#all miracles are strange

[boyhood]

Lizz Hamilton

YOUR VIOLENCE LASTS FOREVER AND YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN

Ptarmigan and stingray barbs

2024

lizzhamilton.com

[gameclam4]

episode 3 of all miracles are strange was a long 15 minutes. many tears were shed and a lot of “mhm”s were whimpered. lizz hamilton is a very good podcaster.

[beateveryteamintheleague]

All Miracles are Strange time

[qqueenofhades]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Death of the Endless, Rose Walker Additional Tags: It's An AU Or Is It, There's a Complicated Relationship To Canon, A Murder Mystery But Not Like You Think, Academic Drama, Art History, Historical Mystery, Angst and Romance, Professor Hob Gadling, Modern Era, Dreams and Nightmares, Past Character Death, Possibly Unreliable Narrator, They’re Soulmates Your Honor

NOTE: If you want to read or catch up from the beginning, here’s chapter 1.

[insert-cephalopod-joke]

Current #: 6/5 (answering a bonus ask ^_^)

Rook: 1

“Summer”: 2

Saturn: 1

Ember: 1

All: 1

[fadedkat]

OBSESSED with maggie and nina's relationship with crowley. he's their landlord's husband but also they're not dating. he presents as a middle aged goth dude with a face tattoo. they've never seen him without sunglasses ever. he's probably been seen sleeping in his bentley outside their shops. every time either of them see crowley he says something cryptic and random. he tried to set them up despite not really knowing either of them. they gave him dating advice. they both watched him get struck by lightning and walk away unharmed

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Thank you so much for the tag, my friend--you know I appreciate every chance I can get to promo my work!

So, five favorites? Honestly, it's hard to choose, as most of my work remains WIPs that are currently languishing for updates. I'm going to exclude my one-shots to narrow down the field - and base this list on both the story and the quality of the writing. Hoping that they might get a little bit of love and some new readers!

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight - Stephen Strange x OFC. Slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, mentor/student, friends-to-lovers. Pre-Infinity War. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 19 chapters.

A Khan By Any Other Name - Khan Noonien Singh x OFC. Adventure, danger, angst, romance. Pre-Star Trek Into Darkness. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 12 chapters.

The Secret of Salvation - Major Jamie Stewart x OFC. War Horse AU. WW I. Angst, prisoner of war, romance. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 5 chapters.

The One That Got Away - Benedict Cumberbatch AU, where he is primarily a stage Actor with some movie/television appearances. Benedict Cumberbatch x OFC. Takes place during a production of The Taming of the Shrew. Castmates to friends to falling in love, slow burn, jealousy, lots of angst. WIP, currently 18 chapters.

Scarlett and the Professor - Tumblr exclusive. An original, erotic, paranormal romance, based on a discontinued roleplay. All original characters. Takes place on an unnamed Caribbean island. Older man/younger woman, professor/student, supernatural elements bringing them together, romance, angst, forbidden desires, light kinks with foreshadowing of darker kinks. Contains Mature Content. WIP, currently 32 chapters, plus two one-shots.

moodboards under cut

(related works: Lady in Red, Though There Be Pain Love Still Endures)

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight

Doctor Stephen Strange's life has settled into a fulfilling pattern; even as Master of the New York Sanctum, he continues his studies in the mystic arts, self-training with the library that the Ancient One amassed in her years as Sorcerer Supreme. An old alliance forged by the Ancient One brings an unexpected request to him, and he is duty bound to fulfill it. Along the way he meets with some pleasant surprises--and discovers that his heart is not immune to the effects of the gentlest sorts of magic.

moodboard by @strangelock221b

Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because her kind heart overrides her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger, stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiosity is piqued as much by the classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by the driver--a tall, dark mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than what he appears.

moodboard by @mel-loves-all

Major Jamie Stewart is a survivor--but sometimes he just needs to escape. The guilt, the pain, the despair; his bitter fall due to folly and hubris. It helps to survive if one has a sanctuary to turn to, a dream to hold onto. A vision of a day--and a woman--that might grant him the salvation he desperately craves.

bookcover for The One That Got Away created by @onebuttscratcher

An actress making her name for herself on the London stage, Virgilia (Vicki) Gordon vows not to follow her usual pattern: falling in love with her leading man. The work comes first and foremost--or so she plans. She never expects to develop feelings for her co-star in "The Taming of the Shrew", but with his stellar talent matched by his charm, kindness and intellect, Vicki learns all too soon that, despite one's best intentions, the heart goes where it will. Still, all might be well--but he is far from free enough to return her affections.

moodboard by @strangelock221b

Romance & Passion. Mystery & ties to the Supernatural. Lust & Erotica. NSFW material, so be forewarned. A young Scottish woman of ancient Selkie blood finds herself irresistibly drawn to her dashing British professor, with his own mysterious ties to the Sea. A serial womanizer who believes his inner darkness makes him unredeemable, he finds what seems an uncorruptable innocence in the love she freely offers--eventually coming to wonder if her light might be enough to save him from his demons.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Could Have Been

Auggie Weiss (OC) x Cricket (OC) NSFW

(Also Lok makes an appearance oh no).

Summary: Crack fic. Just wanted to make all my OCs “hang out” (wink wink nudge nudge).

Warnings: Apparent accidental drug use (so I guess that technically makes this whole thing noncon, but Cricket is quite enthusiastic), Cricket attracts the lunatics like flies to honey, descriptions of anxiety, Auggie gets a lil’ toppy, public sex, creampie.

Boredom sounds like the hum of a hotel air conditioner and feels like sheets that hundreds of people have slept in before him. Between his fingers is a fidget toy, its repetitive clicking joining the steady drone of the A/C. Perfect harmony of absolute fucking nothingness.

Auggie pushes upright and drags his gaze around the hotel room supplied to him by his employer, their generous gift in return for his attending this conference. He’d eagerly agreed to go because that’s what good little employees do, and he is nothing but the best. It really is a nice room, but that’s not the problem.

The problem is none of his stuff is here. The problem is he is unfamiliar with this town, its layout, its inhabitants, and he’s…feeling it. Feeling the itch. The need. The insistent, nagging pull just under his skin that demands attention.

Auggie tries the television, but nothing holds his interest. His mind is restless, elsewhere. For a brief moment, the cursor hovers over the adult film selection, but god the embarrassment…. With the shake of his head, he slams the power button on the remote and stands.

He is halfway to the door when he freezes in his tracks. Trying anything here would be incredibly reckless. He doesn’t know the layout of the city, doesn’t even have a car, but one more second in this room is going to make him tear his hair out.

Maybe just a quick walk….

It does help, if only a little. Traffic is noisy, yes, and the air is thick with smog, but now there’s at least something to look at. Something to distract from the itch.

Auggie walks and walks, feet tapping a steady rhythm to match the fidget toy’s clicking. He passes people, shops, restaurants, towering buildings, a million twinkling city lights. His lungs inhale and exhale and relative calm trickles into his bloodstream.

One such building catches his eye. It stands out from the others around it with its opulent pillars and arches. Signage tells him it’s a performance hall and that there is a ballet company performing tomorrow night. That might be something to do while he’s in town….

On a whim, he takes a hard right into the alley next to the performance hall. This should take him around to the back of the building. Knowing the layout of a place he may visit is always a good idea…or so he tells himself.

The back entrance is much less grand than the front, just a couple of heavy metal doors and scaffolding, but Auggie doesn’t pay the details any mind. Instead, his dark eyes are drawn to the figure standing under the flickering florescent light just to the right of the back entrance.

It’s a young woman, or at least he thinks this is most likely. Her back is to him, smooth skin exposed by the thin straps of the leotard she wears. Shorts sit low on her hips and her…absolutely perfect…legs are covered by pink tights. The bun perched atop her head tells Auggie she must be a member of the aforementioned ballet company.

She’s alone.

Auggie bites his lip. Ballerinas are athletic, right? She would make a good candidate for—

A puddle splashes underfoot. The woman jumps a little and spins around and Auggie curses his misstep. He dons an expression of mild surprise and pretends to nervously look around like he’s somewhere he shouldn’t be.

“Oh, hi,” chirps the woman, her dainty little voice bouncing off brick facing and making goosebumps raise along his arms. He can’t help the next few paces he takes toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame.

“Uh…hi. Sorry, I think I’m lost,” Auggie replies sheepishly. He clears his throat, finding it suddenly much too dry. She is…extremely pretty.

The woman looks around suddenly, like she’s just now realizing where she is. She giggles and staggers a little to the left. “Oh-ha, I wouldn’t be of much help. I’m…not from here either.” Auggie’s eyes narrow minutely as he carefully approaches.

Something seems a little off. Is she drunk?

“Are you okay?” he asks tentatively. On instinct he holds out a hand when she reaches for him. Her graceful fingers are chilly when they come to rest on his forearm and he is immediately struck by the size difference between the two of them. He could so very easily overpower her….

She looks up at him then and all thoughts derail, reform, and take a different track altogether. She is stunning up close. The soft skin of her cheeks is tinged pink and dotted here and there with freckles. A few strands of chocolate-colored hair have escaped the ballet bun and stuck themselves to her dewy forehead. She must have just come from the stage.

It is then he notices her eyes. They’re two different colors! One brown, one green. He almost missed it in the dark and with how wide her pupils are blown.

She’s definitely on something.

“I’m…not sure. I asked for ibuprofen from one…” she trails off to giggle and look around herself as if in wonder. Her gaze slides back to his and she continues, “…of my coworkers, but I don’t think it was ibuprofen she gave me.”

Auggie chuckles nervously when she closes the distance between them, suddenly acutely aware of how hot his face has become. Her digits slide up his arm, over his shoulder, and move to his chest. She seems to marvel at the feel of his shirt.

“Um, yeah, I don’t think it was ibuprofen either…” he agrees and her eyes momentarily flutter at the deep hum of his voice. Auggie desperately hopes she can’t feel how hard his heart pounds against his ribs.

“Your skin looks like stars,” she murmurs, and Auggie’s lips part with a shaky exhale when her fingertips trace the freckles across the bridge of his nose.

He swallows hard and tries to steer the conversation away from himself. “Are-are you a dancer?” She smiles, steps away, and does a beautiful little twirl, but stumbles into him at the very end. It’s second nature to catch her, to hold her up. God, his hand looks huge against her slender waist….

“Oops,” she titters, then adds, “Usually, yeah I am. Dress rehearsal was tonight, show tomorrow. Will you come?” Auggie blinks, taken aback at the sincerity of her question.

“Uh…yeah, sure, I could come,” he says, unable to disappoint her. She looks so genuinely hopeful.

“Good,” she smiles with relief, her palm pressing to his cheek with all the familiarity in the world. It’s so easy to…just….

Auggie leans down as she pops up on her tip toes to meet him halfway. The sweet, little sound she looses when their lips touch sets his belly on fire and sends his heart galloping. It’s enough to make him pull her closer, to slip his tongue past her teeth.

What the hell is he doing?! Reality hits him like a jolt of lighting and be nearly drops the woman, but she clings to his shoulders like she’ll fall off the planet if she lets go. This whole thing has gone completely off the rails, but that still doesn’t stop him from readjusting his grip on her hips and slowly walking her backward until she’s pressed against brick.

He doesn’t do this. Never. Not ever, but the thought of pulling away and no longer hearing those little mewls or feeling those desperate little gasps against his mouth is a thousand times worse than the self-consciousness scratching the inside of his brain. And something about her being high on whatever it is she took all while he’s stone cold sober is….

Freeing. Empowering, even.

She might not remember this. Any of it. And even if she does, she most likely won’t recall any mistakes he makes. Every pass of his calloused palms over her skin makes her keen, so this drug must be altering her senses in his favor. This could be the best case scenario!

The woman sighs when he tentatively dips his fingers under her tiny shorts. He drags his digits along the warmth at the apex of her thighs and nearly chokes on a wanton sound of his own. Hell, she’s warm, hot even, it’s so much nicer to have a heated, moving partner under his hands, he’d almost forgotten….

“I’ve n-never felt this…this good before,” she whispers as she bunches a handful of his shirt in her fist and nuzzles under his chin. The light, floral scent of her hair invades his senses just as her words register and something inside him shifts. That sense of wild abandon, that beautiful, all-consuming recklessness he only feels when he stalks prey takes over and squashes any remaining hesitation.

Location be damned, onlookers be damned. If he doesn’t get her legs around his waist in the next ten seconds he’s going to combust.

Deft fingers shuck shorts from hips and move to trace the edge of the leotard, but her tights are in the way. Auggie grits his teeth, digs his nails into the stretchy fabric and rips. The woman squeaks as he tears the crotch out of her tights.

When he touches her again, he finds her trembling, but a quick glance at her face tells him it’s not out of fear. Auggie must bite the inside of his cheek to keep the groan sitting at the back of his throat contained.

Strong hands grip her rear and lift—he was right, she weighs practically nothing—until she’s wrapping those gorgeous legs around his waist and rolling her hips into the aching length straining against his zipper. He does groan then, a pinched sound that seeps past his teeth.

“You-you want it. Me. Right here?” His words are murmured against her parted lips. He’s surprised by how teasing they sound. Pleasantly surprised. Emboldened.

She whines and nods frantically before adding a breathless, “P-Please….” He wastes no time, couldn’t if he tried, and hooks his fingers into the leotard to yank it to the side. Christ, she’s shaking so much and he can see how ready she is, sees it glistening under the florescent lighting.

A little more maneuvering, a quick tug of his zipper and he’s free at last. Cool night air caresses the overheated flesh of his cock and he sucks in a quick, steadying breath through his teeth. Then, she tilts her hips and he’s finally, finally feeding his girth into her tight, dripping heat.

She whimpers, tips her head back, and Auggie buries his face into the crook of her neck. He moans against her fluttering pulse, a staccato rhythm that matches the racing of his own heart. He bucks his hips, once, twice, three times and she’s already screeching.

Easily, he shifts her weight onto one arm so he can clap a hand over her mouth. The motion is so seamless, effortless, his hips don’t even falter. He can’t help the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. It’s like he does this every day or something.

Auggie braces her against the wall and pistons up into sublime, slippery warmth. She clings to his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his skin even through his shirt. He is glad for the palm covering her mouth. Without it, the entire street would know what’s happening.

She cums in a beautiful show: back arching, eyelids fluttering, cunt gripping him so tight it almost hurts. “Ffuckk,” Auggie slurs under his breath, admiration and appreciation conveyed by the single, breathy swear. He could keep going, could wrench a few more of those from her, but the risk of someone strolling through that back door is enough incentive to cut it short.

A few more strokes sees the desperate pressure in his belly released and painted as deep into her convulsing channel as humanly possible. He sets his teeth to her throat to stifle the relieved groan that spills from his lungs. Satisfaction tingles on the top of his head and all the way down to his curled toes.

Parting is difficult. Sweat and seed stick them together, or maybe it’s because he’s less than keen to see himself separated from her insides. Should he invite her back to his hotel room?

Could he be so bold?

Her outfit is a mess. Auggie quickly kneels and helps her shimmy back into her shorts, which accomplishes very little in the way of concealing their tryst. The woman bites her lip and smiles shyly up at him when he stands, and he returns the sentiment with a grin and anxious chuckle of his own. Her pupils, he notices suddenly, have constricted, shrunk back to normal size. So soon? That doesn’t seem right….

“I’m Auggie. August, I guess, but everyone calls me Auggie,” he rambles. Now that the high is wearing off, unease begins to settle back into his brain. That couldn’t have sounded more stupid if he’d tried….

She pushes the hair off her sticky forehead and beams, wide and radiant. It’s soothing to him, strangely. There’s such an overwhelming sense of acceptance about her it keeps his anxious thoughts from spiraling.

“I’m—

They jolt in unison when the heavy back door bangs open beside them.

“Alright, sweetheart, ready to head out….?” The man that saunters through the doorway trails off when his gaze lands on the two of them. Eyebrows raise in alarm and nearly disappear into the mess of copper hair atop his head.

Auggie’s eyes dart over to the woman and quickly take stock of her shredded tights, disheveled hair, sweaty skin, and blushing cheeks. Glancing down his front, he notices the hem of his shirt is soaked from…her. He’s certain his face is equally as red and dewy.

It’s probably not hard to guess what they were doing.

“What’s…?” the man starts, then shakes his head incredulously. A humorless laugh leaves him in a huff and Auggie watches him carefully school his expression to one of simple, mild annoyance. “What’s going on, babe?” His tone is exceptionally even with just a hint of curiosity.

Auggie looks back to the woman. She doesn’t respond for a moment and instead blinks repeatedly, confusion etched on every inch of her face. It’s like she’s trying to come back to something, some memory.

Auggie’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he quickly looks back to the man. He’s a little shorter and much less toned than himself. It will be easy to fend the other off should he get violent. Auggie can’t tell the color of his eyes in the dark, but the sharpness in them is obvious. Dangerous, even. He sizes Auggie up the same way Auggie does him.

Interesting.

“I…I’m sorry, I’m…I’m trying to remember where we were going, but it’s…. I can’t.” The woman trails off shaking her head, expression utterly perplexed. It’s like she doesn’t even recognize this man.

“You know what, never mind. You’ve obviously got better things to do, yeah?” the other man snarks, waving a hand dismissively in Auggie’s direction. Before either of them can respond, the man turns on his heel and stalks away. Auggie catches an irritated “Unbelievable,” from him before he rounds the corner and disappears from sight.

The alley is quiet for a moment, awkward silence and incredulity hanging thick in the night air. Then, the woman laughs suddenly and covers her face with her hands. Auggie watches, bemused, as she peeks between her fingers and shakes her head.

“I’m…I’m really sorry about that, but I honestly have no idea who that was. I don’t know why he was acting like he knew me.” Her voice is muffled behind her hands and Auggie can’t help but laugh.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t calm the weird nagging feeling in his gut, but what other answer could there be? The woman laughs too, shrugging, hands falling away from her face as she looks down at her feet.

As her gaze falls, she catches sight of the watch on his wrist. Her eyes grow wide and she snatches his arm, twisting it a little to properly see the time. “Oh god, is that the time? I’m really late, I’m sorry, I need to go.” Hurriedly she attempts to fix her hair as she shuffles toward the door.

“Are—are you gonna be—I mean, I’m sorry about your tights,” he calls after her, a little disappointed to see her go. Over her shoulder, she smiles reassuringly at him as she hauls open the heavy metal door.

“Come to the show tomorrow,” she tells him, pretty features alight with earnest sincerity.

A crooked grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

[eyepatchdate]

ok. i read tom king's mister miracle run and tbh? i don't think i vibed with it. but it DOES read interestingly as a proto-strange adventures though.

[boyhood]

I have a new episode of my podcast All Miracles Are Strange. It's about hysterical weeping, Margery Kempe, EM Cioran, and two ceramics work by the artist Carolein Smit (above).

It's also about how I cry a lot.

In this episode, I referenced Tears and Saints by Emil Cioran, The Crying Book by Heather Christie, Cry Baby: Why Our Tears Matter by Benjamin Parry, Interior Castles by Teresa of Avila, the Book of Margery Kempe, Afterlives of the Saints by Colin Dickey, and the essay “Tears and Screaming: Weeping in the Spirituality of Margery Kempe” by Santha Bhattacharji, which appears in the book “Holy Tears: Weeping in the Religious Imagination.” I tried very hard to put in some bits from Margery Kempe by Robert Gluck, but couldn't make it work this time around.

If you would like to support my work or read more of what I do, you can find me on Patreon and Substack. If you want to see my studio work, you can see it on instagram and on my website.

This episode, along with all the others, can be found on both Spotify and Apple Podcasts

[gameclam4]

OKAY. SOBS.

[sanstropfremir]

Have you listened to Ay-Yo or the other new singles part of NCT 127’s repackaged album? I always enjoy diving into your perspective on groups artistic vision! I never really gave them much time but was sucked into their recent music (I think it’s because of Dem Jointz and Kenzie who helped produce some of the album??). The AY MV wasn’t as flashy as 2 Baddies but I do love a cunt moment and Taeyong delivered for me. I am now so curious about NCT!! You’ve mentioned before that they’re one of the backbones of 4th gen. What do you think it is about the group that has established them beyond others? I appreciate that the songs are experimental and unafraid. The music videos always feel like being sucked into an intense video game and I am here for it lol. Thanks for running such a thoughtful blog btw! Most times I feel like I’m in a little island with too many thoughts but it’s always a fun time checking out your posts.

yes! i love ay yo and the new songs on the repack! skyscraper is my fave of the three but i also really dig dj. dem jointz has actually produced quite a few of 127's title tracks, including cherry bomb, punch, kick it, sticker, and some bsides like right now, time lapse, designer, and nct dream's arcade! kenzie has also done a few 127 tracks including limitless, favourite, and several of my all time fave nct songs ok! and music dance.

sm obvs has big three privilege and for a reason, they have a really long history as one of the founding pillars of the industry since they pretty much invented it. bc of the company's status and their consistency with training their idols + the legacy of the popularity of their groups + the quality of their music, any new group that sm debuts automatically garners a lot of attention, both from the gp and from others in the industry. because of that, they tend to be imitated just by nature of having that much publicity, but nct made a splash with weird choreo and ''noise'' music. the seventh sense was a very unusual debut and no one's managed to level up to it since, even if nct wasn't exactly doing anything that new for the era they debuted in. they're spiritually continuing f(x)'s musical legacy, and the weird choreo + acrobatics of late third gen you can see in other groups that debuted in 2016, like knk and sf9. it's just that they had the higher visibility and outlasted a lot of other groups, so the combination of all those factors is what solidified them as being a significant influence on the subsequent generations.

[beateveryteamintheleague]

I hurt. Every day I am forced to do what I am not good at.

[onedogbark]

sekiro is finally cheap enough on steam to justify buying a game i already own. i can finally play modded sekiro

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

So I'm curious -- what inspired Teyla's patois?

Stephen Strange x Teyla of Hadeeth /Of Magic Miracles and Moonlight

That came to her character very naturally--and honestly, arises from my enjoyment of writing elevated speech when the scene/character calls for it (no surprise, as Shakespeare is one of my earliest writing influences, and I am, after all, an Actress at heart 😉). While her native tongue (Hadeethan) is a more formal and quite poetic language, thanks to having lived on Earth with her father for several years, Teyla also has a fairly good mastery of USA English. Thus, when swept up in the passion she and Stephen share, she feels such an urgency, such an immediacy, to express the fullness of her heart and her desires, her brain takes whatever shortcut it can to share it all aloud.

And as you've read their story, you may have noted that Teyla and Stephen have developed a sort of mind bond that allows him to clearly get the gist of the Hadeethan she mixes in.😁❤️❤️‍🔥

Thank you so much for asking, my friend. Though it's been ages since an update to any of their three WIPs, they are alive as ever in my heart, and I pray some day to give Streyla the fullness of story they deserve!

[sabertoothwalrus]

You’ve been tasked with seeking out new food sources for your village. Food is scarce, but thankfully, your community isn’t picky. You can’t afford to be picky.

One day, you find it: a miracle food source hidden away in ruins no one goes in anymore. Everything about it is strange— the terrain is unfamiliar, the food is delicious and plentiful, the circumstances suspicious. Could this be divine intervention? You decide it doesn’t matter much.

Your squad feasts. You eat well. With your bellies full of food and your hearts full of joy, you carry as much of the food back with you as you can carry. You feel very confident for the first time in a long while that your community will be fed.

Your village feasts. The banquets are endless. Squads are sent to continuously replenish this wondrous food supply. Everyone is fed and happy and it is good.

And you almost don’t notice at first, but you very, very slowly fall ill.

You don’t immediately connect it at first, blaming it on this and that. You’re just more tired than usual, is all.

But all of your squad members fall ill, too. The oldest one dies.

The plague (curse?) spreads throughout the entire village. Being well-fed isn’t enough to stop it. More and more families fall sickly en masse.

The squads are hit the hardest. That’s when you finally make the connection. The food is bad.

But it’s too late.

No one can recover fast enough. Everyone has eaten the food.

When the beloved matriarch falls ill, you know this will be the end for your village. There’s no way to recover enough people, especially without any proper leadership. You know your village will silently disappear, and you know you won’t be around enough to see if any survivors will make it out ok.

If only you could be there to warn them not to eat the mysterious food in the future. If only you could warn them that it’s a trap.