Rick Is Kind Of Jealous Of How Easy Isabella Has It

Rick is kind of jealous of how easy Isabella has it

Chapter five! Sorry for not updating in a but I've been busy, this ones kinda short, enjoy!

“Okay, so you need new clothes.” I say while loosely gesturing at Isabelle's threadbear dress that she's clearly had just a few years too long.

We got to the safe house about half an hour ago, and Isabelle has already had three panic attacks and even bit atlas once when he tried to pick her up. She looks down at her dress and then backs up at me, her expression clearly conveying that she doesn't think they make clothes in her size.

“Atlas over here makes doll clothes, I'm sure he has something in your size.” I gesture over to Atlas who is wasting a bandaid on the small bite mark that isn't even bleeding.

Atlas has told me that he plans to be a dressmaker once he gets out of college. He works with me since we make a lot of money in our line of work so he can save up to start his own business. He makes miniature versions of his designs for practice, which im sure would fit isa perfectly.

“I'll draw you a nice bath while atlas grabs those?” i suggest, and she just gave me a weird look. With a sigh I grab a small bowl from the cupboard and set in behind the old breadbox. Most of the kitchen appliances here are pretty old and the house is old despite the money we make.

We have to keep a low profile.

Besides, most of our money goes to buying weapons and extra cars so we can’t be traced. “You can go behind there for a bit of privacy, we won't look, promise.”

Atlas says, and I watch her carefully step behind the breadbox as I fill a cup up with warm water to fill the bowl with. I send atlas to go grab a bit of shampoo, conditioner and body wash in a bottle cap.

My hand Hesitates for a moment when Isabelle lets out a small sound of surprise while I was reaching my hand in to grab the bowl. “Not looking, just grabbing the bowl.” I reassure her.

She reminds me a bit of a squirrel. She jumps at the slightest movement, when we were eating early I saw her stuff a bit of food into her pockets, she's fast, and most notably her size.

Now that we aren't actively trying to escape the lab, I'm able to fully take in her size. She goes against everything I learned in school. Logicly, a person of her unique stature wouldn't be able to produce enough body heat to keep themselves alive and would need to be constantly moving and eating to keep themselves alive. Kinda like how hummingbirds drink sugar water and are constantly in a state of movement.

Yet, here she is. Defying math and logic itself by standing at a mere fourish inches tall and near starving to death via malnourishment and seemingly producing enough body heat to not freeze death.

Hopefully she'll answer my questions and explain what had happened to make her like this before her brother comes to collect her. I can't explain why, but the thought of her leaving makes my heart heavy.

With a sigh, I make sure she has everything she needs before I leave the kitchen to go find atlas. It doesn't take long because he's usually in either one of two places, his bedroom or the studio.

I do the same knock that anna did during ‘do you want to build a snowman’ on the studio door, and wait for his confirmation that i can come in.

“knock normally.” he calls back, i can tell that he's focused. A grin stretches across my face and I proceed to bang on his door, again to the tune of the famous kids song. He groans and I laugh, “come in.”

I enter the studio and am immediately hit with the scent of fabric glue invading my sense of smell, I cover my nose while opening the window closest to him. “What are you working on? And does it need that much glue?” I ask, and atlas doesn't even bother to look up.

“Pajamas, Isabelle needs something to sleep in doesn't she?” he replies dryly, a small sigh escapes his lips as he sets down his pin to look up at me.

“Am I in trouble for hitting you with the car?” i laugh at the question, “of course you are.” he deflates, and goes back to his work. “Unless. . .” I start with a smile in my voice, and he turns back and spins around in his chair immediately.

“Find out everything you can about isabelle.”

You can fix him? Yeah, well I can shrink him.

Feel free to send me these an ill write a short!

g/t dialogue prompts

“Please come back, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“You could get hurt.”

“How did you get so small?”

“Why are you so big?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you- I’m sorry.”

“You could have gotten hurt! Please ask for help next time.”

“You need to be more careful.”

“Please- put me down.”

“I didn’t mean any harm!”

“So… you gonna pay me rent, or…?”

“You’re going to freeze out here,”

“Literally anything could kill me.” “Exactly!”

“Did you steal that?”

“Dude, you could drown in a puddle”

“Try walking a mile in my shoes! oh, wait-“

“Am I a bad roommate?”

“I’m gonna jar you.”

“Please let me help you.”

“Can- can you stay? At least for tonight?”

“And how do you think you’ll get there on your own?”

“Step away from the edge of the counter-”

“They’re not here. You’re safe now.”

“Please don’t kill me!” “Wait, what?”

“Did you steal the buttons off my shirt?”

“You ever think about what life would be like if we were the same size?”

thanks to @infinimay for helping me create a couple of the prompts! (10, 12, 13, 14,15? maybe?) 

feel free to use! 

Anytime I see a post with an odd number of likes i always like it so it's even, it brings me joy.

Chapter four of inhuman, were back to isabella's perspective, enjoy!

Chapter four.

Isabelle

I'm sitting on the dashboard of Ronan's car with a burger three times the size of my own body sitting in front of me.

It's the first time I've smelled something so good in so long, and it won't taste as good as I've spent the last ten years imagining. “You want me to cut that up for you?” Ronan asks while his mouth is stuffed full of half chewed food.

I've been living in a cage for the last ten years and have only been fed literal slop and I have better manners than this ghost man. I shake my head no, and look back at the burger in front of me. I pull off two pieces of the bun and rip off small pieces of the meat, lettuce and cheese to make a mini burger for myself. My hands are covered in grease and sauce, but I can deal with it after I eat.

The first bite tastes freedom, and the second solidifies that hope. After I finish the first mini burger, I waste no time ripping off more pieces to make another one,

and another, and another. By the time I realize that I can't eat another bite, there's a good chunk of the burger missing. I'm embarrassed to admit I'm a little proud of how much I was able to eat.

I look back over to the two towering people who have already finished their food, anxiety begins to pool in my stomach when I realize neither of them have said anything about Damien since we were in the lab. I was promised that Damien would be waiting for me, and it's just these two in the car.

The boy to the left of Ronan looks quite a bit younger than him, with fluffy brown hair he stuffed under his hood and a birthmark almost in the shape of a heart on his jaw. I don't like him. He hasn't sat still once in the entire car drive, and won't stop looking at me. I look back at the dark haired ghost man, he has a scar over his lip, and I think he might be wearing a bit of lip gloss.

I don't not like him.

His hands were pretty soft and warm. When it looks like the younger of the two is about to speak, I start before him. “Where's damien?” I ask quickly, and I wipe a bit of the grease off my hands and onto the thread bare dress I still have from the lab.

“He's in Italy, he’ll be back in-” he cuts himself off when his phone dings. He quickly digs his phone out of his pocket. He raises his eyebrows and looks up at me. “Next week, actually.” more dread pools in the pit of my stomach, and I clench the ends of my dress in my tight fists. “How do I know you're not lying?”

I ask, not looking up at either of them. As much s i try to hide it, I'm scared. If they're lying and actually are working with the people from the lab, there would be no one to blame but myself for believing them. This could all just be a test to see how I react to feeling hope, and then having it all taken away. “Two reasons.” Ronan starts, and he takes a sip of his unnaturally orange drink.

“One, our entire paycheck rides on whether or not you're safe, and two, you're the seventh kid weave rescued from these labs. You can ask the other six how even though we don't look very untrustworthy, were the most safe persons-”

“People.” The boy next to Ronan corrects him. “People, you'll ever meet. We can even call your brother so you know it's really him.” he says reassuringly, but i don't feel the least bit reassured. In fact, I feel an even higher sense of dread.

There's more labs like the one I was in, there's more people like me. How many more are there? Who are these two?

I shift my attention back to the younger boy,

Than to ronan.

Than to the giant pile of guns that took me a concerningly long time to realize were back there.

What. the. Fuck. I scoot back a bit and look between the two of them once more, before pointing at the pile of guns again. “What, what are all the guns for?” I ask, as I scoot back a bit more.

“Oh! Those are just in case there were people in the lab with you.” the boy whose name I really need to figure out says as he quickly throws his hoodie over them, most likely to hide them from my line of sight. “We're kinda like assassins but without the killing people part” Ronan gives him a skeptical look, his brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened. “Except we do kill people.” Ronan adds on, and my eyes go wide with not exactly surprise, but more confusion that he would admit to a stranger that they kill people.

“Oh right, yeah, so we're kinda just assassins.” I'm guessing I'm not doing the best job at hiding my anxiety about being in a car with two murders fifty times my size with absolutely no escape route, from how Rowan's expression shifts to a reassuring and almost embarrassed look. “But we won't murder you, of course.” Rowan adds with a smile.

And that is possibly the least reassuring anyone has ever been while trying to tell someone they won't be murdered. But it's also not the dying part I'm worried about, since I myself cannot die. Its the torture i'm more scared off. If they are planning to get rid of me, the ways in which they could do so are horrifying.

They could bury me in a wooden box underground, and I'm too pathetically small to even be heard. Or maybe they would lock me in a steel chest and drop me into the ocean. Or maybe they'll just lock me up in a room to rot away.

What if all they told me about them being trustworthy and about my brother was a lie.

“Isa, why are you crying?”

Ronan's voice cuts through the never ending possibilities still screaming in the back of my head, and I'm suddenly all too aware of how close his hand is to me, his whole hand is twice the size of my entire body and is two seconds away from encasing me in its grasp.

Fight or flight kicks in and I make a run for it, “hey! Wait! Don't run-” running towards the rolled down car window. When I turn my head to see if his hand is still following me, I see that it's gone completely.

Confusion joins the overwhelming mix of emotions in my head, but it's immediately replaced by shock when the hand comes crashing down in front of me, blocking my only exit. My heart pounds against my ribcage and tears prick the corner of my eyes.

A familiar ringing sound fills my ears as I make a sharp turn to run the direction I came from. This attempt proves to be futile as well when i second hand lands in front of me on that side too. Fear grips my heart and all I can think about is the pain that's coming when the two hands start to move in on me from both left and right.

I brace myself for the crushing pain that will be my punishment for trying to run. I curl in on myself uncomfortably with Ronan's ring still loosely fitting on my waist digging into my chest. The promise that he made to me with this ring on must've meant nothing to him even though it meant the world to me. He scoops me into his hands and before I can even register any of the pain I begin to struggle.

No matter how pointless it is I struggle against his hold, if he's going to try and hurt me i will not make it easy. I wonder if it's possible for the addranile to block out all of the pain, or if he hasn't started to hurt me yet.

“oh mon Dieu- Isabelle! Calm down! I am not hurting you!”

Ronan says, but i don't listen, i don't believe his lies and i continue to struggle in his hand. He closes his hands around me so that I'm cupped between his hands in almost complete darkness, small bits of light peek through the gaps in his fingers and I freeze.

I stop for a moment and realize that he is being gentle, his movements are a bit clumsy, but he's not hurting me at all. I'm still shaking a bit but I'm not actively fighting against him anymore.

“I am really starting to run out of ways to express that we don't want to hurt you.” he says with a sigh, though his voice is a bit muffled through the flesh wall between us, i can hear his sincerity. I copy his sigh, “please. . . put me down. . . please.”

I say in a tone so quiet it almost counts as a whisper. To my almost surprise, he listens. Ronan sets me gently down in the cup holder beside him. It's only then that I notice the boy next to us with a mortified expression. He looks at me, then looks at ronan.

“Dude, you did not just grab her like that!?” Ronan gives him a quizzical expression. “She's fine with it, right isa?” I quickly shake my head no, agreeing that I am not okay with being grabbed like this.

“Oh, I'll stop doing that then.” he starts up the car again and i flinch, neither of them notice though and they start driving the car. I hug myself, and try not to think about the danger I could be in.