Chapter Text
The first thing that Danny noticed was that his retainers didn’t quite fit like they used to.
They were snug. Uneven. He popped them out with some difficulty and frowned at the warped metal and plastic in his hand. He leaned in close to the mirror to inspect his teeth.
Fangs.
He had fangs.
Right there, on the top row, just outside of his canines. What were those called?
A bit excited now, Danny pulled out his phone to do a quick search.
Biscuspid! My bicuspids are pointed! My canines too! Holy crap!
He leaned in close, one hand braced on the counter and the other reaching up to spread his mouth wider, zeroing in on the small points that had started to form.
Danny pulled his lower lip down to examine the bottom row, baring his teeth, eyes lighting on subtle angles that formed to mirror those on the top. His eyes were wide, eyebrows high on his forehead and mouth pulled into a bigger smile than he’d seen on his face in a while.
While to some, for instance, the average sixteen year old, acquiring fangs on the first weekend of October was something very, very weird and a little exciting. Danny was not your average sixteen year old. He was, however, very very excited.
Naturally, the first thing he did was pull up The Group Chat ™ and snap a photo for his friends.
A minute or so passed before his phone started to rattle on the counter, a shaky buzz he was quick to pick up before it could wake the whole house.
“Um… hello?” He answered, the smile evident in his voice.
“Hello? Hello?! That’s all you can say?!” Tucker exclaimed, nearly shouting into the phone, loud enough that Danny had to pull it from his ear with a grin on his face.
“What ever do you mean?”
Tucker made a sort of exasperated sputtering sound that left Danny cackling.
The phone buzzed again in his hand and Danny connected the two calls.
“Um, hello?!” Sam said, her pitch matching Tuckers, shocked and confused but excited all the same.
“Hello!”
“Hi Sam,” Tucker said, sounding for all the world like he wanted to hang up and roll right back into bed, sick of their shenanigans.
“Danny, literally what am I looking at here?”
“My teefs!” Danny replied, leaning forward to look at them again.
“Your teefs?”
“Why are your teefs like that Danny?”
“Dont ask me!” He said, almost giddy with excitement, “They’re cool right?”
A deep, heavy sigh had Danny laughing again.
“We're coming over.”
“Try not to stab yourself before we get there.”
Danny pulled the pad of his finger back from his tooth, Sam’s reprimand perfectly timed as always.
His friends arrived, bright and early on a Saturday morning to stare into Danny’s open mouth and contemplate if he’d be able to bite through leather. They decided that was more a question of jaw strength rather than tearing ability and determined they would have to run some tests. Like that wasn’t weird or anything.
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The next thing he noticed was when his ears took on a small point. Danny only realized after they had been aching for a few days and Jazz gave him a particularly painful flick to the ear.
In ghost form they were glaringly obvious, extended by at least an inch or two and angling themselves to fan out from the side of his head. In human form, thankfully, they didn’t stick out, but they did creep up into visible peaks over a couple weeks. Danny just took to flattening his hair down around them. And his friends gathered again to stare in awe, running gentle fingers along the edges. They speculated wildly and wondered if he’d be able to hear further or softer or even on a different wavelength eventually.
Danny mostly wanted to know how this would affect his plans for an industrial piercing.
His teeth were sharper now, a little longer, and they took two week progress photos. He noticed that his lateral incisors (the teeth next to the front teeth) were changing when he bit his fork a little too hard during lunch. Trying to convince himself that the crunch he felt between his molars was just random chunks of mystery meat was a lost cause. He spit the loose pieces into his palm, bewildered and then horrified at the thought that he’d actually chipped his teeth. Four of his teeth.
Almost half of his mouth was obviously pointed now and Danny took to speaking even less than he already did, head angled down or a lazy hand laid over his lips when he was required to talk. He did delight in sending Dash a fang filled smirk after taking a fist to the jaw, something that didn’t help his image of freak but did get the bully to back off for a while.
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The third change Danny noticed was a splitting headache over the course of a few days. Soon enough, the headache fell away and left two small lumps protruding from the crown of his forehead. He wanted to pass them off as particularly misplaced pimples, but nope, no, no such luck. Within a day, small black horns were poking their way up through his flesh, breaking skin. Danny woke with blood dripping into his eyes.
Just a trickle, nothing major, but shocking to say the least.
He called up Sam and Tucker, feeling slightly more insecure on this go round, but eased and relieved by the soothing reassurances of his friends.
And then, again, he was excited.
They trimmed his hair, just a bit, enough to add volume to his bangs and disguise the horns ( horns !) that found a place on his hairline. And they discussed and planned and ultimately decided that although there was concern over having multiple nonhuman qualities, it wasn’t worth lingering on. After all, Vlad looked perfectly human despite his terrible creepy ghost form and general vibes. They figured he would even out eventually.
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When his fingernails started to turn black and blue, Danny chalked it up to getting his hands - and arms, and body - crushed underneath a car the day before. He knew it was going to happen. Wouldn’t be the first time. So he painted over them with black nail polish for a more even color distribution and waited for them to fall off.
They didn’t.
Instead, a second set of nails began to grow beneath the first, pushing the top layer up and out over a very painful week. Those grew in black too, and Danny waited, expecting that this set was dead as well, expecting that they would fall off. They sported a rough and uneven surface with jagged edges that reformed overnight when trimmed.
Sam and Tucker helped him file them smooth everyday.
Jazz said she thought that painted nails were a good look for him. Danny couldn't bring himself to tell her what was actually going on.
The group energy wasn’t quite as excited as it was about his previous changes. This had them cringing and frowning, had his friends casting each other concerned glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. This had Danny stuffing his hands in his pockets, and the ever increasing length of his ears and horns had beanies fastened securely and hoods tossed over his head.
And his teeth, well…
He’s had a ‘sore throat’ for a week now.