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#ectober day 1
the-random-phan · 1 year
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Frostbite is an even prouder ice papa!
(In reference to this)
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Ectoberhaunt Day 6- Freeze
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five-rivers · 1 year
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Ancestral 10
‘Syvyr’ wasn’t an easily translated word, for all that it was an important word.  Viable translations included priest, seer, enchantress, fairy, sorcerer, spirit, ghost, scholar, doctor, and phantom.  Avlynyse dictionaries often rendered it as ‘a person possessing magical powers, especially one capable of communicating with both the living and the dead, or with spirits.’
But any word that bound up in a culture had connotations and denotations aplenty.  Gwensyvyr had been a syvyr; it was in her name.  Being a syvyr was one of the possible admissions criteria for the College of Heroes.  In the Reckoning of Titles practiced by the court, Syvyr was equal to Knight or Doctor.  Avlynyse children’s fantasy often featured syvyrys on quests.  The forests of Myrgyn were called the Wyduys Syvyryse.  
Danny… fit the definition.  It was, again, part of the joke behind his chosen name.  
Being called a syvyr, being recognized as a syvyr, especially by a member of the royal family, was an honor.  
That wasn’t why Danny’s still-slow heart rate had just sped up.  
“You can’t tell our parents.”
Matthew’s brow crumpled.  “What?  Why?  I know Maddie hasn’t been receptive to… anything traditional in a long time, but she’s doing that awful ghost hunting thing.  She wouldn’t deny it out of hand.”
“That’s the problem,” said Jazz.  “She wouldn’t deny everything, she’d just think that Danny was overshadowed.”
“Over– I’m sorry, is that a direct translation of avyrsydod?  The direct inbryth gyse?  Why would that be a bad thing?”
“Because they really hate ghosts.”
“They use it more like possession than spiritual inspiration,” explained Danny.  “They’d want to drive out whatever ghost was doing it.”
Matthew sighed.  “Of course they would.  Have you, ah.  Which of the honored dead is speaking to you now?”
“Speaking is… a strong word,” said Danny.  Danny shifted back against the bed, unsure how much he should say.  He’d spent so long keeping everything secret.  
He felt the slightest breeze play across his knuckles, and looked down to see Gwensyvyr’s transparent hand resting on his blurry one.  
“Okay,” he said, slowly.  “Here’s what we know.”
.
Danny didn’t tell Matthew everything.  He wanted to keep his ghost half, at least, a secret, and Matthew was being an adult and keeping things from them as well.  
“We will have to do the trials after all, then,” said Matthew, rubbing his temples.  “That’s going to be… Dangerous.”
“I assume you mean from something other than the murder attempts?”
“Yes,” said Matthew.  “Andyr was supposed to be renovated, back when we were kids, but it never got finished.  Grandfather kicked the company we’d contracted with out after your grandfather died.  They were blamed for what happened to Leon.”
Gwensyvyr nodded sharply.  “Rightly, it sounds like,” said Danny.  
“Yes, well.  The renovation was still never finished.  I know that William was trying to convince Grandfather to change his mind about it before Vivian took the trials.  Managed to get him to say maybe to this tiny company staffed by, uh, you won’t know them, distant cousins of ours, they clean up European castles, but…”
“But then this happened,” finished Danny.  “Do you think the people from the renovation company, the original one, might be behind this?  They could be trying to cover up something they did down there.”
“Possibly.  Most of them would be quite old at this point.”
“Dead doesn’t mean gone,” reminded Jazz.  
“That’s true,” said Matthew.  “I’ll have to look into it.”  His phone beeped, and he looked down.  “It looks like our time is at an end.  Your parents are coming back.”
.
“Did you notice,” Jazz asked Danny, later, “how he didn’t tell us the name of the company they contracted with?”
“Sure did,” said Danny.  “But we didn’t tell him about the key, so that’s fair.”  There was a feather-light tap on his shoulder.  
Gwensyvyr smirked at him and started to trace letters in the air.  
SKYPPA WYKBYLDYN GRUYP.
Skippa Construction Group.  
“What, like the guy who was angry at Matthew earlier?”
Gwensyvyr nodded.  
“Okay,” said Danny.  “That’s a place to start.”
.
VIVIAN DYRYS FOUND DEAD, PRINCE MATTHEW DYRYS DECLARED REGENT, and JULIUS SKYPPA, ASSEMBLYMAN AND NOTED IMPORTER, FOUND DEAD IN ARGYNTYN HOME AFTER WARRANT FOR ARREST, read the headlines on the newspapers the next day.  
SKYPPA SUICIDE NOTE CLAIMS RESPONSIBILITY FOR ROYAL POISONINGS, SOME OFFICIALS SKEPTICAL, read the headlines later that evening.  These headlines were followed in smaller print by CUPBEARER INNOCENT, HEARING TO FOLLOW.
At least Danny could read them.  He rather wanted to break something.  
.
Danny was allowed to return to Basym Hyws the next day, his vision mostly back to normal.  The arguments made Danny wish the doctors hadn’t let him go.  
Maddie and Jack were unmatched in the stubborn argument category, with Maddie believing that all ghosts were evil against all traditions of her home culture and Jack believing ghosts existed despite the general consensus of his.  Then, too, there was the annual Christmas Debacle to consider.  
On the other hand, Matthew had quite a bit of authority on his side, accompanied by faith, and the ever-infuriating thing known as ‘unsharable proof.’
Except, ghosts in general weren’t the main thing they were arguing about.  
“I’m not saying they have to actually attempt the trials,” snarled Matthew.  “They just have to be there to start with, because all available members of the royal family have to be there.”
“It wasn’t going to be like that for Vivian’s trials!”
“That’s because we had a reigning king!  Having only a regent changes the rules!  They can sit in the first room off the hallway for all I care, but they have to be there or else it won’t be considered legitimate!”
“None of us want to have anything to do with your government–”
“It’s your government, too!”
“-- why can’t we just sign something saying that?”
“Because I can’t change the law at a drop of a hat, Madeline!”
.
“I’m sorry,” said Danny, “we’re doing what?”
“We’re holding the Moon Masque next week,” said Irene, “in the Wyduys Syvyryse.  Ah, that’s the ‘Sorcerers’ Woods–’”
“We do speak Avlynyse,” said Maddie, testily.  “I think what Danny wants to know is why we’re holding a masquerade party in the woods while all these murders are still being investigated.”
Danny winced.  He did want to know just that, but he didn’t mean it so… aggressively.  
“It’s part of the preparation for the trials,” said Irene.  “Some of the Assembly wanted to waive it, but after the aconite… the traditionalist faction was worried it was a bad sign.”
“Are you serious.”  It wasn’t a question.
Irene pressed her lips into a flat line and met Maddie’s eyes.  “Yes,” she said.  “I am serious.  There is some sentiment that the attempted poisoning was a reaction to trying to crown Matthew while skipping the trials.  A bad omen, or a warning.  Do I believe it?  No.  But that’s the way it is.  You don’t have to jump down my throat about it.”Danny saw his mother’s eyes flare, and braced himself for another loud argument. 
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squirrellysketches · 4 months
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eight ectober nights day 1: fire
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56thingsinaname · 6 months
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Ectober Haunt Day 1!
Botanomancy!
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ajitated · 1 year
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(Originally posted: 2 October 2021)
Ghostea! It’s cute, as long as you don’t think about it too much!
Ectober Month 2021, Day 1: Treat
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chasingrabbits-art · 2 years
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DannyMay day 1: new style
Ok so I am a complete pussy and I decide to redraw last year's ectober prompt of blood moon or redmoon of course Will Wood and shade similar to what Mike Mignola does on his Hellboy comics!
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ecto-mochi · 5 months
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Ectober Day 1 - Will-o-wisps
Words: 630ish
Don't follow the will-o-wisps. 
They appear every year in Amity Park, right on October 1st. Like starlight, flickering in the rough autumn breeze. Floating on rooftop's edges, in damp alleyways, congregating in the darkness of the nasty burger's back lot.
Don't follow the will-o-wisps. The teens say you can hear them whispering, that if you look too closely at one's flame you can glimpse the blinding, oxygenated burn of a life lived so brutally fast that there wasn't enough tinder left to keep it going.
The brighter the flame, the harder they fall. The highschoolers put them in glass mason jars and shake them around like fireflies. Hold a piece of cardboard close, too close, until it begins to smoke a dark chemical green, the smell of rusting copper filling the air.
The adults never try to stop them - not until it’s all burning down. Before anyone knows better there’s nothing left but cinder and debris on the scorched and ashen ground. Another family in ruins, the most recent headline reads. Overnight, the obituary has gained yet another unfamiliar face.
The wisps don't hurt when you touch them; not at first. But they leave a hollow scar, one that lingers in the depths of your soul and burns away at your hope and being until only ashes remain. The parents never see that, and the kids never seem to care. After all, they aren’t truly following the wisps, and who are they to heed that old and superstitious warning? So they play games in the brief reprieve of a passing period, on the floors of dirty bathrooms and after-school clubs. Who can stare at the flame the longest? Are you brave enough to slowly unscrew the lid and lift it up and away, as far as you can go before the wisp jolts and you slam it down with all your might? How hard must you try to be strong and fearless? Is it ever enough? Can you see the wisp lightly tapping against the glass, how it taps and taps and taps and taps until finally 
crack 
and now it's too late. The rooftop is empty and the alleyways are full and wet and reek of gunsmoke and iron.
Don't follow them, it’s really just that easy! The high school puts up posters that tell the kids just the same, in bright friendly fonts that wield fearful statistics and overblown facts. Use (buy) a Fenton will-destroyer, it'll keep the wisps away for good! Talk to a friend (a trusted adult) if you see one, they'll know how to handle it, handle you. This doesn’t stop the kids; who collect them nonetheless. How many can you fit in that little glass jar? Cram them together like pills in a bottle, keep them on your bedside table for whatever silly little story you've decided to fear. 
(But don’t keep too many - or else the school will call a meeting. They’ll see you for what you are, you damned delinquent. They’ll look your parents in the eyes and tell them how problematic you are, how much help you need.
You don’t need help, though. Right?)
The next day, the entire school is called to the auditorium. They all file in, exchanging gossip, cramming themselves down into poorly padded theater chairs. Above the careless chatter of the students, a teacher begins to speak. Another fire. Another child lost to the wisps. They meant so much to us, we must keep their friends and parents in our hearts. Make sure to tell us if you see a wisp, if you hear it calling. You’ll be safe with us, with whatever choices we make for you. Just don’t burn down and it’ll all be okay.
So yes, don’t follow the will-o-wisps - and to think - today is only October 3rd!
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sumiink · 10 months
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Dannymay 2023 Masterpost
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This was my first Dannymay! And, well, I only finished about half the prompts. But I like the stuff I did do so I’ll consider this a success! Hopefully Ectober will be better.
Individual pieces and prompts under the cut:
Day 1: Fantasy AU
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Day 2: Backpack
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Day 3: Blizzard
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Day 4: Fractals
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Day 6: Eclipse
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Day 7: Weapon
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Day 8: Electric Core AU
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Day 9: Ghost Zone
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Day 10: Bones
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Day 11: Underwater
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Day 13: Monster
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Day 14: Seance
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Day 15: Full Hazmat AU
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Day 16: Fangs
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Day 18: Grave
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Day 21: Shatter
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black-rose-writings · 6 months
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Title: Within the Garden, I found peace
Ectober 2023, Day 1 - Prompt: Botanomacy
Sam reflects on her life and her new family
She knew a path had been set for her life, before she was even born. She always did.
She would grow up, the perfect disgustingly rich child, wearing all the right and fashionable and girly clothes, playing all the popular girl sports, maybe playing piano or the violin.
She could have been popular. She could have been one of the A-listers. She knew how to walk the world of the rich and famous, even if she had no interest in that life. Or maybe she had no interest in it, because she knew it so well.
And so, as soon as she got an allowance, she changed her entire wardrobe, redecorated her room, everything to distance herself from the perfect princess her parents wished her to be.
She became a freak of her own choice and hung out with the other weirdos.
Still, she missed it often, the love and praise her parents would give her, when she acted how they wanted.
She wanted to laugh at her own naivety, now. No, they didn’t love her. They never did. They loved an image of her they crafted in their minds.
And now, there they were, working with their hands to rebuild the world, working like the poor people they would snicker at behind closed doors.
She was sad Danny ran away. She knew how anxious and scared he was all the time. How hard it was for him to live in hiding from his own parents. Within the Garden, she knew he would find peace, just as she had.
She walked past the resting pods, where the workers dwelled, and towards her own, a gorgeous violet flower, where she would sleep tonight.
Her new father told her that with time, as her body adapted to her new role, she would need less sleep and less food.
But for now, she needed to rest. She stepped into the bulb and as it closed around her and she became sleepy, for the first time in her whole life, she felt home.
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evilliouseveryday · 1 year
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ectober day 1
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evils theater
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ectoberhaunt · 1 year
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Final Announcement
Since the event officially begins tomorrow, here are some things we need to clarify.
The ONLY tag we are tracking is #ectoberhaunt22 There is another DP event using the tag #ectober month 2022, so please keep this in mind.
Tomorrow's prompt, order/chaos, will be DAY 3, as stated in the calendar posts. We are doing this for peace of mind, so please coincide your prompt's numbers with the calendar date listed next to it on the calendar. Days 1&2 are blank days.
Feel free to send your fic drafts to the Ao3 collection ahead of time, we can accept them early and when published they'll automatically appear in the collection.
If you have any questions, please shoot us an ask. Anon is on. We are also reachable through our discord server!
Thank you, Mod Clockwork
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sailor-toni · 1 year
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Ectober day 1: Sam Manson
I gave her face some white, as most goths wear a white foundation.
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squirrellysketches · 1 year
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ectober day 1: witch
decided to design a ghost who was hanged as a witch
don’t come at me about the clothes. i don’t know or care to know about accuracy
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raaorqtpbpdy · 1 year
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Ah fuck forgot to post it here… Ectober day 1
PATH OF WHITE STONES
[Warning for dead bodies/corpses, fanon-typical horror &c.]
Between Amity Park and Lake Eerie, there were miles and miles of woods. Dark, and twisting, and easy to get lost in. You could walk ten feet into the woods, and when you looked behind you, already you'd lost sight of where you came from. Who knows how many people have gone in and never come out? Who knows how many have thought the woods were the perfect place to hide a body?
Even before the portal opened in the Fentons' basement, even before the town of Amity Park really believed in ghosts, there were stories about those woods being haunted. Stories of people getting lost until they met a kind stranger who led them back out, and then vanished. Stories of people seeing creepy shadows in the corners of their eyes, and hearing whispering voices telling them to get out.
Danny had never put much stock in these stories, until one day, he went into the woods, chasing down an angry bear ghost, undoubtedly one of Vlad's, though the man himself hadn't shown his face. He'd made Sam and Tucker stay behind, since, while he could just fly above the trees toward home, they could easily get lost.
It wasn't long before Danny felt a tug in his chest, like someone puling on an ice-cold thread tangled up in his rib cage. At first, he tried to ignore it. He listened for the bear, kept his eyes peeled for any sign of its eerie blue pelt or its extra extendable claws, but somehow, he'd lost it. He kept getting distracted by that tug in his chest.
Not giving up, but sidelining the bear hunt for a moment, he followed the tug in his chest, letting it guide him toward an oblong ring of mushrooms underneath a huge tree, where the tug kept pulling him down, down. Against his better judgement, he shook off his fear and started to dig. Less than a foot bellow the dirt, something white poked through, and Danny picked it up, thinking it was a stone of some kind.
What he held in his hand was no stone, but a human vertebrae.
Jakob Wrona, died 1976, stabbed in the neck by his brother.
Danny's eyes widened and he dropped the bone with a yelp and a start. He didn't want to know who they came from, but the name had popped into his head unbidden. The tug, which had faded momentarily, returned, this time, pulling him in a different direction.
Again, it pulled him toward the ground, and again, he unearthed a human bone, this time a femur.
Maria Vasquez, died 1980, pushed down the stairs by her husband.
Danny couldn't breathe, and was too busy staring in horror to thank the Ancients he didn't actually need to, then the tug resumed, pulling him deeper into the woods. The next one was buried deep, more than six feet, and Danny sunk into the ground with intangibility, rather than dig, already knowing what he would find, but unable to stave off his morbid curiosity. He knew as soon as he reached the body, still fleshy and crawling with maggots.
Kaitlyn Chu, died 2004, strangled with a wire by her academic rival.
Danny remembered seeing the news when Kaitlyn Chu went missing. It had been just a few months before his accident, just before the girl was supposed to graduate high school. To him memory, no one was ever charged with her disappearance, and since no body was found, most assumed she'd ran away. How many had gotten away with murder just by burying the body in these woods.
The icy tug led Danny back upward. Deeper and deeper into the forest, to a great old tree with hollow looking roots. He reached into the hollow roots, and up, and with a crack, he pulled out a shoe, the mostly decomposed foot still inside. With a shout, he stuffed the shoe back into the hollow tree with intangibility.
Peter Hanson, died 1992, attacked while on a hike.
It was all too much. Forget the bear. Danny would let it rampage against the various woodland creatures for all he cared about it now. He shot up into the sky, ignoring the chilling pull in his chest as he flew over the woods at top speed, and it adjusted ever few seconds, trying to pull him toward a different body, a different story he didn't want to know.
He could see the edge of the woods, and Fenton Works beyond it. He had gone much farther in than he'd thought, but he was almost home free. The pull in his chest shifted again, this time pulling him so hard he dropped out of the sky and crash landed on the forest floor. Whose bones would it be this time? Who wanted to be found so badly they could wrench him out of the sky. Practically trembling with nerves, Danny followed the pull once more, hoping to get it over with.
It brought him to the middle of a clearing, where, if he looked up, he could see stars. He laid down on a slight indentation in the soil, turned intangible, and let the ground swallow him until he was about three feet down, and he settled right into the corpse below.
Daniel Fenton, died 2004, killed by one of his parents' lab experiments.
Had there been air, Danny would have gasped. He tried to jump back up out of the ground, but it was as if the bones were holding him there. Struggling, he finally managed to shake them off, and at top speed, he rocketed out of the grave, out of the clearing, and out of the woods.
It had to have been Sam and Tucker who buried him, but why had they never said anything? This must've been why they'd looked so surprised and shaken up when he returned to school. Why had they never said anything? Should he?
In the end, Danny never brought it up with them, either his shallow grave, or the new ability he'd discovered to find the restless dead. But he still thought about the corpse in the woods sometimes. Hard to forget where you are buried.
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ghostly-penumbra · 1 year
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Ectober Week 2022. Day Thirty
Shiver
Ao3 FFN
Summary: Danny wakes up, and deals with himself.
Warning: The aftermat of a nightmare. Near death experience (in a halfa way).
Part 1
- - -
Danny woke up gasping, clutching at his head whilst his lungs demanded to be filled with oxygen they didn't need, and his heartbeat skyrocketing to something that for a living person would be called 'normal' but for him felt like a drummer going crazy in his chest after over a year of being deadly quiet.
"It was just a dream." He told himself, flexing his legs and putting his face against his knees, ignoring how his adrenaline-strung body screamed that he was dying and should be worried about it as it returned to his normal state of half-life. "They love me." He was awake enough to lie to himself and pretend that that hadn't been said in a sob. "They won't do that to me, they will accept me and they- they will apologize; they don't know they're hurting me, if they knew they wouldn't do it." He recited like a mantra. "I am not a freak."
His body shook, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn't just leftover adrenaline, but actual shivers of cold. He sighed, looking at the ice covering his room from floor to ceiling.
Figures; if he felt his ghost half was at risk of vanishing —even if just in a dream—, he'd have fought back with the bare essential of his core, his ice. And if his body had tricked itself into thinking he was fully alive, then it would trick itself into believing he could feel cold.
Danny pressed the palm of his left hand against his forehead, reminding himself that his brain was, in fact, pretty much whole and untouched.
With a thought, the ice returned to him, retreating into him as if rewound, and in a few seconds his room was dry again.
"... I am not a freak."
- - -
I don't like the Fenton parents being awful and hateful but I love Danny being afraid they will be. Hope it makes sense.
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goodfish-bowl · 1 year
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EctoberHaunt and Ectober Week 2022 Master Post
Happy Halloween! Here’s my complete collections of prompts for this month. Big thanks to those over at @ectoberhaunt and @ectoberweekofficial for the prompts! All fills should be correctly tagged, fics contain summaries and AO3 links, and please do mind the warnings if they’re there.
All my Ectoberhaunt22 fics can also be found here on AO3
Ectoberhaunt22
Day 3 - Order: Order to Entropy (poem)
Day 3 - Chaos: Refraction Chapter 3: Break to Build (fic)
Day 4 - Box: All Boxed Up (art)
Day 4 - Staff: Spirit of Rock (art)
Day 5 - Wraith: Paved with Good Intentions (fic)
Day 5 - Banshee: The Last One (art)
Day 6 - Burn: Fevour (fic)
Day 6 - Freeze: A Mercy (fic)
Day 7 - Purify & Infect: Detox(ic) (art)
Day 10 - Hunger: Taste Test (fic)
Day 10 - Harvest: Harvest Moon (art)
Day 11 - Drown: A Nap with the Fishes (fic)
Day 11 - Thirst: A Craving to be Sated (fic)
Day 12 - A Way of Life & Cause of Death: A Way of Death (fic)
Day 13 - Restored: Humanity Restored (comic)
Day 13 - Abandoned: The Haunting of Amity Park: Part 1: The Neon District (fic)
Day 14 - Haunted House: The Haunting of Amity Park:Part 2:  FentonWorks (fic)
Day 14 - Costume Party: Double Trouble (art)
Day 18 - Eyes: A Trick of the Light (animation)
Day 18 - Teeth: Teeth Bared (art)
Day 19 - One & One Hundred: Hall of a Hundred Eyes (art)
Day 21 - Coronation: The Dragon Queen (art)
Day 24 - Future: The Price of Knowing (art)
Day 24 - Past: Too Dead for This: Chapter 1: Seven Years is a Long Time (fic)
Ectober Week 2022
Day 26 - Six Feet: I’ll Come Home if You Call (poem and art)
Day 28 - “Psst, you’re dead. Pass it on.“: Two Paths (animation)
Unprompted
Cosmic Perspective (art)
Dead and Gone (transparent art)
Squeaky Toy (animation)
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Ectoberhaunt21 Master Post
Commentary Under the Cut
It has been supremely challenging and fun to do all of these prompts! I know I’m not a super prolific author and artist, but I really enjoy events like this. While it’s been hard on me to produce this sheer amount of content, it was engaging and active, giving me something to do and has motivated me to put out more content in a month than I would normally do in a year on my own. I also love seeing the improvement in my content from this year to last year, when I first took part in this event, along as throughout the event itself, I noticed improvement. While I might not have been able to fill all of the prompts I had planned to do, I also did much more than I originally planned as well, shooting to fill all of the prompts, both for each day. But with 29 fills, 3 of which have no prompt at all, instead inspired by other things throughout the event, I’m satisfied.
I’ve had so much fun throughout this entire event, from planning my fills, to the story line made up by the Ectoberhaunt crew, to drawing and writing my fills themselves. But of all of them, I do have some favorites.
I found my trend of horrible angst holds true, with some of my most severe fill, at least in my opinion, being Paved with Good Intentions. Vlad’s perspective of Danny’s grief was definitely something I found fun to write.
I noticed I used a lot of Outside, or limited perspective, especially with The Haunting of Amity Park, where you only get the perspective from the camera, so it ended up being mostly descriptions and dialog. The morticians perspective in A Way of Death was also amusing to write.
I tried out a lot of different art techniques this year as well. I messed with my style, bouncing back and forth between a more semi-realistic style and then a more cartoon-esque style for the more humorous fills, and then the simplistic style for a few other ones. I definitely think I’ve improved over the past month, just due to the sheer amount of art alone. The animations were fun themselves.
My ask box is always open if you want to talk to me about a particular piece.
See ya around!
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