#oc:ronan

[gtlurker]

I SAW THIS AND SCREAMED ITS SO REAL

Isabelle and Ronan were once my human and borrower ocs nole and Eliana...

[retquits]

Hi, how are you? I just wanted to ask you if have you ever payed Dragon age or Mass Effect games? If yes, what Is your opinion on these games? Have a good day/night :)

for some reason i never got into mass effect (i do own 3/4 of the games they just never really clicked with me) but DRAGON AGE

i don’t actually own a computer that can run inquisition BUT i have played da:origins/da:2 and dove deep into the lore & characters ... and as a result have a million save files lmfao my hawke flock is an unstoppable hot mess, they are literally all criminals

also bonus shame meme of my main warden tryst & nichol who has traveled through all 3 games

[gtlurker]

Cross over comic i did with my charater ronan and @holyluminarychaos charater max! Discussing their tiny companions

[gtlurker]

This was my first attempt at a side perspective so don't judge that too harshly lmao

[gtlurker]

Chapter two of inhuman! The story is getting a perspective switch, and as more characters are introduced you'll see the story from their pov aswell! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter two

Ronan

Walking out of the lab holding a terrified four inch tall woman in my hand is not how I expected this to go when I accepted this job three weeks ago.

From the outside this building looks like an abandoned church. It's in a remote area several miles into the forest on the outskirts of the city. A good place for a hidden lab. It took me half an hour to walk here from my car, where my partner atlas is waiting. He's been talking to me through an earpiece that I turned off after he so helpfully told me I spilled bleach after I knocked over a vial. I sigh when I feel the first few drops of rain begin to fall. “Fils de pute.” I mutter in French, earning a strange look from isabelle. Looking down at the mini lady I start to move her to my pocket, her response is the let of a small shout and cling to my finger.

I know this isn't exactly the right time to be thinking this, but she is absolutely adorable. “Don't worry, I'm just getting you out of the rain, don't want someone as lovely as you getting soaked now do we?” I ask with a wink, and I notice how her cheeks lighten to a soft shade of pink. Adorable. She takes a few moments to process what I said, and when she does she quickly shakes her head no. I tilt my head to the side as a way of asking for her to elaborate. “This. . . is the first time I've been outside in ten years,” she trails off before she can fully get her point out. Since she didn't finish her sentence, I kept walking in the direction of the car.

I don't actually intend to take her directly to the car, she seems like she's not ready to be inside again. I'm going to take her far enough away from the lab that she won't be affected when I burn this hell on earth to the ground. The inside of the lab has already been dosed in gasoline that I mopped the floors with before I found Isabelle, all that's left to do is light the match.

A gas fire won't be hindered by the water falling from the sky. If she wants to watch she can from a safe distance. If not, I'll take her back to the car and get atlas to get us back to the safe house. Whatever will bring her the most closure. After just a few minutes in the rain, Isabelle is soaked and shivering in my hand. I pull two unused tissues out of my pants pocket, and allergies in the late summer will be the death of me, and I wrap them gently around her body. She looks up at me gratefully for about two seconds before the tissues are soaked and clinging to her in a way I'm sure cannot be comfortable. An apologetic smile is all I managed to give her before I decided that this is a safe enough distance away for me to start the fire. I set her down on a tree branch that hangs at the same level as my head, and turn around to light this place up like it's a firework.

“WAIT- where are you going?! Are you leaving me here?!” she yells out, and I flinch. Right, I have to explain the things i'm doing to other people, they can't read my mind. The amount of pain and panic in her tiny voice makes my heart shatter into a million and a half pieces. She's scared, she doesn't know me, and I'm her only hope of getting out of here alive. Even though I have no real intentions of abandoning her, there's no possible way I can assure that to her. “What? No, no of course I'm not leaving you, I just need to destroy the evidence that I stole you, and that I was ever here. I'll be right back, pinky promise." I hold out my pinky finger to the small girl, just like she had done to me not that long ago.

The breath she lets out holds a hundred different meanings and I don't know any of them, but a smile full of relief fills my face when she touches her finger to mine. “I'll be right back.” To solidify my point, I slide the ring off my pinky finger and carefully lift her arms, earning a well deserved flinch that I immediately apologized for. The ring slides perfectly over her Arms and rests beautifully on her hips like a golden belt. The small ruby gemstone glimmering in the moonlight above us. “Keep an eye on that until I get back, yeah?” I ask her, she gives me a hesitant nod. I give her one last reassuring smile before I turn around, already twirling the lighter around my fingers.

As soon as Isabelle can't see my face my smile drops and my expression twists with an anger only these types of places can bring out of me. I had my partner and basically adopted brother atlas do a bit of research on what kind of lab this place is when we first accepted this job. Finding out that Isa was the sole survivor of the nine kids she was brought here with was not a comforting fact. It was even more disturbing to find out that they weren't even the first batch of experiments to go through this place.

Seventy four.

Seventy four other children were killed in this lab and the three others spread across the country over the last decade and a half. Each of their deaths was more brutal than the last. I shudder at the thought as I walk back through the doorway of the building. “Fires won't light in the rain.” Atlas' voice chirps through my earpiece and I roll my eyes, even though he can't see it. “Gas fires can't be put out with water.” I remind him. I should really stop pulling him out of school to help me on these highly illegal missions. I pull the lighter out of my pocket and flick it on, before dropping it on the ground and watching as the flames burst around me in seconds.

I should have started the fire from outside.

The smell of smoke and burning chemicals invades my nose as I sprint out of the burning building. I feel a small fire on the bottom of my pants which I try to put out as I run. It's hardly effective at all, but the small puddle I stepped in seemed to put it out without burning my skin too much. I can feel the heat of the fire as if it's only inches behind me.

Fuck this was a bad idea. I don't even give Isabelle a chance to ask questions about the sudden and very large fire that is spreading throughout the lab. I ignore her protests and squirming and I hold her close to my chest. The fire is catching on the wet grass surrounding the old building entirely. I'm forced to hold Isabelle a bit tighter when I feel her almost slip out of my grasp, I wince a bit as I hear her fearful gasp.

I don't want her to fear me any more than she probably is, the client is not going to be happy with me for scaring the shit out of his sister. Her tiny voice is shouting panicked cries at me even though I'm trying to save her ass. I turn back to see that the fire is spreading a bit more, it's not spreading very fast but it's definitely not safe enough to stay here for much longer. “Sorry isa.” I say as I drop her gently into my pocket so I can run a bit faster.

Atlas’ car comes into view and relief floods into my system. The headlights turn on as he drives a bit closer to pick me up. I slow down and carefully fish Isabelle out of my pocket, at the same moment the car crashes into my body.

[gtlurker]

My first ever story (and post) on this site! It's tilted inhuman and is about a girl named isabelle who do to genetic experimention is shrunken to four inches tall, it's also going to be told In multiple povs from each charater. the story can be a bit graphic and has a few mentions of suicidal thoughts so warning for that, otherwise I hope you enjoy.

Chapter one.

Isabelle

The first time I felt real hope in my life also ended up being the last.

I was nine when my father brought me and nine other kids to his lab where he and his team of seventeen scientists and three assistants researched the limits of the human body. I foolishly thought it was my parents showing an interest in something I was passionate about.

Science.

I used to love science. I loved taking the time to figure things out and learn about whatever I wanted in my own experiments, I loved picking things apart to find out how they work, and I loved the amazing feeling I got when I finally figured things out. But after i learned what it's like to be on the other end of the stick, whats its like to be picked apart for someone else to figure out how i work,

I hate science.

I pull my knees to my head as I try to conserve the very little warmth my cold cell provides. My eyes squeeze shut as the door creaks open, someone’s here. Nobody should be here, they only left two hours ago. I'm given six hours and thirty minutes of sleep every night after the experiments. Why is someone here? Please, god don't let it be another scientist wanting to play doctor with my tired body during the only break I'm allowed to have. I don't hear footsteps. It must have been the wind playing tricks on me. The familiar click of the door shutting once again gives me half an ounce of comfort as I realize I'm alone again. Everyone else is gone. I press myself against the cold metal bars of my cage and take in the room around me, the same overly clean environment that I've grown used to over the last ten years.

A sigh escapea my lips as I take in the sight of the table they use to perform their sick experiments on me, they hadn't even bothered to clean up my blood. No doubt they left it there to torture me further. The sight of my blood on the table only reminds me that I will never escape, not even death can free me from this fate. Death cannot save me if death cannot reach me. I close my eyes again and go through a mental checklist of what they haven't taken from me yet. my memories, my voice, my thoughts. My memories, my voice, my thoughts. My memories, my voice, my thoughts. I repeat in my head over and over, reminding myself that no matter what else they take, I will always have those three things, even when I wish I didn't. envy is the only thing that comes to mind when i think of the other nine kids who were here with me, partly because they don't have to live with their memories and their thoughts, and partly because they even got to die.

The first of us died of blood loss, so they altered our cells so that we don't get the luxury of bleeding out.

The second caught fire due to the actions of a careless scientist, so made it so our skin can't be burned.

The third had died from being pumped with too many drugs at once, so they made us immune to overdose.

The fourth had died of sickness, so they made us immune to that too.

The fifth had attempted an escape, so they diminished our size down to nearly nothing. He had died during the tests to see if that would work.

The sixth had suffocated herself with a pillow, so they replaced our lungs with a robotic system that produces a different type of oxygen that only our bodies could handle.

The seventh had been crushed to death, so they made our skeletons able to withstand the weight of buildings.

The eight had died of cardiac arrest, so they made our hearts fifty times stronger than any human heart should be.

The ninth had been dissected and stolen for parts.

I am the tenth. The result of how far you can push the limits of the human body, and that is only until they find a way to break me too. I glare at the pile of blankets in the corner, there covered in too much blood and grime to be even considered as usable. They refuse to wash the blankets, which we regrettably used as tourniquets to tie off our wounds back when all this first started. The smell of them used to be nauseatingly disgusting, and I almost wish I could get sick from being around them.

Maybe if I was sick theyd give me a bit of a break. I doubt it though, they would more likely find a way to make me immune to that too. I wonder how long it's been since I have had the cold or even a stomach flu. I wonder how long it will be till I get sick again. I wonder how long it will be until I die, or if I even will die. I used to think It was my right as a human being to have a proper death outside of a place like this, but would I still have a right to leave this lab if I no longer have my mortality? I shake my head as if I'm shaking off the existential crises before it can fully develop.

“Atlas, did you even bother to make a layout of the building?”

an annoyed whisper cuts through the cold silence, And a pit of dread starts to build in the bottom of my empty stomach. It wasn't just the wind. I get up too quickly in an effort to try and get a look at the intruder of the lab. This person is quiet, I haven't even heard their footsteps once since the door shut. Why are they so quiet? Could they save me? Could they hurt me? Where are they? My eyes scan the room as I try to find the ghost person that's sneaking around the room. It's better if I find them before they find me. Almost like the ghost I keep comparing them to, they've hidden themselves perfectly. Away from the sight of the four cameras in the corner of the room, and away from my view. I can't make out if there's one or two ghosts in the room with me. I heard the man say a name, but I only heard one voice. What if there's no one here at all? What if after ten years of living in agony and suffering has finally broken me?

If the ghost-man is nothing but a figment of my broken imagination, then it wouldn't hurt me to talk to him, to call out for help. It would ease the neverending loneliness that this place has instilled in my mind. But on the off chance that it is a real person they could be dangerous and here to hurt me further. Stepping away from the edge of the cage I go over the pros and cons of calling out to him. Pro, if he's fake he doesn't pose a threat. Con, if he's fake then I've truly lost it and will have know way of knowing. Pro, if they're real then they could save me. Con, if they're real they could be scientists. A sigh escapes past my lips, and at the same moment a beaker falls and shatters on the glass tile. A strong smell of bleach invades the room and the ghost man lets out a series of curses in an accent that sounds almost french. Why would my mind make him french? I shake the thought from my head almost as quickly as it forms, what's important now is that i can finally see him. He's in all black with a hood covering the upper half of his face, but I can see a small scar on the left side of his jaw. He's obviously very muscular even with his slightly baggy clothes, and is holding a pistol tightly in his left hand. Why is he armed?! I watch in paralyzed fear as the man looks up and meets my eyes. His brows furrow as confusion takes over his features, he lowers his gun to his hip and takes a cautious step towards me, I return his gesture by also taking a step back. He takes another, more curious step forward, and I again step back. We continue this back and forth until he's at the edge of my cell and I'm pressed firmly against the furthest wall of my cell.

A tense silence fills the room as we both stare at each other intently, watching, and waiting for the other person to make the first move. A chill breeze passes through the room and a shiver racks my tiny body. This man is huge next to me. I've grown used to being man handled and grabbed by scientists whenever they wanted to use me for their sick experiments, but for this ghost-man to stand in front of me and really let me take in his size, its a new form of torture that none of the scientist could even hope to come up with. What if that's what this is? The scientist sending in someone to fuck with my head when they ran ran out of ways to deystroy my body. “Que diable…” the man breaths out a sigh as his shoulders slump with what seems like defeat. What the hell does “que diable'' mean? He's definitely real if he's speaking a language I don't know. He almost seems just as and if not more confused than I am. His eyes shift to the rotten pile of blankets sitting in the corner of my cell. And I feel heat rise up my neck and dye my face a subtle shade of pink from the embarrassment of this stranger seeing me in such a disgusting state. I straighten out the threadbare dress that hangs loosely on my body, before attempting to fix out my hair. I don't know why I care about how a stranger views me, maybe it's because he's the first person who's seen me in years who wasn't actively trying to hurt me. I flinch as he raises a hand that's bigger than my whole body, and gestures to me, more specifically my height. “Are you. . . Isabelle liana?” he asks, his thick french accent breaking through the silence, and my breath hitches in my throat when he says my name. I press myself up further against the wall, the cold metal pressing against my skin. He knows my name. Why? There's not a chance he's here to do anything good if he already knows who I am. I shake my head no, lying in the hopes that he'll leave and not hurt me. “Do you know where I can find her?” he asks, and i shake my head once more, i don't think he has good enough eyesight to catch the fact that i'm trembling with fear of what he may do if he finds out that i am in fact, isabelle liana. “Why, why do you need her?” My words are rushed since I'm not sure how well my vocal cords work now since I've only been using them for screaming the last year. His eyes widen and his face shifts to one of shock and slight confusion at my sudden refound voice, and it takes him a few moments to regain his confusion. He rolls his head as he contemplates the way he could phrase things. Does he think I am a child? “Her brother hired me to find and rescue her.” he explains, shrugging his shoulders and leaning down to peer into my cell once more. I shudder under his heavy gaze, but as his words sink in, hundreds of thoughts rush through my head, one playing louder than all the rest. “Damiens okay?” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth, and the regret buries itself deeper in me as a smile spreads across his face. “You know damien?” he asks, a playful hint to his tone,

“Yes.” i respond.

“And you're not isabelle?” he asks.

“I am not.”

“How do you know damien?” he crosses his arms and leans on his left hip. “Family ties.” I confidently replied. “Like a brother?” He raises his eyebrow. “Yes.” I cross my arms in return. “So you're isabelle?” he tries to suppress his smirk. “obviously.” fuck. I don't know if it's sleep deprivation or hunger, but this guy is starting to annoy me more than scare me. A grin plays on his lips as he chuckles quietly, I flinch at the sound and take a step back. My eyes go wide as he pulls out a small pair of dull looking scissors out of the large bag he wears on his hips, but they dont look like normal scissors. They're bigger than his hand and seem like they should be stored in a tool box.

“What is that?!” I shout, now fearing for my safety once again with this ghost man. “Chain breaker.” he replies blankly, before raising it to the lock of my cell. It moved to the far back corner, getting as far away from his chain breaker as I could. “I'm ronan, in case you were wondering.” he tells me as he swings open my cell door. I gasp, the only barrier between him and my safety easily stolen without a care in the word from him. Tears brim my waterline at the thoughts of everything he might do to me if i dont get away from him. But I can't. He's blocking the only exit with his way too big hand that is now entering my cell. Oh my god his hand is in my cell. My eyes snap shut and I put my hands up defensively. “NO!” I cry out, and a small sob escapes my throat. the warmth that's been radianting off his hand leaves my cell. And I almost want it back. Sobs rack my pathetically small body as he just watches, I bet he's just struggling to contain his amusement at seeing me like this. He was lying about knowing damien, he guessed i had a brother and this is all just one big trick set up by the scientist to torture me even more than the already have. My sobs soon turn to wails as I realize that I indeed am going to die without seeing my brother again, Ronan, if that even is his actual name was just sent here to bring false hope just so they could rip it away one last time before they finally kill me. And that's only if I still can die, they might bury me under ground and leave me there to starve or dehydrate, whichever comes first, then study the effects it has on my inhuman body. No one will reprimand these awful people for everything they've done to me and the nine others who lost their lives in this place, they'll bring in a new batch of kids and do the same to them, and all our deaths will be in vain. I flinch when I feel a finger begin to gently pat my back, and I jump away from it. “Hey, hey, calm down, stop screaming.” he says, as he puts his hands up so i can see there not doing anything to hurt me. “I already told you this but i'll tell you again, your brother, Damien Liana, hired me, Ronan Moreau, to rescue you from this place.” i shake my head no, not wanting to believe a word he's saying, this man has managed to go from terrifying, to annoying and back to terrifying, and i don't think i could trust him even if i tried. I flinch hard again when I notice that he's slowly extending his palm towards me. But it stops before it even enters my cell. “Please, I promise I'll get you out of here safely.” he says, and i wipe some of the never ending tears off my cheek. “Pinky promise?” I whisper, and he chuckles at my childish request. His hand shifts so that he's holding out his pinky finger to me. I hesitantly hold mine out as well. Because of the immense size difference we can't interlock our fingers, so we just touch the tips together. It may not seem like much, but it means alot to me that he was willing to go along with such a childish request for the sake of my comfort. This time, when he reaches out a hand for me to climb onto, I take a deep breath, and step onto the hand that's offering me the freedom that I have been praying for.

[gtlurker]

Master post for inhuman

My first ever story (and post) on this site! It's tilted inhuman and is about a girl named isabelle who do to genetic experimention is shrun

Chapter two of inhuman! The story is getting a perspective switch, and as more characters are introduced you'll see the story from their pov

Chapter three! And yet another switch in perspective, and a new character! Chapter three Atlas There’s many ways to express panic, regr

Chapter four of inhuman, were back to isabella's perspective, enjoy! Chapter four. Isabelle I'm sitting on the dashboard of Ronan's car

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

Finally chapter six of inhuman, unfortunately I couldn't find a way to squeeze any g/t into this chapter, but, new perspective and new chara

Chapter seven of inhuman! Hope this chapter I'd enjoyed because I loved writting it, bit of violence but nothing to major in this chapter, e

Chapter eight of inhuman, finally out. This chapter is a bit angsty and mentions isabelles time at the lab a bit, so fair warning for that,

Post by @gtlurker

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 1 · Sorry for not updating in bit- but here is chapter eleven of inhuman! Very brief mention of suicide, but otherwise, enjoy!

Post by @gtlurker

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 8 · Here is chapter ten of inhuman, a bit of a violence warning, bit of blood, enjoy! Chapter ten Isabelle My arm really h

https://www.tumblr.com/gtlurker/753661841998233600/here-is-chapter-nine-of-inhuman-bit-of-a-warning?source=share

[gtlurker]

Chapter seven of inhuman! Hope this chapter I'd enjoyed because I loved writting it, bit of violence but nothing to major in this chapter, enjoy!

Chapter seven

Atlas

“There is no way in hell he just said ‘you have twenty minutes,’ then hung up.” Ronan tells me from the other side of the kitchen where he's pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the locked cabinet that I'm not allowed within ten feet of.

He started to keep a lock on the cabinet a few months ago when I stole a bottle of rum and brought it to school to try with some other kids, so it makes me a little annoyed when he offers a glass to isabelle. “Isnt she underaged?”

I ask, gesturing to miniscule girl. Isabelle chose one of my favorite dresses that i made, a simple forest green ankle length, long sleeve running dress with built in shorts. It's simple, yes, but I can certainly see why she chose it.

“She's twenty, not fifteen. If she wants some alcohol then she can have some.” Ronan responds with an eye roll, he turns back Isabelle, who shakes her head in response. “I'd rather not.” Her voice is so quiet it's basically a whisper, I can't tell if it's because she's so small her voice won't project, or if it's because she's still scared.

She spent the night here last night, and most of the house didn't get a wink of sleep. I had stayed up the whole night trying to find more information about our little guest. Isabelle just stayed up the whole night, sitting on the window sill and watching the backyard, the house is surrounded by acres of forests, but at night there's not really much to look at.

I tried to start a few conversions, but her responses were always quipped, and each time I spoke she would jump out of her skin. I don't know how she's still so awake right now after spending the whole night awake.

Ronan had asked her a few questions about her time in the lab, but she didn't really seem inclined to answer any of them. It's impossible to not stare at her, she's holding a single cheerio, and it's taking her a while to eat through it. It's almost hard to imagine that just one of something people usually eat by the hundreds is enough for Isabelle to eat.

I wonder what it would feel like to hold her, though she hasn't let me hold her yet, i've seen ronan hold her a handful of times, she clearly hates it each time and is never very willinging to be picked up, i still find myself jealous that i probably won't get the opportunity to hold her before her brother comes to get her in a few minutes.

The room is filled with an uncomfortable silence only punctuated by the sound of Ronan taking a sip from his glass.

A loud knock at the door that's more like a banging than a knocking is the only warning were given before the door bursts open, and a very angry looking damien is storming into our house, in the span of five seconds, the chain lock broke and is currently sitting on the other side of the kitchen, ronan has got to put more money into our security system.

Ronan's glass has shattered to the ground and his gun is drawn and aimed at Damien, and Damien's gun is pointed at me. Why me!? I don't even have a weapon on me, unless you count a bowl of soggy cheerios a weapon.

As Damien and Ronan start to shout over each other, both threatening to pull the trigger if the other didn't put his gun down, my gaze shifts between the two of them for a good few seconds. I really hate when I'm held at gunpoint, it's not as fun as it seems in the movies.

As the two gun wielding assholes continue their screaming match, the sight of Isabelle curled in on herself and covering her ears catches my eyes. Did neither of these idiots think that maybe screaming and pulling their guns out might hurt her ears? She's four inches tall, her ears are probably a lot more sensitive than a normal persons.

I make sure neither Damien or Ronan have their eyes on me, before I slowly reach over to gently tap on Isabelle's back. Naturally, she recoils from my touch and looks up to me, her hands still pressed tightly over her little ears.

Our eyes meet and i nod to my outstretched hand, it takes a moment before she carefully removes her hands from her ears and scoots a bit closer to my hand, i quickly look up to make sure that both of them are still distracted and watching as damiens finger get a bit closer to the trigger of the gun.

I don't understand why both of them had taken their guns out, I'm also a bit concerned that Ronan had a gun on him when I thought that we were both unarmed. How many times has he had guns on him and I was unaware, he probably sleeps with guns under his pillows for all I know, and I really don't know why Damien pulled out his gun when he broke in.

we would have let him in if had just knocked on the door, you know, like a normal fucking person. It also makes no sense why he has his gun pointed at me.

After confirming that their both still distracted i gently scoop isabelle into my hand, bringing her to my chest and cupping my second over top of her to make a small quiet space for her, it's probably still noisy for her, but it's definitely more muffled than when she was covering her ears on the table.

When the realization that i'm holding an entire life in my hand right now. Her whole entire life is in the palm of my hand, and it feels so surreal. It's almost unreal how I can feel her squirming slightly in my grip. I swallow and try not to make a sound or move a muscle so as to not scare her into making a sound. I don't want either of them to notice that I'm now holding her.

I flinch at the sudden sound of Ronan bursting out laughing and damien demanding to know what's so funny. Rona looks over to me and points at Damien with his gun, laughing harder as he tries to get the words out.

“He- he has a BB gun!”

Ronan exclaims, followed by another fit of laughter. Damien stares dumbfoundead, and looks at his gun, my eyes also slide down to his gun. He turns to the gun in his hand and looks back to me, and then at his gun. His gun in fact, is not a BB gun, it's a 3.3 Semi-automatic handgun.

Damiens brow furrowed in confusion as roman's laughter abruptly stopped, and he fired two shots at damien, one in the elbow and one hand.

Damiens shout is more out of shock than pain, he gun clatters to the floor and Ronan wastes no time grabbing it and aiming that in him as well. I can feel Isabelle trembling in my cupped hands, muttering and trying to figure out what's going on.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Ronan asks calmly, there's an anger lacing his voice that I've never heard before. When Damien's only answer is a pained grunt, Ronan fires another shot that takes Damien's pinky finger right off, Isabelle shrieks at the sound of a third shot followed by a pained cry, and I feel my dinner rise to my throat at the bloody sight.

“I said, who. The fuck. Are you?!”

Ronan shouts again, and I quickly realize he has no idea who Damien is. I make a dash for the door as damien starts to shout who he is and what he's here for, i hold isabelle tight to my chest, and the sound of two guns clanking against the floor is the last thing i hear before i shut the door to my bedroom and open my hand to see isabelle.

she's been crying the whole time from the look on her face, so i set her down to not further overwhelm her. “Was, was that my brother?” she asks, and i nod, deciding to be honest.

“Why did he have a gun?!”

“I don't know.”

“Was he shot?”

“Yes. in the arm.”

“Will he die?!”

“No.”

Never mind being honest, she is not in the right mindset for hearing the truth. The truth is I don't know if he'll survive those bullet wounds, I don't hear any more gunshots or shouting, so I'm assuming they've started to get along.

Isabelle and I stayed in my room for another hour. She gets changed into a set of pajamas I sewn two weeks back, a pink pair of pajama pants and an ill fitting pastel yellow shirt to pair with it.

When I'm confident that they've dealt with all the blood and started to calm down, I take Isabelle and slowly creak open the door.

what's a better flavour of ice cream?

chocolate

strawberry

Voting ended onJun 2, 2024

Ignore the question part I clicked it by accident and don't know how to remove it, so just enjoy a little pole lmao

ANYWAY hope you enjoyed this chapter, Ronan forgetting the face of his own client is honestly so real