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#ectoberweek2022
sumiink · 1 year
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Ectoberweek day 27 - Soul Shredder: "He looked human. But then, most monsters do."
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sykloni · 1 year
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Ectober 2022
28. Scream
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13thdoodle · 1 year
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[ Ectoberweek 2022 Day 26 : Six Feet ]
Beneath the portal's glow, three things become apparent to Maddie. One, she was right about her kids not being alive anymore Two, that she was wrong about the number of kids. And three, that... she was wrong about which one it was.
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Based of the obituary prompt on day 26 " Maddie had to face the facts: one of her kids was dead, now—a ghost, a monster—and it was her duty to destroy it before it killed the rest of her family. But first, she needed to figure out which one of the kids was dead. "
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This is.. kind of AU with my OC, 31, who is a Danny clone and got adopted by the Fentons. The initial idea was that only 31 and Danny were the ghosts and Jazz is human. But then the idea discussion turns into "what if Maddie (and Jack) still dissect Danny but he's the only human one among the three of kids?" :3c
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the-random-phan · 1 year
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Ectober Week Day 31- "They say there's no such thing as the monster under the bed, but are you sure? ...Did you check?"
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lexosaurus · 1 year
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Ectoberweek 2022
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(Art credit to @q-gorgeous/@k-beckerart)
Tragedy struck Amity Park. The last week of the spooky season, seven one-word prompts are to be buried, and their obituaries printed and distributed across the city.
Each grave marks a story, a piece of art, a video, a poem, something that needs to be shown, needs to be told. And we ask you—writers, artists, and creatives alike—to be the ones to tell those stories.
For this year's Ectoberweek, you are provided a list of a one-word prompts and a list of two sentence horror stories. You can choose to base your creation off of one or both of these prompts each day.
All content directly related to the Danny Phantom cartoon is acceptable for this challenge. Ships, non-ships, crossovers, angst, fluff, classic art, digital art—so long as it relates to the show, how you choose to represent these prompts is entirely up to you.
Tag your work with #ectoberweek2022 so @ecto-american and I can see it. We are so excited to see the different art, fics, and other creative endeavors that people will take, and we sincerely hope you all have fun with the prompts this year!
Update: We now have a @ectoberweekofficial blog! Be sure to give it a follow!
Happy Halloween! 👻🎃
(prompts are listed out under the cut)
25. Forest He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried
26. Six Feet Maddie had to face the facts: one of her kids was dead, now—a ghost, a monster—and it was her duty to destroy it before it killed the rest of her family. But first, she needed to figure out which one of the kids was dead.
27. Soul Shredder He looked human. But then, most monsters do.
28. Scream “Pssst, you’re dead. Pass it on.”
29. Lobotomy Amorpho really liked her face. So he took it.
30. Shiver She traced her fingers along the forgotten metal table. Despite the revelations that had come to light, she’d do it all again.
31. Folk Tales They say there's no such thing as the monster under the bed, but are you sure? ...Did you check?
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Be sure to check out the @ectoberhaunt Month Long Calendar if you want more spooky prompts this month!
If you'd like a nifty way to keep track of your completion of both Ectoberhaunt and Ectoberweek, here's a handy dandy spreadsheet made by @ajitated!
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jackdaw-sprite · 1 year
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Ectoberhaunt 22, Day 25 - Forest
A spirit world AU Danny, sitting in a forest and missing home :) Based (a little) off my minibang fic, Mare. In that context, this is a bit how I visualize the deepest layer of the spirit world we see in that fic: a forest full of trees so large that it's almost like being in a cathedral.
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bongo-clash · 1 year
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To Seem Like the Green Light (Burned Out)
Ectober week prompt: Soul Shredder
'The Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms sure is familiar with fear for someone who does not hold it within their domain. Fright Knight decides it’s time for a talk.'
(No content warnings || fic under cut!!)
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Fright Knight, if he’s being honest, does not understand his new ward in the slightest. 
As the Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, the boy is absurdly powerful. He had to be, to have defeated Pariah Dark- a ghost so fearsome it took an entire gathering of the Ancient Ghosts to seal him the first time- and to have beaten him with only his determination and a suit far too large for him, built by his human father. He’d heard of the boy’s abilities in extent amongst his allies in the Zone: his ice, his ectoblasts, his wail. Unbreakable, unstoppable, dimension-shaking. Yes, Prince Phantom was powerful indeed.
But it’s so hard to connect the image of him to this reputation that precedes him so. Because Phantom wears a too-big crown and a too-big cape and a ring that slips off his fingers, and if he looks anything it’s this: small, and skittish. 
And scared. 
Fright Knight knows a lot about that. 
Fear is his domain, after all; it calls to him like a siren song calls to sailors on the open ocean. The taste of it is all allure- dread like a sweet wine, terror strong and honeying- he lives beyond living for it, just as he lives beyond living to serve the Realms’ Keeper, sacred and gratifying as such a duty is. Fear is his greatest delight- but this fear is his liege’s, and it is… sour. Sour to be exposed to, sour against the reach of his senses, the boy’s extending aura. Sour, perhaps, because the boy is royalty won in combat and powerful beyond belief, but he is still a boy. Younger still as a ghost than he is as a human. 
Impossibly large shoes to fill, and an overflowing well of mistakes to rectify that he hasn’t even existed long enough to have witnessed in the first place. 
Fourteen. His core isn’t even a year old, he’s a child. 
Fright Knight may relish in the terror of his opposition, but this boy is not his enemy, and this fear should not have to exist. And if there’s something he can do to abate it- well, that’s only his duty, as the Crown Prince’s most loyal knight. 
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It’s not often that he finds himself in the human world, but the King’s Keep is thrumming with anxiety, and lairs are bound to their keepers in a way few things are, an indicator of the state of their hosts. The moment he takes stock of the shift, Fright Knight is making his way towards the artificial portal the Prince’s human parents created, looking for the disturbance in the Zone’s atmosphere and finding it soon enough. 
From there, all it takes is a few seconds of intangibility upwards, and he finds himself in the room of the Prince. The Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, in his human form, hunched over in bed with a blanket curled around him, expression exhausted but equally sleepless. 
“I sensed trouble within your Keep, Prince Phantom.” He says simply. 
The boy startles slightly, as if he hadn’t even noticed Fright Knight was there. “Ah- I, uh, hey- hi? Wait, did you say trouble?”
“The Keep reflects its Keeper,” Fright Knight explains, not unkindly. “Your Keep is not in trouble; it seemed as if you were, my liege.”
“Oh,” Phantom breathes, shoulders unwinding from where they’d begun to climb towards his ears, less from a total relief and more from a weariness. As if to prove it, his shoulders do not stop once they’ve receded, drawing further and further into himself as if intending to disappear. “Oh, sorry. I’m not- I’m not in any trouble, or anything. Sorry if you thought something was going on.”
Fright Knight has not had a ward beyond Pariah for a long, long time, but even then, they were never so young- either when alive or dead. They tended to be well beyond childhood before their death (if they were ever alive at all), and their cores fully formed for decades, centuries prior to taking the mantle. Not for the first time, he wonders how it can possibly be seen reasonable, fair to push a responsibility meant for immortals who have tasted that immortality on a child who hasn’t even had his first death day. 
But Fright Knight doesn’t control what’s fair, and he doesn’t control how the Keep chooses its holder. He can only control what he does in this moment. “But there is something going on. You’re afraid.” 
Whatever thoughts had been turning over behind Phantom’s expression pause at the statement, face all at once becoming bewildered, overwhelmed with the unexpected. He looks like someone with a weapon pointed between their eyes; a realisation, and a cautiousness trying not to reveal a dread. 
“Right, yeah, you sense that stuff- you’re the Fright Knight- how did I forget? I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that; I’ll be better about it! I swear you won’t have to deal with this or anything, it was just…”
Oh. He looks like someone with a weapon pointed between their eyes because he thinks Fright Knight is going to draw his. He acted wildly and without a thought when he was freed by the boy some months ago, seeking his Soul Shredder, and likely cemented no assuring reputation when fighting under Pariah. He is not a spirit that tends to dwell on his regrets, but privately, he winces at the reminder. There are very few ways to apologise for such a dismal first encounter in any meaningful fashion; there may be very little point in apologising at all, at least not in this moment.
Instead, he simply lowers himself to the ground, feet meeting carpet from where they’d previously been floating. “I am a spirit who thrives upon fear, and upon summoning it within my enemies, but I am also a spirit who thrives upon the prosperity of my ward. You are in a place of rest, in your own domain, and you have the power to fell any who may cross you, and yet, it is not prosperous. This requires intervention, but it is not punishable.”
Phantom’s eyes turn downwards to avoid his gaze. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Fear is fear; it cannot be stupid.”
A moment passes before the boy’s reservations draw back, and he attempts to explain. 
“I keep getting these nightmares. I think it’s just ‘cause I’ve been stressed recently; I always used to get nightmares when I was stressed as a kid. But I keep getting these nightmares of just- I dunno, everything. Some ghost beating me into the ground and hurting the people in Amity; some ghost beating me into the ground and hurting the people in the Zone; being a monster, being a bad ruler, being a bad son. I wanna tell my parents about being half ghosts but they still hate ghosts- and they love me so much, but I can’t really be sure if it’s safe, can I? It feels like everything’s just wrong lately and- and I’m scared!” 
It had started subdued enough, but as he carried on speaking, the boy’s voice progresses from a mumble to a cry, ending with tears reflecting off the glow from Fright Knight’s figure. 
And Fright Knight is intimately familiar with fear, but he’s far too used to being the cause; he doesn’t know how to soothe it, is unused to wanting to. Slowly, making sure to leave enough time between steps that the Prince has the opportunity to tell him to recede, he makes his way towards the boy’s bed, and sits down at the edge. Slower, slower still, a cold hand makes its way to the boy’s back, motionless but steady once it’s taken its place. 
He waits until Phantom has calmed enough that the trembling abates even if the tears haven’t quite finished, and then speaks. “I am a spirit of fear,” He starts quietly. “And I have seen every manner of being afraid, regardless of how strong. Most much older than you, many more imposing- none of them, none of these beings, have I seen able to face the nightmares of your reality unshaken. You are afraid; I believe every time I have met you, you have been afraid- but you have never faltered for it. You are young, and you may be terrified, but there is something about that that perhaps makes you braver.”
“And you have friends. You have your human loved ones here, and your allies within the Realms- and if being a good knight to you means being a friend, then I am your friend as well. You are not alone, Prince Phantom, and I don’t believe you ever will be.”
There is a moment of silence thicker than the blizzards of the Far Frozen, and eventually, Phantom leans to his side, looks him in the face. The fear is not gone (Fright Knight wonders idly if it ever will be, and figures not), but it’s calmer, now. More willing to settle in lieu of raging against any other emotion. 
“Thanks, Fright Knight.”
“It is my duty, Prince Phantom.”
His eyes flicker with some kind of amusement. “Can you call me Danny, though? Prince Phantom’s still kind of weird.”
“…Very well, Prince Danny.”
Fright Knight is unsure whether he’s ever made another being smile before, but looking at the child grinning snidely at him between eyes rimmed red-green from past tears, he thinks he could tolerate doing it again. 
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papiliomame · 1 year
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Comic: Reflections of Hearts Desire
Ectoberweek 2022
31. Folk Tales
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Hey Paulina, have you heard about this rumor of how to summon Phantom? He will come to you and will fulfill your deepest desires! It goes like this…
Full comic under the cut. Contains face horror and mirror scare!
Longpost warning!
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Was this all a dream after all? Or was it just a simple prank of one mischievous ghost of the many ghost who visits Amity Park? Or is it a completely different entity behind all this who is planning something more sinister…?
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Have you ever wondered what happened to Paulinas mother? Yeah, me neither… until two and a half weeks ago! After my horror video for ectoberhaunt this idea popped into my head and I was working on it until now. The folk tales which inspired this comic are the urban legend of " Bloody Mary" and the japanese ghost story about the Noppera-bō (faceless yokai). The japanese folk tales are collected in the "Kwaidan" by Lafcadio Hearn for the western audience, this is like the japanese version of the "Brothers Grimm" stories from european folk lore. The Noppera-bō are described as mischievous yokais who appear as ordinary humans before scare the humans by showing their faceless face head to get a good laugh. After reading this I thought thats like 100% Amorphos personality! I headcanon that Amorphos ghost lair is a room full of mask (with the appearance of his past victims) or full of mirrors to remind himself that he has no face and can be anyone or no one. This is where the "Bloody Mary" tale comes into play. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my little comic and happy Halloween!
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nat-a-nat · 1 year
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25. Forest
He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried
He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.
It's October now. It's getting colder. The leaves are falling. They must be covering it by now.
They crunch under his steps as he walks. Something CRUSHES under his foot. His mind pictures bones. Ribs breaking in two.
It's just a branch.
He continues his walk.
The sky is bright, but the mood is gloom. The air is moist. 
It's been a while. It must have decomposed by now, with how much rain they get. Sometimes, he thinks he can feel the dirt on his bones.
He puts a finger on his pulse. Thump. A pause. A painfully long, long, pause. It shouldn't be this long. Thump. He is alive. But his skin is cold.
His hoodie is thick. It was always enough to keep him warm. Now, he is always cold.
The ice of his core. Slowly freezing him from the inside out. 
It's shallowly buried. His corpse. Barely a few centimetres underground. A lump in the dirt hastily covered with soil. Six feet, that's how it's supposed to be.
He strays from the path. Disappeares through the trees. Like a ghost.
There's a few hiker trails in the forests surrounding Amity, but he disregards them all.
He moves through the thick foliage. There are broken branches, broken saplings. He tries to not further disturb it all.
He crushes a flower about halfway through. The stem is mangled, his shoe sole imprinted in the bud.He picks it. He rolls it between his fingers the rest of the way.
He reaches a clearing. There's a big rock in the middle. 
His soul aches. A corpse with no grave, a ghost without rest. What a pity.
He goes up to the rock. The ground underneath it is uneven, disturbed from digging.
Is it still wrong to stand on a grave if it's yours?
He kneels on the forest floor and sets a candle down. Lights it. He lays the mangled flower beside it.
A single broken flower for a lonely corpse.
He feels sorry for it. It must be sad. All alone. In a dark, cold forest. With nobody to know you died, with nobody to mourn you.
Leaving his makeshift graveyard, he felt lighter. That single candle flame keeping him warmer than any blanket.
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drawnale · 1 year
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Day 26 Six feet
Six feet from the portal? Six feet underground? Six feet from learning the true about your sun? Many possibilities.
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sumiink · 1 year
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Ectoberweek day 26: "Maddie had to face the facts: one of her kids was dead, now—a ghost, a monster—and it was her duty to destroy it before it killed the rest of her family. But first, she needed to figure out which one of the kids was dead."
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sykloni · 1 year
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Ectober 2022
25. Forest
"He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried"
Danny dies in the portal, but he doesn't want to be dead - he has his whole life ahead of him. He just can't. So he burries his body into the woods, goes back to his normal life and does his best to forget about it.
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13thdoodle · 1 year
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[ Ectoberweek 2022 Day 25 : Forest ]
"Looks like it's spring already~"
Based of day 25 prompt and the obituary™ " He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried "
It's the Phantasy AU trio having a bit of exploring around the forest, spotting a very familiar spot
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the-random-phan · 1 year
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Ectober Week Day 27- Soul Shredder
aka Ghost King Danny and his (very intimidating) Knight :)
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lexosaurus · 1 year
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Ectoberweek 25: Forgotten Bones
Prompt: 1. Forest 2. He thinks about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.
Characters: Johnny 13, Danny Phantom WC: 1145
———
“I don’t know if I should tell them,” Phantom said, his head hung low and his elbows resting on his knees. It was easy to forget how small the kid was when he trampled around his haunt like some tyrannical overlord, squashing any trespassers before they could say ‘hello.’
Johnny 13 blew the cigarette smoke from his throat and watched it fizzle into the crisp air.
“I feel bad because there’s supposed to be no more secrets, you know? They said they accepted me, so I don’t know why…”
“I never told anyone,” Johnny said. 
He might have felt amusement toward Phantom’s owlish reaction if he was in better humor. But then, Johnny was never one to talk about his past.
Most ghosts weren’t.
“Really?” Phantom asked.
“Yup.”
“Why?”
He mulled it over. “It was nobody’s business.”
It was unsurprising to see the kid’s unconvinced expression. Ghost intuition and all. 
Because even Phantom knew that unresolved deaths don’t just resolve after a few years of being a ghost. That even if the memories get altered during ghost-formation, the pain never goes away.
The moment never disappears.
It was just his luck he’d get trapped in this situation. Dragged to the forest by a group of faceless, fuzzy men—he couldn’t remember what they looked like—and surrounded with guns drawn and flashlights pointed in his eyes, casting long shadows behind him.
“Please,” Johnny begged. “You have the wrong guys.”
“That’s not what I heard,” the leader said. Beside him, his thug pressed his gun into Kitty’s temple.
“The money or the girl. Your choice.”
“Nobody’s business,” Johnny reiterated, tapping the fresh ash from his cigarette.
The Boy Scout beside him was too out of it to make an annoying remark about littering or whatever the hell dumb thing he’d usually say.
“But Kitty knows, right?”
“She was there, moron.”
“Right, but…” Phantom turned away, sheepish. “Not everyone remembers.”
“Well, you’d have to ask her then. Not everyone was insane enough to—what did you do again?”
If anything, Phantom looked even smaller as he spoke, “...I buried it in the woods.”
“Right, exactly. Most of us don’t bury our own fucking corpses in the woods.”
“And yet, you and I are both in the same place.”
Johnny looked out at the dark sky, noting the speckles of stars that danced around each other. And it occurred to him that, well shit, maybe they were in the same place. Maybe they were both stuck leading an afterlife based off of forgotten skin, forgotten bones.
Forgotten bodies.
But no, they weren’t the same. “Even if I wanted to change it now, I couldn’t. There’s nobody to tell.”
Kitty’s terrified eyes met his, and Johnny nearly collapsed on the spot. The flashlights suddenly seemed too bright, too blinding.
“I’m telling you, it wasn’t us.”
“Really? You weren’t at Tony’s last Tuesday?”
Johnny took a step back, nearly tripping over a root. “No! No, that’s not—”
“You’re calling Tony a liar?”
“—No, please!”
“You could always tell the police. Lead them to your…” 
Now that Johnny did chuckle at. “And what do you think would come out of that, kid? Surrender my bones over to the police—and for what, exactly? Justice? Revenge? Kid, I died forty years ago. Do you know what happens to bodies that stay in the dirt for forty years?”
“Well, I was going to say that it might give you some closure, but—”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Johnny said, stamping his cigarette out on the cement roof. “Maybe you should be less worried about me, a guy who’s living out his afterlife doing the thing he loves with the girl of his dreams, and more focused on yourself, who’s clearly so upset you had to come to me for advice.”
Phantom blushed green, and the brief spark of smug fire vanished from his eyes. “I didn’t come to you, you were just already here.”
“And? You’re still talking to me.”
Phantom grumbled but otherwise didn’t argue.
And thank goodness for that too, because Johnny hadn’t come to Earth for a therapy session. He didn’t want to relive that night. He didn’t want to think about what happened. He didn’t want to remember the feel of the brush scraping his legs, the dirt that stained his skin, the guns pressed against their backs as they were led further into the forest, closer and closer to The End.
The sound of Kitty’s voice. The tears on her face. The trembling in her voice.
“Please, sir, that’s not what he meant! We really don’t have anything, I promise!” Kitty cried. “Let us go, just let us go.”
The man pulled out his gun and pointed it at Johnny. Although Johnny couldn’t see—couldn’t remember—the man’s face, he would never forget the pure terror that races through his veins as the barrel pointed at his forehead. He would never forget his shaking limbs finally collapsing onto the dirt. He would never forget praying for one more day with Kitty so they could finally take that road trip they’d always talked about.
“You were there at Tony’s, and on your way out, you nicked from his cocaine supply. You either pay up the money you stole, or I’ll shoot you and your pretty lady myself.”
Johnny’s vision swam. “I—I don’t…”
The fuzzy form of the man stepped closer, casting his shadow over Johnny. “What’s that, princess?”
“I…don’t have it.”
“You should tell them, though,” Johnny said, breaking the silence between them.
Phantom gave him a quizzical look, and Johnny felt like a bug under a microscope. Damn, that kid could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.
Still, something compelled him to keep talking. So he turned his attention back to the sky and said in a detached voice, “You should tell them while you can. Because if you don’t do it now, you never will. You’ll keep putting it off, and putting it off until one day you’ll look around you and realize that there’s nobody left to tell. And you’ll spend the rest of your afterlife wondering if you should have told someone during any of those days you asked yourself and decided it wasn’t the right moment, it wasn’t the right day, that you would do it tomorrow. Because you only have tomorrow until you don’t. And you never know when that day will come, but it will, and it will come faster than you think.”
Phantom didn’t respond, but Johnny didn’t need him to. After all, they were both in the same place, and they weren’t. Johnny had no more tomorrows left, but Phantom still did.
He still had the chance to do what Johnny never could.
Johnny 13 thought about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.
He heard Kitty let out a fresh sob in front of him.
“Well, that’s tough luck, kid.”
There was a crack.
Kitty screamed.
And then nothing.
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“she traced her fingers along the forgotten metal table. despite the revelations that had come to light, she’d do it all again.”
Speed ran this for the ectober week day 30 two sentence horror story prompt! If you notice it’s technically October 31st as I post this no you didn’t <3
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