wolf163

[wolf163]

So, this isn't what I normally post- BUT, I made a portrait of all my pets :D!

I'm still practicing, so it's not very good but I tried to make it as good as possible-

So, piraña was thrown inside a bag alongside 4 of her sisters and one brother, they were thrown over our fence and spent the whole night there, we found them in the morning because they were all barking and whining- she was the "leader", the first one who came running, she was only around 3 months old when she arrived but it was clear she was the one trying to protect her siblings, she didn't let us near her or the other puppies until we gave them food lol- now, the other puppies were adopted- but we kept piraña, she was a brave and incredibly smart pup, she protected our house and brought us joy and many good memories, but at 8 months old she passed away after being poisoned by someone (we don't know who it was, but we didn't realize she was ill until around a week afterwards- which was already too late), nothing had changed about her up until the very last days of her life, when blood started pouring from her nose- we knew we were too late, I really miss her- but I hope she's happy wherever she is.

Tumbalín is our oldest dog, he's 14 and he still acts like a puppy- he runs around, gets the zoomies constantly and is an overall happy old man- I got him when I was still young, and we pretty much grew up together- my aunt's friend's dog had given birth to 3 puppies, one of those was tumbalín- my aunt brought him home after her friend offered to give him to her, and she gifted him to me- he's alive and well still, his birthday is soon! So I'll post some pictures of his birthday party <D.

Luz arrived recently, she arrived the 12th of December of 2024, we like to think that she was our Christmas gift from piraña- she was smaller than my hand, she looked like a meatball with how filled with parasites she was, she was also left on our doorstep- but she didn't come with any siblings like piraña, she's a total drama queen- she SCREAMS if you don't pick her up, she screeches like a bat if you don't feed her fast enough and she whines and whines until you either cradle her like a baby or kiss her forehead a few times- I bought her a small wooden closet and some clothes, she loves them- and she gets mad if I try to take them off her.

And lastly is Charlie, he's a grumpy bird who screeches at you when you pass by, the only way to get on his good side is to give him a piece of apple (only red apples, he doesn't like green ones, he'll just leave them there)- we nursed him back to health after finding him as a little baby by a ditch, and he's now our very own Satan <D how fun is that? He had some serious beef with piraña, and would try to peck her if I wasn't around to stop him, he stopped after a while- but still, he hates kids.

[wolf163]

chapter: 3, Home is sweet, isn't it?

okay! I spent a few days making this one, because I couldn't get the story to sound quite right....it sounded almost robotic, so I had to change it over and over again- lol, my uncle had to literally make a sketchbook with the ideas I had in mind, and then organize them for me because I'm a mess- anyways, here it is!

TW: this chapter contains bullying, neglect, hints of an abusive father and an emotionally unavailable mother, predatory behavior from one of the adults, feeling dirty and used, isolation, hints of racism (let me know if I missed any).

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Time had carved its merciless path through Norma’s soul, reducing her to little more than a specter of the woman she once aspired to be.

Where once she had dared to dream, to hope, to envision a brighter future, now there remained only silence, a cold and hollow resignation- The light in her eyes had long since dimmed, and her voice, once warm, had become as lifeless as the wind whispering through an abandoned street.

Ronald was eight years old now—a child of gentle disposition, wide-eyed and curious, yet burdened by an unspoken understanding of his place in the world. He was tolerated, but never truly welcomed. "You probably shouldn’t play with him," the children would whisper among themselves. "His mom’s from the South.", "Bet he’s got fleas.", "His mom probably gave him a disease. Poor thing."

Ronald feigned deafness.

He smiled when necessary, endured when required, He had learned early that to resist was futile.

But today, for the first time, something had shifted, Today, he had made a friend- The boy’s name was Charles- though those close to him called him: "Charlie", an energetic child, ever brimming with laughter and the irrepressible arrogance of those who had never known true hardship.

And yet, despite the invisible wall that separated them, Charlie had chosen him- For once, Ronald dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps- he would not always be alone.

...

Ronald's bedroom - 2:03 AM

Ronald awoke with the first light of dawn, as was his habit.

The sun had barely begun its ascent, yet he was already a flurry of movement, his excitement too great to be contained- His small feet pounded against the wooden stairs as he made his way to the door, his breath quick with anticipation.

His attire had been chosen with great care—his most cherished pink sweater, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers, and his star-patterned shorts, slightly worn but still beloved; His parents were in the kitchen, His father, as ever, was engaged in his customary grumbling, his voice thick with irritation.

Norma stood at the sink, hands submerged in water, her gaze unfocused, her face a mask of quiet detachment, Ronald hesitated...He had long since grown accustomed to his mother’s silence, yet something in it still gnawed at him, an ache buried deep in his chest.

He turned toward the door.

"Oi! Where do you think you’re going, boy?"

Darnell’s voice struck him like a whip, sharp and unyielding.

Ronald faltered for the briefest moment before forcing himself to remain upright.

"I’m going out with Charlie," he said, his voice steady but laced with a subtle plea."I’ll be back soon, I promise! And... I’ll be good."

His father studied him, lips curled in something that might have been disdain, might have been amusement. Then, with a dismissive grunt, he waved a hand. "Go on then. And see to it that you don’t make a fool of yourself." Norma did not speak, Did not look up...Ronald lingered, hoping—yearning—for even the smallest acknowledgment.

Nothing.

A hollowness settled in his chest, and with a quiet breath, he stepped outside- Charlie’s mother awaited him by the car, a cigarette perched between her fingers, her expression unreadable.

She offered a faint smile—thin, insincere, a mere gesture of politeness, Ronald returned it instinctively and climbed inside- Charlie grinned at him, his presence bright and effortless, but there was another child as well—a girl Ronald did not recognize.

She regarded him with open distaste, arms crossed over her chest as though his very existence were an offense, Ronald smiled at her regardless.

She did not return the courtesy.

...

The Bridges Park - 9:45 AM

Their morning repast had been swift, unremarkable, overshadowed by the promise of the park; Ronald adored the park, There was a serenity to it, an untamed beauty in the whispering leaves and the soft earth beneath his hands.

The world felt lighter here, the weight upon his small shoulders momentarily lessened... But as they arrived, Charlie’s mother drifted from them, sauntering toward a group of men who awaited her with knowing grins, Ronald observed the way they touched her, the manner in which she leaned into their grasp, the laughter she shared so freely...

His mother did the same.

It was, he told himself, simply the way of things.

...

"Hey! Watch it!" The girl’s voice was sharp as she recoiled, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Ronald flinched, He had barely brushed against her, yet the look she gave him was one of utter revulsion. "Oh, uh, sorry," he mumbled, brow furrowed with guilt, She scoffed. "Yeah, whatever. Just don’t touch me." Ronald bit his lip, hands clasping the hem of his sweater. Charlie, unfazed, merely shrugged.

"She’s always like that, Girls are weird." Ronald frowned. "What do you mean? My mom isn’t like that." Charlie grinned. "That’s ‘cause she’s not a girl, dummy. She’s a mom." Ronald frowned again... "Isn’t that the same thing?" Charlie shook his head.. "Nope. My mom says girls are kids, and women are housewives." Ronald hesitated. "What’s a housewife?" Charlie made a face. "I dunno. My mom says she is one, so I guess it’s a thing moms do." Ronald pondered this, then gave a small nod, It did not make much sense, but then again, many things did not.

...

"Why is he even here?" Jenny—now introduced by name—regarded Ronald with thinly veiled contempt. "Because we’re playing," he replied, voice quiet but firm, Jenny sneered. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be." Ronald stiffened. "Why not?" "Because you’re... gross," she said, wrinkling her nose."Even your skin looks dirty." Ronald frowned. "I’m not dirty."

"Uh, yeah, you are. Can’t you wash it off?" Ronald glanced down at his hands, at the color of his skin- He bathed every day, twice, sometimes thrice, His mother insisted upon it.

Yet still, it was not enough... The thought lodged itself in his mind like a thorn, Before he could protest further, Charlie’s mother returned, her lipstick smeared, sporting a lazy smile.. It was time to leave.

...

Ronald had been placed beside Charlie’s mother, as her husband (who was working nearby) offered to pick them up... Ronald did not understand why, Jenny and Charlie were too busy talking to notice the way the woman’s fingers grazed over Ronald’s shoulder, the way she leaned in just a touch too close.

"You’ve got such nice hair," she murmured. Ronald stiffened. "Your skin’s so soft." His breath hitched. "Maybe I’ll ask your mom if you can stay over tonight." Something cold curled in his stomach.

He turned toward the window, willing the car to move faster.

...

Ronald's bedroom - 2:03 AM

Ronald felt dirty.

He scrubbed at his skin, but the sensation would not leave.

He whispered to his father after explaining, a quiet plea. "Dad... something feels wrong." Darnell merely chuckled.

"That’s just how women are, boy."

Ronald curled in on himself.

Perhaps it was true, Perhaps it was normal.

Perhaps it was just him... And yet, no matter how fiercely he squeezed his eyes shut, the feeling would not leave.

...

And now, as he lays motionlessly on his bed...he can't help but feel the weight of all of the cameras placed in his room, Dr.dalton must have heard of what happened, maybe he'll ask him why he feels this way when they meet again for their weekly checkup?

Maybe he will ...but I doubt anything will be done about it.

[wolf163]

Leorio Paladiknight: The "Street Rat" of Agrabah.

Okay so, this was recently requested- I'm still working on polishing my skills in writing, and this will be my very first time doing a fanfiction so please be patient with me.

This is an Aladin AU with Leorio.

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The sun beat down harshly on the golden streets of Agrabah, dust swirling in the arid air as merchants hollered their wares to passing crowds. Amid the bustling bazaar, a boy in ragged clothes weaved between the legs of the wealthy, his sharp brown eyes scanning the vendors with practiced precision.

Leorio knew hunger all too well. He had grown up in the slums, where sickness spread faster than rumors, and empty stomachs twisted in pain. He had watched neighbors, friends, and even his own family waste away, unable to afford even the most basic medicines, The injustice of it all boiled in his blood—if he had money, he’d make sure no one suffered like that again- But for now, he was just another street rat, stealing to survive.

"Stop, thief!" A furious voice rang out.

Leorio had already grabbed the apple before the vendor even noticed- He sprinted through the market, dodging baskets and startled camels, grinning as his long legs carried him past the guards, He took a sharp turn into an alley, vaulting over a stack of crates- A flash of movement ahead made him skid to a stop.

A small child cowered against the wall, his ribs visible beneath his dirt-smudged skin. His eyes locked onto the apple in Leorio's hands.

Leorio sighed, then knelt down, pressing the fruit into the boy’s tiny hands.

"Eat up, kid," he said, ruffling his hair.

"And don’t let ‘em see you, or they’ll take it back." The boy’s wide eyes filled with gratitude as he bit into the apple with a desperate hunger.

Leorio felt the familiar pang in his own stomach but shook it off, He’d find another way to eat.

"Hey! You there!" Cursing under his breath, Leorio turned to see the guards charging toward him, their swords drawn. "Just my luck," he muttered before sprinting in the opposite direction.

He darted through the twisting alleys, leaping onto a wooden beam and hoisting himself onto a rooftop, From there, he had a perfect view of the palace in the distance, its towering spires gleaming under the sun.

That was where the rich lived, where people never had to choose between food and medicine. One day, he swore, he’d get in there—not as a thief, but as someone powerful enough to change things.

He didn’t just want riches, He wanted to be a doctor, to heal the sick, to make sure no child had to suffer like he had.

For now, though, he was just Leorio, the street rat of Agrabah.

And he had a city to survive.

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Okay, so- this wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but I still had to search up quite a bit of wiki pages for the Aladin part- I just couldn't remember half of want happened in the movie for the life of me, but anyways- I'm not sure if this is really accurate, so please let me know how I did!

[wolf163]

A bit of lore before the third chapter!

so, this is a little bit of the role going on in this world, I'll explain what EXACTLY Ronald is a but later, but you'll get an idea of what he is here and what his mother did go have him.

TW: medical abuse, political abuse, mentions of death, sicknesses and postpartum depression is hinted. (Let me know if I missed any.)

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The South

Cramped streets, decaying buildings. No space, no air, no future. The stench of rot and despair seeped into every crumbling structure, every shadowed alleyway, A city suffocating under its own weight, where sunlight was a luxury stolen by the overbuilt towers pressing against the sky.

A place for the discarded.

The forgotten.

The damned.

And the North? That was for the fortunate, The powerful, The ones born into privilege, insulated from the sickness, the hunger—the slow, inevitable decay that defined existence in the South.

It hadn’t always been this way.

At the dawn of the new millennium, in the year 3000, the world chose division over unity. The unwanted were swept from sight, relocated beyond the borders of prosperity. It was efficient, they said, Orderly.

A necessary sacrifice to preserve civilization. For some, at least.

The North thrived.

The South rotted.

Norma had always known suffering, To be born in the South was a death sentence, one that came slow, drawn out by disease, hunger, and the unrelenting weight of despair. She had been just another body claimed by the poisoned air, her lungs burning with an illness that would never heal.

She was dying.

Until he came.

Dr. Dalton, A man with a voice like silk and a smile that promised salvation- He spoke of wealth, of health, of a future, And of a child.

A son.

Something she had never dared to dream of, The offer had seemed almost too good to be true—carry a child to term, raise him, and in return, be lifted from the filth that had been her home. The only condition? Daily updates, Monitoring.

A small price to pay for a miracle.

But then the miracle began, The sickness, the nausea. The relentless, creeping exhaustion. Her body was no longer hers—it belonged to them now. The doctors. The scientists. The ones who measured her pulse and her blood, who whispered in corridors and scribbled notes on their tablets.

She was not a mother, She was a vessel.

And vessels were replaceable.

She was warned, time and time again—no sudden movements, no stress, no risk. Her body was precious, but not for her sake. The experiment could not be lost.

Even if it meant losing her.

By the time regret set in, it was too late. The contract was signed, the deal sealed. There was no way out. So now she lay motionless on her bed, her husband turned away from her, whispering to his mistress on the phone.

His voice was low, almost tender. A tone he never used with her. And she wondered—was it worth it?

Was it worth leaving her sick mother behind?

Was it worth abandoning her daughters?

Was it worth the pain?

This was not the life she had imagined. Not the future she had been promised, And now, with her son in her arms, she could not bring herself to love him, She could not even look at him.

Because he was not like her daughters, He was something else entirely.

A creation.

A perfect vessel.

That’s what they called him, A marvel of genetic engineering, the first of his kind—a child who carried within him the potential to reshape humanity. A being capable of reproduction without need of another.

Male.

Female.

Both.

And Neither at the same time.

The ideal host for life itself.

He was the only one who had survived the trials. The others—those before him—had not been so lucky, A dozen before him had perished. He was the first success.

That had to mean something, didn't it? Surely, nothing could be wrong with him.

Nothing at all.

[wolf163]

okay, so- I want to test out my skills and get out of my comfort zone, so once I post enough chapters for people to understand the story better- then I'll be answering questions, releasing headcanons and I'll even do x readers-, this will probably be after the fifth chapter, but idk, what do y'all think?

[wolf163]

since I'm still figuring things out, how should Ronald look? I'm guiding on the idea I had of him, I just need help choosing which one I should go with- as I had thought of two possible combinations- if any artists see this, then you're more than welcome to draw sketches and fanart of Ronald following the characteristics of with anything else you might want to add- IF you're interested in the story or simply want to help, I'm open to anything (⁠^⁠^⁠)!

[wolf163]

Chapter: 2, A mother's love and a father's neglect.

So, this is the second chapter- this was the hardest one yet as I had to do a LOT of research for when it came to medical terms and equipment, still, after two headaches I gave up midway so I'm pretty sure it's not accurate and I just made a fool out of myself by placing random words on here, but for the sake of this- just go with it.

TW: cursing, medical abuse, mental breakdown, motherhood struggles, mentions of cheating. (Let me know if I missed any.)

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"A.S.F. Laboratory" – Norma’s Private Room

How long had it been? An hour? Two?

Time bled together in the dim, sterile glow of the lab. The walls were too white, the air too still. A lingering scent of antiseptic clung to everything, sharp and artificial, like it had been scrubbed into the very oxygen she breathed.

Norma lay exhausted, her body hollowed out by childbirth, her mind teetering between exhaustion and despair. Yet, sleep refused to take her.

Because Ronald- her precious baby, wouldn't stop crying.

The wails were unrelenting—thin, piercing, unnatural. They didn’t sound like a newborn's cries. No gasping pauses, no small, whimpering breaths in between.

Just a constant, unwavering scream, as if something inside him was wired differently. As if he wasn't just crying but protesting his very existence.

And Norma? She was breaking. Her arms trembled as she rocked him, her grip tightening with each passing second. She wanted to love him—she needed to love him—but her mind clawed at her, whispering things she didn’t want to acknowledge. He’s different. He’s not normal. He’s not like other babies.

Her husband certainly didn’t see him as normal. But Darnell had been gone since the birth, claiming he was "too exhausted" to stay. More likely, he was nestled in the arms of some young nurse, while she was left to fend for herself.

The nurses were no help either. They rolled their eyes when she asked for so much as a glass of water. The doctors had long since retired for the night.

Norma was alone. And Ronald would not stop crying."Please." Her voice was hoarse, raw from hours of whispering, pleading, bargaining. She rocked him roughly now, her patience eroding with every shriek that tore through the empty room.

"Please go to sleep. I—I can’t do this—"

She wasn’t built for this. Her mind felt like a fraying rope, splitting fiber by fiber. "Maybe he’s right," she thought bitterly. "Maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I was never meant to be a mother." Her breath hitched, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

She placed Ronald back in his crib, gripping her hair, digging her nails into her scalp as she curled into herself. She buried her face in the pillow, trying—desperately—to muffle the noise, to make it all just stop.

Then- a soft knock was heard. The door creaked open, and an older nurse stepped in, her presence a quiet mercy in the dim light.

She was different from the others. She didn’t sneer or sigh in annoyance. Instead, she looked at Norma with something dangerously close to kindness. “Oh, sweetheart,” the nurse cooed, stepping forward. “You sure have a fussy one, don’t you?” Norma couldn’t respond. The moment she saw that expression—gentle, understanding—her composure shattered. She broke into quiet, shuddering sobs.The nurse sat beside her, smoothing Norma’s damp hair and pressing a light kiss to her forehead, the way a mother would.

“May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the crib.

Norma could only nod.

With practiced ease, the woman lifted Ronald and held him against her chest, bouncing him lightly, whispering something only he could hear. And—miraculously—he calmed. His frantic movements stilled, his tiny fingers twitching against the fabric of her uniform.

For the first time since his birth, he was quiet. The nurse sat beside Norma, carefully placing Ronald back in his crib. “It’s alright to feel overwhelmed,” she murmured, her voice a soothing lull. “It’s alright to be frustrated- But don’t doubt yourself, dear. You’re his mother. He’ll love you, and you’ll love him. Even if he’s… well…” she paused, briefly glancing at Norma with something akin to pity.

Even if he isn’t normal.

She didn’t say it outright, but Norma heard it anyway.

Still, the words that followed settled something deep in her chest. “With a mother like you, he’ll thrive.” The nurse stood, adjusting her uniform before stepping toward the door. “Press the call button if you need anything.” And then she was gone, her footsteps light against the floor. Norma exhaled shakily, rubbing at her swollen eyes. She lay back down, staring at the ceiling for a long while, thoughts spinning and colliding in her exhausted mind. Eventually, sleep took her.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

...

8:22 AM – The Testing Room

Morning came too quickly.

Norma had managed only a few hours of restless sleep before the nurses took Ronald for testing. The "testing room" wasn't a nursery, It wasn’t a place for lullabies or gentle hands- It was clinical. Cold. Ronald lay on a sterile examination table, thin padding barely separating him from the metal beneath, Machines whirred and beeped around him, their blinking lights reflecting off the steel walls.

Electrodes mapped his neural activity, tracking every flicker of electrical impulse across his brain. A transdermal scanner passed over his body, analyzing cellular integrity down to the mitochondrial level.

A team of specialists stood over Ronald, monitoring vitals, cataloging anomalies.

"So far, no significant irregularities," one doctor murmured, adjusting his AR interface. "Cardiac rhythm stable. Oxygen saturation optimal. Genetic markers… unusual, but within expected parameters." Another scientist tapped through a holographic display. "Biochemical composition is fascinating. His cortisol levels spiked abnormally high last night. Could explain the excessive crying."

A third, older doctor—Dr. Whitmore—leaned in slightly, narrowing his eyes. "Have we sequenced the full genome yet?" "Still processing," an assistant replied. "We should have a full breakdown within 48 hours."

From across the room, Darnell sat slouched in a chair, his arm draped lazily around a nurse’s shoulders.

He hadn't once approached the examination table, Hadn’t even looked at his son. "Ah, what a bitch," he muttered under his breath.

One of the doctors chuckled. "Who, your wife?"

"Who else?" Darnell scoffed. "Always calling, pestering me. Christ, can’t she see I’m bloody busy?"

Busy doing what, exactly?

He barely even acknowledged the reason he was here, The reason he'd signed that damn contract in the first place.

"She can handle the little mutant by herself."

A monitor beeped sharply. The room fell into momentary silence...

Ronald twitched slightly, his tiny fingers curling. One of the doctors exhaled. "Alright, let’s finish up. We’ll release them in a few hours. But make sure she gets the surveillance package—we need full, round-the-clock observation."

Darnell groaned, rubbing his face. "Oi, can't we just leave the little shite here?"

The doctor barely spared him a glance. "You signed the contract." Darnell clicked his tongue, scowling.

"You'll take him home."

[wolf163]

okay, so- I have chapter one and chapter two ready (I spent a few weeks on them, but I kind of forgot to make the third chapter so I'll have to start soon), I went through chapter two and fixed a few spelling mistakes, changed a few things from the role and I think it's pretty good now.

[wolf163]

Full chapter! Chapter: 1, the progenitor.

this is the very first chapter of my book, I'm still not really sure if I'll publish it- BUT, I do want to share a few chapters and then I'll see how it goes from there on.

TW: cursing, existential crisis, mentions of not wanting a child- (let me know if I missed any)

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Have you ever felt alive, yet so far from truly living?

Not you, perhaps, but the progenitor? It had never been destined for a normal existence. Nothing would ever be peaceful—not like the warmth of the womb. That place had been safe, silent, endless.

Who wouldn't want to stay?

A home of liquid security, muffled voices drifting in like distant echoes. But of course, unless one wished to become a stone baby, there was only one way forward.

Birth.

Being wrenched through a passage too small, into a world too bright, too cold. And then, the voices—once soft and soothing—now shrieking, piercing, relentless. No escape. No mercy. Just the violent introduction to life.

But not every birth is met with joy.

...

Not every arrival is a cause for celebration.

Not every child is… human.

....

10:50 PM

"A.S.F." Laboratory

Low voices murmured, clinical and detached.

“…according to our contract,” one of the doctors began, his voice flat, rehearsed. “You’ll be permitted to stay with it, as long as daily reports are submitted to Dr. Dalton.”

He gestured for a nurse to step aside, then moved toward the crib—a small, sterile thing positioned beside the mother’s bed. Inside, swaddled in soft white fabric, lay the newborn.

Norma gazed at it, her body trembling from exertion. Her voice, when it finally emerged, was raw—scraped down to nothing, barely a whisper. "He's beautiful."

The nurse beside her didn’t hesitate.

“It.”

A correction. A dismissal.

“We’re still determining if it even qualifies as a person.” Norma's exhausted features twisted in confusion, a flicker of something else lurking beneath—fear, perhaps. “Why wouldn’t it?”

The nurse hesitated. Another answered.

“Have you ever seen something so… perfect?”

A pause.

“So… alive, yet so…”

"... Different?" Another nurse said.

Silence settled over the room, thick and uneasy.

Norma- the mother, wanted to argue, to demand explanations, but fatigue dragged her under. Her limbs felt weighted, her thoughts sluggish. She barely registered the question when it came.

“What will you name it?”

A hand—a man’s hand—rested lightly on the newborn’s chest, fingertips tracing the fabric as if entranced.

Her husband, Darnell, a cruel, abusive man who strongly believes He's perfect in every way, shape or form.

Norma turned to him, searching his face for warmth, for something human. “I thought we would name him together,” she murmured, her voice shaky...Darnell snorted and leaned back in his chair, his lip curling.“Together?” He scoffed. “This thing barely qualifies as my son, and you expect me to name it?”Something inside Norma twisted, a cold horror creeping up her spine. “Darnell! Don’t say that—he is your son. I carried him, I—”

He stood abruptly, cutting her off. The chair scraped against the floor.

“You carried it.” His voice was sharp now, final. “You will raise it. I only agreed to this madness for the contract—a lifetime of wealth. Or…” He let the word hang, tilting his head slightly. “Do you want to go back to the South?”

The South. The mere mention of it sent a shiver through her- Cramped, decaying streets, No space, no air, no future. The scent of rot and desperation clinging to every building, every alley. A city where the sun barely reached between the suffocating layers of overbuilt apartments and stacked storefronts.

A place for the discarded.

The forgotten.

The poor.

And now, standing in the cold, sterile light of the laboratory, Norma was reminded of the truth she had always known but had tried to forget...

Darnell would never see this child as his own.

Because it—because he—was something else entirely.

Something unnatural.

Something that should not have been born.

[wolf163]

"Life was never hers to begin with—first taken by illness, then bought by science. Now, as she cradles the child that shouldn’t exist, she wonders... did she bring him into this world, or did he bring her?"

[wolf163]

a little sneak peak while I finish my first chapter ;⁠-⁠)

10:50 PM

"A.S.F." Laboratory

Low voices murmured, clinical and detached.

“…according to our contract,” one of the doctors began, his voice flat, rehearsed. “You’ll be permitted to stay with it, as long as daily reports are submitted to Dr. Dalton.”

He gestured for a nurse to step aside, then moved toward the crib—a small, sterile thing positioned beside the mother’s bed. Inside, swaddled in soft white fabric, lay the newborn.

The mother gazed at it, her body trembling from exertion. Her voice, when it finally emerged, was raw—scraped down to nothing, barely a whisper. "he's beautiful..."

"it."

A correction. A dismissal. “We’re still determining if it even qualifies as a person.” the mother's exhausted features twisted in confusion, a flicker of something else lurking beneath—fear, perhaps. “Why wouldn’t it?” The nurse hesitated, so another answered.

“Have you ever seen something so… perfect?”

A pause.

“So… alive, yet so…”

“…different?” another nurse responded.

...

"maybe it's best If it stays that way."

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So, I'm still trying to add more "emotion" to it, idk if it's good or not, my uncle helped me with it but his first language isn't English either so he talks like a Victorian child lol- I'm open to any suggestions, corrections on spelling and anything else that's wrong.

-Angel.

[wolf163]

Blog rules and other things!

§- please be kind when commenting, I'm only JUST starting to write, I've been dealing with depression for a while and writing has been my escape.

§- constructive criticism is allowed!

§- English isn't my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

§- I have trouble writing things with "emotion", they sometimes come out sounding robotic or boring 🫤, but I'm working on that with my uncle, he's a philosophy professor and he's been helping me a lot (sometimes it can be a little too much and it looks like someone from the victorian era wrote it, lol).

That's honestly it, my book contains mentions of: rape!, teen pregnancy!, blood and gore!, curse words!, angst!, medical abuse!, political abuse!, mentions of sexism and neglect!, substance abuse!, smoking!, underage drinking!, birth at two points!

I DO NOT condone ANY of this things in real life! This is simply the backstory of my character and how it's shaped- I will do my best to accurately represent my characters trauma and everything he's feeling- again, I DO NOT encourage any of this things in any way, shape or form, you can ask questions about the book, the characters, fanart, AU's, whatever you want but please credit me- anyways, I hope you guys like my book!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!