Written for Days 13 and 16 for PhannieMay19.

Slick ectoplasm chilled his lips. Tangy, electric, quenching. He rolled his tongue over the flavor, savoring the delight that the ghost brought him. His core pulsed with demand, pushing him further. Even though he was almost full, he still wanted more. He wanted more of this taste, of this euphoric experience.

He wouldn't let himself be done.

The snake was almost expired. He had torn into it easily, letting his fangs do most of the work. Underneath its scales was the metaphorical 'nectar' of the fruit, the tastiest part of the ghost; fluid from the snake's core. He'd learned quickly that animal ghosts were so much different than ordinary blobs because their anatomy was much more complex. He had loved experimenting with the most efficient ways to devour every species.

Nothing was left of the snake. In his ecstatic trance, he'd consumed the rest of its remains. Even his fingers were licked clean, leaving his gloves pristine and white again.

And he was still hungry. He still needed more to quell his grating hunger. He had only just stopped eating and it had already returned, hot-iron poking at his stomach's lining. Hopefully his next prey was another animal; he'd already gotten tired of blob ghosts.

Phantom surrendered himself to the desires of his core, leaving to find another animal ghost. This cuisine may be gross, barbaric, savage - but he was done being ashamed of this. Pleasantries were the reward for doing what felt good, for surviving. He only felt a little guilty that other creatures had to cease existing for his enjoyment, but if the Harvest had taught him anything, it was that feeding was normal. Among ghosts, he was normal. Well, as normal as he could be as a half-ghost.

His stomach was getting hotter and hotter. He needed to stop dwelling on thoughts and find his next prey.

There was a presence somewhere in front of him. He was currently in his bedroom, but he could sense that on the other side of his bedroom wall… there was another ghost. An animal ghost! Something that he could feast into without feeling bad, he could lick and slurp and chew… Without further consideration, he phased through the wall, hungry thoughts making him dizzy. Where was the animal? Where was it?

He spun around, gripping his core (blistering with starvation) and blinking his eyes from the disorienting afternoon sun. Suddenly, his core spasmed in the direction that he sensed the ghost, too desperate (hungry) to even exert his ghost sense. And there he saw it, a ghostly green, furry, four-legged animal that was bigger than a cat but smaller than a dog. It was like one of those beaver type animals, maybe an otter - but also kind of like a duck? Wait… platypus. That was it. He used to think platypi weren't real until Jazz made him watch that nature documentary.

The ghostly platypus was floating dumbly in front of FentonWorks, presumably drawn towards the portal. It was so easy, his food was just wandering in front of him, blind to its impending termination. Taking his chance, Danny lunged, grabbing the placid animal's tail and tearing it off in one fluid motion. The platypus screamed in hopeless anguish, screeching, protesting his assault. The tail softened into goo in Danny's hand, losing most of its form and texture once it had been detached from the platypus's core. He brought his palm to his face, slurping the goo that caressed his glove. The tail was only his first bite, the rest of the dish was yet to be sampled.

As he had done with the snake minutes earlier, Danny lost himself in his gory desires. He paid little mind to the animal's final whimpers of pain as he resumed his feast. Ectoplasm flew everywhere, loosely escaping the platypus's body. Danny didn't even realize that he was making a mess in front of his house, nonetheless his sister's window. All he knew was this pleasure.

Somewhere in Danny's tireless ecstasy, he was interrupted. A nagging exclamation of horror that wasn't his prey's, his name being said over and over. He'd said that he was busy - or at least he tried to speak while he broke the platypus's neck with his teeth. But yet, apparently he wasn't allowed to eat in peace! His starvation was finally relieved, he finally felt good, but interlopers were always going sidetrack him.

Beyond agitated, Danny attempted retreating with his meal. He bundled the broken mass of ectoplasm in his arms, moving to fly away, but something caught his leg. The Jack o' Nine Tails thwarted his escape, wrapping firmly around his ankle. He jerked against the restraint on his leg, hissing and clawing. This was his meal! His prize! No one was going to take it from him!

He wasn't cognizant enough to realize when Jazz stopped tugging on the Jack o' Nine Tails. The next thing he knew, his entire world was numb and gray; the interior of the Fenton Thermos greeted him with an unpleasant familiarity.

The inside of the Thermos was like being detached from all of your senses, even your awareness of time. At first, Danny had thrashed against his confinements - wildly raging against the walls of the Thermos. But as his entrapment continued, stretching on for some length of incomprehensible time, his gluttonous bloodlust sated. His anger, his need, resolved into petty irritation.

He didn't know how long he had been here. This lack of sensation, lack of light and sound and a tangible body was starting to grate against his mind. He needed something, anything, or else he might go-

There was a whirring, and suddenly the Fenton Thermos lurched with force, entangling light and gravity until he was decompressed and he could move again! Sounds of ragged breathing, an influx of color that stressed his eyes, and staticky air welcomed him back into form. He was on his knees now, a cold surface beneath him. From behind a green sheen, three pairs of eyes followed him, watering with unfiltered wariness and judgement.

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker had locked him behind a ghost shield, gawking at him like he was crazy. Why the hell had they done that? He wasn't crazy, he had just been feeding….

Oh, right. They weren't supposed to know about that. And he had gone feral outside of Jazz's window. No wonder they were concerned. He might have made peace with ghost society's acceptance of cannibalism, but his friends were in the dark about his dirty little secret.

"Danny…" Sam spoke. "Wh - what happened?"

He looked up at her from behind the shield. Her lip was curled in a downward frown, slightly quivering. Sam's hair was a mussed mess, her ponytail was lopsided and loose. He had really… scared her, hadn't he? But had his actions scared her, or did he himself scare her?

Danny's legs were starting to go numb from how he was sitting on them, so he moved to sit cross-legged. Out of the corner of his eye he realized that he was entirely drenched in ectoplasm, smeared against his suit like radioactive grease. Clockwork, he looked like shit. He was almost tempted to lick some of the ectoplasm off of himself but thought better of himself.

"Danny... dude?" Tucker asked. His voice cracked, "You're really freaking us out here man."

"So - rry." Danny cleared his throat. He hadn't expected his lungs to ache from the thermos. "Sorry. I uh... lost control, I guess?"

"You guess?" Jazz accused. He noted with sickening realization that she was crying, not bothering to wipe her tears. "Danny, I was trying to study when I heard you tearing that poor thing limb from limb. I couldn't even tell what it was by the time I opened my window! I-" she grabbed a fistful of her pants. "I thought you had this under control! Why didn't you eat the ectoplasm from the lab, why did you let yourself do this!"

She was obviously disturbed, repulsed by him. But she didn't know… didn't know what he knew about how this stuff worked. He had once shared her opinions, believed that feeding was morally wrong - avoided it, ran from it…. Until the Harvest showed him that it wasn't so bad. She didn't know about the Harvest, about what eating felt like. They didn't know.

If he told them, would they see it like he did? If he could only make them understand…. Then he wouldn't have to hide this side of him anymore.

"I let myself do this... because I'm okay with it," he admitted. Jazz recoiled, visibly taken aback. Sam and Tucker tensed up, also failing to register his words.

"Wait…" Jazz put together, "so you didn't…. You chose to do that instead of the artificial ectoplasm? It wasn't just - an accident?"

He felt smaller under her accusation, but managed to respond with clarity. "Yeah… I stopped eating the artificial stuff… about four months ago?"

Tucker took off his beret and stretched his hand over his face, "Why? Why the fuck would you do that?" He appeared troubled and bothered, but predominantly just confused.

Sam, on the other hand, reacted lividly. "What part of killing other ghosts for consumption do you find okay?" she exploded. "The Danny I know would never do that!"

"I have my reasons," he explained, trying to minimize the damage. Her words hurt, but he knew that they wouldn't grasp it at first, he just had to justify his choice. "Instead of the fake stuff, I've been feeding on real ectoplasm instead. I don't get hungry that often, so this is probably only about the fifth time I've done it?"

Sam was impatient. "But why did you start doing that-"

"Well, the first time I was kind of forced into it," he provided.

"No," Jazz shook her head. "I've made sure that we're always stocked with enough ectoplasm for you to eat. There's no time you would've had to resort to that."

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "But I got invited to this like party-ritual thing in the Ghost Zone. I didn't know what it was, but I went since apparently even halfas are welcome there. Turns out it was an initiation for the 'newly dead' to accept eating other ghosts. They gave me this drink… and if I didn't eat ghosts, it would hurt me. So…" Tucker gasped and Sam inhaled sharply, "I did it. And after that, I just couldn't… go back to eating the artificial stuff. Real ectoplasm tastes so much better, feels better." He shut his eyes. "It's indescribable how amazing it is."

There was silence in the lab. The tension tripled over itself, before it finally broke down and blanketed over each of them. Sam was the first to break the ice, headstrong and merciless.

"That's probably the most horrifying and weak thing I've ever heard you say, Daniel Fenton," she hissed.

He opened his eyes and saw that Tucker still had his face covered and that Jazz was shaking her head. "Why?" he asked. "Why is it so wrong?"

Tucker deadpanned, "Dude, it's cannibalism."

Sam growled, fiercely putting her fist against the ghost shield. Unlike Danny had expected, it was solid under her touch; a shield that was ghost and human proof. That was good to know. "And it's the unjust slaughter of sentient beings."

"You're not a killer. That isn't my brother," Jazz added.

"Well, like you and Tucker I'm not exactly a vegetarian," he replied to Jazz. "I'm not going out of my way to hurt animal ghosts just to be sadistic, I only eat when I need-"

"You're not being sadistic?" Jazz raised a brow. She too, exploded. "I saw the way you were dismembering it! I saw the look in your eyes! You didn't even care that it was in pain! You didn't… you didn't have to go that far!"

"It's no different than human food," Danny addressed. "Sam, haven't you done research about how they treat animals they raise for slaughter? How they torture animals until they die? That's accepted in human society, and we never think twice about it. With ghost animals, I… I know it's barbaric and cruel," Danny did little to mask his shame, "but it's not any different than eating a hamburger. Hell, eating ghosts is even more accepted in ghost society; cannibalism is a big part of ghost culture because if you don't eat, you die. Other ghosts don't have 'artificial' ectoplasm as an option."

"But you do have it as an option!" Sam screamed. "Just because society accepts it, it means it's right? Even when you have an alternative option?" Sam scoffed.

"I'm not a social activist. Sam…" Danny sighed. "Ectoplasm tastes good. I don't like artificial ectoplasm. And because I prefer to eat ghosts, even though I know it isn't supposed to be 'right', since society is okay with it, so am I. That's also how I feel about meat."

"I can't agree with that. I've never agreed with how society unjustifiably murders animals for production. Thus, I can't agree with your sick, savage carnage when you have an alternative option!"

Danny sagged. The ectoplasm doused across his suit was getting more tempting to taste, but he put that urge aside for later. "I knew you wouldn't get it. And that's okay. But you can't stop me from feeding - this is my body, my choice."

"And your choice is to kill-!"

"If I have to eat ectoplasm to survive, I am going to at least chose how I eat it! The gross, disgusting shit that Mom and Dad make in the lab, or natural - probably healthier - ectoplasm from other ghosts. Jazz, Tucker - are you with me?"

His sister and other best-friend stiffened. Tucker tried opening his mouth, but no words came out; gaping like a fish. Jazz, on the other hand, averted eye contact and spoke softly, "If there's no changing your mind… I can't stop you. Even if I… don't like what you have to do. I just… even if you do it, I don't want to see it again. Once was enough."

"I'd be a hypocrite if I disagreed with you," Tucker had a faraway look in his eyes. "But that also doesn't mean I want to see it or be involved. Not gonna lie, it's really fucked up."

Danny nodded, "Yeah… I know. But I like it, so I guess I've made peace with that nasty part of me."

Even with his explanation, Sam was hearing none of it. "You guys are going to let him do this?" Sam turned on Jazz and Tucker.

Tucker crossed his arms, "Like she said," he nodded to Jazz, "you think that we'd be able to stop him if we tried?"

"We stopped him today. With the thermos. We can lock him up, confine him until he eats the artificial," Sam brainstormed.

Danny froze in place, would they be able to do that? He was stronger than them, yeah, but if he was hungry enough they'd probably be able to overcome him with less difficulty. And trap him right back inside this shield, hopeless to escape….

Tucker snorted, "And you think we'd be able to do that forever? That's a recipe for disaster, Sam."

He was right. Danny would find ways around it. What had he been thinking? Even if they confined him again, it would only be a matter of time before he managed to feed again, without them around….

Jazz put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "You can't chose other people's choices for them."

Sam smacked Jazz's hand away. "That hasn't stopped me yet," she fumed. She threw one last dirty look in Danny's direction, being petty enough to avoid looking him in the eyes. With the ghost shield behind her, she walked with her chin up, away from Danny's confinement. Her boots sounded like small gunshots as she trod up the lab's stairs.

"That's… not good," Jazz assessed Sam's volatile reaction. "I get why she's upset, but…" She sucked in air through her nose and exhaled sharply, cutting herself off.

In turn, Tucker tried to force a smile. However, his lips only looked thin and crinkled, "I wouldn't sweat her reaction too much," he weakly reassured. "She's uh… been that extreme with me before over food too. She'll get over it."

"Doubt it," Danny groaned. He stood up inside the shield and paced around. "She's right, that I could chose not to do this. But I'm selfish and just want to feel good when I eat. We both know she's right, so she's not going to let it go." Realizing that he was back on a tangent, he turned back to Jazz and Tucker. "I uh… thanks for understanding, though," he acknowledged. "Even though I know you don't like it, I appreciate the effort?"

"Yeah," Jazz reciprocated curtly. Beside her, Tucker nodded.

They all looked at each other for a moment, once again lapsing into uncomfortable silence. Then, Tucker shook himself free of the tension and stepped towards a nearby panel on the wall.

"I guess since you're uh… cool now we don't need the ghost shield?" he fiddled with the control panel. "We didn't know how you'd react when we let you out so we prepared for the worst."

"Good idea," he agreed. "It took me a while to cool off in the thermos. If you let me out earlier, I uh - wouldn't have responded well."

Jazz pursed her lips. "Danny… if you… if you're going to do this, do you think that we should lock you up? Like while you eat?"

He was thrown by her sudden question. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Before she could respond, Tucker pulled a lever and the ghost shield between them shimmered out of existence. There was nothing between the three of them now.

"I know I said I didn't want to be involved, but…" Jazz ran a hand through her hair, "having you go berserk in public like you did today may not be the most… flattering thing for your image. That, and I was able to capture you easily. What if it had been Mom and Dad instead? So what if I help set up the ghost shield for you? So you have a safe space to…"

"... you can say 'kill ghosts'," Danny sighed. "If anything, we've established that today."

"Right, we can set up a ghost shield for when you do do that," she finished. "How do you feel about it?" she asked Tucker.

He flustered for a moment before deciding. "I'd be willing to help as long as I'm out of the room by the time you start eating," Tucker shrugged. "Well, and I'm not cleaning any messes you make," he gestured to Danny's overall appearance. He didn't doubt that some of the ectoplasm was smeared in his hair by now.

"I'll try to take you guys up on that then," Danny agreed. He didn't like the idea of notifying his sister and best-friend about when he felt like feeding on ghosts, but if he had someone to set up a ghost shield for him, it would be a lot safer than just floating out into the street. "I don't know if I'll always be able to remember since the hunger comes quick, but… I'll try."

Another pause, another lag in the conversation. What else was there to say?

"I think I'm going to clean up now," Danny eventually decided, stepping out of the containment area. He made sure to stay in ghost form so that the ectoplasm wouldn't stain his human clothes. Jazz and Tucker moved aside so he could walk past them, staying in the downstairs by themselves for one more moment. Danny smiled to them nervously, knowing that they were staying behind to talk about him privately. He didn't particularly care about what they would say; he'd already heard much of the worse bits from Sam.

Once he had exited the lab, he slipped into the upstairs bathroom and turned on the faucet. He stepped away from the sink and sat on the toilet lid instead, finishing what he had started hours earlier. He positioned his arm in front of his face, licking and sucking the ectoplasm that he had spilled on himself.

His core hummed pleasantly, agreeing that he had made the right choice. Even though he knew this was wrong, it felt so right.