a hesitant smile. "See? I knew it."

He nodded to himself. It was just— just something weird! That kinda stuff happened all the time in FentonWorks. Nothing to be concerned about!

Danny ran a hand through his hair, watching the heavy locks muss up in the mirror. No matter what, he was human. This was just…

Nothing. It was nothing.

He turned to leave the bathroom, smiling at Sam and Tucker when they saw him.

He was perfectly human.

Ghosts were an inevitability if you were raised as a Fenton. Whether you personally believed in them or not didn't matter. They were a fact of life. It was impossible to not know anything about them.

One of the many things Danny had learned, forgotten, and learned again, was what ghosts looked like. They were monsters. You could tell, his parents always told him, because they looked like monsters. Because a ghost's appearance reflected the way they saw themselves.

A ghost's self-image was literal, really.

Danny stared down at the hands in his lap. They were pink, and fleshy, and warm. Detailed to an extent that he couldn't imagine.

Human.

In a flash of light, it could all be gone. Or, not gone, but hidden. Covered up by skintight white gloves.

It wasn't voluntary, not really, but he could control it a little. Could stop himself from shifting around his parents, around Jazz. And thank goodness, because he hadn't… hadn't really figured out if he wanted them to know.

They—he, and Sam and Tucker—had thought it was temporary. But it had been more than a week, and the cold-hot-cold in his chest still hadn't gone away. No, it felt stronger by the day. More present, if hidden behind the sound of his heartbeat.

Not quite as human anymore. But human enough. He was… a little ghostly, maybe, but human first and foremost.

He let the cold in his chest wash over him. Walked over to the full-body mirror he had in his room.

A ghost looked back. But not— not a proper one. Because Danny wasn't really a ghost, no matter what. He was mostly human.

And so was the ghost that looked at him.

It looked like Danny, really. The messed up hair, even if it was white instead of black, pressed down by gravity. The bright eyes, even if they were a little too bright, an unnatural glow emitting from them. And, y'know. Vivid green.

The jumpsuit was just like his parents', but at least it was deep black instead of eye-searing orange. With the white gloves, boots, and belt, it almost looked… well, not decent, but okay. Kinda superhero-y, he supposed.

Not that there was anything superhero-esque about dying in your parents' basement, but…

No! No thinking about that! He wasn't—

Wasn't dead.

A flicker of light drew his eye back to the mirror. To the undoubtedly human ghost. Its glow had brightened, but settled down, now. Almost like… an expression of emotion? Odd. According to his parents, ghosts didn't feel emotions.

But then, he wasn't really a ghost, was he?

He let the cold withdraw into his chest. Watched his hair turn black and his eyes blue. Watched his jumpsuit make way for normal clothes.

Nothing else changed. Because, even as a ghost, he was still human.

He was human.

"Are you sure that keeping this a secret is a good idea, Danny?"

Sam perched on the edge of his bed, and Danny dropped his eyes from the Thermos in his hand to her. "Weren't you against telling my parents?"

"Yeah, but…" She shrugged, throwing a look at Tucker. "It could be dangerous."

"Telling them could be dangerous as well," he pointed out, pointedly shaking the Thermos. "I don't know if my parents could've stopped the Lunch Lady without me. And…" And he might end up in a Thermos as well.

She sighed, then nodded. "As long as you're sure, Danny."

"Well, I thought it was pretty cool!" Tucker leaned back against Danny's desk, grinning at him. "You were like a hero! A half-ghost hero!"

"Half-ghost?" Danny echoed, dubiously. Tasted the word in his mouth. It was… It almost resounded in the ball of energy in his chest. Like it had a physical feel to it, except not physical.

Tucker nodded energetically. "Yeah! You're not a ghost, but you're not fully human either. So a split between the two— half ghost, and half human. Half-ghost!"

"I don't know, Tuck." Danny let his arm fall down, ignoring the way his… the thing in his chest itched, churned, purred, at the concept. "I think that you might be overplaying it a little. Half ghost?"

"Hm. Maybe not, then." Tucker clicked his tongue. "Just a human with ghost powers, maybe?"

"Yeah," Danny agreed, toying with the Thermos in his hand. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Because he was human, first and foremost.

"So…" Tucker started again, slowly. "If you're gonna be doing that sort of thing more often, you should probably come up with a name to use for your alter ego."

Danny huffed out a laugh. "You're just using me as a dumping ground for all your superhero fantasies."

"Guilty as charged!" Tucker chuckled, and Sam did, too.

"He's right, though," Sam admitted, prodding Danny a little. "What if someone sees you as a ghost, and asks who you are? Knowing you, you'll just panic and blurt out your actual name."

"Ugh." Danny pressed himself deeper into his bed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll think about it."

Phantom was the name he ended up settling on. Phantom was… just a ghost. That was the one thing he had going for him. Phantom was just a ghost, a ghostly form of Danny.

And it was Phantom who took down the attacking ghosts. The mindless feral animals, bad caricatures of real creatures.

The occasional intelligent ghost, too. Like the hulking metal Skulker, who was weak and pathetic on closer inspection. Like Sidney Poindexter, who looked like a regular human being except in monochrome. Like Desiree and Ember and many, many others.

It was Phantom who became known as Amity Park's protector. The one ghost they could rely on to fight off the others.

Danny was human, but Phantom was a ghost. Even if they were the same person, no one but Sam and Tucker knew this.

Phantom was a ghost. Danny was too, at least a little, no matter how much he'd tried to deny it.

But that was okay. They were two sides of the same coin. Danny was the human side, and Phantom was the ghost side.

And because Phantom was a ghost, because Danny saw him as a ghost, he looked like one, too.

The changes weren't sudden, of course, not spontaneous. They crept in, slowly. He hadn't realized he was changing Phantom, not until he overheard his parents talking about it.

About how Phantom was becoming more monstrous, a clear display of his inner nature.

Danny… stopped. Almost dropped his bag onto the floor.

Then promptly rushed up, to his room, and locked the door. Tugged on his core, like he'd done so many times, and shifted into Phantom.

A ghost met his eyes.

Its glow was strong, flickering like a candle, in sync with his racing heartbeat. Bright green eyes, like the eyes of a jack-o-lantern, met his gaze. They were the color of ectoplasm. Only the color of ectoplasm. Green from end to end.

He grimaced, and jerked as his reflection did the same. Fangs. Large, sharp, pointed.

Danny carefully ran his tongue over the offending tooth. Yeah, definitely sharp, yikes. And since when was his tongue as Phantom green?

He lifted a hand with the intention to pull his lips up, to look at the rest of his teeth. But his eye caught on his fingers—or, more accurately, the ends of his fingers. The white gloves no longer ended at his fingertips. No, instead they continued into hooked claws that extended from the tips of his fingers.

Carefully, he grabbed one of the claws between the fingers of another hand. Definitely hard, and, ouch, definitely sharp as well.

Looking back at the mirror, Danny met his blank gaze again. One of his ears flicked like an animals, and only now did Danny realize that they were misshapen as well. Overlong and pointed. He grimaced, and watched the ears drop as well. Great! Just what he needed! Ears that responded to his emotional state!

Aggravated, he ran his hands through his hair. Felt the claws scratch along the skin of his head, not once catching on the tangles of his hair.

"Fuck," he told his reflection, and it hissed back. He scratched his cheek, careful not to claw himself. "I should've— Man, I guess I should've fucking expected this."

And that was the worst thing about this, wasn't it? Because he really should've expected this. He'd known for how long that a ghost's appearance was based on their self-perception?

Phantom had looked human because that's what Danny was. And Phantom was Danny.

But over the last few months, he had stopped being Danny. Phantom had become, well, Phantom. The ghostly protector of Amity Park.

Danny rolled his neck, flexed his fingers. Tried to flick his ear, but failed. Tried snarling at his reflection.

This was certainly a ghost, yes, but not much of a protector. Maybe he'd been more stuck on his parents' tales of ghosts than he thought. Ghosts were monsters, he'd always been told, but… but were they really?

The Dairy King hadn't been. Cujo hadn't meant ill, either. Sidney had been hurt, and Johnny and Kitty had just wanted some fun, and Wulf hadn't even done anything wrong!

He shook his head, watched the locks linger in the air for just a touch too long to be natural. Well… So be it. He was a ghost, he was allowed to be a bit ghostly. It would make it harder for people to connect Phantom with Danny, wouldn't it?

Phantom was a ghost, but he was no monster. That would have to be enough.

If Sam and Tucker hadn't noticed yet… Well, it couldn't be all that important, could it? He could hold off on telling them about all this until they asked.

Danny turned away from the mirror again, shifting back to his human form.

And if his skin seemed just a little pinker, just a little healthier, after shifting… Well, that just a trick of the mind, wasn't it?

Phantom was a monster.

It was all Danny could think of. The sight of Phantom, massive and entirely ghost, surrounded by flames. Surrounded by destruction the ghost had caused.

Phantom was a monster, and Danny's humanity was the only thing holding it back. Because Phantom was him. Because, as long as he was still him, Phantom was human enough.

Danny let his transformation wash over him, not looking at himself in the mirror. Not yet.

Instead he started peeling off his gloves. Carefully unbuckled his boots. Dropped the belt. Unzipped his jumpsuit until it hung slack around his hips.

Only then did he look at himself in the mirror.

Empty green eyes, emotion almost impossible to read. White hair. Long pointed ears that drooped downwards, upset. A scowl on his face, lips curled far enough to reveal the fangs underneath.

A massive injury—scar—something scrawled over his chest, his arm, his side. It was, somehow, simultaneously dulled and healed, and vivid green like a fresh injury.

He flexed his left hand, a mess of green scars and blackened flesh, only broken up by the white claws. Twisted his arm to see the injury branch its way up his arm, jagged and spiked like lightning. It lessened the closer to his body it got, before leading into the massive scar on his chest.

It looked so fresh, so brand new, that Danny could feel the phantom pains emanate from it. Could feel— lightning, cold-hot-cold-hot, like every nerve was on fire and frozen solid.

At its very center, the injury was slick, shimmering almost like liquid. Green like freshly spilled ectoplasm. So soft, so transparent, that Danny could see the glow of his core through it.

Other branches from the lightning-like scar sprawled down over his side, over his shoulders onto his back, and even onto his neck. Danny made a face as he inspected that branch, which stopped just low enough for his jumpsuit to cover it.

At least the more scar-like parts of it faded away against his skin. The injuries were dull green, yes, but his skin had definitely changed tone. No longer was it pink and warm, but it wasn't… wasn't teal like Dan's, either. Just… pale, and cool.

Danny watched his reflection, holding still. Watched his core pulse in his chest, and realized…

Realized that he couldn't feel his heart pounding. His reflection didn't blink— Danny didn't blink.

His breath caught in his chest, and he held it. Held it almost indefinitely.

Phantom was a monster, only held back by Danny's humanity, and… and he was losing it. Losing said humanity.

A knock on the door. Danny startled, flinching so hard that he lifted off of the ground. He had—

He hadn't locked the door, apparently, because it swung open.

"Danny?" Sam asked, blinking wide eyes at him. "Wow, uh, you're… shirtless."

"Oh my god," he whispered, dropping limply onto the ground. His core churned so loudly he was sure Sam could hear it. "You scared me to death."

"I think it was too late for that already, dude." Tucker shoved Sam further into the room, also coming in. "Wow, what's up with those scars? And, uh…"

Tucker trailed off, then fell silent.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, voice muffled by the floor. "That."

"What happened?" Sam asked, wandering closer. She paused. "This is… This looks like it was caused by the accident…"

Danny hummed wordlessly.

"But you didn't have these scars before," Tucker pointed out, also walking up to Danny. "And your skin… Danny, what's happening?"

He laughed. It wasn't a good kind of laughter. "Don't you know that a ghost's appearance is based on self-perception? So if you think that all ghosts are monsters…"

"Dan," Sam gasped. "But you don't look like…"

"It's been happening for longer." Danny braced himself on an arm, pushing himself up slightly to look at her. To meet her eyes. "Slowly but surely. Ever since I started seeing Phantom as a ghost…"

"Wow." Tucker flicked Danny's ear, laughing when it twitched in response. "Dude, how did we not notice this? I mean, I know you do a lot of solo patrols, but…"

He shrugged slightly. "I didn't want to mention it, not until either of you said anything about it. It's… not a big deal."

"You're literally seeing yourself as a monster to the extent where you're starting to look like one, too," Sam pointed out and, ouch. No need to be so vicious about it. "Danny, that's a huge deal."

"Nah," he denied, shaking his head. His hair fluttered freely, the locks continuing to shift unnaturally. His claws dug into the floor as his fingers twitched. "It's… fine. Just part of being a ghost."

"Yeah, but most ghosts aren't told 24/7 that all ghosts are monsters." Sam crouched next to him, one hand cautiously batting a lock of floating hair. "Danny, you don't have to pretend that this isn't upsetting you."

He sighed, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His feet were unscarred but off-colored, the nails just a little too pointed. Why had he even taken off his boots if he wasn't planning on taking his pants off?

"It's just… It wasn't all that big of a deal, before. If Phantom was a little more ghostly than before, well… that was right, wasn't it? Phantom was supposed to be a ghost." He shrugged. "And it would make him more different from me. From human me. But then…"

"But then Dan happened," Tucker finished, sitting down next to him. He was a comforting warmth against Danny's side. "And now it's all messed up."

"Yeah," he agreed gustily. "Yeah, that's exactly it. I didn't mind Phantom being a ghost, but now… now I know that all that's holding him back is my humanity."

Sam continued to play with his hair, flicking locks of his hair until they all floated freely. "It's not all on you, Danny. That wasn't just Phantom, was it? It was Plasmius too."

"But Phantom was the one who ripped Plasmius out, who fused with him."

"According to Vlad." Tucker nudged him. "According to Vlad, that's what happened. No offense, dude, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, and that's not very far. How can you be sure that he told you the truth?"

"I…" He swallowed. His throat felt dry and constricted all of a sudden. He was glad that he didn't need to breathe as a ghost anymore. "I guess I can't know."

"So stop worrying about it." Sam crowded up next to him as well, warm against his other side. "You're Danny Fenton, and you're Phantom. Half human, and half ghost. Protector of Amity Park."

"But what if—"

"If you ever go too far," Tucker interrupted. "If you ever become too much of a ghost, we'll be there. We're a team, Danny. We're your friends."

His core hiccuped in his chest, the light visible through his chest. "I—"

"If that's not an agreement I don't want to hear it," Sam said, sharply, but not unkindly. "Seriously, Danny. You're allowed to not be okay, and you're allowed to accept help. You don't have to do this alone."

"Yeah, I…" He looked up at the mirror. A ghost looked back, bright and lively green eyes and white hair which flickered like a flame, a vivid scar running over its arm and chest. On either side were humans crowded against it, their skin tones so warm compared to the ghost's.

"I'm a ghost," he said, slowly but resolutely. "And… that's okay. Ghosts aren't… aren't inherently bad. And if Dora isn't automatically bad, and Cujo, and all those others… neither am I."

He grinned, and his reflection grinned back. Sharp fangs and all.

"There you go, dude!" Tucker smiled as well, nudging him again. "Now self-percept yourself some muscles because this is just sad, Danny."

"Wow!" He gasped dramatically, planting his right hand against his chest, fingers splayed wide enough to curve the claws away from the injury. "At least I'm actually physically active!"

Tucker clicked his tongue, shook his head. "Now that's just hurtful, man."

"You started it, Tuck," Sam pointed out, reached past Danny to swat at Tucker. "Now, Danny, any other serious things we need to know about?"

He opened his mouth to tell her no, but paused. Listened to the quiet whirring in his chest.

"Actually…" He licked his lips, a quick flash of green. "I guess I kind of… might also influence my bodily functions with my self-image?"

She stared at him, incredulous.

"Are you telling me that you've barely been blinking because you're too ghostly to do that?" Tucker demanded from Danny's other side. "Dude!"

"My heart also kind of stopped beating?" Danny grinned, awkwardly. "And I don't think I've been breathing, either."

Tucker laughed, startled, then pressed his head against Danny's shoulder. "Why are you like this?"

"I blame my parents." Danny shrugged his free shoulder. "They've been going on and on about Phantom's changing appearance, and, y'know, the workings of ghosts. They don't have any organs, or bodily functions or anything, so I guess I just… automatically stopped with all that, too."

"Well, I guess that that's fair." Sam made a thoughtful noise. "That's not gonna carry over to your human form, will it?"

"Uh…" He blinked, frowned. "I mean, maybe? It hasn't before, but I've also been trying very hard to keep human and ghost separate, so…"

"That can't be good for you." She pressed closer against him, too. "Danny, you're allowed to be half-ghost, you know? You're not entirely human, and not entirely ghost, and that's okay."

He sighed, gustily, and nodded. "Yeah, I… I should stop doing that." If he let his ghost be more human, that'd be… Phantom would be more human. He wouldn't be—couldn't be—Dan.

"We'll be keeping an eye out, now, so don't think about trying to not do it." Tucker rolled his head around so he could meet Danny's eye without lifting his head. "And, dude? I'm serious, you should conjure up some more muscle for yourself."

"Tucker."

"Don't you get it?!" Valerie ranted, her arms waving wildly as Danny picked away at his lunch. "Phantom is getting more and more monster-like in appearance! That's a direct link to personality!"

He rolled his eyes, lifting up his sandwich to take a bite. "Valerie, my parents are talking about that stuff all. The. Time. Trust me, I know."

"But he's…" she trailed off, falling silent. "Danny?"

Why. He had literally just taken a bite. "Hm?"

"You—" She huffed, suddenly, dropping down on the bench attached to their lunch table. She stared at him. Didn't say a word as he slowly chewed on the bite in his mouth.

He swallowed it. "What?"

"Are you aware of the fact that your teeth are, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Enormous fangs?"

Well, fuck. "Ha, well. Ecto-contamination, am I right?"

"Your eyes are glowing."

"Ecto—"

"Your ears are large, pointed, and just flattened down."

"No they didn't!" he countered, because he knew they wouldn't have. Maybe in his ghost form, but he tried very hard to repress that in human form!

"Ha! You didn't deny the oversize ears even though you don't have them!" She grinned victoriously, but the smile dropped almost instantly as she leaned over the table. Valerie's fist closed around his shirt, dragging him closer until their faces were almost touching. "You fucking idiot."

"What?" he blurted out. "What did I even do?"

She stared at him, incredulously. Let go of his shirt and dropped back onto her seat. "How on Earth have you kept the fact that you're Phantom a secret for so long?"

"Well, you know." He shrugged, vaguely. Scratched his cheek with his too-long, too-sharp nails. His heart rate had spiked, almost up to a healthy human speed. "Most people don't think a ghost can be a human too, and definitely not the ghost hunters' son."

"But you're…"

"Danny," he finished for her, before she could come to the wrong conclusion. "I'm Danny Fenton. I've always been Danny Fenton. I just… had an accident. Became half-ghost." He grinned sheepishly. "Started calling my ghost half Phantom, and then kind of accidentally shaped its appearance based on how I saw ghosts."

"Like a monster," Valerie realized, eyes wide. "God, Danny, that's…"

She didn't finish her sentence.

"Yeah," he agreed anyway. "I know right?"

"Does anyone else know, at least?" She ran a hand through her hair, looking like all wind had gone from her sails. "Or have you been going through this all alone? I mean, your parents—"

"They definitely don't know." He huffed. His heart slowed down again, and he blinked, deliberately. "Sam and Tucker know. Knew from the start, they were there when it happened. Jazz knows, but she only told me recently."

He fell silent. Valerie waited for a long moment. "That's it?"

"That's it," he confirmed.

"Well. That's some shit, Danny."

He laughed, startled. "You don't know the half of it!"

"You— Was that a pun?" She groaned, loud and exaggerated. "I should've known. No one else in this town loves puns like you and Phantom. Should've figured that you were one and the same."

His core chirped, whirring up into a pleased purr. "That's all on you, I'm afraid."

"I'll get you for this, Fenton," she warned him. The grin on her face didn't fall. Stayed joyous and hopeful and teasing. "Keep your ghostly unblinking eyes peeled, or you'll never see it coming."

Danny took a deep breath of air, deliberate and slow. He was in his ghost form, so it wasn't exactly necessary. Hell, even in his human form breathing was of debatable importance.

Sometimes it scared him, how ghostly he had become.

He sighed out the air, dropping his eyes down. There, in front of him, laid a vast expanse of water.

Or, well. It really wasn't all that vast. It was just a small lake in the park. But let him be dramatic sometimes, dammit!

The surface was still, reflective like a mirror. It was dark, yes, but Danny's eyesight was crazy good these days, even in the dark.

He smiled at his reflection, waved a hand. White-gloved and tipped with fearsome claws, a smaller curve covered with jagged but clear ice. The light of the moon caught in its many reflective surfaces, shining onto his black jumpsuit, his white flickering hair, his horns.

Danny combed a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding the horns. They were growing quickly, curving blades of ice. They reminded him of Frostbite.

Actually… He bit his lip. That was probably what had caused them, wasn't it? Frostbite and his people?

Phantom was a ghostly protector, but for most of Phantom's existence, Danny hadn't known what that looked like. He'd shaped his form based on… on hatred, on visions of monsters, on nightmares.

But Frostbite… Frostbite was a guardian. He and his people, they protected their domain, their artifacts. They were ghostly protectors long before Danny had been.

They had taught him about his powers, too. About their shared power over ice.

It wasn't all that surprising, then, that Danny had automatically copied traits from them for his own ghost form. And, all things considered, claws and horns of ice weren't the worst thing he could've gone with.

Hell, he could've gone all hairy! Or a tail! His spectral tail was enough for him, thank you very much!

He shifted until he laid flat on his belly, floating a little above the water. Gently swirled one finger through the water, breaking his makeshift mirror. Despite their appearance, his claws weren't cold like ice; the water barely cooled, and remained unfrozen.

That, at least, had been deliberate. Danny, even in his ghost form, touched people surprisingly often. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, hell, even Valerie hung out with him in his ghost form regularly. And he grabbed onto random people all the time during ghost fights, to drag them out of the way of an attack or to free them from debris they'd gotten trapped in.

It was the one thing about his ghost form that didn't quite match up with proper ghosts. Despite his ice powers, Danny remained warm. Not human warm, but not disturbingly cold, either.

The last thing he wanted was for someone to flinch into the danger he was trying to get them away from.

He smiled, weakly, letting just the slightest bit of cold energy leak from his finger. Ice trailed after his finger, now, forming swirling patterns on the water. Curls and twirls and elegant curves, paper thin.

Grass rustled, and Danny's eyes snapped up to the lake's coast. There, clear as day, were the Fentons. Both had their goggles down—had they integrated night-vision into those? They must've, to be out here at this time of night.

"Phantom," Jack growled—because he was Jack, now, not Dad—raising an ecto-gun. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing to worry about," Danny replied, rolling his eyes. He waved his hand through the water, breaking up the ice, letting it melt away again. "Looking at my reflection, creating art, y'know?"

Maddie snorted disbelievingly. "Worried about people figuring you out, Phantom?"

"Figuring out what?" He huffed, righting his position so he floated upright. "That I have ice powers? That I'm strong, and a competent ghost hunter?"

"That you're not human," she sneered back. "That you're losing that little humanity you might've had. That you're finally showing your true side."

"Oh, please." He shook his head, flapping a dismissive hand. "I'm no less human than I was when I first appeared. But you're clearly not going to listen to me, and I've got better things to do, so."

He turned himself invisible, lifting up. Their eyes tracked him, confirming his suspicions that they had some sort of infrared in their goggles, too.

Well, no point in sticking around. He probably should've gone to bed instead of coming to the park, anyway.

As he left, he could hear the sound of a gun discharging. But not, like, fire a shot discharging. No, like someone had stopped charging it altogether.

Danny strained his ears towards his parents, even as he flew away. And it was just, just enough, to overhear their quiet muttering.

"He's getting too cocky," his mom said.

"He knows how strong he's getting, yeah," his dad agreed. "He's dangerous, and he knows it."

"And nobody realizes. They all see his continued good behavior, and no one sees the literal proof of him becoming a monster."

Danny bit his lip, swiveling his ears away. Whatever else they were going to say, he didn't want to hear.

He wasn't becoming a monster.

He had been one for years.

Phantom was… Danny.

And Danny was…

People cheered as he dove low over the crowd. As he fired blast after blast into the chimeric animal ghost that attacked them, its heads snapping at bystanders.

Danny pushed for just a little bit more speed, his legs blending together into a spectral tail. Slammed into the ghost, dug his claws into its side, and dragged it up—up, and away from the people.

He released it, the ghost disoriented for a brief moment. Brief, but just long enough.

The blue vortex of the Thermos trapped it, warped it, caught it.

Danny capped the Thermos again, floating above the crowd of Amity Park's citizens. Clicked the Thermos back onto his belt, his claws clicking against the metal. His tail curled, almost anxiously, as he looked over the gathered people.

And they—

They cheered for him, still. Despite everything that had changed, despite the—claws, fangs, eyes, skin, scars, horns, inhuman inhuman inHUMAN—they still celebrated him. Celebrated his victories, yelled positive reinforcement and thanks and love at him.

He felt it deep inside him, in his very core. It rumbled, powerful and loud, purring like a cat. He glowed, pleased, bright as the sun.

And Amity Park still yelled for him, still cheered for him. They called him their ghostly protector, their— their ghostly angel.

It felt like— like pure power. Coursing through his core, through his body. From his horns through his twisted scars all the way to his claws. Through his fangs and his green flesh and his inhumanly pale skin.

It was like drowning. Like drowning in positivity, in goodness, in… in love.

He was their ghostly protector, and they called him their ghostly angel. And that… That was…

Angels weren't human. And neither was he.

And that was okay.

On a note mostly unrelated to this fic, this is actually number 8 of my Phic Phight works! Number 7 is a Twitter fic and had some... formatting issues... when I tried to upload it here. And also it had emojis and I'm fairly sure FFN doesn't support those, so... If you want a lil extra fluff and banter after this one, you can head over to my AO3 (archiveofourown / users / darknymfa) and give "Of Tweets and Twats" a read!