wexlerscully
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“You look like—” Carol's voice broke from no use. “You look like someone who isn’t real.”
“It was the most efficient way to—”
“Stop,” Carol snapped. The woman—they—stopped. It was the first time since Helen’s body went cold she'd said stop and the world had listened. “You’re not allowed to use my—” She gestured uselessly at the woman’s face. “You can't puppet this poor woman around to show up here like a goddamn consolation prize.”
The woman took a small step closer. “We only want to help.”Or,
Two love stories give rise to another.- Language:
- English
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Bookmarked by wexlerscully
05 May 2026
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There’s something different in the way that Zosia looks at her now. Carol’s stopped moving, and she clings to Zosia’s shoulders with a vice grip as she spirals into her all-consuming stare.
There’s a gnawing hunger in Zosia’s gaze, so desperate that Carol herself can almost feel the sharp bite of its teeth ripping into her own flesh.
Bookmarked by wexlerscully
19 Mar 2026
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“I didn’t keep most of the memories. Other people’s memories. I get flashes of big things, births, deaths. Except about you.”
Carol feels the confusion slip onto her face. Nervousness creeps up her spine again. “Me?”
“I know everything that anybody has ever thought about you, Carol. Every memory. Every feeling. Helen. Your ex-girlfriends. Your dentist. It’s like I have a Carol encyclopedia in my head.”
Carol had thought that she was done experiencing fresh horrors. What a nightmare it is to realize that she is not. “Oh, god.” She says.
“Oh, god,” Zosia agrees.
After they manage to break Zosia free of the hive, Zosia and Carol try to navigate the field of landmines that is their relationship.
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Bookmarked by wexlerscully
10 Feb 2026
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He could tell her that her prefrontal cortex was the revelation to the thief on the cross.
Bookmarked by wexlerscully
06 Nov 2024
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Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.
(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)
(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)
“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”
(Adrien has some things to find out.)
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Bookmarked by wexlerscully
28 Nov 2023