#Spectral Glades

[velvethana]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀”

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) TEASER

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

[sarandipitywrites]

Line Rewrite Tag

Thanks for the tag, @kaylinalexanderbooks! go check out her rewrite here.

Rules: Rewrite the given snippet in your style, then provide a snippet of your own for the next person to rewrite!

Kaylin's Line:

Closing my eyes, I reached out to the others with my mind, like it was my hand. It worked! I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I felt four distinct… forces, I thought was the best word for them. My smile faded as I concentrated, strained, tried to wake them up. Not that I knew how to do that. Wake! I commanded, begged. Please, wake up!

My rewrite:

Eyes closed, I allowed my consciousness to reach out to theirs with spectral fingers. In the astral darkness, I felt lights, flames, forces. Four of them. A slow smile crept onto my face. Found you. I wrap my hand around their shoulders and shake. Nothing. My smile slips. I grab them, push them, pull and struggle and scream. Wake! It's less a command than a sob. Please. My throat tightens. Please, wake up.

Line(s) for you to rewrite:

The door opens easy, ushering them in. Inside the studio, the light is soft—gentle enough to ease the transition from night into dusk, but bright enough that Vy can finally see without squinching their bad eye shut. A minibar stocked with coffee, myriad teas, and a spicerack’s worth of flavorings dominates the left side of the waiting area, with the right given over to plush couches and armchairs surrounding a coffee table stacked with art books. Then there are the masks. On the left hand wall, mounted on every available surface, masks stare down at Vy with empty eyes. Artistic and ceremonial, masks for actors and masks for cops. The collection must’ve come from every corner of the world. It’d be impressive, if those blank eyes didn’t make Vy’s skin want to shed from their bones and slither out into the street.

tag! @sam-glade, @toribookworm22, @ink-enchanted, plus an open tag

Spark Signature taglist (ask to be added or removed): @leah-yasmin-writes, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @mundanemoongirl

[nocturnaldice]

German Folklore inspired D&D (5E) Monsters

Frau Holle;

Frau Holle is a legendary figure from German folklore, often depicted as a powerful and enigmatic woman who dwells in the realm between the living and the dead. She is known for her dual nature, embodying both kindness and severity. In some tales, Frau Holle is a nurturing, motherly figure who rewards hard work and diligence, showering the virtuous with blessings. In others, she is a fearsome, supernatural being who punishes the lazy and wicked, often with harsh and mysterious consequences.

Frau Holle is typically associated with winter, snow, and the household, especially spinning and weaving. When she shakes her feather bed, it is said to cause snow to fall in the mortal world. She is often depicted as an elderly woman with a commanding presence, wearing traditional, old-fashioned garb, and carrying a spindle or broom.

In her more malevolent aspect, Frau Holle may appear as a monstrous figure with control over spirits and dark magic, capable of summoning blizzards and curses upon those who incur her wrath. Her realm is said to be accessible through wells or bodies of water, where she judges the souls of the dead and metes out rewards or punishments based on their deeds in life.

The Erlking;

The Erlking, also known as the "Alder King," is a fearsome and malevolent figure from German folklore. Often portrayed as a spectral, ghostly king of the fey or a dark, ominous spirit, the Erlking lures unsuspecting travelers, especially children, into the depths of his enchanted forest, never to be seen again. His presence is marked by an aura of dread and an eerie, unearthly charm.

The Erlking is typically depicted as a tall, imposing figure with an ethereal, almost translucent appearance, often wearing a crown of twisted branches and leaves. His eyes are said to gleam with a cold, hypnotic light, and his voice is a haunting melody that can entrance and bewitch those who hear it. He rides through the forest on a magnificent steed, accompanied by ghostly minions and fey creatures that do his bidding.

In tales, the Erlking's domain is a shadowy, mist-laden forest where time and space seem to warp and twist. He is a master of illusion and enchantment, able to manipulate the environment to confuse and ensnare his victims. Those who fall under his spell are drawn deeper into his realm, where they are lost forever or meet a grim fate.

The Erlking embodies the darker aspects of nature and the supernatural, representing the dangers and mysteries of the wild. He is a powerful and cunning adversary, capable of wielding potent magic and commanding the loyalty of lesser fey and dark spirits. Confronting the Erlking requires not only physical prowess but also wisdom and resilience to resist his beguiling charms and overcome his otherworldly powers.

Elwetritsch;

The Elwetritsch is a whimsical and elusive creature from German folklore, particularly associated with the Palatinate region. Described as a fantastical hybrid, the Elwetritsch typically combines features of birds and small mammals. It often appears as a small, bird-like creature with rabbit-like ears, feathered wings, and sometimes even antlers or a tail resembling that of a squirrel.

In folklore, the Elwetritsch is known for its shy and reclusive nature. It inhabits dense forests, marshes, and secluded glades, where it skillfully camouflages itself to avoid detection. The creature is rarely seen by humans, contributing to its mythical status and the various fanciful descriptions attributed to it.

The Elwetritsch is often associated with playful and harmless mischief. It is said to enjoy leading travelers astray, creating false trails, and causing minor inconveniences. Despite its trickster tendencies, it is generally not considered malevolent. Instead, it embodies the enchanting and unpredictable qualities of the natural world.

In stories and local traditions, the Elwetritsch is sometimes the subject of light-hearted hunting expeditions, where participants (often aware of the creature's mythical nature) embark on humorous and often fruitless quests to capture it. These hunts are more about social bonding and entertainment than any serious attempt to find the elusive creature.

The Elwetritsch adds a touch of magic and whimsy to the folklore of the regions it inhabits, symbolizing the mysterious and delightful aspects of nature. Its presence in a campaign can provide opportunities for playful encounters, light-hearted adventures, and the exploration of enchanted forests filled with wonder and surprise.

Beerwolf;

The Beerwolf, also known as "Bierwolf," is a fearsome creature from German folklore, particularly associated with tales from the rural regions of Germany. Unlike the more commonly known werewolf, the Beerwolf is not a shapeshifter but a monstrous wolf with a penchant for causing havoc in and around taverns and villages, especially during beer festivals and gatherings.

The Beerwolf is typically depicted as a large, imposing wolf with a thick, shaggy coat and glowing, feral eyes that shine with an unnatural light. Its fangs are long and razor-sharp, capable of tearing through flesh and bone with ease. The creature's howl is said to be a bone-chilling sound that instills fear in all who hear it, often signaling its approach.

In folklore, the Beerwolf is often seen as a manifestation of the dangers associated with excessive drinking and debauchery. It is said to lurk around beer halls and taverns, preying on those who have had too much to drink, leading them away into the night where they disappear without a trace. Some stories suggest that the Beerwolf is drawn to the scent of beer and can be found prowling near breweries and cellars.

Wolpertinger;

The Wolpertinger is a fantastical creature from Bavarian folklore, known for its bizarre and whimsical appearance. It is often described as a hybrid creature, combining features of various animals such as rabbits, birds, deer, and rodents. The Wolpertinger is typically depicted as a small, furry creature with the antlers of a deer, the wings of a bird, and the body of a rabbit or rodent, often with additional features like duck bills or squirrel tails.

The Wolpertinger's appearance varies widely depending on the storyteller, with each iteration more fantastical than the last. Despite its unusual appearance, the Wolpertinger is often portrayed as harmless and even endearing, more likely to cause amusement than fear.

In folklore, the Wolpertinger is said to inhabit the dense forests and mountainous regions of Bavaria, where it eludes capture with its agility and cleverness. It is often associated with beer halls and taverns, where it is said to enjoy stealing sips of beer and causing mischief among patrons. Legends of the Wolpertinger have been passed down through generations, with many hunters claiming to have caught glimpses of the elusive creature during their expeditions.

Petermännchen;

Petermännchen are mischievous and benevolent spirits from German folklore, particularly prevalent in the northern regions of Germany, including Pomerania and Mecklenburg. This small, gnome-like creature is known for its playful nature and its habit of assisting or pranking humans, depending on their treatment of it and others.

Petermännchen are typically depicted as a small humanoid creature, standing about two to three feet tall. It has a rotund figure, with a long beard and pointed ears. Its eyes are often described as twinkling with mischief, and it is usually depicted wearing traditional clothing, such as a pointed hat and simple, rustic attire.

According to folklore, Petermännchen are most active at night, where they roam the countryside, forests, and villages, interacting with humans in various ways. They are said to be particularly fond of children and animals, often playing games with them or leaving small gifts in exchange for treats or acts of kindness.

While Petermännchen are generally friendly and helpful, they can also be mischievous, especially towards those who mistreat them or others. They may play harmless pranks on those they deem deserving or teach valuable lessons through their actions.

Irrwurz;

The Irrwurz is a mysterious and malevolent plant creature from German folklore, said to inhabit dark and secluded places in the forest, marshes, or other remote areas. It is often depicted as a twisted and grotesque plant with thorny vines, glowing eyes, and a hunger for the unwary.

The Irrwurz appears as a gnarled and twisted plant with thick, thorny vines and dark, glossy leaves. Its roots burrow deep into the earth, anchoring it to its chosen habitat. Glowing eyes peering out from amidst the foliage give it an eerie and menacing appearance, and its scent is said to be foul and nauseating.

Legends of the Irrwurz warn travelers to avoid venturing into areas where it is said to dwell, for those who do risk becoming lost forever in its tangled embrace. The Irrwurz is said to ensnare its victims with its thorny vines, dragging them down into the earth to be consumed and absorbed into its roots, never to be seen again.

[aifanfictions]

Path of Valor

Chapter 10: Whispers of the Forgotten

Their journey continued deeper into the enchanted forest, where each day brought new wonders and mysteries. The Heartstone's radiant energy remained their guide, and their bond had grown stronger with every shared adventure.

One morning, as they ventured along a winding path, (Y/N) noticed an unusual phenomenon. Wisps of iridescent light floated in the air, like tiny fireflies. They swirled around her and her companions, leaving a trail of delicate, luminescent patterns in their wake.

Curiosity piqued, (Y/N) reached out to touch one of the wisps. To her astonishment, it responded, gently pulsating in her hand as if communicating. The others observed with fascination, and Jaskier couldn't help but exclaim, "Well, I've seen many curious things in my time, but this is quite extraordinary."

The wisps, it seemed, were trying to lead them somewhere. With a shared decision, they followed the ethereal trail, their path illuminated by the delicate, glowing creatures. It felt as though the forest itself was guiding them toward a hidden destination.

As they ventured deeper, the atmosphere grew more enchanted, and the Heartstone pulsed with an even stronger glow. They reached a secluded glade, where a massive, ancient tree stood at the center. The tree's bark was etched with mysterious symbols, and it seemed to resonate with a profound, ancient power.

At the base of the tree lay a stone tablet, covered in runes and inscriptions that were nearly indecipherable. But (Y/N), with her knowledge of ancient languages, recognized the text as an invocation—an incantation that had not been spoken in centuries.

As (Y/N) began to recite the incantation, the forest seemed to respond. The ground trembled, and the ancient tree came to life, its branches swaying with a ghostly grace. The Heartstone, too, shone with a brilliant light, illuminating the glade in a radiant glow.

Geralt, ever vigilant, sensed a presence in the air—a spectral, ethereal figure that emerged from the heart of the tree. It was a being from the past, a guardian of the forest's ancient secrets.

With a voice that seemed to echo through time, the guardian spoke, "You have awakened me, seekers of knowledge. I am the keeper of the forest's memory, and I sense within you the Heartstone's radiant light."

The guardian's words held an enigmatic weight, and it continued, "To unlock the forest's deepest secrets, you must first delve into your own hearts and reveal the bonds that connect you."

With those words, the guardian's form began to blur, and it merged with the ancient tree, its essence becoming one with the forest. (Y/N), Geralt, and Jaskier exchanged puzzled glances. It seemed they had a task ahead of them—a task that was tied to their shared journey.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the Heartstone's radiant energy resonated with their inner bonds, and they found themselves in a dreamscape—a world of memories, emotions, and unspoken truths.

Geralt's connection to (Y/N) had grown undeniable, and in the dreamscape, his feelings were laid bare in subtle, heartfelt moments. They shared a tender exchange, a stolen glance, and an unspoken gesture of comfort that spoke volumes.

The dreamscape unveiled the depth of their unspoken connection, a bond that had grown stronger with each challenge they faced. As the dreamscape faded, they returned to the glade, their hearts filled with newfound understanding.

The guardian's voice echoed once more, "You have taken the first step toward unlocking the forest's secrets. Seek the heart of the forest, where destiny awaits."

Their path continued, and the forest seemed to pulse with anticipation. The Heartstone's light continued to lead the way, illuminating a path that held secrets and destiny in equal measure. They couldn't help but wonder what mysteries awaited them, and what the guardian's cryptic message truly meant.

As they ventured deeper into the enchanted forest, their unspoken connection was an undeniable force, and their bond grew stronger with each shared moment. The Heartstone's radiant energy continued to guide them, leading the way to a destiny that awaited, shrouded in ancient secrets and mystical revelations.

Time seemed to lose its hold as they ventured deeper into the forest. The Heartstone's radiant energy enveloped them, casting an otherworldly glow that bathed the forest in a gentle, ethereal light. The air was alive with whispers, as if the very trees held secrets within their ancient branches.

Jaskier, with his unquenchable curiosity, couldn't resist the temptation to sing a lilting tune as they walked. His voice filled the air, harmonizing with the forest's enchanting melodies. The ethereal wisps responded to his song, swirling in intricate patterns that mirrored the notes of his melody.

Geralt, his senses ever alert, felt the ancient magic of the forest come alive. He observed (Y/N) with a silent intensity, a protectiveness in his gaze that hinted at the depth of his feelings. It

was as if the forest's enchantment had brought their unspoken connection to the surface, laying bare the emotions that had been growing between them.

As they ventured further, the Heartstone's light guided them to a glade unlike any they had seen before. At its center stood a majestic tree, its roots extending deep into the earth, while its branches reached toward the heavens. The tree's bark was adorned with symbols that seemed to pulse with ancient wisdom.

At the base of the tree, the stone tablet lay, its inscriptions gleaming with the same iridescent light as the wisps. (Y/N) once again began to recite the ancient incantation, her voice carrying a weight of history and magic. The forest responded, its heartbeat echoing through the glade.

The guardian, a spectral figure that had been a part of the tree itself, emerged to greet them. It spoke with a voice that resonated with the wisdom of ages long past.

"Seekers of knowledge," the guardian began, "you have come to unlock the forest's secrets. To do so, you must confront the shadows of the past and reveal the true nature of your bonds."

With those enigmatic words, the guardian's essence merged back into the ancient tree, and the forest seemed to come alive with memories and echoes of time.

In the dreamscape that followed, they found themselves walking through a spectral reflection of their shared experiences. It was a world of emotions and unspoken truths, where their bonds were laid bare.

Geralt's silent protectiveness was evident in the dreamscape. He was always by (Y/N)'s side, his golden eyes watching over her. In one tender moment, he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, and his fingers lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

In another memory within the dreamscape, they shared a campfire, the flickering flames casting their faces in a warm, intimate light. (Y/N) met Geralt's gaze, and there was a moment of unspoken connection that passed between them. It was a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had grown between them on this journey.

The dreamscape also revealed Jaskier's role in their shared bond. His lighthearted songs and witty banter had provided a sense of camaraderie and laughter that had kept their spirits high in the face of danger. He was more than a friend; he was the heart of their group, the one who reminded them of the joy of the journey.

As the dreamscape dissolved, they returned to the glade, their hearts filled with a newfound understanding of their connection. The guardian's voice echoed once more, "You have revealed the bonds that connect you, but the forest's deepest secrets remain hidden. Seek the heart of the forest, where destiny awaits."

Their path continued, illuminated by the Heartstone's radiant energy, and guided by the ancient wisdom they had uncovered. The forest's enchantment seemed to grow stronger, weaving a tapestry of magic and destiny that bound them together.

As they ventured deeper into the enchanted forest, it was clear that their journey had taken on a new dimension. The unspoken connection between Geralt and (Y/N) had been laid bare, and the forest's magic had deepened their bond.

The Heartstone's radiant energy led the way to a destiny that awaited, shrouded in ancient secrets and mystical revelations. With every step they took, they couldn't help but wonder what mysteries awaited them and what the guardian's cryptic message truly meant.

As they ventured further into the forest, their unspoken connection remained a force that pulsed with magic and emotion, drawing them closer together with each passing moment. The heart of the forest awaited, and they were determined to uncover the secrets that lay hidden in its ancient depths.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[kellshaw]

Heads up, 7 up

Thanking @mjparkerwriting for this tag. Check out the snappy dialog in her WIP in the original post.

Here's a current extract from my ongoing WIP:

A full-length mirror graced one wall, its dark wooden frame elaborately carved with clouds of open mouths, skulls and eyes. “That’s creepy.” Lukie muttered as she scanned the room. “What’s that?”

As she studied her pallid, undead reflection, a faint breeze stirred her short-cropped blonde hair. Just enough to make her watch.

She touched the mirror. “I think there’s something behind it.” She raised a fist.

“Don’t break it!” Pavish warned. “It is a work of art and has religious import.”

“Then how do you get to the space behind the mirror?” Lukie objected.

Pavish said, “There’s a Kytherian tradition called ‘cunning wood’. Here.” The elf stepped up to the frame and ran their hands around the frame, fiddling with the carvings.

A faint click filled the room, and they stepped back as the door frame swung open towards them.

On the other side was a small room, decorated like a religious area with a shrine in the far corner, although Lukie wasn’t sure of the religion being practiced.

A whisper reached Lukie’s ears and the chill of spectral energy boiled through the room.

“Wait!” Lukie cried.

From the other side, a shadowy figure rushed forward, a silver knife flashing through the air.

And soft-tagging @sam-glade, @rickie-the-storyteller, @toribookworm22, @liv-is, @saltwaterbells, @anomalousfrequency and anyone else who wants to join in.

[thedarklightcrypt]

skylands and its food chain

a rather quick piece but I figured it would be good to write anyway. skylanders is very explicit about species being carnivorous, now lets document that. mabu are eaten by trolls and cyclopses. in the machine of doom kaos says that glumshanks can eat flynn later, and in gill grunts heroic challenge (jailbreak!) cali offhandedly mentions that the cyclopses will get hungry soon gillmen are eaten by trolls. oilspill islands opening dialogue is the notable instance ("and hurry! i can already smell the cooking fires and tartar sauce!") sheep and chicken are also both consumed in skylands. lt. woalf refers to the captured sheep as 'tasty treats', and flynn is seen eating chicken in capn clucks chicken HQ. which also may imply mabu are omnivorous a couple skylanders can also eat enemies in game, such as wrecking ball and thumpback. whether this is exclusive to them or applies to every member of their species is out of my guessing range. bark demons eat chompies. in game this regenerates their HP. the undead eat the living. there is little information outside of that but i assume that it is a tad more complicated than that. ghost roaster eats ghosts. said in his backstory "After eating an entire spectral village" + "he (eon) figured even a ghost eater could be useful. So he made Ghost Roaster a Skylander… after he promised to eat only evil ghosts." last part has interesting implications as well as in his gameplay, he can eat ghosts. though this seems to be a ghost roaster only situation

gobble pods feed on greebles and chompies. see SF chapter 2 cascade glade

[violettesiren]

I stand at my window and listen; Only the plaintive murmur of a swarm of cicadas. I stand on the wet grass and ponder, And turn to the east and behold you, Great yellow moon. Why do you frighten me so, You captive of the coconut glade? I have seen you before, Have flirted with you so many a night.

When my heart, ever throbbing, never listless, Had pined for the moonlight to calm it. But you were a dainty whiteness That kissed my brow then. A gentle, pale flutter That touched my aching breast.

You are a lonely yellow moon now. You are ghastly, spectral tonight, Alone Behind your prison bars of coconut trees. That is why I do not dare take you into my hand And press you against my cheek To feel how cold you are.

I am afraid of you, yellow moon.

Yellow Moon by Angela Manalang-Gloria

[mae-we-post-poems]

Yellow Moon

Angela Manalang-Gloria

I stand at my window and listen;

Only the plaintive murmur of a swarm of cicadas.

I stand on the wet grass and ponder,

And turn to the east and behold you,

Great yellow moon.

Why do you frighten me so,

You captive of the coconut glade?

I have seen you before,

Have flirted with you so many a night.

When my heart, ever throbbing, never listless,

Had pined for the moonlight to calm it.

But you were a dainty whiteness

That kissed my brow then.

A gentle, pale flutter

That touched my aching breast.

You are a lonely yellow moon now.

You are ghastly, spectral tonight,

Alone

Behind your prison bars of coconut trees.

That is why

I do not dare take you into my hand

And press you against my cheek

To feel how cold you are.

I am afraid of you, yellow moon.

[connectparanormal]

Ghosts of the Scottish Highlands

For a very long time, the Scottish Highlands, with their expansive landscapes and old castles, have been a region where history and folklore have intertwined. Tales of ghosts and strange occurrences abound among the heather-covered hills and mist-covered lochs, captivating the imaginations of both residents and tourists. These stories of spectral apparitions offer a terrifying glimpse into the past, reflecting the region's rich cultural legacy and turbulent history. There are a large number of castles in the Highlands, and many of them assert that they are haunted by the spirits of people who have lived there. For instance, there are reports of a Spanish soldier's ghost frequently visiting Eilean Donan Castle. This is a relic of the castle's participation in the Jacobite uprisings, which occurred during the Jacobite period. Both visitors and personnel have reported hearing and seeing uncanny sounds and occurrences, adding to the castle's charm and mystique. Battles, betrayals, and terrible events have left an unmistakable mark on the terrain of the Highlands, and stories like these are commonplace throughout the region.

A spectral apparition known as the Green Lady is supposed to haunt a number of castles in the Highlands, including Stirling and Crathes. Her ghost is one of the most famous Highlands residents. People believe her to be the spirit of a maid or noblewoman who suffered a tragic fate. Her appearance often depicts her as a woman in a green dress. Unexplainable chilly drafts and the faint aroma of flowers frequently accompany sightings of her. A sense of melancholy often accompanies her presence. These apparitions serve as emotional recollections of the personal stories and tragedies that transpired within the castle's walls. The Highlands are also the setting for stories about more sinister spirits, such as the terrifying wraiths and banshees mentioned in the legends. It is common practice to represent these spirits as harbingers of doom, giving the impression that they are predicting death or tragedy. The oral traditions of the region have woven their uncanny screams and ghostly appearances into their deeply ingrained belief in the supernatural and the thin veil that separates the living from the dead. The Highlands' natural landscape is steeped in spectral legends, and this is true even beyond the castles. People claim spirits and fairies, beings of legend that blur the line between fact and myth, inhabit the mist that rolls over the hills and glens. Many people believe that the ancient Caledonian Forest, with its twisted trees and secret glades, is a place where the supernatural is able to exert considerable influence. Urban legends claim that travelers have encountered spectral figures on desolate highways or heard sounds carried by the wind without any physical form. These folktales about ghosts have a significant cultural relevance. They serve as a tribute to the region's history, representing both the challenges and triumphs of the people who live there. Generation after generation has passed down the tales, which, despite changing with each new recounting, maintain their essential components. Their purpose is to serve as a type of community memory, preserving the events that had a significant impact on the Highlands and the lives of individuals who had previously lived there.

In recent years, the Scottish Highlands' spectral stories have attracted tourists and paranormal enthusiasts eager to immerse themselves in the strange environment. It is possible for tourists to interact with the past in a profoundly intimate manner through the use of ghost tours and storytelling events, which provide a glimpse into the region's supernatural heritage. This interest has been critical to the preservation of cultural narratives and has helped to ensure that they will continue to be an integral part of the Highlands' identity. The ghosts of the Scottish Highlands embody the soul of a region rich in history and mystery, transcending mere specters. They bring to our attention the everlasting connection that exists between location and narrative, as well as between the present and the past. The spooky legends of the Highlands will continue to haunt the imagination for as long as the mists continue to envelop the hills and the castles continue to remain. These legends will entice us to explore the mysteries concealed within this enchanting region.

[poetrybyjasmine16]

Entomb…….

A love beyond the grave takes hold.

Two souls entwined, forever steeped,

Their story etched in whispers old.

The tombstone stands, a silent witness,

Their love persists, A spectral dance beyond the grave.

The night wind whispers secrets lost,

Carrying echoes of their names.

The rain, a tear from heaven’s eye,

Falls upon the cold, mossy stones and graves.

A ghostly lover in this moonlit glade.

Love beyond the grave, where longing reigns,

A haunting melody that cannot fade.

Two lovers entomb for eternity

Two lovers that not even death can break their love.

A love beyond the grave

Of two lovers entomb for all eternity

In the cold wet ground

Forever together for eternity and beyond.

©️Poetry by Jasmine

®️2024

[thelorehold]

The Shadowbane Relic

Quest Summary:

Deep within the ancient, mist-shrouded forest of Ebonwood, rumors swirl of a lost artifact known as the Shadowbane Relic—a talisman of immense power capable of banishing darkness and revealing hidden truths. As a seasoned ranger known for your keen senses and expertise in navigating perilous environments, you are tasked with embarking on a quest to locate and secure the Shadowbane Relic before it falls into the hands of malevolent forces.

Main Objectives:

1. Explore the Whispering Woods: Begin your journey at the edge of Ebonwood, where whispers of the Shadowbane Relic first surfaced. Navigate through the dense foliage and mystical glades to uncover clues about its whereabouts.

2. Seek Guidance from the Druidic Circle: Traverse to the heart of Ebonwood and consult with the reclusive Druidic Circle. Gain their ancient wisdom and decipher the enigmatic riddles guarding the relic's location.

3. Confront the Shadow Cult: Infiltrate the hidden sanctuary of the Shadow Cult, a secretive faction devoted to harnessing the relic's power for nefarious purposes. Use your tracking skills and stealth to thwart their dark rituals and reclaim the artifact.

Key Challenges:

- Evading spectral guardians and eldritch creatures lurking within Ebonwood's shadowed depths.

- Deciphering cryptic runes and unraveling ancient enchantments protecting the relic.

- Outwitting the cunning traps and illusions set by the Shadow Cult to deter intruders.

Key Locations:

- Ebonwood: The ancient forest cloaked in perpetual twilight, concealing both mystical wonders and perilous secrets.

- Druidic Enclave: A sacred grove hidden deep within Ebonwood, where the Druidic Circle safeguards ancient knowledge and lore.

- Shadow Sanctum: The clandestine lair of the Shadow Cult, nestled within a labyrinthine network of caverns beneath Ebonwood.

Key Characters:

- Ranger Protagonist: The skilled ranger leading the quest to retrieve the Shadowbane Relic and safeguard Ebonwood from darkness.

- Druidic Elders: Wise guardians of Ebonwood's natural balance, offering guidance and mystical aid to aid in the relic's retrieval.

- Shadow Cult Leader: Malevolent mastermind behind the cult's quest for power, wielding dark magic and deception to protect the relic.

Rewards:

- Shadowbane Relic: A potent artifact imbued with the power to dispel darkness and reveal hidden truths.

- Druidic Blessing: Honored recognition and blessings from the Druidic Circle for preserving Ebonwood's sacred balance.

- Ranger's Legacy: Enhanced reputation and respect among fellow rangers and adventurers for successfully safeguarding the realm from dark forces.

Conclusion:

With the Shadowbane Relic reclaimed and the Shadow Cult thwarted, peace and harmony return to Ebonwood. The ranger's valor and resourcefulness become legendary tales among the inhabitants of the forest, ensuring that the shadows of malevolence will never again darken its enchanted glades.

[velvethana]

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) CHAPTER ONE

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BIRDS OF A ⠀ FEATHER ⠀. ⠀”

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

chapter warnings. ♱ (18+) swearing. vomit mention. suggestive dialogue. drug use. slight derealization.

wk. 9.6k ♱

WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

INT. VICE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE (PRESENT)

“Would you say you were close with any of the students?”

The vice principal sits in front of Jongho, scribbling down on a journalists pad. The principal himself seems to be around his 60's, with a cultivated youthful zeal as he tents his fingers thoughtfully.

Jongho doesn’t believe in this fabricated cool in a second yet he allows him to ramble. “I would definitely not say that- not one of those kids gave a good goddamn about Trigonometry, I can tell you that much.”

“Do you keep in touch with any of the survivors?”

The man’s face shows a hint of sorrow— no it seems to lean closer towards the side of offense. “I mean, we're all survivors in a way, don't you think?”

Jongho raises an eyebrow, unmoving. The man must have sensed his distaste for that comment as he awkwardly shifts. “Then what do you think really happened out there?”

The vice principal frowns. “All I know is that what happened was a tragedy, a terrible tragedy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing at the closed door behind Jongho. A slip of vulnerability behind his eyes. Jongho flashes a coaxing smile.

“I probably shouldn't say this, but some of these kids? Eh, no big loss, if we're honest.” Jongho nods in understanding. He doesn’t understand in the slightest. “But those kids were special. They were champions.”

EXT. SKU HIGH FIELD (PAST)

The summer air is hot as the fields littered with various players: all curled lips and freckles with sweat swiped unthinkingly from cheeks and brows. Muscles tensed, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Suddenly there's a breakaway by the team in blue and gold.

The ball expertly moved upfield by their star mid-fielder Taehyun.

He negotiates one defender after another before sending the ball spinning in a long, perfectly-aimed pass.

The fullback and sweeper close in, desperate to intercept but it’s Yeonjun who connects instead, tapping the ball just past the goalie into the net.

Immediately, the other players erupt in high fives and childish butt slaps.

Yeonjun runs downfield and the other teammates give chase, grinning, before swarming him in ecstatic celebration.

Their hearts raced as the realization of the moment finally dawned on them— this was the moment that their team qualified for the National Championship.

Arms carelessly throw around each other, the group jumps up and down as a chorus of cheers rings out.

“BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!”

Team captain, coltish beauty and hero of the hour whether he deserves to be or not. Choi Yeonjun— 18 and right now, as always, he is a God and worshipped accordingly.

Yeonjun casually jogs back into position with a loose and triumphant joy.

EXT. YEONJUN’S HOME — NEXT MORNING

The city of Seoul is a concrete haven to those who lived there. A metropolis known for its vibrant blend of tradition and cutting-edge modernity. The heart of its’ country.

Living in the city is a mess of contradictions. Friends with lies bubbling just underneath the surface hidden with smiles.

Tiredly, Yeonjun stares at himself in the mirror. It’s early morning before he has to rush off back to school and he furiously brushes his teeth.

He spits and rinses, gaze unmoving.

His expression was impassive as he considers himself in the mirror, reaching up to absent-mindedly play with the delicate silver chain dangling just below the hollow of his throat.

Choi Soobin sits idle at the curb in his beat-to-shit Ford Festiva, quietly discontent as he scribbled in the journal in his lap.

He glances out the window at Yeonjun’s picturesque colonial. Red brick, shutters, perfectly manicured lawn. ‘The nice side of town’ it would be most accurately described as.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots movement and narrows his eyes, glancing over to Yeonjun’s window where he spots Chaewon climbing down from a second story window.

She hits the ground, glancing briefly in his direction like a deer in headlights before hopping the neighbor’s fence.

Finally, Yeonjun emerges from the front door, looking utterly perfect as usual. It’s almost irritating to Soobin in a way. Brushing the feeling aside, he quickly stashes the journal in his backpack as Yeonjun climbs in.

“We’re gonna be late.” Soobin says.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he kicks his feet on the dashboard as he’s done hundreds of times. “We’re gonna be fine, relax.”

Soobin gives him an annoyed look, glancing at his feet on the dash before deciding against arguing. When it came to Yeonjun, he found it was best to let him do what he wanted when it came to trivial matters.

Starting the car, Soobin pulls off of the curb and onto the empty residential street to make their way towards the school.

Glancing at Yeonjun, he mumbles.

“This is like the fifth time I'm missing homeroom this month...”

Yeonjun snickered. “Then I guess you better put the pedal to the metal. See what this shit-heap can really do.”

Soobin scoffs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“This shit-heap has a name, thank you very much. And that name is Caruto.”

Yeonjun grins, dropping his feet to lean forward and pat the dash harsh and affectionately.

“Sorry, Uzumaki.”

On the stereo there’s a droll alto of a woman singing some rather boorish lyrics. Yeonjun wrinkles his nose and jabs the button, silencing it.

An off putting pop punk song suddenly blares from the speakers about instead. Innocently, off Soobin’s irritated facial expression Yeonjun’s lips form a pout of realization.

“Oh, were you listening to that?”

Soobin glanced over, a playful look in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“No, it fell into the tape deck and accidentally pressed play.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes but doesn't put the tape back on and hums along to the new song.

“I saw Chaewon…” Soobin paused, voice growing a bit timid afterward.

“What happened to no distractions before Nationals? "Ripping off the band-aid" and all that?” Yeonjun shrugged, rolling down the window to lean on as he began flipping through radio stations again.

“I've decided showing up to college a virgin is a mistake. No offense.” Soobin glares at him from the corner of his eye but lets him continue.

“Plus at this point we've been together for so long. If we’re each other’s firsts then she thinks we’ll be ‘linked forever’. It’s like, poetic, or something.” Soobin scoffed. “Very romantic.”

Flashing him a grin, Yeonjun continued seamlessly. “Oh, that reminds me. I decided on a color palette for our room next year. Blue and red, not too American though. More like midnight campfire under the stars… or something along those lines.”

Soobin glances at Yeonjun, a little uneasy. Avoiding the particular subject of college, something Yeonjun’s been pushing for, he decided to focus on the other topic of conversation at hand.

“Chaewon’s a virgin?”

Not that it was his business or he even particularly seemed to care, Yeonjun gave him a confused look at the unusual pry for information.

“We've been together since freshman year.” Yeonjun rationalized. “It’s the 21st century, it doesn’t matter whether she is or not but I don’t have any reason to believe she’d lie to me.”

Soobin tapped his finger against the steering wheel impatiently. “Yeah, but. I mean, you guys have broken up like… ten thousand times.”

Yeonjun threw the same carefree grin towards Soobin that he always did when it came to his concerns about their relationship. “Never long enough to count.”

Soobin continued driving for a while in silence, Yeonjun looking out the window as he picked at his nail polish.

Suddenly a sign catches Yeonjun’s attention as he glances up as they pass Bonny’s Pizza Pub. He glares at the roadside marquee reading: “We’re proud of our Varsity Baseball Team!”

“The hell is this bullshit?” He asks, scoffing as he waved his hands out the window frantically.

“Those assholes were under .500 all season—“ he pointed directly at it as he swung over the drivers seat, hitting Soobin on the shoulder.

“Soobin, honk at that thing!”

Dragging himself out of his thoughts, Soobin had a clueless look of confusion on his face.

“Huh— Why?”

Yeonjun pouted, reaching across Soobin to do it himself. As the harsh sound of the horn aired, his pout was soon replaced with a cheeky grin.

“So they know they're bullshit!” Soobin laughs as Yeonjun lays on the horn again. “They're just going to think you're like, saluting mediocre baseball.” Soobin argued.

Yeonjun shook his head, “Oh, they'll know. Here, take over.”

Yeonjun leaned out as they drove by, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Try undefeated, bitches! We're going to motherfucking NATIONALS!”

EXT. SCHOOL BACK ALLEYWAY

Beomgyu used all the muscles in his face in the moment trying hard to seem like he didn’t give a shit as he choked down a swig of something from a brown paper bag.

“Ugh.. What is that?”

His friends laugh as he pulls the bottle of Old Wren Scotch and inspects the label.

“And here I thought jocks were supposed to be able to party.” Yunjin teased. Beomgyu continued to cough as he passed her the bottle. “Eat me.”

As Yunjin takes a swig of her own, she enters a coughing fit and begins sputtering. “Oh— that is terrible.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Okay, you know what? You can both go suck a dick.”

Yunjin laughs, hitting him on the shoulder as he defensively snatches the bottle away from her. “And just maybe we will.”

Heeseung is smiling too before his phone goes off. His eyes light up as he checks the number. “Oh shit, it's my cousin...” curiously, Beomgyu tilts his head as he leans against the wall behind him.

“Did he get us the stuff?”

“Yeah, ton—” Before Heeseung can finish, an all too familiar voice calls out. “Hey, burnout! Show us your tits!” Yunjin narrows her eyes at the douchebag leaning out the passenger window of his idling car.

Beomgyu glances uneasily at Yunjin and she looks down, flushing with embarrassment. It wasn’t that she had done anything for this torment— it was the unfortunate experience of being a high school girl.

“C’mon, don't be shy...” sensing her unease, Heeseung nudged her in a comforting motion before passing the bottle to Yunjin.

“I mean, shit! If you really wanna see em!”

Heeseung grips the hem of his shirt with one hand. The guys in the car laugh as he starts to do a ‘sexy’ dance.

Seemingly satisfied, they start up the car to drive away.

Yunjin bites the inside of her cheek, making a decision. She tightens her grip on the bottle and chucks it at the receding car with all his strength.

The car slams on the brakes as the bottle smashes against its rear window. Suddenly screeching in reverse, Heeseung narrows his eyes at Yunjin. “The fuck, Yunjin? They're gonna kick our ass, not yours!”

Yunjin shrugs, crossing her arms. “Only if they catch you. Show them how fast the Yellowjackets can run!”

All three share a look before hauling ass as fast as they can. Beomgyu can’t help the laughs that come out, causing his friends to laugh along with him sprinting down the alley.

EXT. SKU HIGH HALLWAY

As students make their way to first period in a preponderance of unisex flannel, there’s a teacher on hall-duty. She's doing her best to look authoritative. Her results are middling.

“Slow it down, Mr. Kim. There are rules against running in the hall. I assume. I haven't seen any official documentation, but the other teachers seem pretty against it, so...” her voice trails off as she turns a corner to find Assistant Coach Choi San.

Early graduate and alumni, he landed a job as Assistant coach fairly easily. His good looks seem to have an obvious impact on her as he gives a friendly smile.

“Hey, Arin! Did you talk to Coach?”

“Who?” Arin pauses, tapping her chin. “Oh, Baekho. Yeah.”

San tilts his head to the smile, smile unmoving. He has a kind and calming presence that leaves her feeling unguarded, an effect he seems to have on mostly everyone.

“So... are you in?”

Arin laughs nervously, “Well, it's like I said, I don't really know anything about soccer.” San opens his mouth to counter but she raises her hand to stop him. “Like at all.”

“C’mon think of it as a paid vacation… we’ll have fun. Besides, we already qualified for Nationals. I think we're good on the soccer front.”

As if suddenly realizing Arin’s lips separate with a sigh of air.

“Oh, you’re going too?”

San raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. The uniform he’s wearing doesn’t help to hide his muscles much at all. He continues as if it’s obvious. “I'm the assistant coach. Wait… why do you think I dress like this?”

This is new information to Arin but considering how good looking he is, she supposes it makes sense. Finally, she gives into his pushing with a small smile.

“Well, I guess if it would make the school board happy to have a girl there. I mean.. woman. I-I mean.. go Jackets! Haha..”

San grins, raising his fist up teasingly to bump it against her own. “Buzz, buzz, buzz! That's great, really. Welcome aboard.”

She’s unclear if he’s purposely flirting and hopes that it’s just in his nature to act this way. “Thanks. Maybe you could teach me some of the basics? I probably should know some stuff…”

San nodded, the creases by his eyes irritatingly adorable. “Yeah, sure. Can you come to practice this afternoon?”

Arin frowns. “I have a make-up bio lab. Myung Jaehyun, the whole Lyme’s disease situation. But we could grab a drink tonight?”

A look of surprised crossed San’s features before he nodded in agreement. Clapping her hands together, Arin hummed. “It's a date! I mean, not a date, date. It's a plan. A friendly agreement.”

INT. COED SOCCER TEAM LOCKER ROOM

The locker room was irritating to say the least as the sound of doors slamming shut and idle chatter rang about.

Leehan stares miserably at the mirror as Yeonjun paints a bee on his cheek. Around them, there's a flurry of activity as the rest of the team changes into uniforms and applies face paint.

“Leehan. You okay?” The boy nods and Yeonjun gives him a brotherly smile.

“It’s just a pep rally. All we have to do is run in and then stand there looking good. Honestly, I think the whole point is just to give freshman something to fantasize about later.” Leehan frowns, giving Yeonjun a haughty look as he snickers.

“I'm not nervous.” Leehan begins. Before he can continue, Y/N peeks her head in through the door. “Yeonjun?”

They look over to see her leaning in the doorway. “Coach wants to see you in his office.”

As Yeonjun passes off the brush to one of his teammates, he gives Y/N a friendly smile as he gently moves past her. Leehan pouts as Kai, his terminally cheerful teammate finishes painting his bee.

“I'm the only freshman who got asked, you know. And now it doesn't even matter. It's so unfair.”

Leehan pouts, scandalized by the sheer injustice. At the other end of the mirrors, Taehyun rolls his eyes with Beomgyu and Soobin.

“My suit was gonna be amazing. I mean— I even bought us matching accessories.” Kai gave him a smile, voice almost diplomatic as he tried to lend him some empathy their other teammates weren’t extending.

“Well, at least you can wear it next year.” Leehan gives him a withering look before speaking with total sincerity.

“You don’t get it Kai, because nobody asked you.”

Kai nods, trying to look sympathetic. “You’re done.” Despite his attempt, there was a hint of annoyance in his sweet tone.

Leehan looked in the mirror and smiled before walking off. Y/N pushed herself off of the doorway as he walked out past her, groaning as she looked into the mirror to touch up her makeup.

“Jesus Christ. Maybe someone should tell Prince Charming over there to worry less about prom and more about not fucking up at Nationals.” Taehyun crossed his arms, watching as she fixed up her hair.

“If he plays like he did at States...” As Taehyun assessed Leehan in his mind, he shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen. I’ll handle it.” Raising an eyebrow at him through the mirror, Y/N smiled as she widened her eyes dramatically. “Ooh, scary.”

INT. COACH SIM’S OFFICE

Trophies and equipment were riddled within cinderblock walls of the Coach’s office. It was much less picturesque compared to the rest of the school.

On the desk a photo sat of him, his wife and his two sons. To Yeonjun, everything looks like it smells like coffee and cigarettes.

Coach Sim gestures to the chair in front of his desk. Lighting a Marlboro, he glances up at Yeonjun.

“I'm going to talk to you like an adult. Is that okay with you?”

Yeonjun gets the sense that it's a favorite question of his by the tone he took. Cautiously, he nods.

“Do you know why I made you team captain this year?”

Yeonjun tries to project an air of mature humility as he goes to answer but is cut off. “Obviously it isn't because you're our best player.”

Even though he knew that he agreed deep down, he bit his tongue as he waited for him to finish.

“Soobin’s faster, Kai’s got you on footwork by a mile, and Taehyun, well, he could have a real future in the sport, maybe.”

Letting out a sigh he wasn’t aware he had been keeping in, Yeonjun decided to pry. “Is this... a pep talk?”

“Yeonjun, you possess something nobody else on this team has: influence. When it gets tough out there, these kids are going to be looking for someone to guide them. Can you handle that?”

There’s a beat as Yeonjun considers. It’s a heavy duty to take on but as the oldest of his team, he decides that it should be him to shoulder the burden.

Yeonjun nods, the picture of determination. “Don't worry, Coach. I've got this.”

EXT. SKU GYM

The boys baseball team stands lined up behind the vice principal at a podium on the gym floor. “Alright, let's hear it for the boys! Let's give them a hand.”

The bleachers are packed with students, exhibiting the various levels of enthusiasm you'd expect from a mandatory pep rally. Supportive shouts from the other jocks, eye rolls from the burnouts and everything in between.

The principal sighs, “Thanks, guys. You did your best.”

At the edge of the court, Coach Sim stands with Assistant Coach San and Sunoo, the team’s equipment manager. “Now, our next act needs no introduction. Let’s all make some noise for your Soccer Champions!”

As music starts to blare from the speakers, the crowd goes— well, not wild, exactly. It is high school soccer. But it’s okay, because Sunoo is fired enough for everybody. Pumping his fist, WOO-ing for all he’s worth to motivate his friends.

Coach San glances at him, amused, as the team jogs onto the court. Each member exhuding all confidence and grace. Like storming gladiators in a way, Sunoo’s enthusiasm seems contagious as the applause builds, feet rumbling against wooden bleachers.

“BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!”

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

Pink strains of dawn are just starting to peek through the dark silhouette of trees. There’s the sound of rope, pulled taught against wood, a rasping creak.

The runner’s corpse now hanging upside down by the rope binding his ankles. Snowflakes drift through the early light as the hunter and a new figure, the butcher, work to hoist the body from a tree branch.

After a beat of silence, another figure— the overseer— joins them. There’s a moment, before they nod their approval.

There’s splashes of blood hitting the snow, ruining its’ delicate state as the butcher slits the runner’s throat with a hunting knife. Bleeding him out like a prize buck.

EXT. SKU HIGH COURTYARD

As Soobin exits the school, he approaches Beomgyu, Y/N and Taehyun who seemed to be conferring in hushed tones on their way to practice.

“This is what we've been working for all season. You really want to take that chance?” Taehyun asked, kicking at the ground.

Beomgyu scoffed, “Yeah. 'Cause I'm not a fucking asshole.” Doe eyes wide and alert, Soobin pulled on the strap of his backpack. “What are you guys talking about?”

They all glance towards Leehan, messing around playfully with some other freshmen on the other side of the courtyard.

“Leehan.” Y/N says simply. Soobin’s lips press into a frown, “What about him?”

“Did you black out at States? He totally choked.” Taehyun says. Beomgyu sighed. Taehyun’s competitive nature for sport was no secret but he still couldn’t help but find his annoyance harsh.

“He’s a freshman, Tyun.” Taehyun just frowned. “He’s a liability.” Soobin glances in Yeonjun’s direction uncertainly. Talking with Chaewon and her friends, he seems completely oblivious to his own teams’ conspiring.

“What do you want to do about it?” Soobin asked wearily. Beomgyu gives Taehyun a look. “Go ahead. Tell him.”

“He can't screw up if he doesn't get the ball.” He said simply. Soobin frowns. “You want to freeze him out?”

Beomgyu scoffs, “We'd basically be a man down. At Nationals.” Although he’s trying to rationalize, it just seems to add more tension to the situation.

“At least we'd know what we're working with.” Taehyun says. “I don't know, Tyun. He kinda sucks, but... it doesn't feel right.” Y/N says, crossing her arms as she looks over toward Leehan.

Beomgyu scoffed, expecting more defense from her. “That's because it's bullshit.” Taehyun scoffs this time. What he wants to say is fuck you but rather than that, he decides to bite his tongue. “Oh yeah? What's your plan, then?”

Beomgyu shook his head, “I dunno, play like a fucking team and win? It's worked so far.”

The tension in the group was clear, Y/N picking at her nails with her eyes cast downward. Soobin seemed to pick up on her anxiety and offered her a squeeze on the shoulder.

Taehyun and Beomgyu didn’t butt heads as often as the rest of them but when they did, it was obvious to stay clear.

“Everything works until it doesn't.” Taehyun argued. “And for the record, you smell like a wino. Get your shit together Gyu.”

Beomgyu takes a step towards him and glances at Y/N, then changes his mind. “You know what? Fuck this.” Beomgyu stalks off, shoulder checking Taehyun as he leaves. Soobin lingers back fully considering what Taehyun was proposing.

“Yeonjun’s not gonna like it.” He said. Taehyun huffed. “Then we probably shouldn't tell him.” Soobin hesitates before nodding.

EXT. SKU HIGH SOCCER FIELD (PAST)

Students in various athletic— soccer track— tread lightly as they head out to their respective fields.

Taehyun, Soobin and Y/N arrive just behind Beomgyu as Yeonjun finishes leading the rest of the team through a series of stretches.

Coach San clapped his hands together to get their attention. “Okay, circle up!” There's a short whistle blast as Coach San jogs onto the field.

“JV's gonna help us out with a little scrimmage today. Coach Sim had to take care of a family thing, so grab a pinny from Sunoo and let's get started.”

“Excuse me, Coach San? Shouldn't we say the lords’ prayer?” Jungwon’s voice asked gently and Niki groaned, leaning back on the field with a ‘thud’.

It wasn’t that Jungwon was particularly annoying or pushy about his religion, he was just certainly pert and could get on your last nerve. A few members of the team roll their eyes and glance over as Coach San expectantly who just chuckles.

“It's.. just a scrimmage, Jungwon.” Off his insistent look, he sighs and nods towards him. “..Sure. Knock yourself out.”

The team reluctantly forms a circle, heads bowed, hands joined as Jungwon recited the lords’ prayer.

Regardless of what anyone on the team thought, these circles had became a tradition at this point due to his sheer persistence and belief in them.

The scrimmage began shortly thereafter and as it progresses, Soobin dribbles upfield, easily maneuvering around the JV defender.

Leehan races open on his left but Soobin ignores him, opting for a trickier pass to Kai. When Beomgyu darts in and redirects the ball to Leehan who fumbles, then panicking as the defense closes in, sending a wild pass out of bounds.

As Coach San’s whistle blows, Beomgyu throws Soobin and Taehyun a defiant look of disappointment.

Soobin and Taehyun work together to keep Leehan out of the play throughout the game as Beomgyu undermines their efforts every chance he gets. Yeonjun shoots Soobin a look as to ask ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Taehyun gestures for a time out and jogs over to Coach San. As hard as he focused, Beomgyu couldn’t hear their conference, but he got the gist when Taehyun strips off his red pinny. He hands it over to the JV sweeper playing against Leehan, switching sides and sticks his tongue out teasingly at Beomgyu.

“C'mon, Varsity. Your own defense wants to see you step it up. And frankly, that makes two of us.” San clapped his hands together encouragingly, “Let's see some hustle!”

San blows the whistle and JV kicks off, this time with Taehyun playing for the other side. He’s all over Leehan: crowding, holding and talking shit per usual.

There’s another pass to Leehan, when Taehyun slide tackles him hard. As the ball rolls out of bounds, and the whistle blows foul Yeonjun finally voices his irritation.

Jogging up to Taehyun, he grabs his shoulder. “What's your problem? Are you- okay? Did something happen?” Playing dumb, Taehyun jerks his shoulder out of his grip. “What?”

Confused, Yeonjun pouts. “Just… ease up on the kid.” Soobin watches the interaction, then works his way closer to Taehyun as the players get ready for the inbound throw.

“C'mon, Tyun. This isn't helping.” Taehyun shrugs. “If we can't freeze him out, he’s gonna have to learn to play under pressure.” He rationalizes.

Before Soobin can respond, the coach’s whistle blows and play resumes. Taehyun’s strategy is set in action as he stays on Leehan taking a beating, frustrated. Only the harder Taehyun goes, the more the team realizes his strategy is working.

Leehan grimaces in concentration, negotiating the ball around Taehyun with a slick cruyff turn. In the corner, Leehan shoulders Taehyun hard to clear space for a pass and he chuckles in disbelief.

Leehan sprints to get open, Taehyun hot on his heels. Soobin fires a long lofted pass. Leehan and Taehyun are both vying for the ball as it arcs high in the air when Leehan jumps for a header and Taehyun instinctively juts his foot out, catching his ankle as he comes back down.

There's a sickening, audible snap as Leehan’s leg seemingly collapses. Buckling and breaking in a compound fracture that is a total peversion of the human form.

There's a beat of silence— an eerie stillness— as Leehan collapses on the field. Jagged bone puncturing the skin, blood spreading, soaking into the grass as he screams before all hell breaks loose.

Y/N screams as someone else begins to cry— Kai covers his mouth to try and swallow the nausea that arose. Taehyun backs away, stunned, horrified, as Coach San rushes to Leehan’s side.

Despite the fact he should keep his cool, he lets it slip out of sheer disbelief of the situation. “Holy fuck.” Trying to keep his shit together, he takes a deep breath. “Just— We need an ambulance. There's a phone in the coach’s office. Sunoo! Go.”

Sunoo nods, like a soldier in battle for some reason, before taking off. San watches for a beat before pulling himself back to reality. “Shit. Just— keep him calm! Don’t move him.”

He takes off after Sunoo as Soobin approaches Leehan, hyperventilating on the ground. He looks around, trying to find Yeonjun. He finds him pale, wide-eyed, frozen in place.

Knowing he should do something but hesitating, unsure of what to do. As if one wrong move could shake the entire balance of the team.

“Yeonjun.”

Soobin calls for him but he doesn’t move. His eyes are shot as he stares, seemingly in a bit of shock. Steeling himself, Soobin gets down on the ground, trying not to look at the leg and all the blood. Taking Leehan’s hand he tried to muster up a comforting smile, though his face was contorted in discomfort.

“Hey, look at me, Leehan. You're going to be fine. I'm right here.”

Beomgyu quickly joined him on the ground, dropping to his knees. “We're all right here. Okay?”

Soobin glances at him, grateful. As Leehan looks up at them and nods, shaky, he was clearly in shock.

INT. COED SOCCER TEAM LOCKER ROOM

There’s near silence as the team changes. Everyone is still a little shell shocked from what happened. An edgy feeling. Something combustible in the air.

Taehyun is sitting by himself. Everyone else is avoiding eye contact except Beomgyu, who's giving him a death glare.

Yeonjun looks around at his team before taking a deep breath.

“I know we're all worried about Leehan. But… I really think we need to focus on the positive right now! It might not be as bad as it looks.”

Beomgyu scoffs at Yeonjun’s blind optimism.

“You could see his fucking bones, Yeonjun. I'm pretty sure it's exactly as bad as it looks!”

Kai covered his mouth and turned away, “Oh god. I think I'm gonna puke again...” Beomgyu put his hand on his back gently.

Yeonjun glares at Beomgyu, unused to his authority being questioned. Trying to recover the situation, he sighs.

“I mean we’re still a team. And we still have each other, okay? And…” Jungwon swallowed. “We have faith.”

Y/N groaned, rolling onto her side as she pushed herself to sit up on the bench. “This wasn't exactly a big win for the power of prayer, Wonnie.”

Jungwon gave a nervous smile, “the world works in mysterious wa-” There’s a loud bang as Beomgyu slams his locker, giving Soobin a particularly nasty look as he storms out.

“Okay… guess he’s not up for a theological discussion.” Yeonjun shoots Y/N a look and she simply shrugs.

INT. SOOBIN'S HOUSE

Soobin and Yeonjun sat in a cramped attic room in a ramshackle house. Faded wallpaper, and soccer trophies littering the shelves.

“I don't know, it feels weird to just go like nothing happened...” Soobin said. Yeonjun sat putting on concealer at a small light-up vanity. Admiring his reflection, he made sure it was blended perfectly to cover anything up.

Satisfied, his attention shifts to the photos on the desk— him and Soobin at various ages. A talent show. The beach. Halloween.

“I mean, it's not like skipping the party is going to un-fuck Leehan’s leg. Plus, it's tradition. And we're already missing prom...”

Yeonjun sits back, fingering the chain around his neck. Then, bored, he starts opening vanity drawers. He pulls out an old prayer card of the Virgin Mary, turning it over.

“Oh my god, remember when you tried to get your mom to let you become Catholic? What did you call it?” Soobin, still shaken from the afternoon ruffles his hair in the mirror as he fixes his shirt over his jeans.

“My ‘spiritual awakening.’” Yeonjun snickers, “You were such a weird kid. What were you, like, nine?” Then, Soobin walks out into the room. “Eleven. I liked the saints. They were all so tragic.”

Yeonjun gives the basic outfit a once-over. Shaking his head no. As Soobin heads back into the closet, Yeonjun begins. “Lucky you had me to save you from yourself... You know, Kazuha’s going to be at the party tonight.”

Soobin gave Yeonjun a confused look, “Um, okay..” Yeonjun hums. “She asked Chaewon to ask me if you were gonna be there...” Soobin reemerges in the same jeans with a new white button up.

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “Definitely not.” Soobin crosses his arms. “Kazuha? Really?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “What? She’s basically Chaewon’s best friend. I just thought you might want to know she asked about you... plus she’s pretty quiet and respectable. Opposites attract or whatever.”

Soobin stares at himself in the mirror as Yeonjun begins to toss a stress ball up in the air, catching it and repeating. “So I’m not respectable?” Yeonjun snickers but Soobin just glares at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t need a girlfriend right now.” There’s a snap in his tone and Yeonjun looks over confused. “Jesus, I wasn’t saying you had to marry the girl.” Soobin doesn’t respond, trying to find another outfit that suites his friends’ standards.

“Whatever— are you ready, or what? C'mon, we're gonna be late...”

EXT. WOODS - NIGHT

Deep in the woods. Moving towards the glow of a fire, somewhere amongst the trees was a gathering of students. Hundreds, maybe.

A souped-up 4runner barrels in, a dented keg secured in the back. Teenage boys jump out to heave the keg to the ground as several other cars pull up alongside.

Soobin huffed as he realized they’re at a typical teenage hang-out spot. More specifically, the site of Kim Chaewon's famous annual kegger.

Moving through the crowd, Yeonjun and Soobin stood red solo cups in hand hanging with Chaewon and her friends. Yeonjun hits a bong as the girls laugh, Chaewon leaning into him to playfully mess up his hair.

There’s a few jealous stares from unknown sources as Yeonjun holds court, putting on a show. He turns away from Chaewon and grabs Soobin’s hand to insist he takes a hit.

Resistant, Soobin instead chugs his beer. Heeseung makes his way past the scene, finding Beomgyu and Yunjin. “You guys. My cousin hooked us up.”

Beomgyu’s eyes light up with a sparkle. “You got it?” Heeseung grins, holding out his hand to reveal several tiny squares of paper.

“I have six words, my friend. Lucy. In. The. Sky. With. Diamonds.” Yunjin rolled her eyes, laughing. “That is, like, literally the least efficient way to say that.” As Beomgyu snatches one of the tabs from his palm, Yunjin grabbed his hand.

“Dude. Don't you guys leave for the Olympics or whatever tomorrow?” Beomgyu paused, swallowing the lump in his throat as he thought about leaving. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

“Yeah. We do.” He gave them both a look, daring either to say anything else. Yunjin shrugs as if it’s not her problem. Beomgyu takes the hit and Heeseung laughs.

Beomgyu closes his eyes for a moment, letting it dissolve as Heeseung’s arm finds a home on his shoulder.

“We are gonna ace that shit, my friend. We are champions.”

Somehow through the buzz of the party, Soobin found himself watching Yeonjun and Chaewon from a distance. A feeling of uneasiness and irritation at how easy it was for them to resume their relationship. His expression was unreadable.

Soobin rolls his eyes in disgust, then drains his cup. Heading for the keg to get another, he stumbles a bit only to find Taehyun already waiting for a beer.

Taehyun doesn’t notice him getting on line behind him at first but Soobin makes sure he does. “I admire your resilience, Tyun. It can't be easy knowing you fucking crippled someone today.”

Taehyun turned, eyes wide for a moment before realizing how completely shit-faced his friend was. Frowning for a moment, he hummed before giving him a forced smile.

“Cool. Good talk.” He starts to walk away, when Soobin shakes his head. “Just admit you did it on purpose.” Taehyun scoffs, turning toward him. “Excuse me?

Soobin pouted, stumbling to a halt as Taehyun walked back up to him. “You heard me.” Taehyun shook his head. “You know me, I wouldn’t have done that on purpose. I’m not heartless.”

Soobin threw his cup on the ground to emphasize his point. “You’re a fucking sociopath!” People started watching now, the argument garnering the attention of a few of their teammates as they head over.

Although the words hurt, Taehyun didn’t bother to argue back. The guilt lingering in him refused to let him defend himself. “You're wasted, Soobin.”

Kai makes his way over and puts a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, ready to lead him away. “Hey, Soobin, take it easy...” he shrugs it off.

“Good news, you guys. We don't have to worry about the Leehan problem anymore. Taehyun fixed it for us!” Jungwon’s eyes widened and he looked at Jay who shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“What's he talking about?”

Beomgyu walked over, jaw locked as he clenched his teeth. “He’s talking about Taehyun’s little plan.”

Taehyun scoffs, “Please. Since when do you give a shit anyway? Don't you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck, or something?”

Soobin jumped to Beomgyu’s defense. “Hey. Don't talk to him that way.” Beomgyu laughed. “Oh, fuck off, Soobin. I don't need you to defend me anymore. Last I checked, you were fine with the whole ‘freeze him out' strategy...”

Jungwon scratched his cheek, look of confusuon only worsening. “Seriously, what are you guys talking about?”

Soobin and Beomgyu’s voices boomed out in unison, “Shut the fuck up, Jungwon!”

Stepping forward, Niki chimed in. “Don’t talk to him like that, what the fuck?”

As the situation continues to escalate, Yeonjun finally seems to catch wind of the brewing fight. He frowns, heading off in the direction of the keg. Only to confront a full-on verbal barrage, everyone yelling at once.

Jungwon shot a glare at Kai. “Let me finish! LET ME-” Kai ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You interrupted me!” Soobin leaned into Taehyun’s face, pointing at him. “Go ahead and say that again, dickhead.”

An even bigger crowd gathered and Kazuha twirled a strand of hair around her finger, Chaewon standing idly by her. “Boys are so catty, aren’t they?” She hummed. “So aggro…”

Yeonjun storms in, taking in the situation at hand. “That’s it.” Thrusting himself into the middle of the maelstrom and extending his hands between Soobin and Taehyun, he shouted.

“Enough!”

Everyone stops as Yeonjun crosses his arms, glaring. Then, turning on his heels he motions for them to follow.

“Yellowjackets, WITH ME. NOW.”

The rest of them watch as he stomps off into the woods beyond the bonfire. Clearly expecting them to follow suit. There’s a beat of silence, before one after one, they do.

Soobin is the last to hold out. As he reluctantly follows the rest of the team. Yeonjun is pacing in front of his teammates like a body-glittered Patton. Sizing them up. A few look a little drunk. All of them look fucking miserable. Beomgyu, in particular, looks unsteady, as the acid starts to kick in.

“I don't know what the fuck that was, but I do know that it's over. We're about to go to Nationals, you guys. Nationals. And based on what I'm looking at right now, we might as well not even bother getting on that plane.”

He thinks for a second. “Alright, everybody line up… I'm fucking serious. LINE UP.” Almost as a reflex to his tone, they do. Then, a small smile playing on his lips, he continues. “I'm going to talk to you like adults. Is that okay with you?”

A few smile as they recognize the coach’s catchphrase. “Coach is always telling us that you can't win without three things. Talent. Trust. And respect.” Yeonjun taps his foot impatiently.

“I mean, Coach also talks a lot of bullshit, but I'm pretty sure he's right about that. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I want each of you to go down this line and say one nice- true- thing about every other person on this team.”

The others exchange looks. “Is he fucking serious?” Niki asked.

Dragging his feet into line, Jay threw the rest of them a confused look after having missed a majority of the argument.

“What is this, fucking Boy Scouts?” Yeonjun ignored the comment with a slight tsk before continuing, “Who wants to go first?”

Nobody makes eye contact before finally. “I’ll go, Yeonjun.” Solemnly, Jungwon steps out and walks to the end of the line. Starting with Taehyun.

“Taehyun, you are beautiful in the eyes of the lord.” Taehyun lets out an exasperated exhale before Jungwon steps over to Kai who gave him a smug smile.

“Kai, you are beautiful in the-” Y/N groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Oh my god this kid…” Yeonjun sighed, clapping his hands together.

“He took one religious class for the grade point and they brainwashed him… free my man Jungwon.”

“Jungwon, fall back!” Jungwon falls back into line between Jay and Niki as Yeonjun puts his hands on his hips, foot tapping impatiently.

“Fuck. Fine, I'll go first.” He walks over to Taehyun and looks him directly in the eye. “Kang Taehyun, you have more fight in you than anyone I've ever known. I’m inspired by your determination and hard work.”

He then steps over to Kai.

“Huening Kai, your smile makes me feel happy, every time I see it. You’re the undeniable force that holds us all together.”

Next, Jungwon.

“Jungwon, I truly admire your faith and kindness. You’re insanely skilled for your age and I can’t wait to see you take over this team.”

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, pulling at the skin inside anxiously as his head spins, the acid worsening the effects. “Beomgyu, I love that you don't care what anybody else thinks. You're more completely yourself than anyone else I know and you are incredibly warm, even if you don’t think so.”

Glancing down the line, Yeonjun’s heart swells. “Y/N. Your ambition inspires me. I have no doubt you're gonna take over the world some day.”

Kai snickered, “She's also deadly at beer pong.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands together, jumping excitedly at the comment. “Well, go ahead then. Tell her. C'mon, guys. If we do this one at a time, we'll be here all night...”

Rolling their eyes with affection, the members shyly start to turn to each other. Turning to Jungwon, Kai tapped his elbow with his finger. “Jungwon, you... have really shiny hair?” Raising an eyebrow, Jungwon gave him a confused smile.

Beomgyu swallowed down the dryness in his throat, clearing it quickly before looking Y/N in the eyes. “Y/N L/N, you never talk shit unless someone really deserves it.“ he paused for a moment, eyes traveling to the top of her head before he chuckled. “I… also really like your pilgrim hat.”

Y/N who was— definitely not wearing a hat— had a look of confusion before shaking her head, deciding to accept the strange compliments and move on. “Um… Okay..?”

Then, as Soobin approaches Taehyun, he takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry for what I said before. About you-”

Taehyun shakes his head, nudging Soobin. The two grew apart in recent months but there was still the remnants of a connection.

“I didn't, you know. Mean to hurt him.” Soobin isn’t sure if he believes him but he could tell that, if nothing else, Taehyun wanted it to be true.

Soobin nods when Yeonjun approaches. “Hey guys. Are we cool?” Soobin looks at him and shrugs. “I dunno. You still haven't said anything nice about me.”

Taehyun chuckles as he goes over to Kai who was waving him over. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, voice laced with sarcasm. “Choi Soobin, you're a fucking laugh riot.”

The smile on his face falters slightly at Soobin’s pout, shaking his head. “Okay, fine.” Yeonjun grabs Soobin’s hand.

“You're a clumsy dancer, you've got seriously questionable taste in music, and you can't hold your liquor for shit... but you’re also the smartest person I know and the only one who's always been there for me. You're the best friend I've ever had.”

His voice was laced with sincerity, “You know that, right?”

Quietly, Soobin agreed. “Yeah. I know.”

“And you should have told me about Taehyun and Leehan.” Soobin nods, he knows that too. Or at least, doesn't want to fight about it. The fight's gone out of him for now.

“Now, c'mon. Let's get you home.”

Yeonjun tugs on Soobin’s hand, wishing it felt better than it did. It felt off compared to any other time he had, it felt colder.

As the party winds down. Empty cups and beer cans remain, a few holdout couples still making out. The bonfire is burned down to embers now as Beomgyu continued tripping balls.

Looking around at his friends and classmates, their faces strange, distorted. Wrong. He turns away, afraid. Suddenly spotting Y/N standing alone amongst the trees, at the edge of darkness. Watching.

“Y/N?” His voice comes out hushed, confused.

Y/N’s face also begins to shift and warp. Beomgyu squeezes his eyes shut, regretting putting himself in a bad trip. When he reopens them, Y/N is gone off somewhere. He focuses his eyes onto the dying flames of the fire.

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

Another bonfire, in another place, at another time. Meat is roasting over makeshift spit, fat hissing as it drips into the flames... a set of hands works on a hatchet and hunting knife over flesh and bone.

There’s the sound of faint humming, the person lost in the task at hand. High and clear.

A naggingly familiar, haunting melody.

'It seems no one can help me now, I'm in too deep, there's no way out. This time I have really lead myself astray...'

EXT. BACKSTREETS (PAST)

As Soobin rides in the front alone, Yeonjun sits with Chaewon in the back, leaning her forehead against the cool pane of the window. They ride in silence, as the radio plays.

“Turn on here, it's faster.” Soobin glances back in the rearview mirror, annoyed. “Chaewon’s house is on the way.” Yeonjun groaned, kicking the back of his seat. “C'mon. I'm past curfew.”

Chaewon chuckled. “I have a curfew too, you know.” Yeonjun gave her a sheepish smile, “Yeah, but. I mean, you know what my parents are like.”

Soobin sighs, there's no point in arguing. Yeonjun gets what Yeonjun wants. As Chaewon rolls down her window, letting the cool night air wash over her face, she sighs.

Soobin cuts the headlights and pulls quietly up to the curb, watching as Yeonjun and Chaewon climb out and exchange a quick hug before Chaewon gets in the front— an end of night ritual they've repeated countless times.

As they pull away, Chaewon gives a quick wave from the window flashing that patented, easy the-world-is-ours grin, for a moment, still and beautiful and perfect in the moonlight.

Soobin and Chaewon- now in front- drive alone down a dark two-lane road in a remote, wooded part of town.

“Pull over.” Chaewon says.

“Are you gonna puke? Don't puke in my car, Chaewon.” Soobin’s voice is laced with disgust and Chaewon rolls her eyes.

“Just pull over. Here.”

Soobin turns down an access road. As the car rolls to a stop, there’s a beat as the two both sit, staring out the windshield in silence.

“I thought we weren't doing this again.” Soobin said, breaking the silence. Chaewon frowns, “I’m not. Clearly.”

Soobin gives her a confused look and she rolls her eyes. “I just wanted to talk about it. It was a mistake. You know that right?”

Soobin scoffed at the insinuation that it— he was a mistake. “Yeah. Chaewon, I know.” She frowns. “I don’t want it to ruin our friendship— or yours. We both just slipped up, you know?”

Soobin shook his head, leaning into the palm of his hand. “We don’t need to talk about it.” He said, starting the car again.

VARIOUS LOCATIONS - NIGHT

Yeonjun folds his clothes peefectly, tucking them away into his suitcase.

Soobin holds a piece of paper, an official letterhead from his university of choice. Shaking his head, he stuffs the letter in a desk drawer. Then, picking up his suitcase, he takes one look at his childhood bedroom. As though sensing he’s leaving something— some part of him— behind.

Taehyun waits by himself as a taxi pulls into his driveway, struggling to load his own luggages.

Beomgyu sighs, smoking a joint out of the window of his cramped bedroom.

Kai finished packing away his clothes, his younger sister helping him zip up the suitcase. His older sister leaned against the door frame teasing him about having grown up.

Y/N sat staring at the table as her family maid served her breakfast. The chef’s kitchen was enormous her eyes trained on all marble and stainless steel. As the maid pointedly hands her a bottle of loxipene, she watches carefully like a hawk Y/N shakes out a pill and swallows it with juice.

Heeseung looks at himself in the mirror, pulling at his dilated eyes and snickering slightly before shaking his head. Suitcase all prepped and pre-ready, he flicks the bathroom light off.

Jay tiredly tosses his suitcase by his door, throwing himself down onto his bed with an exhausted heave.

Coach Sim loads the trunk of his station wagon with luggage as his two sons, Jake and Sunghoon climb in the back to go.

Sunoo sits at the edge of his pool, kicking his feet in the water with an impassive expression.

Jungwon sat on his knees, saying one last prayer to the small painting on his bedroom wall.

Niki goes into his living room to find his mom passed out on the couch, a bottle of scotch on the coffee table. Rolling his eyes, he grabs the car keys as she starts to awake.

INT. CHARTERED PLANE

The team are together now as they make their way onboard.

The students excitement is palpable as they take in the interior of the plane. It looks pretty much like any other plane except this time: it only belongs to them.

Beomgyu laughed in disbelief, “Wicked.”

Kai leaned toward Y/N excitedly, “I can't believe your Dad paid for a private plane!”

Y/N shrugged, “It's pretty much his only form of parenting, but I guess I'll take it.”

Jay and Heeseung chuckled before chiming in together in a sing-song tone. “Thank you, Mr. L/N!”

Coach Sim shakes his head, making his way down the aisle. “Alright, hustle up and take a seat. We've got a long flight.”

San stands helping Sunoo and Jungwon load their carry-ons into the overhead compartment. Assiduously pretending he doesn't see Arin approaching down the aisle, looking hungover. She gives him a sheepish smile before squeezing past and heading down the aisle.

A few rows back, Soobin and Yeonjun settled into adjoining seats. Soobin looked pale.

Yeonjun nudged him, eyes holding a look of concern. “You alright? They probably have a puke bag, if you need it.”

Soobin nodded, though he didn’t respond. He didn’t necessarily have a fear of flying but for some reason— this particular flight left him uneasy. He chalked it up to the tension building up to their game.

As he glances around the cabin nervously, Yeonjun smiles, rummages in his bag. Pulling out a balled-up tissue tucked deep into one of the inner pockets, he holds it out.

Soobin gives him a confused look.

“Remember when you came with my family to Jeju in second grade? You cried the whole flight.”

Soobin scoffed. “In my defense I was like 8, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun opens the tissue, revealing two pale blue valium pills. “I swiped these from my mom's medicine cabinet. She didn’t even notice.”

Soobin didn’t answer as he gently took the pills in his hand. “I know, I’m the best. And here.”

Yeonjun takes off his chain, linking it around Soobin’s neck instead. “It's a good luck charm. Now nothing can touch you.”

Soobin shakes his head as he swallows the pills, giving Yeonjun a look of genuine appreciation.

The team continues laughing, gossiping and singing. They’re all too swept up in their excitement over the adventure ahead.

As the sound of the plane getting ready to take off gets louder, Soobin’s nails dig into the arm rest of his seat. Yeonjun glances at him, leaning his head on his shoulder in comfort.

There’s a few playful shrieks as the plane lifts off. Soobin’s eyes grow heavy as the sounds of his teammates begin to warp and fade, growing dim as the Valium kicks in.

EXT. WILDERNESS (UNKNOWN)

The fur-clad butcher carries a steaming wooden plank— a makeshift platter— towards the overseer and a ring of acolytes waiting silently in the moonlight.

The overseer turns towards a strange, masked and horned figure: the shaman. Some unspoken agreement passes between them.

The culmination of a strange ceremony begins to unfold. Then, as he gestures to the congregation— they descend, ravenous, coven-like, on the feast. Grease-smeared faces as their teeth hungrily begin to rip and tear meat from its’ bone.

The overseer of the feast pulls back his hood to reveal his face, eyes dim and exhausted. The wreckage of the plane is weathered by sun and rain, grown over with dead winter vines.

INT. CHARTERED PLANE (PAST)

Soobin gasps awake to find himself in a cabin now eerily dark. The engines strain, a deep, terrifying roar. Somewhere behind him, someone screams.

He can’t quite place who it is or what’s happening, all he does is turn to Yeonjun. He shaked him, heart racing. He doesn’t move. Across the aisle, Jungwon quietly mutters a desperate prayer.

Frantic, Soobin tries to get his bearings, to make sense of the nightmarish scene. Beside him, Yeonjun remains slumped, his unused oxygen mask dangling limply overhead from the initial loss of cabin pressure.

Soobin yanks up the window shade to see the silhouette of mountains, close and getting closer. The ground rushing up as they glide over a vast forest. Then— one final and deafening BANG!

[nekkas]

In the twilight's embrace, meet the Nure Onna—a spectral serpent draped in sorrowful hues. Her scales tell tales of forgotten echoes, a fusion of macabre and whimsy in the moonlit glades. Beware the ethereal dance she weaves. 🐍 #art #artist #illustration #illustrator #nekkasart #nekka #painting #drawing #sketch #popsurrealism #lowbrowart #lowbrowpopsurrealists #bubblegoth #bubblegothart #neogoth #bigeyeart #creepycute #beautifulbizarre #juxtapoz #hifructose

[gobboguy]

Chapter 11: The Pinnacle

Through the vast expanse of the Spiritcall Glade, Ionia embarked on a harrowing trek, her feeble steps echoing a haunting cadence through the ancient redwoods. The illusion of death clung to her like a spectral shroud — her skin, now ashen and cold, radiated no warmth. She had become a wraith, teetering on the edge of life and death, a mere echo of the vibrant soul she once possessed.

The forest, once vibrant and alive, now seemed to hush in deference to the passing phantom. The air bore witness to Ionia's passage, untouched by the breath of the living, as if the glade itself recognized the gravity of her journey. She felt nothing — no pain, no fatigue, no yearning. Stripped of all sensory perceptions and emotions, she moved through the undergrowth with a gait resembling a shambling corpse, her every step an affirmation of the ethereal dance between the realms.

As she ambled through the silent forest, the Swordmaster's Pinnacle loomed above her, growing in size with each laborious stride. The ancient tower, a monolith against the night sky, held an aura of quiet authority, indifferent to the undead specter that approached. Ionia's gaze, devoid of life's spark, remained fixed on the looming structure, a silent guidepost in her journey from the depths of the glade.

The forest, with its gnarled roots and twisting branches, seemed to whisper secrets of the ancients as Ionia passed through. The redwoods, ancient sentinels, bore witness to her ascent, their branches intertwining overhead like somber observers of her ascent to the Swordmaster's Pinnacle. In her deathly silence, she pressed forward, navigating the labyrinth of shadows that cradled her passage, her destiny entwined with the unfathomable mysteries of the mystical forest.

The Swordmasters' Pinnacle rose from the heart of the Spiritcall Glade like a weathered sentinel, its timeworn stones standing testament to the ages that had whispered through the ancient redwoods. The tower, once resplendent, now stood in solemn decay, its majestic spire crumbling as if bearing the weight of forgotten centuries. Ivy tendrils snaked their way up the once-imposing structure, a living testament to the relentless march of time.

The looming gate of the Swordmasters' Pinnacle stood ajar, a sentinel of iron wrought with intricate engravings now rusted with age. It creaked in protest as Ionia, the spectral figure of death, approached. The air around the entrance hummed with the energy of the forgotten, and the gateway yawned open, revealing the interior shrouded in an eerie half-light.

Within, the Pinnacle's interior bore the scars of neglect. Cobwebs adorned the corners like ethereal tapestries, and bats, stirred from their slumber, flitted through the stagnant air. Vines snaked through the gaps in the masonry, reclaiming the tower for the embrace of nature. The echoes of wildlife, both spectral and corporeal, reverberated through the hollow chambers, creating a symphony of life within the silent sepulcher.

Amidst the decay, Ionia's keen senses detected a flicker of warmth and life behind a weathered door within the Pinnacle. The pull of that distant presence beckoned to her, a siren's call in the desolation. Yet, her gaze remained fixed upwards, drawn to the pinnacle's summit as if compelled by an unseen force.

With every ounce of remaining strength, Ionia began to drag herself up the winding stairs, the steps worn by the footsteps of those who had ascended before her. The air grew thinner as she ascended, the Pinnacle's heartbeat pulsing through the cold stone. The struggle against gravity mirrored her internal ascent, the journey both physical and metaphysical, a relentless climb towards a destiny entwined with the enigmatic lore of the Swordmasters.

With each agonizing step, Ionia ascended the dilapidated stairs of the Swordmasters' Pinnacle. The hours stretched like an eternal tapestry of suffering, her corpse-like form stiff and teetering on the precipice of death. Yet, through the abyss of exhaustion, her steely resolve remained a beacon in the cold darkness, urging her onwards in the relentless climb.

As she neared the summit, a fragment of light spilled through one of the many rents in the tower, revealing a breathtaking panorama. Ionia's hollow gaze, fixed on the landscape beyond, met the expanse of the Spiritcall Glade and Farfield spread beneath. A faint bitterness clouded her vision as she beheld the land that had once betrayed her, denying her the throne and casting her into a self-imposed exile. The glade, once a haven, now seemed a haunting reminder of her past, yet her determination drove her to continue the ascension.

With the gradual ascent of the sun, its golden rays piercing through the cracks in the tower, Ionia reached the peak. The remnants of the roof greeted her, and as her weary eyes surveyed the summit, she beheld a solitary figure. Gramherth Rock, Swordmaster of Farfield, sat in meditation, his sword lying flat on his lap like an extension of his tranquil form. As he opened his eyes, the dawn painting the world in hues of amber, he greeted Ionia with a serene nod. "Welcome home...Swordmaster Ionia."

Ionia, on the verge of collapse, offered no immediate response. Instead, she surrendered to the exhaustion that gripped her, the culmination of a journey fraught with trials. The Swordmaster's acknowledgment hung in the air as she fainted, her unconscious form now a silent participant in the sacred communion atop the crumbling peak of the Swordmasters' Pinnacle.

[deliciouspatrolblaze]

MY LOVE FOR WILDLIFE :THE WHITE FOX!

In the heart of an enchanted forest, where moonlight played hide-and-seek with the shadows of ancient trees, a creature of ethereal beauty roamed silently. The white fox, a majestic guardian of the mystical realm, moved with an otherworldly grace, its fur shimmering like freshly fallen snow under the pale glow of the moon.

Its fur, an immaculate canvas of purity, stood out against the verdant backdrop. But what truly captured the essence of mystery were its eyes – twin orbs of radiant crimson, a stark contrast to the snowy pelt. These red eyes held a wisdom that seemed to echo through ages, and an untold story of the magical lands they had witnessed.

The white fox moved with purpose, weaving through moonlit glades and over babbling brooks. Its footsteps left no trace, as if it danced on the delicate edge between reality and dreams. Those who were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of this elusive creature spoke of a silent communion, feeling an unspoken connection to the ancient forces that shaped the very fabric of the enchanted woods.

Legends whispered that the white fox with red eyes was a spirit of guidance, a spectral guide leading lost wanderers to the heart of the forest, where dreams intertwined with reality and the extraordinary became ordinary under the watchful gaze of the mystical guardian.

[gwydionmisha]

Yellow Moon - Angela Manalang-Gloria

I stand at my window and listen; Only the plaintive murmur of a swarm of cicadas. I stand on the wet grass and ponder, And turn to the east and behold you, Great yellow moon. Why do you frighten me so, You captive of the coconut glade? I have seen you before, Have flirted with you so many a night. When my heart, ever throbbing, never listless, Had pined for the moonlight to calm it. But you were a dainty whiteness That kissed my brow then. A gentle, pale flutter That touched my aching breast. You are a lonely yellow moon now. You are ghastly, spectral tonight, Alone Behind your prison bars of coconut trees. That is why I do not dare take you into my hand And press you against my cheek To feel how cold you are. I am afraid of you, yellow moon.