- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Online Availability
- 3pm - 1am (GMT / BST)
- Writing Levels
- Beginner
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Transgender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Monsters, supernatural, fantasy, romance, criminality, slice-of-life (modern or set in past, usually with some twists)
When Wesley Wood had been born, he was guaranteed a lot of things. He was guaranteed to have five older brothers who would to look after him, and he would have a mother who did everything in her power to make him feel loved and safe. That wasn't to say that his family were the epitome of normality; they were as far from it as was physically possible, but the love they had for one another was commendable. Wesley, therefore, had a childhood that consisted of love; something not every child at the orphanages he had been forced into had the pleasure of experiencing.
Wesley hadn't been like his brothers in a lot of ways. They seemed to take their mother's philosophy seriously, joining in with her warped view of the world and genuinely liking the violence their small farmhouse had been home to over the years. Wesley often slipped back away from the violence, but it didn't once affect the way he looked at his brothers or mother. He was terrified and often brought to sickness at the sight of the blood and mutilation that took place within his home, but he still clung to his mother at night and smiled up at her when she lovingly tucked in him and his brothers. He was fiercely dependent on every member of his family, even if their activities were hardly... enjoyable for the young boy.
All those memories, however, had disappeared as the years drifted by. A combination of physical beatings and heavy (unnecessary) medication left the young man unable to recollect a lot of his past life. He was fed lies synonymous with the realities of a child in care; he was told that his parents were incapable of caring for him and gave him up. That was far from the truth. His mother had fought for years to try and find where her sons were, and try to get access to them. Her reputation and her limited financial resources, however, meant that, for ten years, Wesley was left to suffer through various orphanages, unable to even rely on his memories of his loving family for comfort.
The asylum he was thrown in a few months prior was easily the scariest place he had been in. Being punished for doing nothing wasn't uncommon, having been punished five years ago so brutally that it completely fucked up his brain, but the idea of suffering through electroshock therapy was a new terror for him. The only thing that made the experience even remotely bearable was Maria. Up until her arrival, Wesley had to deal with nurses who didn't understand him. They didn't care enough to educate themselves with his file; to learn that an attack had left him with issues. His common confusion, however, was explained by them as stupidity, and that seemed a perfectly reasonable excuse to tease and torment him.
Maria wasn't like that. She was nurturing, caring and only encouraged him, rather than discourage him through teasing. It took their first encounter together for him to gush to a friend that he was in love, and even though the asylum was still a place of utter hell for him, she made it all better.
Seeing her enter the main living room easily brought a smile to his face, waiting patiently for her to get to him with his daily dose of pills. He didn't like taking them, but it never seemed that big of an issue when Maria was distributing them. She could be offering arsenic, and he'd probably swallow it down because she told him to.
"...Can we try reading again today? I sure am close to reading a paragraph, Maria. I reckon I could read the whole book by the end of the month," the younger man gushed as he swallowed the pills down with ease - he was a pro at it at this point. Gesturing to the book in his hands, his fingers ran through the pages proudly. His illiteracy was always a factor of embarrassment for him, so he was determined to continue his teaching with Maria... especially when it gave him an excuse to be around her. "...You look real pretty today. You look pretty all the time, ma'am. Just extra pretty today."
Wesley hadn't been like his brothers in a lot of ways. They seemed to take their mother's philosophy seriously, joining in with her warped view of the world and genuinely liking the violence their small farmhouse had been home to over the years. Wesley often slipped back away from the violence, but it didn't once affect the way he looked at his brothers or mother. He was terrified and often brought to sickness at the sight of the blood and mutilation that took place within his home, but he still clung to his mother at night and smiled up at her when she lovingly tucked in him and his brothers. He was fiercely dependent on every member of his family, even if their activities were hardly... enjoyable for the young boy.
All those memories, however, had disappeared as the years drifted by. A combination of physical beatings and heavy (unnecessary) medication left the young man unable to recollect a lot of his past life. He was fed lies synonymous with the realities of a child in care; he was told that his parents were incapable of caring for him and gave him up. That was far from the truth. His mother had fought for years to try and find where her sons were, and try to get access to them. Her reputation and her limited financial resources, however, meant that, for ten years, Wesley was left to suffer through various orphanages, unable to even rely on his memories of his loving family for comfort.
The asylum he was thrown in a few months prior was easily the scariest place he had been in. Being punished for doing nothing wasn't uncommon, having been punished five years ago so brutally that it completely fucked up his brain, but the idea of suffering through electroshock therapy was a new terror for him. The only thing that made the experience even remotely bearable was Maria. Up until her arrival, Wesley had to deal with nurses who didn't understand him. They didn't care enough to educate themselves with his file; to learn that an attack had left him with issues. His common confusion, however, was explained by them as stupidity, and that seemed a perfectly reasonable excuse to tease and torment him.
Maria wasn't like that. She was nurturing, caring and only encouraged him, rather than discourage him through teasing. It took their first encounter together for him to gush to a friend that he was in love, and even though the asylum was still a place of utter hell for him, she made it all better.
Seeing her enter the main living room easily brought a smile to his face, waiting patiently for her to get to him with his daily dose of pills. He didn't like taking them, but it never seemed that big of an issue when Maria was distributing them. She could be offering arsenic, and he'd probably swallow it down because she told him to.
"...Can we try reading again today? I sure am close to reading a paragraph, Maria. I reckon I could read the whole book by the end of the month," the younger man gushed as he swallowed the pills down with ease - he was a pro at it at this point. Gesturing to the book in his hands, his fingers ran through the pages proudly. His illiteracy was always a factor of embarrassment for him, so he was determined to continue his teaching with Maria... especially when it gave him an excuse to be around her. "...You look real pretty today. You look pretty all the time, ma'am. Just extra pretty today."